Edward turned to face her. “There are some introductions to be made.”
The staff lined the hall, their faces a mixture of curiosity and deference. Edward led Sophia past them, introducing her to each one in turn.
The butler, Hartley. The housekeeper, Mrs. Crawford. The cook, the footmen, the maids. Sophia nodded and smiled and tried to commit each name to memory, knowing she would forget half of them by morning.
“And this is Mary.” Edward gestured to a young woman with bright eyes and a nervous curtsy. “She will serve as your lady’s maid.”
“Your Grace.” Mary bobbed another curtsy. “It is an honor to serve you.”
“Thank you, Mary.” Sophia hoped her voice sounded steadier than she felt. “I look forward to working with you.”
Oliver tugged at Sophia’s skirt. “Sophia? Can we paint this afternoon? Mrs. Palmer said I had to ask you first because you are the duchess now.”
Sophia crouched to his level, ignoring the pull of silk against her knees. “I would like that very much. But I need to rest for a little while first. Can we paint after tea tomorrow?”
Oliver considered this. “All right. But you promise?”
“I promise.”
Mrs. Palmer took Oliver’s hand and began leading him toward the stairs. Sophia heard her voice, low and patient, drifting back down the corridor.
“Master Oliver, you must remember to give the Duke and Duchess some space. They are newly married and need time alone together.”
“Why?” Oliver’s voice echoed off the marble walls. “What do married people do when they are alone?”
Mrs. Palmer’s answer was too quiet to hear, but Oliver’s response was not.
“That sounds boring!”
Sophia pressed her hand to her mouth, stifling a laugh. When she looked up, she found Edward watching her, something almost like amusement flickering in his eyes.
The moment passed. Silence stretched between them, awkward and weighted.
Mrs. Crawford stepped forward. “Your Grace, would you like to see your chambers? They have been prepared for your arrival.”
“Yes.” The word came out too quickly. Sophia cleared her throat. “Yes, thank you. That would be lovely.”
She followed the housekeeper up the grand staircase, leaving Edward standing alone in the entrance hall below.
The Duchess’s chambers were grander than anything Sophia had ever occupied.
She stood in the center of the room, turning slowly to take it all in. A canopied bed draped in pale blue silk. A dressing table with a mirror framed in gilt. A writing desk by the window, overlooking the gardens below. Wardrobes lining one wall, their doors standing open to reveal row upon row of gowns in every color imaginable.
“The Duke had these ordered for you.” Mary gestured at the wardrobes. “From the finest modistes in London. He said you were to have whatever you needed.”
Sophia ran her fingers along the fabric of a rose-colored evening gown. The silk was finer than anything she had ever owned. The entire wardrobe must have cost a fortune.
“Is there anything else you require, Your Grace?”
“No.” Sophia managed a smile. “Thank you, Mary. I would like to rest for a while.”
The maid curtsied and withdrew, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Sophia sank onto the edge of the bed. The mattress was impossibly soft, the linens crisp and scented with lavender. Luxury surrounded her on every side.
And she had never felt more trapped in her life.
Her gaze drifted to the far wall, to the door she had tried not to notice when she first entered the room.
