Page 43 of The Duke’s Christmas Redemption

Chapter Eleven

The key to William’s private study felt impossibly heavy in Charlotte’s palm as she stood before the ornately carved door. Margaret’s footsteps had faded towards the main stairs, where she would keep watch, leaving Charlotte alone with her conscience and the weight of what she contemplated.

A lady did not invade her husband’s private sanctuary. A Duchess did not stoop to searching through locked away papers like a common sneak-thief. Yet the memory of William’s face when Sir Geoffrey had spoken of his father’s debts drove her forward, pushing the key into the lock with trembling fingers.

The room held the musty sweetness of old papers and leather bindings, overlaid with the familiar scent of William’s sandalwood cologne. Heavy curtains filtered the storm-darkened daylight, casting the space in gothic shadow that seemed altogether fitting for the task before her.

Charlotte moved carefully through the gloom, mindful of her skirts against the furniture. William’s presence seemed to linger here more strongly than anywhere else in the house – in the precise arrangement of papers on his desk, in the way that his favourite chair sat angled towards the window, in the careful organisation of the shelves that lined the walls.

“Forgive me,” she whispered to the empty room, running her fingers along the spines of leather-bound ledgers.

The late Duke’s journal must be here somewhere, hidden among these carefully preserved records of Alverton’s darker days.

A flash of lightning illuminated the room, drawing her attention to a locked cabinet beside the fireplace. Something about its placement, slightly apart from the other furniture, suggested particular significance. Charlotte crossed to examine it more closely, her heart beating a rapid rhythm against her ribs.

The cabinet key proved to be the smallest on the ring Mrs Walden had helped her locate. It turned with reluctant protest, as though the very metal objected to revealing its secrets. Inside, Charlotte found stacks of correspondence bound with faded ribbons, several well-worn ledgers, and—

“Oh!”

The soft exclamation escaped her as another lightning flash revealed a small book bound in worn green leather. No dust lay upon it, though the pages had yellowed with age. William had handled this recently – perhaps even this morning, after Sir Geoffrey’s departure.

Charlotte drew it out with careful fingers, her breath catching at the elaborate ‘A’ worked into the cover. This must be it – the late Duke’s private journal. The answer to Sir Geoffrey’s threats surely lay within these pages.

But before she could open it, voices in the corridor outside froze her in place. One she recognised as Phillips’ measured tones, but the other...

“His Grace is not at home, sir. As I informed you—”

“Don’t play the faithful servant with me.” Sir Geoffrey’s voice dripped with contempt. “I know perfectly well he’s hiding in his study like a coward. I’ve had time to consider the result of our earlier conversation, and I’ve concluded that I am not happy – I’m not willing to leave it at that. We have much more to discuss. Now stand aside.”

Charlotte’s heart seemed to stop beating. She stood in the middle of William’s most private sanctuary, holding evidence of her betrayal of his trust, while his enemy approached.

She clutched the journal to her chest, her mind racing. The private study offered no proper hiding place – William kept it far too orderly for that. The sound of angry footsteps grew closer, accompanied by Phillips’ increasingly strained protests.

“Sir, I really must insist—”

“Must you?” Sir Geoffrey’s voice held dangerous amusement. “And how do you propose to stop me? Shall we see what society makes of a servant laying hands on a gentleman?”

The cabinet stood open behind her, its shelves in disarray from her search. Even if she managed to replace the journal, Sir Geoffrey would surely notice the signs of disturbance. William’s careful organisation had been wholly disrupted by her actions, and now...

Another flash of lightning illuminated the room just as the study door’s handle began to turn. In that brief, brilliant moment, Charlotte caught sight of herself in the pier glass – the Duchess of Alverton, pressed against her husband’s private cabinet like a thief discovered. The shame of it nearly overwhelmed her.

But there was nothing for it now. Drawing herself up to her full height, she closed the cabinet with careful precision, the small volume still clutched in her hand, unthinkingly. If she must be discovered here, she would at least face the consequences with dignity.

The door opened, revealing Sir Geoffrey’s startled face.

“Well, well,” he drawled, recovering quickly. “What have we here? Her Grace, the Duchess of Alverton, caught in a most... compromising position.”

“Sir Geoffrey.” Charlotte forced her voice to remain steady, though her heart thundered so loudly that she feared he must hear it. “I was not aware that you had intended to return to Alverton.”

“Clearly not.” His sharp eyes took in every detail of the scene – her presence in the private study, the journal held in her hands – hands which suffered a faint tremor that she couldn’t quite control. “How fascinating to find you here, of all places. Does your husband know that you make free with his private papers?”

“Her Grace need not explain her presence in her own home,” Phillips interjected from the doorway, his usual composure somewhat ruffled but his loyalty unshakeable. “While you, sir—”

“While I,” Sir Geoffrey cut in smoothly, “have business with the Duke that cannot wait. But perhaps Her Grace might assist me? After all, she seems quite... interested in family matters.”

The way he emphasised the word ‘family’ sent chills down Charlotte’s spine. Yet she forced herself to meet his gaze steadily, channelling every lesson in dignity that her mother had ever taught her.

“If you have business with His Grace, you may call again when he is at home.” She took a step forward, praying that he would not notice how her knees trembled beneath her skirts. “Phillips will show you out.”