Page 15 of In Want of a Wife
“Do you know where Mama keeps the key to her closet?”
The girl grinned with wide eyes before catching herself. “I might.”
“I will clean all this up for you if you can help me with something.”
Her stepsister stood up, then walked to her bed, and sat on the edge of the mattress. “I am interested but not only for cleaning up this mess. You know how Mama can be if you touch her things.”
Lily would never forget the time she moved her stepmother’s book to another table in the parlor so she could spread out a few drawings.
“Name your price. I only need you to fetch me that key. I will handle the rest.”
CHAPTER 4
The bag was heavierthan she had anticipated, but Lily would not sacrifice her beloved science texts or her stash of delicious chocolate on her journey. Science was best studied with a cup of tea and a dark, bitter square of the prized confection.
Three weeks had passed since being jilted, and today was a very important day for Lily.
She jumped out of her father’s carriage and shoved the bag into the hands of the driver, far too eager to run lugging all the extra weight. He stumbled back a few steps, struggling under the bag’s heft as she strolled forward, taking in a lungful of summer air. Her father’s estate, Milton House, was almost five miles away, but she visited Charlotte often at Stonehurst Park.
The light bounced off the three-story marble façade as she strutted across the flagstone path, under the porte-cochere, to the shining black door of the grand house. Two giant stone lions carved by Italian masters stood guard at the door, and below them, two bronzed urns overflowed with rioting sprays of yellow and orange flowers.
It was the only spot of color one saw when approaching Stonehurst. The duke had insisted upon the front park remaining untouched as a tribute to his father’s work with Capability Brown inspite of Charlotte’s wishes. The finely kept lawn, the methodically placed trees, even the serpentine lake was a testament to the Dandridge dukedom—calculated.
Lily tugged and straightened her lace gloves, about to knock when it opened before she ever had the chance.
“Oh, hello.” The footman stepped back and cleared his throat. His brown eyes widened before he glanced over his shoulder toward the foyer. “Good morning, Miss Abrams.”
Lily smiled sweetly at the footman. “I’m here to see the duchess, Stevens.”
Behind him, muffled arguing broke out. Stonehurst was rather famously a place where one could seek solitude, especially given that it was often only Charlotte in residence. The duke rarely visited, as he much preferred the company he kept in London or traveling the Continent.
“Of course, miss,” he replied, pulling a taut smile onto his face. “If you could wait a?—”
“Let her in, Stevens. I’m through here,” rumbled a man’s voice.
No, not a man. The Duke of Dandridge. And as someone who studied stars, Lily swore he was otherworldly.
She leaned right, trying to see what the fuss was about, but Stevens promptly stepped aside and led her into the grand foyer with a graceful sweep of his arm.
Her slippers clicked over the perfectly polished black-and-white tiles of the foyer. Her eyes swept up to the grand staircase, the walls flawlessly white and elaborately trimmed, but not a portrait or painting hung. Beyond the table in the center of the floor holding a bouquet of flowers, the hall held no further signs of life.
Charlotte emerged at the hallway by the top of the stairwell before the dark-clothed figure of the duke brushed by her and dashed for the stairs.
For as long as Charlotte had been married to the duke, Lily had spoken to him perhaps two or three times. Charlotte never spoke of him. She insisted she preferred it that way, but Lily felt the lumbering emptiness of the house around her and knew it was a lie. To be leftalone in a house as grand and vast as Stonehurst would make her lonely.
Servants buzzed around the halls, and luggage was being hastened to the doorway beside Lily. She glanced up to the duke, who was equal parts strikingly handsome and stern, even when wearing a thin smile that seemed more myth than reality.
She dipped into a slight curtsy. “Good morning, Your Grace.”
“Good day.” The duke gave a curt nod.
Above him, Charlotte spoke too softly for Lily to hear, but it stopped the duke’s descent. His hand gripped the railing tight as he peeked over his shoulder at Charlotte. It was then that Lily noticed the crumpled handkerchief tucked into her friend’s hand.
The duke’s cold eyes struck Lily as he turned his attention back to her. “Enjoy your time with the duchess,” he said, his voice eerily low as he bounded down the marble stairs.
Lily caught Charlotte’s attempt at wiping away tears from her cheeks. Perhaps this was not the best time to share the news.
“I’m so happy you came to see me this morning.”
