Rather than obeying, the maid inhaled sharply. Her face went pale, and her curtsey was careless. “His Grace would advise against going to visit his grandmother.”
“I am certain he would,” Bridget said, tipping her chin defiantly upwards. “Nevertheless, I will see her.”
The maid bit her lip. “Your Grace, I must beg you to reconsider. If His Grace learns?—”
“I will accept the consequences,” Bridget said, waving a flippant hand. “Have the carriage prepared and ask the kitchens if we have any honey cakes. I should like to present the Dowager Duchess with one.”
The maid’s face was still hesitant, but at last, she nodded. “As you wish, Your Grace.”
Bridget smiled, a little smug. It did feel rather nice to be the Duchess of Wheelton and managing her household, with only her husband to answer to.
By the time Bridget arrived at the Dowager Duchess’s house, she was much more confident in her plan. Bridget knew that she was not a perfect person, but before her scandals, she had generally been liked. It would not be difficult to charm the Dowager Duchess, especially given how little company she received. If Bridget was disallowed guests, she would be desperate to speak to anyone.
The door was opened, and Bridget blinked in surprise as she met the startled gaze of a plump, middle-aged woman. “You are not expected,” the woman said.
What an improper welcome! Bridget’s smile faltered, but only for an instant. “I am the Duchess of Wheelton,” she said, “and I have come to see the Dowager Duchess.”
“Your Grace!” The woman dropped into a startled curtsey. “You should not have presumed to?—”
Bridget stepped around the woman, her eyes sweeping over the foyer. It was a wide, open space decorated with vases of pink roses and a red and gold tapestry hanging on the opposite wall.
“Her Grace does not want visitors,” the woman said. “Please, you must leave.”
“Nonsense!” Bridget exclaimed. “I am married to her grandson. It is long past time that we met.”
“You do not understand,” the woman insisted. “Her Grace is unwell.”
Bridget frowned, her patience beginning to fray. This was the second time that she had been denied entrance!
“I know,” Bridget said. “And I brought her a cake! I did not bake it myself, so I know it is safe to eat.”
Footsteps thundered on the stairs, and an elderly woman appeared at the top of them. She was spindly and frail; her thin, white hair hung in faint wisps around her soft-featured face. “Did Lewis forget something? What is this noise?”
“Good afternoon, Your Grace. It is such a pleasure to finally meet you,” Bridget said with her best manners, taking a step forward.
The woman’s eyes widened, and she curled herself around the banister. She looked like a mouse caught in the claws of a vicious predator, but Bridget could not imagine why anyone would be threatened byher. But this?—
This woman was ill, and Bridget had made everything worse. Ice crept into Bridget’s veins and clawed at her chest. Lewis had not been exaggerating the Dowager Duchess’s condition, and Bridget had clearly distressed this woman. The urge to flee rose within her, but she found her feet rooted to the floor.
She had to fix this. Somehow, she had to calm the Dowager Duchess’s nerves once more.
“I am Bridget,” she said, forcing her spine straight and her shoulders back. “I am the Duchess of Wheelton, and I have?—”
“Where is Lewis?” the woman yelled.
Bridget froze.
“Lewis!”
“Your Grace.” The woman, who had greeted Bridget at the door, hurried up the stairs. “Your Grace, why not return to bed? You usually take a brief respite during this time.”
“Butsheis here, Mrs. Clove!”
Bridget stared at the Dowager Duchess, her mind moving sluggishly. The Dowager Duchess truly was ill, like her husband had said. Bridget took a deep breath that shuddered in her chest. “I apologize for upsetting you,” she said. “I just had to see the grandmother of my husband. I know that you were a large part of his upbringing, and you took such good care of him. He is….an honest man. Trustworthy. Maybe a little chivalrous, even.”
Her Grace’s eyes darted to Bridget’s face. She still had a wild, hunted look, but at the mention ofLewis, something nearly imperceptible changed in her posture. The Dowager Duchessuncurled her fingers just a little from the banister, her hand visibly shaking.
“I learn more about my husband every day,” Bridget said. “With each new finding, I realize that I want to share more and more of my life with him...I’d like to be part of your life, too.”
