He had not been dangerous withher, though. Instead, His Grace had been all passion, and Bridget had been a willing and eager participant in their dalliance. For all his insistence that she abandon her fantasies, the Duke of Wheelton cut the image of a dark, brooding hero.
“No thoughts on the matter?” Bridget asked, noting that Amelia had offered no reply.
“I am uncertain what to say, my lady,” Amelia said. “I would not wish for you to marry a brute, but I also know that your affairs are far more complex than my own. You must make choices that I will never have to.”
“I do not believe he presents a threat to me,” Bridget said.
Or did he? He had promised her pleasure if she was his perfect wife. What would he do if she was not, though? Would he have her locked away like the poor Dowager Duchess?
“He cares too much for his reputation and what thetonmight say to harm me,” Bridget said.
Bridget knew she was trying to convince herself of that as much as she was Amelia.
“If you are certain,” Amelia said, stepping towards the gown.
“I am,” Bridget said, standing. “But just to be certain, we will try to speak to the Dowager Duchess. We will go at once.”
If she waited, Elias would anticipate her presence at breakfast, so Bridget would leave immediately.
The ride to the Dowager Duchess’s townhouse only took a few minutes. Bridget descended from the carriage, a swell of disappointment blooming in her chest. A small part of her had anticipated a slightly more foreboding structure, a fitting place to hide one’s shameful relatives, but the home looked like any other. The façade was white and austere, framed by rose gardens on all sides. It was, in a word, beautiful.
Not at all a forbidding place to keep someone captive, but Bridget supposed that His Grace might be a clever villain. He would not want to be caught committing his misdeeds.
“It is lovely, my lady,” Amelia commented.
Bridget had not been so foolish as to leave home without an escort.
“It is,” she said. “As is to be expected, of course, from a man with such a substantial fortune as the Duke of Wheelton.”
Bridget stepped onto the path that wound neatly through the roses and approached the door with her head held high and her shoulders back. Amelia rapped her knuckles lightly against the door, and they waited.
And waited.
Bridget furrowed her brow. “Well, this is rather unexpected. Someone ought to have come to us by now.”
“Maybe Her Grace prefers to keep a small staff,” Amelia said. “She must be quite old by now. Maybe she has grown to enjoy the silence.”
Bridget inwardly balked at the suggestion. She could not imagine living without sound—laughter, conversation, and music. And why would anyone choose to deprive herself of a proper staff?
Frustrated, Bridget knocked once more on the door, and at last, it was pulled open. Rather than a butler, a portly woman stood in the doorway. Her brown hair was pulled severely back and mostly hidden beneath a cap, but rather than giving her countenance the sharpness that Bridget associated with matrons and governesses, the woman still maintained a softness.
“May I help you?” the woman asked.
Bridget bristled at the unusual greeting but forced a bright smile, summoning all her charm to win over the strange woman at the door. “I am Lady Bridget,” she said. “My brother is the Duke of Reeds, and I am soon to be the Duke of Wheelton’s bride.”
“Yes,” the woman said, offering a belated curtsey. “I am Mrs. Clove.”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Bridget said. “I have come to call on the Dowager Duchess. Because I am to marry her grandson, I feel it is long past time that we met.”
Mrs. Clove narrowed her eyes and surveyed Bridget carefully. “I am afraid that is impossible,” Mrs. Clove said. “Her Grace is declining all calls at the moment.”
Bridget blinked, a little taken aback. “Why is that?”
“Because she desires to,” Mrs. Clove said. “Respectfully, it is a private matter, my lady, and one which I am not at liberty to speak of.”
A private matter. That might be anything, though. Bridget bit the inside of her cheek and considered her approach.
“I would request that you ask her again,” Bridget said.
