Page 67 of The Duke of Ruin
“Thank you, Lowell.” Diana smiled warmly. In Oxford, when they’d shopped for gifts for the staff, Diana had taken care to ask after everyone—and not just those in the highest positions. She’d wanted to know how many maids worked in the scullery. Simon hadn’t the faintest idea.
As they moved toward the threshold, Simon’s steward, Nevis, greeted them. An affable man with a keen intelligence, he’d served as steward longer than Simon had drawn breath and had been a close and trusted friend of his father’s. “Welcome home, Your Grace. The staff is assembled.”
“Thank you, Nevis. Diana, this is my steward. Nevis, Her Grace, the Duchess of Romsey.” He’d introduced her several times since Gretna, but the title still felt strange on his tongue. He’d known two Duchesses of Romsey—his mother and Miriam. It was a bit of an adjustment to realize there was a third and that it was Diana. He almost wished he could go back to calling her Kitty Byrd.
That thought served to lighten the weight in his chest. At least for a moment.
Then he stepped into the great hall with its gleaming marble floors and impressive collection of paintings filling the walls, and his breath caught. The staff was lined up before him, but his gaze couldn’t help but stray to the right where the grand staircase led up to the first floor. God, he hated this room.
The door snapped closed behind them, and Lowell moved past them into the hall. He addressed the staff. “May I present Her Grace, the Duchess of Romsey.”
They were arranged from the housekeeper to the footmen to the scullery maids—he counted two. This was just the inside staff, of course. Every single one of them bowed and curtsied toward Diana.
She walked forward, starting at the top of the line, and took the time to meet each retainer, spending a moment speaking with them one by one. Simon oversaw the arrival of the gifts they’d brought, which Tinley handled with the help of one of the grooms.
After Diana had greeted everyone, she gestured to the pile of gifts on a table that had been set up in the corner. “We were sorry to miss Boxing Day, but we brought gifts to make up for it. Please know how much we value your service.”
It was as if she’d been a duchess for years, not days. But then he knew she’d been trained for this and nothing else. Her father would be very proud, the prick.
Diana removed her hat and gloves and handed them to one of the maids, then supervised the distribution of gifts with the housekeeper, Mrs. Marley.
Lowell approached Simon and took his hat and gloves. “Your letter indicated that Her Grace would require a lady’s maid. Two of the maids applied for the position, and I selected Miss Banford. Does that meet with your approval?”
Simon couldn’t say. Most of the staff was new within the last two years, and he hadn’t bothered to learn their names. The staff was new because many of the existing retainers had left following Miriam’s death. Except for a precious few, they’d preferred to take new positions than stay and taint themselves with the scandal. Lowell was one of those few, having been the head footman when the former butler had departed. Nevis had promoted him with Simon’s consent. Consent? Simon had barely known what day it was following Miriam’s death. He’d given Nevis carte blanche to manage things as necessary.
Simon didn’t even know which of the women in the line was Banford. “I’m sure she’s more than satisfactory. The Duchess is not demanding.”
Lowell inclined his head. “I wonder if we might schedule a meeting for tomorrow, sir. I’d like to bring a few things to your attention.”
“Is anything amiss?”
“Not at all, sir. You’ve just been gone for some time, and I thought you might like to be informed of staffing changes and how the household is running.”
Of course he should. Damn, he was a terrible duke. His gaze strayed to Diana as she moved along the line. She, however, was already an excellent duchess. Perhaps she ought to meet with Lowell. “Should the Duchess join us?” Simon asked.
“She could if you wish; however, I suspect she will be meeting with Mrs. Marley. I know it was the housekeeper’s intent to give her a proper introduction to Lyndhurst as soon as Her Grace wanted.”
That made perfect sense. “Thank you, Lowell.”
The butler bowed and went to help with the gifts.
Simon had pivoted so that his back was to the staircase. If he couldn’t see it, perhaps his tension would ease. Yes, and perhaps Society would welcome him with flowers and fanfare when he and Diana went to London. He swallowed a derisive laugh at the likelihood of either of those things happening.
Diana came toward him. The lines were back between her eyes.
“You were meant to be a duchess,” he said, hoping to ease the worry etched in her face.
“My parents certainly educated me for it,” she said wryly. “Your staff seems well organized and superbly trained. I’m to meet with Mrs. Marley tomorrow—unless you have other plans?”
Such as leaving? He’d only just arrived, and he was ready to flee. How many days had he spent here since Miriam’s death? If he tried, he could surely count them with ease.
The lines between her eyes deepened, and her mouth turned down. “Simon, your color’s a bit off.” She touched his cheek. “Are you feeling well?”
No, he felt like hell. “Fine.”
Her gaze moved past him, and he knew she was looking at the staircase. Or perhaps just the floor at the bottom of it. “This can’t be easy for you—bringing me here.”
He turned his head slightly, following her line of sight. “It’s never easy coming back here. That’s why I seldom do it. Your presence neither improves nor worsens the occasion.”
