Page 14 of His Forsaken Duchess
Audrey’s eyes narrowed slightly. Mrs. Potts was not answering her question. In fact, she was changing the subject. Nodding, she looked around the room.
Her gaze was drawn to a large painting above the fireplace. A striking young woman with golden hair wore the very ruby necklace Audrey had recently surrendered.
“That is His Grace’s sister, Lady Cecilia,” Mrs. Potts said softly.
Audrey’s breath hitched as her thoughts began to stir.His sister.
She stared at the portrait, her thoughts spinning. She vaguely recalled hearing that the Duke’s sister had passed away years ago, but the details had always been vague. She hadn’t given it much thought, until now. Her gaze lingered on the painted necklace, so strikingly similar to the one she had worn. Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
He must have thought I wore it deliberatelyto remind him of his sister while I begged for his help.
Her fingers curled into her skirts, guilt rising unbidden.
What kind of impression did I make? After all, I only intended to request his aid, not to manipulate him or to remind him of the machinations of the very scheming members of the ton I’ve come to loathe.
She glanced at Mrs. Potts, who was standing respectfully to the side, waiting for her to finish admiring the portraits.
I have to make this right.
Audrey cleared her throat delicately. “Mrs. Potts,” she began, keeping her tone light. “May I ask… how did Lady Cecilia pass?”
Mrs. Potts’s expression shifted immediately, her bright demeanor dimming. Her eyes glistened as she pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace,” she said softly. “I am not at liberty to discuss the matter. It was… a great tragedy.”
Audrey nodded, her voice gentle. “I understand, Mrs. Potts. Thank you.”
The housekeeper dipped her head and moved to the next section of the gallery, gesturing toward another door. “Shall we continue, Your Grace?”
“Of course,” Audrey replied, though her thoughts lingered on the portrait and the questions it raised.
As they exited the gallery and made their way down another hallway, Audrey couldn’t help but notice a dark wooden door that seemed almost foreboding in its isolation.
She was about to inquire about it when a young man emerged from a side hallway. He was tall and well-dressed, his coat neatly pressed, and his easy smile lit up the hallway. With a respectful bow, he greeted them.
“Your Grace,” Mrs. Potts said, “allow me to introduce Stevenson, His Grace’s valet.”
Audrey offered a polite nod, taking in his pleasant demeanor. “Stevenson, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine, Your Grace,” he said with a broad and eager smile. “If there is anything I can do to assist you during your stay, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Mrs. Potts smiled brightly. “Stevenson is as dependable as they come, Your Grace. We’re fortunate to have him.”
“Thank you, Stevenson. I will keep that in mind.”
With another bow, Stevenson excused himself, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.
Audrey turned back to the door, asking, “What is that?”
“That,” Mrs. Potts said quietly, “is His Grace’s study. No one interrupts him when he is there.”
Audrey smirked, a touch of sarcasm slipping into her tone. “Yes, I am quite familiar with that rule.”
Mrs. Potts’s lips twitched before she let out a soft laugh. “You will grow accustomed to His Grace’s ways in time.”
Audrey tilted her head, her thoughts briefly wandering to the Duke’s abruptness and the way he had dismissed her.
Accustomed to his ways?Not unless he learns to behave like a gentleman rather than a recluse.
Cedric stared at the ledger before him, its neatly inscribed columns and figures doing little to hold his attention. The numbers blurred together, irrelevant and dull, as the snow outside continued to fall with maddening persistence. He drummed his fingers on the edge of the desk, his jaw tightening as the walls of the study seemed to close in on him.
