Page 15 of The Hidden Duchess

“I know that we weren’t officially family yet,” she whimpered, “but I had to come because no one else will understand what we’ve suffered. I don’t know how you manage to keep soldiering on.” She laid a comforting hand on his arm.

“One does what one must,” Edward said. He gestured toward the parlor and the lady preceded him in.

“Poor lady,” Lydia repeated the sentiment that had been used earlier that day. “I’m starting to think that women around the Benningtons are cursed.”

“Are there more?” Caroline whispered to Lizzy.

Lizzy laughed as if even she thought her theory ridiculous but could not help herself. “The house is cursed,” she revealed as if it were a well-known fact.

“How so?”

“Well,” Lizzy ticked the list off her fingers. “They say that the duke’s first wife died of the winter fever, but my mother; she works at Heatherton Hall,” she sidetracked, “that’s how I got a position here.” She continued, “She thinks the Duchess poisoned herself. She had terrible bouts of melancholy and loathed the duke so much that she most often resided at Heatherton while the duke remained in London. The only thing that made her happy were her sons.”

Caroline listened with bated breath.

“When they went to Eton, she had nothing left, and mother thinks she couldn’t bear it any longer. He drove her to it, you know.”

“The old duke?” Caroline whispered.

Lizzy nodded.

“That’s horrible,” Caroline exclaimed. It did not sound so unlike the future that she had thought awaited her. She thought that she would never have resorted to such depths, but there was no telling what horrors the duchess had endured in all her years married to the horrible man.

“You haven’t met the duke,” Lizzy replied before clapping her hand over her mouth for having said such a terrible thing about the deceased. Caroline had, in fact, met the late duke, but she was not ready to tell Lizzy that quite yet.

She asked the maid to continue.

“Well, Lord Robert was killed at sea… leaving his betrothed,” Lizzy gestured toward the parlor, “who had waited for five long years to marry, heartbroken and alone. She’s practically on the shelf now when at one time she had been the most eligible lady in London and in line to marry a marquess who would one day be duke.” She ticked a third finger. “Next, the new Lady Bennington dies only days after her wedding in some horrible accident.”

Caroline was nodding now, but none of this was new information to her. It was tragic, but it certainly did not mean that the house was cursed.

“Don’t even get me started on the maids,” Lizzy finished with a flourish.

“What about the maids?” Caroline asked. She felt all the way to her bones that this information was pivotal.

“They disappear,” Lizzy shrugged. “All the time. In the middle of the night. Poof, they’re gone! A few days later a new one appears. Then poof, she’s gone too. You can’t ask where they went. No one knows, or if they do, they aren’t telling. I heard that the last girl who asked too many questions got sent to the Americas. It’s a curse; I tell you.”

Caroline gaped. Lizzy may be naïve, but she had just confirmed Caroline’s worst fear. Women were being filtered in and out of this house like slaves. She still did not know how many people were involved, or if the duke and his sons had been aware of the criminal activity taking place under their own roof. Her late husband had certainly been capable of such treachery, she realized, and she did recall that her father had mentioned that the duke had unnamed, sordid contacts. He prided himself on taking advantage of people. Hadn’t he taken advantage of her? Still, the highwaymen had not brought her directly to this house, but a brothel, leading her to wonder whether or not they had any direct connection to the Benningtons at all. She thought rather that it might be a network of households all across London working with the madam, which meant she could trust no one. However, if the duke had been involved, he would not have been killed by his own men, would he? For the moment it was all too muddled for Caroline to make sense of, but she knew that if she had any hope of escaping, she had to find out more.

“I hope you stay,” Lizzy eventually said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I like you.”

“I hope I stay too,” Caroline added. She was not happy as a maid, but who knew what worse fate might be in store for her. At least here she was only a short distance from her father’s townhouse. She only had to walk there on her day off, but when she asked when her day off would be, Mrs. Reilly laughed outright. “We shall see in a few months,” she said. “Anyway, where would you go, girl? Do you have family in London? I was told the contrary.”

Caroline bit her lip and shook her head. She could not say.

CHAPTER10

Mrs. Reilly was in a tither over who would serve the tea and biscuits in the parlor. The footman who normally did the job had a cold and was sneezing most indecorously. The other male servants were out on various tasks, and the usual girl that Mrs. Reilly hoped to use had taken a temporary leave of absence and returned to her father’s farm in Scotland with her brother, one of the aforementioned footmen. Caroline learned that the maid had been in love with the late duke’s valet and was taking his death to heart. She wished that she could have comforted the girl and told her that her lover had died an honorable death protecting his lord and lady.

“I can do it,” Caroline volunteered.

“You?” Mrs. Reilly said incredulously, but Caroline carried the tray with enough grace that Mrs. Reilly beamed and declared that she was, “pleased to see there is something you can do without a catastrophe.” The housekeeper did not know that serving tea was one thing she was more than adept at. Still, it rankled that she hadn’t gotten credit for being a fast learner. Sure, she had made more mistakes than she could count, but she never made the same mistake twice.

She entered the parlor on silent footsteps and set about arranging the tray at a table by the windowsill. Lord Edward and his guest were sitting in chairs opposite one another.

“You’ll have to plan the funeral service,” Lady Blackwell was saying. “I could help. I still have many of the contacts your father had sent me as we were arranging Robert’s service.” She sighed. “It could be a dual service for your father and your brother.”

“Triple,” Lord Edward corrected.

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