Page 24 of The Artisan and the Duke
“They can write about me in all the papers they wish,” Jules said woefully, “if only I can take it off.”
Sherry scoffed, “You are lucky she doesn’t make you wear it to bed at night.”
Jules frowned and sighed. She was here to play this ridiculous part, and she was going to play it, but that did not mean that she had to be happy about it. “Was the Duke in-house when you went to fetch breakfast?”
“I do not know, Ma’am,” Sherry said then added thoughtfully, “if he is, then he is more than likely in his study. Do you want me to check with his manservant and see what his schedule is for the day?”
Jules shrugged. “I think it is time I made my reappearance into the household before Lady St Claire sends her blood letter after me,” Jules said with a frown.
“Doctor Shannon is a fine physician,” Sherry said with a slight laugh. She had grown used to Jules’ distrust of society and everyone around it.
Jules nodded and rolled her wrists. “Of course, he is. Just like the physicians who give poison to people and call it vaccines,” Jules said with distaste. “Besides, we both know that I am not sick, and I have no interest in becoming that way.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Sherry said as she gathered up the ribbons she had laid out earlier and put them away. “I do like that light blue ribbon in your hair, Ma’am,” Sherry commented as she put the accessories away in an ornate wooden box.
Jules turned her head to the side so she could see the ribbon more plainly. “It is rather pretty,” Jules agreed with a hint of a smile.
***
“You cannot be serious with this,” Lady St Claire said with impatience to her son Gregory. “Why would anyone want to burn down a factory with children inside?”
Gregory eyed his mother steadily and reminded her, “Someone really did burn that factory down, and the exits were sealed. I had one of my insurance men go over the building with me. Even the local police think it was arson, although if you ask me, I think they are pointing the fingers at the wrong group.”
“It is just horrific to even think of it,” Lady St Claire said. She fanned herself with a lace fan as if she could blow away the very thoughts of the fire. “I do wish you would not bring up such things. What if your betrothed overheard you?”
“I think she would agree with me,” Gregory said simply. He smiled with delight at the look of frustration on his mother’s face. “Oh, come now, Mother. With her background, do you honestly think she is some shrinking violet?”
Lady St Claire sighed. “I daresay that after all of these years waiting for you to pick a bride, that I never know what to expect from you or those you choose, Gregory.”
“Oh, that reminds me, Fredrick left this morning to go to the country estate,” Gregory said as he leaned back in his father’s chair. “I think he seemed rather pleased.”
Lady St Claire smiled and shook her head. “Of course he did,” she said to Gregory. Her tone softened as she added, “That was a very kind thing to do for your brother. I should not have pushed him to rejoin society so soon. Perhaps by next season, he will be more himself.”
“People change, Mother. This might very well be how Fred is, but I am hoping he will regain some of his jovial nature. He seemed to take to Miss Kelley well, and that makes me think that there is hope for him yet,” Gregory said. He gave his mother a pleased smile.
***
Jules straightened her shoulders, which was hard to do in a corset, she found, and knocked on the door to the Duke’s study. From inside, she heard a faint, “Enter.”
When Jules stepped inside, she saw Lady St Claire seated in one of the leather chairs across from the Duke’s desk. The Duke himself looked at her in surprise. “Miss Kelley, I was not aware you were feeling up to moving about yet,” he said as he stood up and came over to gently grasp her by the arm and elbow.
Jules allowed the man to guide her over to the couch that Fredrick had been seated on the last time Jules was in the study. She sank down onto the cushioned chair with a soft, “Thank you.”
Lady St Claire asked in concern, “Do you need some water? You look frightfully pale.”
Jules mumbled, “More like a knife.” Lady St Claire gave Jules a confused look, and Jules spoke up louder, “That’s very nice.”
Lady St Claire waved off Jules’ kind words. “Not at all,” the woman said as she rose to her feet. “I’ll just go fetch you some lemon water from the kitchen. It always makes me feel better when I’m a touch ill.” The woman quickly bustled out of the room all swish of skirts and tapping of shoes.
When the door shut, the Duke chuckled and told Jules, “It is a very good thing that she pads her hair so much over her ears, or she might have had you committed.”
Jules blushed with the knowledge that the Duke had heard what she had said to his mother. “It was just a jest,” Jules said apologetically.
The Duke shrugged. “I have probably said worse to her, and I assume it was not to do her any harm, more to your laces?” The Duke’s gaze dropped down to Jules' waist.
Jules fought the urge to wrap her arms around herself in embarrassment. “They are rather restricting. I’m surprised noblewomen don’t faint in the streets,” Jules said with perfect seriousness.
“They do,” the Duke said with a chuckle. “That’s why there are fainting rooms.”
