Page 14 of The Madame Catches Her Duke

The shift brought a new light to Leona, and the older woman grasped on to the question without reservation. “If my stringent son were present, I would certainly take offense to your question”—Leona laughed until she nearly choked from one of her usual coughing fits—“however, my prudish offspring is elsewhere so…I can share Pearl strongly believes that Davies, you know, the footman, is consorting with Pelton’s daughter.”

“And how is that any different from Mr. Pelton falling in love with the steward’s daughter all those years ago?” Marce asked, warming to the latest Hadlow gossip. Mr. Pelton, the butler, had caused quite a stir at the estate over fifteen years ago when he had wed Winifred, who now served as the Hadlow cook. It was only fair turnabout that their daughter fell in love at Hadlow, as well. “I am certain Mr. Pelton has no objections to his daughter’s love interest.”

“Davies is a fine, strapping young lad,” Leona mused, leaning forward to set her needlework aside. “Hard worker, too.”

“I think if you and Pearl join forces, the Peltons will have no other option but to allow Davies to offer for their daughter.”

“Very true, Marce, very true,” Leona clucked with a grin.

There was little chance that any servant would risk disappointing the duchess, especially when the outcome would benefit Hadlow as a whole. One day, when Mr. Pelton grew weary, Davies could very well be appointed as butler at Hadlow—and what man would not want such an esteemed position for their daughter’s husband?

A light tap sounded at the door, and both women turned as Pearl entered pushing a tea cart before her. “Are you hungry, Your Grace? Cook prepared a tray of those cheese squares you enjoy. Plus, the physician should be round soon.”

Marce stood, curtseying to Leona and nodding to Pearl as she stepped toward the door. “I think I should settle in, unpack my things, and freshen up.”

“Very well, my girl,” Leona replied, though her eyes didn’t stray from the tea cart. “Oh, how is your family?”

It was an afterthought, but a topic Leona took great joy in hearing about.

“They are well, Your Grace.”

“The twins—Sam and Jude—they are both wed now?” Leona knew it to be true as Marce had written of her siblings’ matches. “I do hope they are happy.”

The topic always lent a sorrowful mood to the room. It was no secret that the duke and duchess had dealt with the loss of stillborn twins when Rowan was about to depart for Eton. It was the last time they’d attempted to have another child, as Leona fell deeper and deeper into her illness following the deaths.

“They are both in love and deeply happy.” Marce suspected the news of her sisters’ happiness gave the duchess some sort of contentment, despite the pair not being of her blood or her not having met Sam or Jude. Marce paused before departing the room. “May I join you for your evening meal?”

Leona shared a quick look with Pearl before responding. “Actually, it is I who will be joining you and Rowan for a proper meal in the hall—along with Tobias.”

“Are you certain you are feeling up to it?” Marce asked, attempting to catch Pearl’s gaze, but the woman set about pouring Leona’s tea. “I can join you here if—”

“Heavens no, my child.” The hard edge to her tone told Marce that there was no room for argument on the matter. “Tonight, I will have a meal with my son, his lovely wife, and Lord Cresthaven. There is little telling when, or if, I will be well enough again. I will hear no objections.”

Marce kept her smile at bay. If there was one thing Leona knew how to do, it was use her frail nature to get exactly what she wanted. No one, not even Rowan, would refuse Leona the opportunity to dine with them if she insisted that she was feeling well enough.

“Until later, Your Grace.” A balmy sheen of perspiration slickened Marce’s palm as she reached for the latch. A meal with Leona was all well and good, but to take her place at the table to the right of Rowan and converse as a true wedded couple for an entire meal…with Tobias an unwitting accomplice to their farce? It was enough to have Marce claiming a headache and hiding in her quarters all evening. However, she was also hesitant to disappoint the duchess. Especially knowing the woman would face the ultimate disappointment soon enough.

“It is lovely to have you home, my child,” Leona called, nodding to Marce as she slipped from the room. “Leave the door open, my dear girl.”

Marce did as bid, the cool air of the hall surrounding her as she exhaled in relief.

“I do wish they would spend less time gallivanting about England and more time here.”

“I know…” Pearl said.

As Marce hurried down the deserted corridor, Pearl and Leona’s conversation faded behind her, and with it, Marce’s tension decreased.

There were two things Marce was certain of: Leona would not get her wish, and today was not the day to speak with Rowan about her decision.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, Marce would give Leona her final gift, and she’d request an audience with the duke before collecting her meager belongings and departing Hadlow Estate for the last time.

Chapter 6

The morning had dawned as most did at Hadlow, the curtains pulled back at exactly six o’clock to allow Marce an unimpeded view of the sun rising over Lord Cresthaven’s neighboring estate. The way the new morning light shone off the metal railing of the parapet of the old house across the meadow and reflected through Marce’s window, even from such a great distance, never lost its luster for her. It was something not found in London, where the homes were often constructed so closely together that light this bright was not seen in between structures until the sun was directly overhead.

Once the sun rose farther, and the household had begun to stir, Daisy would bring hot cocoa and set about laying out Marce’s dress for the morning as she departed the cozy warmth of her bed. It was a luxury not afforded to her at Craven House. Waking slowing, enjoying a few moments of ease before starting her day, and even the ministrations of a lady’s maid were indulgences only to be found at Hadlow.