“You are the very picture of loveliness,” Kate remarks as she comes back into my sight. “His Grace will be most pleased.”
“How nice for him,” I remark dryly, frowning ever so slightly.
Kate has been my lady’s maid since I was but ten and three, and we played together as children long before that. She knows my expressions, my moods, and her brow creases. “Areyounot pleased with the match, my lady?”
Sighing, I shrug a shoulder. “It does not matter much what I feel. You know how these things are done.”
She nods somberly. “Well… I shall be there at last. And if he displeases you, or is beastly, I shall know it.”
“What shall you do?” I ask. My lips quirk despite myself. Kate never fails to lift my spirits.
“Why, I shall be your lady’s maid,” she returns, moving to the dressing table to pick up a small pot before returning to my side. She twists off the top before continuing, “There are a great many things I can do, my lady.” She dips a finger into the pot and withdraws it, then begins to smooth the rouge onto my cheeks.
“Oh, do let me know what you plan.”
Kate smiles most wickedly as she continues in her ministrations. “Why, I shall brew his tea in the water from the pigs’ trough. I shall fill his shirts with nettles. The kind his eye will miss, but his back will surely find!”
“Kate!” I attempt to scold but end up laughing instead. “You cannot!Hisvalet will be sent away!”
She shrugs, and gives me a look that is so innocent, I nearly miss the determined gleam in her gaze. “And so? He will surely learn his lesson in time.”
I press a fist to my mouth to stifle my giggles. If Mother hears, she will return to scold us both.
“Do be still, my lady,” Kate instructs, intent on her duty, even though her gaze glows with her mischievous mien.
I trap my amusement and swallow it down and do my best to follow her instructions.
“You did not sleep,” she observes, her fingers still smoothing over my skin in circles.
“No,” I agree in a small, timid voice.
Slumber deserted me due to nightmares of what my future might look like. Despite the new duke’s wealth and lands, he is not highborn. There is no assurance of what kind of life we will have together. But more than that, every time I find myself in his company, illness seems to nip at my heels.
“May I be permitted to guess the reason?”
I snap my gaze back to Kate, though she is intent at her work. She knows the reason, for she has been with me for so very long. She knew the moment an acquaintance became something more…and indeed, it is she who has hidden the evidence of my condition from the other servants. Though we have never spoken of it, I know it to be true. That has always been her way—silent and unquestioning loyalty. I owe her much, and I do not hesitate to share my thoughts.
“I try not to think of him.”
“No one would blame you for that, my lady.”
“They would blame me for a great many things, if…” I have fought off thinking of such things, for I cannot change what has happened. I cannot change my condition. But it is a relief to speak of it at last, especially to someone who knew him. “I miss him—Lord Ashbury,” I admit, my tone soft. “We were great friends, you know, before…” We were friends from a young age, and lovers only once, as a balm for the lord before he returned to war. We never had a thought to him leaving a part of himself behind.
“Yes. I recall quite well, my lady.”
My eyes grow misty over my memories—at the fear that lurks behind every thought. “I feel certain he would have made an excellent husband and father.”
“I think you quite right, my lady.”
“But…” Words fail me and I draw a sharp breath.
“War is an awful business.”
My throat constricts and all I can manage is a nod.
Kate sets down the pot and reaches for the powder. “It shall go well for you, my lady. I know this man was not your choice, but he shall serve just as well as Lord Pembroke.”
“Lord Pembroke was an unexciting choice, perhaps, and yet, I know him to be an honorable man. Every time my mind strays to the newest Duke of Fairwynd…” I trail off. I tell Kate a greatmany things, but I cannot confess to being over his lap, feelings the way the duke’s knees dug into my stomach.
