The sound of cutlery chinked to her left and Charity turned toward the sound, angling her head around as she strained to hear more. Yes, someone was preparing a table, perhaps a breakfast table. Charity moved toward it, with her throat still parched.
She found an open doorway and stepped inside, her hands on either side of the doorframe.
“Oh, my goodness!” a squeaky voice suddenly declared as someone jumped back from Charity. She felt how close they had come before leaping away. “Forgive me, my Lady. I did not seeyou there. You are a quiet one.” The young voice giggled, then hands seemed to muffle the sound from her lips. “Oh, forgive me, my Lady, I should not have said that. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Isobel. I have been requested to be your lady’s maid in your stay here with us for today.”
“My maid?” Charity spluttered. “Oh, it is lovely to meet you too, Isobel.” She struggled to gather herself, realizing that the duke must have made preparations for her for this day.
“I am glad to find you, my Lady. I have just been setting up the table for breakfast. I could come and run you a bath, if you should like one? Or perhaps my Lady would like to eat first?” As Isobel stepped away, Charity hazarded a guess at the first problem—of many to come no doubt—that had risen between them.
Isobel perhaps expected her to take her own seat. And Charity felt too embarrassed to seek help from a stranger for every trivial task. She had mostly done so from her family thus far.
“The bath please,” Charity instead said hurriedly. “If it is not too much trouble of course.” Suddenly, her whole body stiffened as she realized she could be inviting Isobel into a chamber where the duke was presently sleeping on the floor. What gossip would spread then? Perhaps she could enter alone first and warn the duke beforehand when Isobel left to get a bucket of water. Yes. That was entirely plausible. “…Would you mind showing me back to the chamber?”
“Ah, my Lady. I am so sorry; I had forgotten. Oh, foolish me.” A pat suggested Isobel had hit herself on the head. “Forgive me for asking the question bluntly, but are you… I mean, are you truly…?”
“Blind? Yes. Do not be afraid of saying the word with me.” Charity waved a hand in the air, urging the maid not to worry.
“Well, I would be more than delighted to show you to your chamber then, my Lady.” Isobel took her arm and steered her back out of the room, toward the staircase. She was a happy person, bubbly and chatty, so as she led Charity through the house, she started talking so quickly, Charity strained to pay attention.
“What a surprise it is to have you here today. The duke scarcely has guests. No, rather, he never does. Unless it is Lord Baxter I suppose,” she trailed off, as if in thought. Then, she chimed again, “So that is why we are all quite excited about your arrival. Did you sleep well? I hope so. I am only sorry we were not able to provide a more comfortable chamber for you. I could have had a bath prepared for you last night if we had known you were coming.”
“Please, do not worry. It was all rather last moment,” Charity murmured, wondering what she was going to do next. Even if she stayed here for the day, as the duke had offered, she had told a lie when she said she had somewhere to go next.
There was nowhere. She had escaped the wedding for one day, but sadly, sooner or later, she would have to go back to her father and return to her prison.
“What do you think of the house? I do hope you like it,” Isobel added. “Oh, foolish me, of course, you have likely not had the time to explore it just yet. I could provide a tour later if it would please?”
“That is kind, thank you,” Charity beamed sincerely. When they reached the corridor outside her bedchamber, Charity stalled, fearing the duke may still be inside.
What do I do to get Isobel away now?
“Your door is open, my Lady.”
Open? I left it shut.
“Here, you go inside, and I shall fetch you some hot water.”
“Thank you.” Charity forced a tight smile and waited for Isobel’s steps to retreat. Once they had faded far enough, Charity stepped in and closed the door behind her. The talk of water reminded her of her parched throat. She would ask Isobel of that next if she required more time to stall, she decided. For now, though, she had to wake the duke.
“Your Grace? Your Grace?” she whispered loudly. Yet his deep voice did not answer.
She crossed to the other side of the bed and felt around on the floor, searching for him, but there was only the empty rug. He had left.
A sigh of relief escaped her then. Charity sat down on the edge of the bed, thinking of the duke as she awaited Isobel’s return. She traced her fingers once more across her lips, thinking of the way the duke had kissed her, and wondering why he had done so. Was it to hint there was a way she could thank him? In a morephysicalway? Or was it what she had felt it to be, an act of intimacy, of understanding, in that moment alone in the darkness?
Strangely, Charity did not feel frightened by the idea if he might have wanted some sort of physical gratitude from her. Rather, she was more shocked by her body’s reaction to the very notion, with her heart hammering as hard in her chest as the thunder had clapped the night before.
“Here we are!” Isobel called as she returned to the room.
A screen must have been swept aside, judging from the sounds, and soon enough, Charity heard the distinct noise of Isobel filling up a bathtub with various pales of hot water.
“I have left some soaps here for you too, my Lady. There’s lavender, and this one myself and the other maids adore, sage and rosemary.” Isobel moved toward her and wafted a bottle under her nose. “What do you think of the scent?”
“It is delightful.” Charity followed Isobel’s footsteps back toward the bathtub and reached for the edge of the tub, trailing her fingers in the water. It was warm and soothing. Any lingering fears she might have had about the storm the night before now faded away. “Isobel, may I ask you something?”
“Of course, my Lady. I am here to serve you and make your stay as comfortable as I can. What can I do for you?”
“Truthfully, I wished to know something.” Charity chewed her lip before turning her head in Isobel’s direction. Though she could not see a person, she frequently turned with her head at an angle, so that her ears stood the best chance of catching everything a person said. “How come the walls are so bare in this house?”
