Page 48 of The Scottish Duke
“Yes, my dear, and I’m so sorry to interrupt you.”
They both glanced toward the doorway where the Dowager Duchess of Kinross was standing, removing her gloves. Her face was arranged in a pleasant expression but her eyes didn’t miss anything.
“Your Grace.”
The duchess removed her heavy black wool coat to reveal an emerald silk dress padded with a simple hoop. The skirt was gathered up in several places and adorned with black braid, as was the corset. The hat was emerald as well, with a black feather sprouting from the rakish brim.
The duchess was fashionable, wealthy, and more than a little frightening. Lorna would have been intimidated by the woman’s presence had it not been for memories of the other woman’s kindness.
“Your Grace,” she said again, feeling inept.
She truly wanted to curtsy to the woman, but there was no possibility of that. In the last few days, Peter had to assist her in standing. Besides, she didn’t want the duchess to see that her blue dress—the only one she could still wear—was much shorter than propriety allowed.
She felt like one of those huge hot air balloons she’d seen in the newspaper.
“My dear,” the duchess said, “I’ve interrupted your nap. I’m so sorry. I remember how hard it was to fall asleep at night. Should I come back at a better time?”
“Of course not, Your Grace,” she said.
The duchess sank into the chair next to Lorna, reached out and took Lorna’s hand, holding it between hers.
“All three of my children were as large as your child. I was quite ungainly by the time I gave birth.”
“I waddle like a duck,” Lorna said, smiling. “And I’ve outgrown all my clothes.” She couldn’t even fit into her shift, a comment she was not about to make to the duchess.
“As did I, my dear. My husband told me that I was radiant and graceful. I laughed uproariously. But he was like that, a kind and good man even in the most difficult circumstances.”
The duchess glanced down at their joined hands, then back up at Lorna. Tears pooled in her eyes. She shook her head as if to negate her momentary grief.
“Look at me, going back into the past. But when I saw you, my dear, it reminded me so much of that time. I’m sure there were petty annoyances and irritations, but thinking back I don’t remember any of those. I was filled with such joy.”
Her smile was watery and bittersweet before she cleared her throat, sat up straight, and released Lorna’s hand. “I’ve come to welcome you back to Blackhall, not regale you with tales of my past. How are you settling in?”
“I’m very comfortable here,” Lorna said. “The duke has done a lot to make me feel pampered and privileged.”
“He thinks highly of you, you know.”
She didn’t respond to that. The duchess was attempting to be polite, and sometimes, in the absence of other compliments, people manufactured some. She was more than certain that the duke thought no such thing. She doubted if her name ever came up in conversation. How did he discuss his soon-to-be illegitimate child with his mother?
Lorna glanced at Peter. The weather was too cold for him to stand outside the cottage. He’d made the kitchen his base of operations, spending the time sitting at the table carving.
“Would you like some tea?” she asked, hoping Peter would jump in and offer to prepare it.
She knew that the duke had installed him there to run errands between the cottage and Blackhall, but he’d been personally helpful as well as kind to her in the past few days.
“That would be nice,” the duchess said, standing.
To Lorna’s surprise, the duchess insisted on making tea, bustling around the small kitchen as if she were familiar with such tasks. Lorna overheard the conversation she and Peter had about his carvings and his working with wood.
In a matter of minutes the duchess returned to the parlor, followed by Peter carrying a teapot and two cups on a tray. After placing it on the table in front of the chairs, he bowed and retreated into the kitchen again.
“Such a tactful young man,” the duchess said, sitting in the adjoining chair once again. “I’ve always liked him.”
“Why don’t you employ a lady’s maid, Your Grace?”
The duchess glanced over at Lorna. Her smile was genuine and warm, but then the woman had always been gracious to her.
“What an odd question. Is it because I’m no stranger to making tea?”
