Page 2 of His Forsaken Duchess
The lady’s maid stepped back with a satisfied smile, and Audrey inclined her head. “Thank you, Miss Smith,” she offered, her tone polite.
Miss Smith curtsied deeply before stepping aside, her hands smoothing the folds of her apron. She lingered a moment longer, her eyes darting to the Countess, as if seeking approval of her work.
“You’ve outdone yourself, Miss Smith. That will be all for now.”
She curtsied once more and exited the room quietly.
“Now, girls,” Grace said, turning to Lilianna and Clarise, who were perched nearby, their chatter filling the room like the melody of songbirds. “It is time for you both to excuse us.”
Lilianna’s smile faltered, her eyebrows drawing together in a frown. “But why, Mama? We are quite content here.”
“As am I,” Clarise added, folding her arms with the indignation of her fifteen years. “Why must we leave?”
Grace’s lips curled into an indulgent smile. “Because, my dears, there are matters that require privacy between a mother and her eldest daughter on her wedding day. You may wait downstairs.”
“But, Mama?—”
“No arguments, Lilianna,” Grace said firmly, though her voice remained gentle. “The wedding is soon, and your sister has many preparations still ahead of her.”
Lilianna huffed but rose with a swish of her pale muslin skirt. “Very well, though I cannot imagine what requires such secrecy.”
Clarise followed suit, dragging her feet with a dramatic sigh. “At least allow me to stay by the door. What if Audrey needs something?”
“She has me for that,” Grace replied with a pointed look. “Now, off you go.”
With much muttering and reluctant glances, the two sisters finally left the room, their footsteps echoing faintly down the hallway.
Grace turned to Audrey, her smile softening as she closed the door. “Now, my dear,” she said, her voice touched with nervousness, “we may speak freely.”
Audrey arched an eyebrow, her smile faltering slightly. “It seems you have sent them away on a rather mysterious pretext, Mama. Should I be concerned?”
“Not at all, my dear,” Grace said, her hands fluttering nervously before she clasped them tightly in front of her. “It is simply that there are certain… matters… that I feel I must address with you before you marry.”
Audrey’s eyebrows knit together, though she remained silent. Her stepmother’s uncharacteristic awkwardness made her uneasy.
“Well,” Grace began, pacing a short distance before turning back to Audrey. “Marriage, you see, is… much like… a garden. Yes, a garden! It requires care, patience, and a great deal of attention.”
Audrey blinked. “A garden, Mama?”
“Precisely,” Grace said, her voice firm, though her cheeks had turned a faint shade of pink. “There are certain… duties… one must tend to, just as one tends to a garden.”
“I see,” Audrey replied slowly, though she felt more confused than ever.
“And,” Grace continued, her voice growing slightly more strained, “it is important to understand that… well… sometimes one must trust the gardener to know what is best.”
Audrey tilted her head to the side, feigning an expression of thoughtful consideration. “The gardener?”
“Yes,” Grace said quickly, clearly relieved by the metaphor’s apparent success. “In this case, it will be your husband. He will, of course, understand how to… cultivate the garden properly.”
At that, realization began to dawn on Audrey, though she felt a flush rise to her cheeks. “Oh… I do believe I understand now, Mama.”
Grace’s shoulders relaxed visibly, and she let out a soft sigh. “Oh, good. That is a relief. Though I wonder how you came by this information.”
Audrey looked down, twisting a ribbon between her fingers. “I might have overheard some of the maids talking,” she admitted.
Grace gave a gentle, if not slightly exasperated, smile. “Well, I suppose curiosity is natural at your age.”
Audrey nodded, though her stomach twisted at the thought. She hoped—yet again—that the Duke meant it when he said that theirs would be a marriage on paper only. She attempted a reassuring smile, though her nerves were frayed.
