“Not a present one. He tried at first, but I know he has other things to do. He does not need to spend time with me. I knew what our marriage would be like.”
“That is quite bizarre, for I thought he looked at you with fondness. I would not expect that from a man who is apparently so cold.”
Adelaide frowned in the mirror. The servants all seemed to know Cassian well and spoke highly of him, and yet her lady’s maid did not seem to know him at all.
“Apparently?” she echoed. “Do you not know him?”
“Not particularly. I know that he has a reputation and that he likes to keep to himself, but anyone here will tell you that he is a good man to work for. That is the very first thing Mrs. Johnson told me. I was to ignore any rumors and see him only as he was.”
“And… how is he?”
“He is kind. He pays us well, and he does not treat us unkindly. He may not be the best husband, but he is a good man.”
Adelaide hoped that was true, for if the Dowager Duchess were to be believed, then she was in great danger.
They spent the afternoon in the drawing room, with Adelaide practicing the pianoforte while Lilly listened. She had never thought herself a prodigy or anything remotely resembling one, but she enjoyed playing. It had effectively kept her distracted when she lived in the north, and now she could use it to slow her racing thoughts.
“I do wish that I had learned how to play,” Lilly mused. “I so love music.”
“As do I. I used to beg my father to buy a pianoforte, but he insisted that I use the one my tutor owned. I visited him an awful lot, which I suppose my father liked.”
“Ah, I see. You did not like your father, then?”
“On the contrary, I adored him. I thought that he was the most incredible man in all of England, and that one day I would make him proud. He was a difficult man to please, you see.”
“Then I suppose marrying a duke helped.”
“It would have,” Adelaide sighed, stopping. “Had he been alive to see it, that is.”
Lilly’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide. “My sincerest apologies!” she squeaked. “And my condolences. I did not know.”
“You could not have. He has been gone for a long time, and I never quite managed to prove myself to him. It was never going to be possible anyway. Nothing ever seemed to satisfy him.”
“Then it is just as well that you are here.”
Adelaide wanted to agree, but she could not. She thought of the unkempt woman she shared a home with, who seemed to bask in her own misery and ensure that everyone else felt it too. As Cassian had predicted, her instinct would have been to offer her assistance, but there was no use. The Dowager Duchess knew who she was and what she wanted, and there would be no changing that.
“Did you have other plans for today?” Lilly asked. “I thought we might visit the gallery. You told me that you saw it on your tour, but I do not suppose that you spent much time looking at the artwork?”
“I did not. That is a splendid idea, Lilly.”
But as they stepped into the hallway, they were accosted by the Dowager Duchess.
As always, there was no expression on her face. Adelaide wished that there was, so that she could anticipate what was to come, but she was a woman of stone.
“You”—the Dowager Duchess jabbed a finger at Lilly—“go. I wish to speak to the Duchess.” She spat the title, as if it were poisonous.
Adelaide felt a chill run down her spine as Lilly gave her an apologetic look and disappeared. When she was with her maid, it was easier for her to forget where she was. But when she was alone, she could not help but notice.
And with the Dowager Duchess, she might as well have been by herself. If anything, it was the preferable option.
“Come,” the Dowager Duchess ordered, walking away at a surprisingly brisk pace.
“What is it?” Adelaide asked. “Have I done something wrong?”
But there was no response until they were in the parlor and the Dowager Duchess had closed the door. She pressed her back against it, her arms folded in a manner that told Adelaide she would not be leaving.
“You have not left yet,” she remarked.
