Page 46 of From Unwanted to Duchess
But of course she wouldn’t. She was her aunt’s employee, after all.
“It is lovely to meet you, Your Grace,” Lizette said after Frances had addressed her, as was proper.
“And you,” Frances returned.
She turned back and found that James had already walked away in the direction of the darkened hall.
“Shall I see you at dinner?” she called.
He turned and nodded. “I take dinner at eight,” he said, then continued on without another word. As though she were merely another piece of furniture to be installed and forgotten.
After that, Lizette escorted her up to the third floor.
“You’ll be staying in the east wing, Your Grace. In the former Duchess’s chambers. They offer the best views of the estate, if you ask me. A view of the garden on one side and of the lake on the other.”
Frances nodded as they walked down the hall.
Just like downstairs, everything here was handled with perfection. Every picture frame was perfectly hung and dusted, and the vases had not a single flower out of place. Every side table was perfectly positioned in the middle between two doors.
“Where are His Grace’s chambers?” she asked.
Lizette looked back and pointed in the other direction. “In the west wing.”
The west wing. On the opposite side of the house. As far away from me as possible.
Frances might as well be in Scotland for all the good proximity would do. Quite bad design, she assumed.
“You said I’d be staying in the east wing, in the former Duchess’s chambers.”
“Yes,” Lizette said cheerfully.
“And have the Duke’s chambers always been in the west wing?”
Lizette looked at her, her smile faltering. “No. The Duke’s chambers were also in the east wing, but they had been converted into guest rooms. His Grace has always lived in the west wing, since he was a lad.”
“I see.”
So perhaps this was not about her, but more about comfort, something James was used to. Still, it felt odd to know that he was on the opposite side of the house when they were meant to occupy adjacent chambers.
At the end of the hall, Lizette stopped and entered a chamber.
For the second time in just a few weeks, Frances could not believe that this was her new living quarters. She had been impressed by the size of her bedchamber at Aunt Eugenia’s house, but this? This was beyond the pale.
The bedchamber alone was twice the size of her room at Aunt Eugenia’s house, and she could have fitted her little room back in Bedfordshire into this space five times over.
“His Grace said that you had a limited wardrobe,” Lizette revealed. “So we have arranged for you to meet with a seamstress in town. It may not be the same quality as what you are used to in London, but she is?—”
“I am not used to London seamstresses either. I am from Bedfordshire. We have no grand seamstresses there.”
Lizette smiled. “I heard that you had grown up in the country. How very exciting. I have a cousin from Bedfordshire.”
“You do?” Frances asked, immediately feeling more at ease. “That is wonderful. You must tell me all about your cousin. Perhaps I know him. Or her.”
Lizette smiled, but there was something different in her eyes now. Hesitation.
“Of course, if you wish, Your Grace.”
I am not her equal. I must remember this. I am the Duchess now, whether I like it or not, and she has been trained to think of me as her superior. And the gulf between us can never be bridged.
