Page 43 of His Haunted Duchess
Ajax bounded joyfully across the lawn. Esther’s teacup clinked back into its saucer.
“I daresay the only animal we haven’t seen today is an elephant,” she said. “But it would look well enough, strolling by the lake, I suppose.”
“Please, Your Grace,” said Winifred, pulling her white cap down on her head like a knight pulling down his helmet, “the last thing we need around here is another exotic. Don’t tempt her.”
CHAPTER 14
“Now we’ve come to it,” Winifred said, blinking back the beginnings of anxious tears. “Your very last night at Kingston! Oh, how I shall miss this estate!”
She looked fondly around the room. Caroline pulled her evening shawl closer around her shoulders.
“And you’ve packed everything?” Aunt Olivia asked. She had been a formidable whirlwind of effort all day—moving parcels, checking bags, and generally causing little confusions wherever she went. In her haste to assist in packing that night at dinner she had absentmindedly spread jam on her potatoes. “Is there anything else you might need?”
“If there is anything else, I’ll send for it,” Caroline said. “Or, better yet, I’ll come myself and have another reason to visit.”
The wedding, distant at first, had hurried toward them at last. Carlyle, true to his word, had picked up the package fromMrs. Gray’s containing Caroline’s wedding garments. The dress, manteau, and gloves were set out upstairs, ready to garb their mistress in the morning.
Caroline, on the one hand, looked to the next day with relief. The wait would soon be over, and the uncertainty set aside for solid conviction. On the other hand, she had no idea what that conviction—with all its certainty—would bring.
“You know my home is always open to you, dear,” Lady Olivia said. “Anytime you feel inclined to visit, please do.”
Caroline leaned back into the couch cushions. Now that the hurry and scurry of the last day was done, she felt oddly peaceful and innervated at the same time, like a settled glass of champagne sitting on the sideboard. Lady Olivia took a seat opposite her.
“Well, now that it’s come to it, there are—there are some things that you should know.”
Her ears turned a delicate primrose pink. Caroline looked at her curiously. She couldn’t think what else needed to be said, but Aunt Olivia looked as if she was going to confess to robbing a pie from the kitchen.
“The duke—well, he’s a man,” she started, bravely. Caroline raised her eyebrows.
“Yes?”
“And you—you’re a woman.”
Aunt Olivia’s face blotched with patches of white and purple. She licked her lips.
“And the duke—is also a duke.”
Perhaps Caroline had severely underestimated how much stress her aunt and Winifred had been carrying. She looked to the lady’s maid, who was clasping her hands earnestly in her lap.
“What your aunt means, dear, is that the duke, as a man and a husband, will likely be hoping for an heir—someone to look after Blackmore when he’s gone.”
Aunt Olivia chimed back in.
“An heir that you can provide—as his wife.”
Caroline blushed.
“I suppose it is reasonable for a newly married couple to hope for children to bless their union.”
“Yes, of course, dear?—”
“Absolutely natural.”
Aunt Olivia rang the bell. Martha entered.
“Ratafia, please, Martha—and biscuits.”
Martha curtsied and left. Winifred looked down her nose at Aunt Olivia, who bristled.
