Page 16 of A Duke's Lustful Riddle
Cressida extended her hand for her husband to plant a kiss on it, fully unaware that her daughter’s eyes looked empty as she took in her mother and her stepfather’s interaction.
“Tea has been marvelous. I thought you were going hunting, darling. What brings you to tea so early?” Cressida asked her husband.
“We have received an invitation to Lady Alice’s soiree,” Thomas said. “It will be the first event of the season. I do believe that we ought to attend.”
Cressida beamed at Thomas, and the pair began talking and making arrangements, as Vivienne’s mind wandered. Events of the season were not the most exciting thing that she could think of on any given day.
Her thoughts drifted to the shrouded mystery of her parentage. She knew that Thomas was her stepfather, but she wanted to figure out who her real father was now that they were back in London. Naturally, she aimed to find this out delicately, and with the Earl, nothing was ever really that delicate. The thought of trying to find out who she really was kept Vivienne up sometimes at night.
Vivienne had previously attempted to unravel the mystery years ago. Her mother reacted in a fit of madness which made any subsequent attempts seem very unwise and only added more questions to the growing list in her quiet mind.
The chilling uncertainty of her origin, coupled with the fear of her mother’s potential actions, sent a cold shiver down Vivienne's spine. The fear her mother’s fits could bring out in her made Vivienne very cautious about broaching that subject.
She imagined that most would feel as she did, particularly with a stepfather like Thomas. The truth seemed always out of her reach. She spent many an hour going through what she knew of her mother’s past and tried to match it to a timeline that fit, to no avail. She hoped that her time here at Sagewood would introduce her to some people who would have known her mother before she was born and shed some light on who her father might be.
Vivienne jolted back to reality at the harsh clink of a teacup against a saucer, snapping her out of her deep introspection.
“Come, darling, we must find you something new to wear to the soiree,” Cressida urged.
Vivienne followed her mother to her own bed chambers as they searched through her closet for something fabulous. They had bought new dresses since moving to Sagewood Manor and there had to be something fit for the season.
The pair spent the rest of the day getting Vivienne ready, against Vivienne’s wishes. The soiree wasn’t for a few days but here her mother was practicing the latest hair trends and make up styles on her daughter.
What a bothersome chore it was to have to dress up and present herself in such a way. She felt on display at all times. But such was the way of their society, and Vivienne was expected to play her part well.
Chapter 8
Gemma was restless in her bed yet again, staring up at her white ceiling as she tossed and turned. What a horror it was to be unable to sleep. Her mind cried out for it, but her body and memories of Gabriel seemed to want to thwart that at all costs.
Her mind teemed with thoughts of the cryptic message from the late duke and the hidden treasure. Not being able to conduct the treasure hunt added to her angst of not being able to dispel the image of the new Duke of Ashbourne naked in all of his glory. Her mind and body were on overload.
What did the late duke want them to find together? It must be important, otherwise the duke would not have gone through the trouble of having Mrs. Harrow deliver the message at the just the right moment. Despite what Gabriel thinks about his father’s mind at the end, she knew differently. He did not see the duke in his illness.
She threw the covers off and huffed loudly. She wanted to know what was hidden and what it meant. One could always use a good treasure hunt, she imagined. Why, she might be rather good at figuring out what the letter was referring to, as well.
How many clues were there? Were they all hidden on the estate? What would they find that would keep the duke’s memory alive? There were an infinite number of questions to ponder on the matter.
Gemma’s heart was filled with happiness at the thought that the late duke still cared for her even in his passing. He was still around, watching her, wanting her to find this treasure that meant so much to him. If one were to typically feel such utter loneliness and grief when a loved one passed on, a treasure hunt to distract from that was just the tonic.
What a treasure he himself had been when he arrived and offered her sanctuary and care. The duke could have simply not allowed himself to get involved. Instead, he opened his home to her, cared for her, kept her safe and secure.
How could she not do him this one favor and complete this treasure hunt as he requested. One thing kept her mind spinning. Why did she and Gabriel have to complete this together? Why wait till he was gone to have Mrs. Harrow deliver the letter?
It was as clear as a cloudless day that Gabriel did not care about the treasure, or the late duke for that matter. Gemma had definite feelings of conflict when she repeatedly reminded herself how long it had taken Gabriel to return to his rightful duties.
It made Gemma’s blood boil just thinking about the way Gabriel dismissed the letter and its clue. Why did he not see the potential magic in the letter as she did? What was wrong with his limits of perception and imagination?
Gemma’s tired mind finally succumbed to sleep, even with thoughts of Gabriel keeping her occupied. She dreamed of an adventurous quest within the estate as they followed each clue to the hidden treasure.
First, she started off in the dining hall, finding a clue hidden beneath the grand table. Then she followed the clue into the garden, which was blooming with flowers, and the grass was cut. The clue in the garden was hidden within the rose bushes, and she had to maneuver her way to the clue without injuring herself.
That clue led her to a secluded corner of the mansion. This mystery solving was going well as she happened upon something that appeared to be rather useful.
As she reached the corner, she saw the clue, stuck behind the top corner of a portrait, out of reach for her petite frame. She strained slightly but could not reach it despite her best efforts.
“Do you need help?” Gabriel’s voice echoed from behind her.
Turning around, Gemma gasped.
