“When the staff and I mention the duchess, we are referring to you,” he says, indicating me.
I raise an eyebrow sceptically.
“To clarify: the Duchess of Burlingham is the woman who is married to the Duke of Burlingham. Lady Delphina was married to the late Lord Henry Parker and, when he died, his only child, Ashford Parker, inherited the title and became the new Duke of Burlingham. Therefore, as his wife, you are Your Grace the duchess, Lady Jemma. The one and only, I dare say.”
“One and only? What about Delphina?” I ask, incredulously.
“As Lord Henry is no longer with us, she’s merely Lady Delphina Parker or, more formally, the widowed duchess.”
“So,” I ask for further confirmation, “I’m the one and only Duchess of Burlingham, am I?”
“Exactly.”
“And I’m the fully fledged owner of this house?”
“It comes with it, yes.”
I stop Lance before he can leave the room. “Lance, it’s obvious that you didn’t come to have dinner requests from me. Why did you come here?”
“Your Grace, the ambiguity that lingers in this house must end. The staff are under a great deal of stress, and don’t know whether to answer to Lady Delphina or to the new duchess, who, evidently, has not been informed of the importance of her position. It’s a matter of order and, as the butler, it is my duty to maintain it.”
So saying, he bows and goes out.
I am the duchess. The one and only. Delphina is merely a widowed duchess. Very well, I’m starting to have some ideas.
20
Ashford’s Version
The figures are starting to balance again. I look at the bank statements lined up on the leather topped desk and, at last, there’s no negative numbers that threaten my peace. Of course, it was a lot more convenient to have Smith and Derek take care of my finances, but given the recent brush with disaster I will never lose sight of things again.
Although he was a wise man, my father trusted people, but not having direct control of the situation resulted in his money being invested incautiously.
A light knocking on the door distracts me from my thoughts.
“Come in.”
“Ashford.” It’s Jemma. I’m really surprised to see her. Usually, her knocking isn’t exactly delicate.
“How can I help you?”
Jemma doesn’t answer immediately, she rather wanders slowly around the study, sliding her fingers on the edges of the accounting ledgers and on the archive folders, and then she sits in the armchair in front of me.
“This is where you hide from me.”
“There are many places in Denby to hide from you, this is not a huge discovery.”
“Not that I’m sorry. I have no reason to want to be around you.”
“May I know why you came here?”
Jemma fiddles with a pen she has found on the shelf. “So, the deal is that I must be officially introduced to your high society friends, take part in events and dance parties—”
“Most naturally, as my wife.”
“Well, the time has come for you to meet my family, then.”
“I beg your pardon?” I ask, baffled.
