Page 86 of A Marquess' Season of Secrets
What is the duke doing? I’m confident he knows better than to display the appearance of giving aservant undue attention. It would be perfectly understandable if Mr Johnson, Mrs Black, or Mr Stevens were in my shoes, but I am just a simple servant.
“Are your memories happening more frequently than usual?” he asked as they climbed the stairs.
“Yes, Your Grace. The faces are becoming clearer, but I am no closer to knowing who the people are.”
The duke nodded, pausing at the top of the stairs. “Perhaps you can describe some of them for me. I used to sketch quite a bit in my youth and might be able to put the images in your mind on paper.”
“You could do that based on what I say?” Juliana asked, surprised.
“I admit that I am not as good as I used to be, but I am willing to give it a try. We can use the sketches to aid us in our search for your family.”
The sketches would be useless if the gentleman she was to meet turned out to be a family member, but Juliana could not refuse the eagerness in the duke’s eyes.
“I would like that very much, Your Grace,” she replied.
“Good,” he said cheerfully and continued to move towards the library, looking at her once to ensure she was keeping up.
Juliana took her usual chair once they had entered, but the duke went straight to a desk and pulled out writing material.
“I hope I can do your memories justice,” he said. “I might need to sketch you first to ensure that my skills have not deteriorated from lack of use.”
The thought of having her image immortalised on a piece of paper appealed to her, but her shyness protested sitting for the duke while he closely inspected her features and drew what he saw.
“That is not necessary, Your Grace,” she insisted. “I am confident that your ability will return to you as soon as you put pen to paper.”
“Do you not want me to draw you, Isabella? You seem a tad embarrassed by the prospect.”
The duke wasn’t insulted but grinning at her as though he found her protests amusing. Juliana lowered her eyes, unable to look into his lovely dark eyes any longer. Her heart was beating faster than usual, and the colour on her cheeks was likely as deep as it had been when he first startled her.
In the end, the duke won the one-sided argument as she knew he would and had her sit for at least an hour while he sketched her. He refused to show her what he had done so far, but upon seeing her disappointment, he promised to give it to her after he worked on it a little more.
Juliana left the library with a foolish smile on her face and a giddy feeling in her heart, belatedly realising they did not get around to discussing her recent memories.
Oh well, there is always the next time.
Chapter 19
Juliana had expected Lady Stratford to be the one to take her to the agreed meeting place, but the woman had insisted she had to go alone. She wasn’t even allowed to tell anyone where she was going and had to give another location in case anyone became suspicious.
Juliana wished to ask why she had to go to so much effort to meet someone because it was no secret that she was searching for her former life, but she let the matter go.
Lady Stratford could be unpredictable and might accuse Juliana of being ungrateful and troublesome and cancel the meeting. Although the secrecy left Juliana unsettled and somewhat fearful of what lay ahead, she convinced herself to think about all the good that would happen once she met the gentleman.
Juliana would finally know her own name, find out about her family, and return to the life she had had before the duke found her. She stopped walking abruptly, causing a woman behind her to curse bitterly.
“What is wrong with you?” the woman cried. “You cannot go stopping in the middle of the road, young lady.”
“Excuse me, ma’am,” Juliana apologised. “I did not mean to trouble you.”
“Well, you did. I could have dropped my basket of apples and had my customers complain about all the bumps and bruises. What shall happen if I cannot make enough money for my children’s bread tomorrow?”
Juliana peered into the woman’s weathered face, seeing the harsh realities of her life etched into every line and crease of her face. She looked to be about forty or so, but Juliana had a feeling she was younger than that.
“Will this help?” Juliana asked, removing the little sack of money she always carried with her from her pocket.
She handed the entire sack to the woman, who simply stared at her as though she were gobsmacked.
“Why would you give me your money?” the woman asked suspiciously. “Is this a trick of some sort?”
