Page 31 of The Duke of Ruin
"I was twenty years old when the Duke hired me to care for his wife," Polly began slowly, her brow furrowed as she recalled the story that had begun many years ago. "I first met his Grace in Bristol, where he kindly employed me in the offices of his shipping company --I was in charge of paying the wages and the like to the sailors. A rough lot some of them were."
"I didn't think this was a retelling ofyourlife story Polly," Olive snapped, trying to quell the guilt she felt at her rude behaviour. She tried to remind herself that Polly had lied to her, and had been paid to spy on her by her husband, and for a moment her rudeness felt justified.
"No need for that, your Grace," Polly replied mildly, unperturbed by Olive's uncharacteristically bad-tempered behaviour. "I was merely trying to illustrate why his Grace chose me as his wife's companion -- it was on account of the fact that I had experience dealing with hot-headed males on a day to day basis. The late Duchess had gone through a dozen companions before I came along."
Olive remained silent as she considered this; surely Catherine Ashford hadn't been so greatly disturbed that the Duke couldn't have found a proper lady to cope with her behaviour?
"When I arrived at Pemberton Hall," Polly continued, ignoring Olive's foot which was tapping with impatience, "Her Grace was in a bad way. Her Lady's maids had all left, due to all the violent outbursts, and I dare say she hadn't bathed in weeks. She was hard to deal with, screaming and raging one minute then as meek as a baby the next, but I persevered. I was used to difficult behaviour, what with looking after Emily all my life."
"Emily?"
Olive hadn't wanted to ask any questions, or protract their conversation any longer than was necessary, but her interest was piqued.
"My sister," Polly eyed her defiantly, "She is not, as some might say, the full shilling. Though that's all that some would get to say, if they spoke ill of her around me."
Polly wore an expression that Liv thought might be similar to the one a tigress might display if anybody threatened her cubs. The fierce love and protectiveness that Polly felt for her sister was evident, and Olive felt a stab of envy; she had always wanted a sister, and she wondered what it would be like to have someone as strong as Polly always there to protect her.
"Where was I?" Polly ran a distracted hand through her hair, as though to push away the feelings for her sister while she concentrated on her tale. "Oh yes; the late Duchess was in quite a state when I first arrived, but after a few weeks of tough-love, she was much better --and remained that way for quite some time, until Charles Birmingham returned."
Charles Birmingham, Liv knew, was the man that the Duke of Everleigh had killed in a duel, the man who had been his late wife's lover.
"Oh, he was a bad 'un," Polly scowled darkly, as she recalled the deceased man. "And her Grace, the moment she saw him, seemed to forget all the bad things that he had done to her before, and fell under his spell like that."
Polly clicked her fingers, to indicated just how quickly the late Duchess had been bewitched by Birmingham, but Liv ignored her, for something else had caught her attention.
"What do you mean, all the things he had done before?" she asked slowly.
Polly flushed, evidently that was part of the tale that she hadn't intended to mention. Seeing Liv's look of determination, however, she heaved a great sigh.
"I don't wish to speak ill of my late mistress," she whispered, glancing at the door to make sure that it was shut. "But Birmingham had seduced her and abandoned her, years ago, leaving her in a very difficult situation. It was why the Duke married her in the first place -- to save her reputation."
Liv gasped; she had not known this, and she couldn't imagine why a man of Everleigh's title and status would feel obliged to marry a woman pregnant with a child that was not his.
"He loved her," as though reading her thoughts, Polly spoke again. "Not love like romantic love in the poems, but in the way that I love Emily. They had been friends for all their childhood, and when she wrote to him to explain what had happened he arrived in St. Jarvis a few days after he'd received the letter, and they were married the next day. He simply wanted to protect her."
Protect her by giving her his name, Olive thought, shocked by the selflessness her husband had displayed. He had not cared for lineage or social gossip, he had simply wanted to save his friend from ridicule and scorn. This image of Ruan as a man who would give up everything to protect the people he loved was hard to marry with the obnoxious Duke she had wed, just a few short weeks ago.
"And the baby?"
"Born an angel," Polly whispered, "The Duke said that after she lost the little girl, Catherine spiraled into a complete depression, that only ended when I arrived. Can you imagine how hard it must have been for him, for I didn't land on the doorstep of Pemberton Hall until two years later."
Liv shook her head; she could not picture what Everleigh had done for those years, caring for a woman who was mad with grief. Other families, she knew, sent relatives to asylums --swept them under the carpet like they did not exist-- but Ruan had kept Catherine safely at home.
"Where was I?" Polly shook her head, attempting to focus for they had both deviated from the original plot of the tale. "Oh, yes. Mr Birmingham arrived back in St Jarvis, and almost overnight, her Grace was back to suffering violent mood swings. I did not know what was wrong with her for many months, and the Duke was away at sea. Then things began to disappear, her Grace's jewels, some of the silverware; small things at first, then gradually even the other servants began to comment on it, and I knew that I was not imagining things."
"Was it Birmingham?"
"Of course, who else? But for a while I think people suspected it was I, until Mrs Hogg, the housekeeper saw him sneaking in one evening."
"What happened then?" Liv asked curiously.
"Oh, all hell broke loose," Polly frowned, "I could not forbid her from seeing him, it wasn't my place, I was just a paid companion and she was a Duchess. Now that he had been spotted, he would call whenever he felt like it. For weeks and weeks he plagued her, writing love letters one day then initiating blazing rows the next. He held the threat of leaving again above her head like a guillotine. The poor woman was shaking from the moment she woke, to when she fell asleep. Then his Grace returned, and I informed him of what was happening..."
Polly trailed off, looking rather uncomfortable at the memory.
"And what happened then?" Liv prompted softly.
"Oh her Grace soon found out who had snitched on her," Polly was pale, her eyes focused on the wall and not Olive as she recalled what had happened. "She lunged at me, and began to choke me. I could not push her off, her fury was so great. If the Duke had not heard my screams, I would be dead. He pulled her off me, but even he struggled with her, and he's a big man, as you well know. Her Grace was sobbing, hysterical -- and then she confessed that she had given Birmingham a vast sum of money, for him to purchase a home for the pair of them, but he had disappeared again. Imagine, the poor thing believed the lying swine, even after all he'd done to her."
