“Very well.” Catherine sighed as she extended her hand toward the servant, who delicately placed a letter in her hand. It was not as if the duke had not been intercepting all of her correspondence in and out of the house. Whatever was in the letter was likely already known and approved by the duke, or else he would have likely confiscated it from her, rather than allow her to read something he would not approve of.
Catherine was still so enraged over the ballroom that she could not even be bothered to check to see if the seal had been broken. Perhaps the servant had also been instructed to wait around until she finished reading the letter in question so that she might report Catherine’s reaction back to the duke.
It would not be the first time that such a thing had happened.
Strange to think that two months ago, such thoughts and schemes would never have even crossed her mind. She did not have the same natural penchant for deviousness as those who resided in this house tended to.
Her mind started to drift back to Richard, as it always seemed to do these days.
The servant cleared her throat pointedly, and Catherine shifted her attention back to the girl. “I shall read the letter later,” she said shortly.
“No, my lady. You are, of course, free to do as you wish with the letter. That was not my intention in speaking…I merely wished to express an opinion, if you would be open to it,” the servant spoke softly, pleadingly.
It was the first time that any of the staff seemed to have any inclination of speaking to her as anything more than a nuisance in their residence at all. For that fact alone, Catherine was willing to give the girl her time. She waved a hand as if to indicate that she should go on.
“He was not always this way, my lady,” she said without lifting her eyes to Catherine’s face. “The duke, I mean.”
Catherine found that very hard to believe. She had spoken with Richard enough times to feel that the man had been cold toward him his entire life. Richard’s childhood alone could only have been described as cold. “I do apologize if I have offended you, but I do also find that a very difficult statement to believe.”
“I know you would,” the servant continued. “But whether the duke knows it well or not, he is still very much in mourning. The loss of his wife…it broke something within him…”
Richard did not speak often of his mother. It was difficult to keep from asking more questions than she ought to. It was not as if she had the right to pry and force the servant to provide further information, but she certainly wanted to. Anything to help her understand her enemy a little bit better.
“The duchess was a wonderful woman. It is because of her that most of us found employment here. If it were not for her choosing to take a chance on me, my son might have died of a cough a great many years ago. She was a kind, giving soul. Someone warm and soft enough to thaw the duke’s heart,” the servant spoke with warmth as she recalled the memory of the duchess.
It was obvious by the tears welling in her eyes that she still harbored a great amount of love for the woman. “Losing her was difficult for us all…in her memory, we all stay in an attempt to ease the pain of her passing and keep her memory alive…”
Well, that did answer a fair many questions. Though, Catherine did not know if she would have been strong enough to endure such harsh treatment from the duke even knowing what she knew. The late duchess must have been a saint indeed to inspire such wonder.
“The loss was unlike anything…we all still feel it. It is a wonder that the young master functions so well,” the servant added softly again. “He just needs time…he will find himself once more. He has merely allowed the grief of her loss to force him to forget…but he is in there. We see him, the true him, from time to time.”
Catherine tried to imagine such a thing. She tried to imagine the duke as a good father, or an interesting conversationalist—or even just somebody that did not send ripples of icy dread and terror through her bones each and every time that she looked at him.
“As I am sure you have noticed by now, my lady, we tend to watch things very closely here…it is our job, and it is something that we must take very seriously,” she continued as she plucked at an invisible speck of lint on her apron. “As such, I wanted to ask if perhaps…the strength of your feelings might perhaps be influenced by some other changes? More than just existing in a new space?”
Catherine’s brow furrowed in confusion as she hugged her letter closer to her chest. “What do you mean?”
She could think of nothing that might influence her other than the stress of having to endure all of this. She had just been sotiredlately. All of the work they did had weighed upon her terribly.
When the servant spoke next, she spoke softly and kindly. “…your courses, Lady Landry…”
Catherine’s heart thumped uncomfortably in her chest.
“You have been here for over a month, and your lady’s maid has yet to report your courses…”
“The stress, that is not all that uncommon for me,” Catherine said quickly. It was an easy lie to assuage the servant. Thelastthing that she needed the duke to know was that she might be with child. But she knew that her courses were as regular as the moon lifting into the sky. As sure as it would rain in spring—she knew it. She could not believe that she had overlooked something so very important.
“Of course, my lady. I apologize for overstepping.” The servant curtseyed and started to move out of the room. Catherine was tempted to caution against her spreading gossip, but she doubted that it would do any good at this point.
Catherine fidgeted with the letter in her hand. Could she truly be with child? What would Richard say? It was not a subject that they had spoken about. Perhaps she had spoken true about the stress…but the thought of a child growing inside of her? One that looked like the perfect blend of herself and Richard? Memories of that night flooded her brain as arousal rushed through her core. Her hand dropped to her stomach. She did notfeeldifferent…but the prospect…
She did not realize that she was smiling like a fool until her cheeks started to ache.
Quickly, she corrected herself and shifted her attention to the letter still clutched in her trembling hands. She opened it quickly, surprised to see the signature from the Dowager Duchess Lady Isabella Harrington. An invitation to a garden party. A week-long commitment.
As much as Catherine had beencravingan excuse to get away from this house…Lady Harrington was the last person that she wished to see. To be a guest in her house? Knowing how badly the woman coveted Richard? Knowing that she likely harbored a great deal of animosity toward her because she wished to marry him herself?
Catherine did not know how to feel about it.
