“Well, having a handsome duke greeting you in the morning might do that to any lady,” Louisa said with a conspiratorial whisper.
Phoebe froze above the bowl of water where she was splashing her face and turned back to Louisa.
“You noticed he was handsome too?” she asked, almost nervous with her words.
“How could I not?” Louisa said, hurrying toward the cupboard to pull out a gown for the day. “I have eyes.”
“True,” Phoebe sighed, looking back down at the bowl of water. “I suppose any woman would have to have a lot of problems with their eyesight not to see it.”
“Now you get to have breakfast with him. Lucky indeed!” Louisa laughed.
“Wait, Louisa,” Phoebe toweled off her face, feeling more and more discomforted. “I am indebted to Hayward, but that is it. I am already married, I could never…” she trailed off, waving a hand in the air to emphasize her point.
“I know, my Lady, I’m just having fun with you. Now, which one would you like to wear? The white or the blue?” Louisa held up two gowns, but Phoebe was distracted as she pointed to the blue one. She was thinking of Hayward’s good humor from the night before and his incredible kindness to do what he was doing for her. How was she ever supposed to repay his kindness? “Are you sure, my Lady?” Louisa’s question brought her back to the moment. “You like the white one more.”
“I do,” Phoebe confirmed, crossing the room toward Louisa, “but my bruises are still noticeable. The blue one will cover them up more.”
The mention of bruises seemed to take any smile out of the room. In perfect silence, they hurried to dress Phoebe, both lost in their own worlds for a minute. When it came to tying another ribbon around her throat to hide the bruises there, Phoebe paused for a time with the ribbon in her hand and stared at her reflection instead. It was still bright purple and blue, with Graham’s fingermarks clear across her skin.
“I only wish there was more I could do for you, my Lady,” Louisa’s voice made Phoebe snap her gaze away from the bruise, up to her maid.
“More? Louisa, you are my lifeline. Without you this last year, goodness knows what I could be like, probably very miserable indeed,” she said, smiling at the maid. “You have kept me sane through all of this.”
“I just wish I could repay your kindness to me,” Louisa said, helping to tie the ribbon.
“There is no repayment needed, remember that, my friend,” Phoebe said softly, remembering how she had first found Louisa, at the hands of a man as violent as Graham was. Phoebe was fortunate that she had been in a position to help Louisa at the time. “For the first time, I have real hope for the both of us.”
Phoebe connected their gazes in the reflection in the mirror, smiling at her maid. “We have a different future ahead of us now, Louisa. One where neither of us will need to fear waking up in the morning.”
* * *
Francis was already waiting at the breakfast table, having started his meal some time ago as he was an early riser when Lady Ridlington appeared. His gaze flicked up to her in the doorway where she stood there nervously, ringing her hands together for a minute.
“You are standing in my doorway like a mouse, Lady R-Isabella,” he cursed his near slip up, casting a gaze back to the butler who was just placing a fresh pot of tea on the table for him.
Lady Ridlington smiled up at him and took a step into the room.
“Forgive me, I guess I just…” she trailed off, looking nervously around, urging Francis to leave off his meal and give her his full attention. He hadn’t considered last night what else could be going on in Lady Ridlington’s home beyond the beatings, but the fact that she was approaching the breakfast table as though it were some sort of quandary made him worry.
Was her husband controlling, perhaps of where she sat at the table? Or maybe even of what she ate? He’d heard of such men.
Today, that changes.
“Please, sit wherever you like,” he said, standing to his feet and beckoning her further into the room. She offered a small smile and started walking toward the chair that sat at a right angle to him at the table. He duly helped slide out her chair and push it back in again. “Now, quite frankly my cook has prepared every meal under the sun for you this morning.”
“I’ve never seen such a display,” she said, her eyes wide as she looked around the table that was full of dishes.
“Apparently my cook was rather dismayed I did not inform her of my guest in advance. Without knowing what you like, she has taken a guess, and promptly made every breakfast I think I have ever had,” Francis said, chuckling as he returned to his chair. He was somewhat relieved when the butler left the room, promising to come back soon with some more milk.
Lady Ridlington’s eyes perused the different dishes for a minute.
“Would it be all right if I had a little bit of everything?” she asked him, looking at him expectantly.
“You need not ask me, you know,” he said, shaking his head. “You can merely help yourself to anything you want.”
“I can?” she asked, looking more startled than when he had said the night before he would help her after all.
“Goodness knows what kind of house your husband was running,” he whispered to her, just in case there were any servants standing beyond the door. “Please, eat anything you like.”
