Page 12 of A Virgin for the Beastly Duke

“I indulged in a little too much whiskey last night,” the woman revealed. “The soup they bring me for the after-effects of drinking no longer aids me, thus, I asked them not to bring me any.”

“What sort of soup is that?” Bridget asked, taking a seat next to her.

“Something with lentils and tomatoes, I believe.”

Bridget caught sight of sherry in a glass before her. She picked it up and held it out for a footman to take it away, then picked up some brioche and buttered it. She placed it on a plate and set it down in front of Belinda. “Here, have this. It should make you feel better.”

“You are very kind, Child. Thank you.” Belinda accepted without protest, and did not seem to notice that her sherry had been taken away.

Bridget poured some chocolate into a cup for her with some sugar and placed another buttered brioche and a scone onto her plate. “I find that food drives away the megrim.”

The poor woman had likely been in too much pain to eat properly. Bridget loved looking after the people she cared for, and she was coming to care for Belinda.

“You must be wondering where the duke is,” Belinda said, appearing to have regained some of her color, which greatly pleased Bridget.

“Yes, I am,” she replied slowly, concentrating on the jam she was spreading on her scone.

“He left the castle before any of us woke up. Lander told me he went to meet the steward, Mr. Meyer. There is always something in the estate that takes much of his time, you see.”

“I understand,” Bridget murmured, disappointed at his absence.

“He wished to make many changes to the castle, but could not do so because he lacked the means.”

This pushed a question that Bridget had to the fore. “How did the castle become this way?”

Belinda rolled her eyes. “The old duke.” Her tone suggested that she had not been very fond of him. “He liked his drinks and games more than he did the castle.” Lowering her voice, she added, “Or his son.”

It was not enough for Bridget to understand her husband’s history, but she thought it explained, a little, why he married her. It also made her feel better that her dowry would not be wasted, because she had thought about it and feared.

“What manner of man was he?” she asked, “The old duke, I mean.”

Belinda’s gaze clouded before glancing about the room and saying, “That might be a tale for another time, my dear.” She finished her chocolate and reached for the pot. “I feel much better after eating, and I rather like the chocolate with sugar.”

“You did not take it with sugar before?” Bridget asked.

“Oh, I did not know it would be any good with sugar.” She grinned as she poured the chocolate into her cup.

“How does the duke like his morning beverage?” She was very curious about her husband, and since his aunt was willing to tell her about him, she decided to take advantage of the opportunity.

“He takes coffee. They brew it especially for him.” Belinda shook her head, then winced, from the pain. “I could never understand how he could consume something so positively bitter.”

That drew a chuckle from Bridget. “My father is very fond of coffee.”

“Well, he is a man. Their constitution is greater than ours.”

A flickering drew Bridget’s attention to the candle at the center of the table. “I believe I know what will make you feel even better this morning, Belinda.”

“What is that, my dear angel?”

“The windows. They should be opened to allow some light and fresh air,” she announced, and Belinda’s hand froze as she was raising her cup to her lips.

“I beg your pardon?”

Bridget noticed a footman coming to stand behind Belinda’s chair, and wondered why he was there.

“It is daytime and we have no need for candles. I believe everyone will find benefit in the windows being opened.”

“The duke…” The cup in Belinda’s hand began to tilt, and the footman immediately caught it and set it down on the saucer. Bridget now understood that he must have predicted what might happen and moved a little closer to prevent it.

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