Someone else was in my husband’s chamber. Who was it?
***
“I was pleased to see you ate well, Your Grace.” Mr Arnold led Diana’s path into the drawing room, carrying two candles to light the way.
In the drawing room, she found the fire to ward off the winter chill was already going, filling the room with deep orange light, and the windows looked out onto the snow that dappled the ground. She moved towards it, eagerly looking out to find there were green shoots breaking through the snow.
It’s beginning to thaw.
“Do thank Tommie for me for the meal,” Diana said as she turned away from the window. “It was delicious.” She still hadn’t eaten as much of it as she would have liked, but she certainly ate a little better with things more catered for her on the table.
“I have found your book for you again, your Grace.” Mr Arnold was being excessively formal as he placed the candles down on the mahogany trestle table. He collected the book from the side of the room and placed it with the candles.
She scrunched her nose and tried to hide her expression. While she was enjoying the book, she had been reading it for most of the day and had nearly finished it. She wanted to speak instead of spending another evening in silence.
“Ring the bell if there is anything you need, Your Grace,” Mr Arnold said formally as he bowed and turned towards the door.
Diana found something building inside her. It was a kind of desperation to make him stay.
“Wait,” she called to him and stepped forward. He turned in the doorway, looking back to her with surprise. “Perhaps you could stay a little?”
“I beg your pardon?” he said, his eyebrows lifting high.
“Do you know whist?” she asked, hurrying towards the card table at the side of the room and pulling out a pack of cards usually kept in a small wooden box, inlaid with mother of pearl flowers across the top.
“I do, Your Grace, but I hardly think it proper that I should accept to play with you,” he said, though he closed the door behind him again, either about to accept her offer or worried that someone would overhear them.
“Would it be proper to refuse a request of your duchess?” Diana asked playfully as she lifted the cards, watching as Mr Arnold smiled, clearly humoured by her words.
“Something tells me the duke might not agree.” The dryness of his humour pulled a small laugh from her. She gestured down to the card table with the cards, determined to have at least one evening distracted from her loneliness.
“Please, Mr Arnold.” Her question hung in the air for a minute as he stared back at her.
“Well …” He hesitated and took a step towards her. “I suppose if I let my duchess win every game, that would not be so bad.”
“Oh, I hope you will not do that. Where would be the fun for me?” she said as she eagerly took her seat.
“At least I will feel like I have done right by my station then.” He crossed the room to the other side of the card table and unfolded it. With the wood joined in the middle, it unfurled to reveal a green felt top, softened for playing cards, then he sat at the table opposite her.
“If you lose every game now, I know what you will have done.” She shuffled the cards, concentrating on the action.
“I could be a shockingly bad player for all you know. What if I naturally lose all the games now?”
“Then we will simply have to practice more,” she said with delight and offered the cards to him. “Would you cut for me?”
“This is for tonight, Your Grace.” The solemness of his words as he reached out to cut the cards made her smile falter. “Tonight only.”
She nodded, with no trace of the smile in her features again. As he cut the cards, she felt his fingers brush hers. It was the first touch from him she had ever known, and she bit her lip at the effect it had. A warming tingle spread up her arm, enticing her to lean more towards him as she dealt out the cards.
“It is your go first, Mr Arnold.”
They lapsed into playing their game, with Diana trying her best to concentrate on her cards, though she failed at every hurdle. She was finding herself deeply attuned to every move her butler made. Whether he was scratching the stubble on his chin in thought, adjusting in his seat, or sliding his next card along the green top of the table with long fingers, she was aware of all of it.
As he placed his next card down, Diana grew distracted. He’d taken off his normal white gloves to play, revealing the strength in his hands. She found her eyes wandering up his sleeves, past his arms, and to the broadness of his shoulders. It was a rather alluring image, as Diana wondered what he could look like when he was not wearing his butler’s garb.
“Your Grace, something tells me you are a little distracted from playing the game.” His teasing words made her snap her gaze back down to her hand of cards.
“I was merely staring at you in thought of what card to play,” she said hurriedly.
