As she sat to let Sylvie do her hair, she said, “I trust you are comfortable here?”
Sylvie nodded. “Oh yes, my lady. It’s a fine home and the servants are kind and welcoming to guests. They don’t even expect me to fill my free time helping, though I do.”
Charlotte glanced at her maid in the mirror’s reflection. “I suppose you have had a great deal of free time this visit.”
Sylvie’s cheeks darkened. “W-well, I suppose.”
Charlotte gripped her hands against the chair arms. She hadn’t called for Sylvie to help her at night since her arrival at Ewan’s estate. The only hands that had undressed her in that time had been Ewan’s. And likely the entire household knew about it.
“Have you seen the Duke of Donburrow this morning?” she asked, refusing to dance about the subject any further.
Sylvie shook her head. “No, my lady. It sounded like he left the house quite early.”
Charlotte drew back. “Left the house? Where did he go?”
“I’m not certain. They don’t talk very much about him around me.”
Charlotte looked at her again. Sylvie’s blush was even darker. “Are they polite when they do speak of him?”
“Oh yes, my lady!” Sylvie rushed to say. “They seem to have a great deal of respect for him. And affection. I’ve not heard a cross word about it, despite the fact that he can’t talk.”
Charlotte flinched. There was what Ewan had been talking about to her the previous day. The caveat to all discussion about him. People were kinddespite…he was brilliantdespite…he shocked themdespite…
She could well imagine how years of hearing those things had affected him. It was an enormous hurdle for her to cross, to make him see that there was nodespitewith her. That the “despite” didn’t matter and never had.
Sylvie finished her hair swiftly and Charlotte nodded to her. “Thank you. And could you make sure His Grace’s shirt goes into the laundry and is returned to his room? Perhaps with as little fanfare as you can.”
“Of course, my lady.”
Charlotte patted Sylvie’s hand and left her to the tasks of her day as she departed her chamber and made her way down the hallway. The person she needed to speak to was Smith, for he would very likely be the one who would know exactly where Ewan had gone and when he was coming back.
Because of course he was coming back. He wouldn’t just leave. She knew that, but the idea still closed her throat and made it hard to breathe as she went down the stairs.
A maid was at the bottom, dusting a table. She stopped in her work and turned to Charlotte with a curtsey. She was quick to direct Charlotte to Ewan’s study, where Smith was. Charlotte found the way and paused at the study door, took a deep breath and then opened it.
Smith was, indeed, standing before Ewan’s desk, organizing papers and writing a few notes for his master, about household details, she assumed.
“Good morning, Smith,” she said.
He turned and his expression warmed. “Lady Portsmith, good morning. We did not expect to see you up so early. I can arrange for food immediately in the breakfast room.”
“No,” she said. “Thank you very much, but I’m not particularly hungry this morning. I was actually hoping you could tell me where the duke went. I’ve heard he left the house quite early.”
Smith’s expression changed ever so slightly. The warmth faded a fraction and a professional coolness and protectiveness entered his eyes and thinned his lips. “He went to check the dam, my lady.”
She caught her breath. “There is nothing wrong, I hope! The rain has faded so much in the last twelve hours.”
“Nothing wrong,” he reassured her as he went toward her a step. “His Grace is simply…fastidious…when it comes to such things. He has received reports every few hours, of course, but he felt compelled to see the situation with his own eyes.”
Relief rushed through her, but it was tinged with a hint of disappointment. After her participation in the sandbagging the day before, she was sorry that Ewan hadn’t thought to take her with him. She would have liked to see his tenants and be assured that all was well.
Of course, that wasn’t her place. She was not his duchess.
“Well, thank you,” she said, turning away. “I’m very sorry I disturbed you.”
“You didn’t, my lady,” he said. Then there was a pause before he blurted out, “May I—may I speak to you about something?”
She pivoted back, surprised by the question and the tone with which it was said. Smith shifted on his feet, high color in his cheeks and his hands fidgeting at his side.
