Page 85 of The Scottish Duke
Another of Jason’s assets: he never once asked why they were remaining in Edinburgh or when they were returning to Blackhall.
The days were filled with activity. The nights were barren. He worked until he could no longer see the swirls and patterns of the various prints. He’d finalized his catalog system and put Jason in charge of ensuring that every card was in its proper position. Each person’s prints were not only listed in the catalog by name, location taken, and occupation, but by significant features of the print itself. This way, he had a way of cross-referencing the print.
He kept himself frenetically busy, to the extent that he accomplished what he’d planned for the next two years. He met with members of the Scottish Society who lived in Edinburgh and attended lectures. He avoided social occasions for two reasons: he didn’t enjoy socializing all that much, and news of his wedding had probably leaked out. He didn’t want to explain why he was in Edinburgh and his wife was at Blackhall. Lorna didn’t deserve the gossip.
Nor did she deserve a husband who was acting the fool.
His mother hadn’t come out and called him a coward but that’s exactly how he was behaving.
Lorna hadn’t written him. He hadn’t heard from her in all the time he’d been away from Blackhall. He’d only known her a month. A month and one night. Not long enough to affect him in this way.
He might as well be invisible to her.
That thought was, at first, oddly painful, then simply annoying.
Nor had his mother sent him a note. It was as if he’d dropped off the face of the earth and the two women couldn’t be bothered.
He didn’t know what was more irritating: that no one seemed to notice he was gone or that his conscience was telling him that’s exactly what he’d wanted.
Matthews was even hinting at going home, and Edinburgh was a joy to his valet. There were countless shops from which to purchase innumerable items Alex didn’t need, as well as tailors to visit and hold out the carrot of the Duke of Kinross’s trade.
The Edinburgh house was exceedingly comfortable, the staff excellent in the execution of their duties. He did the same thing he’d done in Inverness, finding himself studying the maids, of all things, and wondering at their lives. He addressed the housekeeper in Edinburgh just as he had in Inverness, no doubt surprising both women with his sudden interest in the servants. Were any of them suffering any hardships? Were their wages enough? Could he have a list of their names?
He’d even taken to nodding to each servant as he passed and addressing them when they met. After the first few times, when they only curtsied, wide-eyed, they’d always responded with a smile and a greeting.
About damn time he started noticing things.
Matthews was an exception. Alex tried to turn a deaf ear to his valet and his gossip most of the time, but one morning he found himself acutely interested in what Matthews had to say.
“I’ve heard from MissTaylor, Your Grace. A great many things are changing at the castle. Your mother continues to dote on your son.”
Matthews watched him carefully as he delivered that news. Alex closed his eyes, wished the man would finish shaving him silently but knew that would be too much to ask.
“Since when does my sister-in-law correspond with you, Matthews?”
“MissTaylor wrote me to ask if I would purchase a few items for her.”
“How did she know we’d moved on to Edinburgh?”
When the valet remained uncharacteristically quiet, he opened his eyes and stared at Matthews.
“I might have dropped her a note to let her know, just in case the Dowager Duchess needed to reach you, Your Grace.”
“You are neither my secretary nor my confidant, Matthews. I’m capable of informing my mother of my whereabouts. I don’t need you doing so.”
Matthews bowed stiffly. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“What else did Mary write?”
Matthews smiled, and Alex knew he’d fallen into the valet’s trap. He closed his eyes again and vowed not to react to the man’s further news.
“Your wife refuses to use the seamstress who served the previous duchess, Your Grace. Evidently, the seamstress doesn’t approve of your wife’s taste.”
He noticed that Matthews was careful not to call Lorna “duchess.” Did the man think she didn’t deserve the title? His valet was a snob, not the first time Alex had made that assessment.
“Your suite smells of nappies, Your Grace. And I understand your new wife has washed out baby garments in the bathing chamber and hung them in the dressing room. When MissTaylor suggested that the laundress would be better suited to care for the child’s garments, she was rebuffed by that woman your wife chose as a lady’s maid. She’s ill-prepared for the position, sir. She has no training, and scorched a dress when she tried to press it.”
Alex remained silent, not giving Matthews any encouragement.
