Page 47 of In Service to the Duke

“Glad to know I can put a smile on your pretty face. Now tell me. What has you so vexed? And why do I smell my son on you?”

Those eyes and nose seem to miss nothing. Despite being as close to death as she claims, she’s still able to ferret out secrets, making our interactions dangerous. Clearing my throat, I sit next to her, trying to figure out what half-truth is the best one to start with.

“I- I was clumsy this morning and accidentally tipped my breakfast upon his lap. I hate to say I’ve more than likely ruined his breeches. Please, Your Grace, I am willing to pay from my wages if that is what’s required. He was quite displeased with me, and I can’t help but feel so ashamed of my actions.”

The motherly way she clucks her tongue as she squeezes my hand makes my heart leap into my throat. Why couldn’t she have been my mother? Why was I birthed to such a mean-spirited, conniving woman as opposed to this angel? The disparity is almost enough to make me cry again.

“Robert is fastidious in all things. Was always that way. Even as a baby, he fussed if things weren’t just so. Pay his irritation no mind. I’m sure he’s not even given the interaction another thought. He may have been wroth at the onset, but he’ll calm down.”

She pauses to take a sip of her drink and lies back. Guilt causes my heart to pick up speed as I watch her take deep breaths, presumably trying to find the strength to continue speaking with me. Such a mess I’ve made, and I keep making it worse.

With a cough, she sits back up and smiles at me. “Besides,” she continues after she catches her breath. “What use is it to be a duke if you cannot have a wardrobe to match? His valet has no doubt put him into something clean already. But surely some messed-up clothing is not enough to cause such tears as I saw? Or is it the fear of having your income withheld which causes your eyes to glint even now?”

Finally, something I can latch onto which has nothing to do with the duke. “It is certainly a worry. My mother- I- have limited means. To replace an item fitting His Grace… That would be quite the blow.”

The dowager duchess chuckles and shakes her head. “Believe you me. I’ve been in that situation plenty of times. Why, if I had a pound for every time I caused havoc in my employer’s household while I was their governess, I’d never make a farthing.”

“You were a governess?” Shock floods my system, rooting me to the spot.

“Oh, yes. My Charlie took a fancy to me when visiting his friend. Needless to say, even after he left their residence, he couldn’t get me out of his mind. Many think I cast a spell on him, but I know the truth.”

Leaning in, she taps her nose as if imparting a massive secret. “I was the most beautiful woman in all of England, and he’d burn down every last house to get me if he had to.”

Tears once more threaten to prick my eyes. That’s the type of love I want. All-consuming, awe-inspiring, and a tale to last the ages. Unfortunately, I’m left with intrigue, deceit, and an Alpha who only wants to protect his honor.

Not love.

Perhaps I’m just undeserving. Perhaps the dowager duchess is just a fluke. Girls like me don’t get a happy ending. We just don’t.

“And they didn’t think you tried to trap him?” Honestly, this is the only thing which makes sense.

“Heavens no!” she cries out before descending into a coughing, sputtering mess. After a moment or two, she regains her composure. “My poor Charlie pursued me. He begged me to be his wife even after I rebuffed him.”

Honestly, at this point, the tale borders on fantastical. “You refused a duke?”

“Why, Of course. I valued my freedom above all else. But with a love like his, he eventually whittled me down.”

And there it is again. Love. Lowering my head, I study our hands. So different, yet so alike. Fairytales only favor the few, it seems. Looking back up, I give her a soft smile. It wouldn’t be fair to push her in this state.

Besides, it’s time I go and lick my wounds. Heaven knows I have far more sorrow to pour out. I might write to my mother after all. If the dowager duchess can win the heart of a duke, then there’s nothing stopping me from winning the heart of another.

With a soft squeeze, I let go of her hand before standing and giving her a curtsy. “Thank you, Your Grace. You’ve given me a lot to ponder. I shall leave you to your rest.”

My heart constricts as she gives me a weak smile. “You would make a fine duchess,” she murmurs before closing her eyes. “Of that, I have no doubt.”

Turning, I blink away the tears, not wishing to have my vision obstructed as I leave the room. The breeches incident, though tragic, was entirely of my doing. To accidentally break something in this room would be unforgivable.

It takes an eternity to reach my room, but all too soon, I find I’m at my desk, quill in hand. Glancing up, I watch the girls playing outside, the glass distorting them as they laugh about without a care in the world. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve come to consider them my own. Can I really leave them now?

Granted, it’s not as if I’m really teaching them all that much. It’s more like I’m watching out for them and refining areas I can see are rough. Though Lady Margaret needs far more refining in her manner of speech, that will come about with maturity.

Lady Elizabeth can enter society now and find a match. That is, if her shy nature doesn’t keep her away like a tiny wallflower. Both ladies will no doubt find someone to love and cherish them. They don’t need me for that.

Dabbing my quill into the ink, I wait until my eyes stop blurring. But they never do. Fat teardrops plop onto the paper, staining it until it’s nearly unusable. I certainly can’t write to Mother like this.

As my heart breaks, I look over at the concealed door, wishing and hoping the duke strides through, his face just as miserable as mine. But he never does. Alone and unloved, I step away from the desk and flop over onto the bed, sobbing as my heart shatters into a million pieces.

CHAPTER 21