“You clearly know your master well,” she said, attempting humour, though it didn’t last as she breathed through her tears. “It is a shame. I was enjoying our game until he returned home.”
“So was I,” he said with a sigh, wishing for the first time that the duke would not return home at all.
Chapter 5
“What did you do back home?” Mr Arnold asked as he carried the crate of wine down the corridor.
“What do you mean?” Diana asked as she followed him into the wine cellar, startled by how cold and damp it was around her. She shivered and passed her hands over her arms, aware that as Mr Arnold put the crate on the floor, he turned and smiled at her.
“A duchess should really not be down here, Your Grace,” he said playfully and gestured to the full cellar behind him.
“Surely you realize by now I am not like other duchesses.”
“Ha! That is certainly true,” he said laughing, turning his attention to the wine. As the butler, it was Mr Arnold’s job to oversee the wine, including the deliveries to make sure everything was in order. Diana had taken the opportunity to have a few stolen minutes with him in the day, knowing that her husband hadn’t yet risen and was still in his bedchamber.
He has been there for an awfully long time.
She had a feeling it had less to do with the amount of wine he had consumed the night before, and more to do with whoever he had chosen to warm his bed. She felt sickened one minute at the thought and relieved the next. At least he would not come to her for such pleasures for the time being.
She looked around the cellar, admiring its beauty despite its dampness and chill. In the February air, even with the snow beginning to melt beyond the high glass windows in the yellow-stone room, the air was icy.
Around the racks of wine, there was frost on some of the wood, especially where Mr Arnold had placed the white wines. He seemed to have placed all the red wines on the other side of the room, with the racks bound in wool to keep them warmer.
“What were you saying?” she asked as she walked around him, watching him work as he added the new bottles to the racks.
“Back home, Your Grace. When you were living with your mother and father, what did you do for amusement there?” he said with a smile. “I wager you had more people to talk to, certainly.”
“Very true indeed,” she said, taking a dessert wine bottle he proffered to her.
“Try that one tonight.” He nodded his head at the bottle. “You will love it.”
“Thank you,” she said, reading the label as she answered his latter question. “I lived in London, so my friends could come and see me often, though my closest friend can no longer see me. Never again.”
“Why is that?”
“Mothers do not rise from graves, as much as we wish them to.” She did not realize how much her words had struck Mr Arnold, not until the bottle slipped from his hand and he had to work hard to catch it from the air. She gasped when he caught it, seconds away from it smashing to pieces on the stone floor. “I startled you.”
“I was certainly not expecting you to say that,” he said with a shake of his head as he stood straight again. “You lost your mother? I am truly sorry.”
“Thank you,” she said, keeping her eyes down on the dessert wine in her hands. “We would talk for hours into the evenings, laughing together.” She smiled at the memory. It was one of the first times the thought wasn’t coupled with overwhelming grief. She was able to think of the good memories and hold onto that.
“What did you two do together?”
“You will laugh.”
“Well, if you say something like that, I am bound to keep a straight face now, aren’t I?” he said, then turned to face her, adopting a very impassive face. “How is that?”
“You look like when I first met you,” she said with a giggle. “You are very good at keeping a straight face.”
“So I am told,” he agreed with a nod. “I do not let my barriers down for many people, Your Grace.”
“Then … why do you play cards with me?” she asked softly, watching as he paused with the wine and looked back to her.
“When I figure out how to put it into words, I’ll let you know.” He turned away to add the wine bottles to the racks again, leaving her to blush in private and hide her expression from him. “So, I have promised to keep a straight face. What did you and your mother do for amusement?”
“I …” She paused. She had never even said such things to her friends before, let alone to a butler.
He is not just a butler to me.
