Page 56 of Cinderella's Charade With the Duke
‘Your staff is part of your family and so was I, no matter how brief a time it may have been. They did what the Doctor bade them do after your accident: maintain as much consistency and constancy to your world to aid in your recovery. And the world you had created was with me, a façade of a betrothed to keep the reporters at bay. When you woke with no memory, the Doctor did not know of this web of deceit, but asked for me to stay and for us to care for you until your memory returned once we told him of it. Even he agreed to be a part of this charade. What we all did was for you, Your Grace. To care for you. What happened between us was unexpected, but you cannot will it away.’
He took a step closer to her, but she did not move or flinch. The servants held their breath just as she did. ‘If that is the case and not more lies, then you have done your part. I am recovered and I know who I am. And I do notrequirea betrothed any longer. Nor an uneducated and deceitful governess.Leave. Now.’
Every word pricked like glass shards thrust under her skin, but she held her emotion and response in check. She gazed past him to the wall, focusing her attention on the early landscape of the estate. She sucked in a breath, set her gaze on those around him and began.
‘Thank you, each and every one of you, for your care and friendship during my stay here. I am grateful for it. I will leave as His Grace commands, but I will require a carriage to take me to the stagecoach.’
‘Of course, Miss Potts,’ Mr Simmons replied. ‘I shall tell Eddie to ready the horses.’ The small hitch in his voice gave away his emotion. The rest of them gave a slight bow to her, which made her stomach drop.
Mrs Chisholm came forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. There were no words, but the love in her gaze spoke volumes.Hattie swallowed and forced a smile and a nod. Hattie then lifted her gaze to William and held it without a falter.
Then she gave a deep bow and lowered her head. ‘Your Grace,’ she said before rising. ‘Please give this to Millie, since I cannot say goodbye to her myself.’ She extended a bulky sealed note to him that held her small, worn string bracelet with its three lavender glass beads that she had always worn about her wrist. It was Millie’s now to keep her safe as it had kept Hattie safe for so many years.
Trudy and Ophelia would have agreed with Hattie’s choice to gift it to the girl and would understand her decision to part with it. Her dream for independence for herself hadn’t come true, but she had a new wish: Millie’s happiness. She hoped if Millie wore it, her hopes and dreams would come true.
It was now what Hattie wanted most in the world.
She was unable to keep the tremor from showing as her hand remained extended towards him. He resisted for a moment, but finally took it from her. The brief brush of his fingertips against hers ignited a fresh wave of hurt and longing. She stiffened, turned and walked back to the hall to wait for the carriage. How long she stood in silence alone in that hall, she did not know, but relief and dread filled her when the carriage came into view outside the front windows, its wheels crunching the gravel on the drive. Eddie came in and gathered her bags.
‘Ready, Miss Potts?’ he asked.
‘As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,’ she replied, fashioning her drab brown hat on her head and repositioning her matching cloak. She stepped outside and entered the open carriage. As he closed the door and sealed her within the warm snug confines of the carriage, she noted he had placed a blanket and wrapped treats from the cook on the seat beside her. The small kindness rekindled the loss she felt and she blinked back tears. As theypulled out of the drive, she reminded herself this was for the best even if her heart said otherwise.
Chapter Twenty-Four
William stripped down to his trousers, casting aside his cravat, shirt and jacket on to the barn floor. He cared little right now about propriety and what was expected of a duke. He was a man right now and a broken one at that. The cool spring air hit his bare torso and goose pimples pebbled his skin. He sucked in a breath through his teeth. Feeling cold was a luxury to the pain, anger and confusion he felt.
He groaned as he spied the barrier between him and the relief he sought. He cursed. Why could nothing be easy today? He lifted and moved aside one large bale of hay after another, so he could reach the heavy black boxing bag hanging from one of the barn beams. He hadn’t used it since he was a young man frustrated with the world, which was exactly how he felt now. How many hours had he spent in here each day as a lad just trying to make sense of the world and his future within it?
It was covered in dust from lack of use, but today he would make up for lost time. He slid on the boxing gloves he had pulled from a crate nearby. He smiled, grateful his father had left this area of the barn untouched despite the many years it had been left unused.
William landed one solid blow to the bag. A puff of barn dust from the nearby hay blew in his face and he coughed, but theinstant release he felt stirred a familiar feeling in him. He landed another hit and then another. Why had he allowed himself to believe he could have all he wanted? That he was building a life?
He’d been a bloody fool. Just like he’d been with Cecily. He had believed what he wanted to believe despite the truth staring back at him. Miss Potts had lied to him just as Cecily had and only wanted him for his title, his money and the lifestyle of a duchess.
He pounded the bag harder, setting into the familiar light-footed stance he’d learned at university and from his father, who had also enjoyed boxing, despite what others thought of gentlemen taking up such a sport. It had been one of the things they’d had in common, which perhaps was why his father left this area untouched.
‘Did you know I would need it one day?’ he chuckled, talking aloud to his father. ‘I thank you,’ he muttered, landing another series of punches to the bag. The repeated pull and push of his muscles were ignited and soon minutes passed. Another flood of memories of his time with Penelope, indeed Hattie, rushed to the front of his mind.
The feel of her touch along his skin and hers beneath his own made him flush as the heated desire surged through him. The moment at the ball when she’d stood at the top of the stairs, he had felt she was his future, no matter how he had tried to deny it. And her love for Millie was real. Had he always cared for her, even when she was merely Hattie Potts, governess?
He clutched the bag and leaned his forehead on the leather, panting from the exertion and confusion. Had she not truly loved him? Had he not truly loved her? Did it even matter any more? He didn’t know.
‘Your Grace?’ a timid voice called from behind him. A familiar female voice. He stilled before turning.
‘Yes, Miss Bellows?’ he asked, still leaning his gloves against the bag, trying to catch his breath.
She stared at his torso, blushed and averted her eyes as she wrung her hands.
Curses.
He yanked off his gloves, rushed to grab his shirt from the floor and shrugged it on. ‘My apologies,’ he offered and then faced her as he attempted to right his appearance. It was then he recognised the taut drawn lines on her face and the agonised expression. She wasn’t merely uncomfortable with his state of dress. He stilled. ‘What is it?’
‘It is Millie, Your Grace,’ she began, fiddling with the strings of the apron she often wore to protect her clothing. ‘I have looked everywhere, but I cannot find her. She has been most distressed about Miss Potts leaving. I thought she was hiding from me in the house, but we have turned it upside down, and…’ Her voice trembled. ‘I was hoping she might come to you if you called for her. I am so sorry. I did not know what else to do.’
‘No, no.’ He began grabbing for his cravat and jacket. ‘You have done right to find me. Have the household and grounds been searched?’
‘Yes, Your Grace. We have all been looking for her for over a half-hour. The groundskeepers have been alerted as well.’
