Page 39 of A Duchess Untouched

All eyes turned to look at Selina.

“Your Grace!”

“Bless my soul. Look who it is! We were afraid you had fallen ill, Your Grace.”

“It is true. We have not seen your face around here in a long time!”

Voices mingled as they swarmed toward her. There were more than a dozen women, widows, washerwomen, and the like. Some even had small children with them, undoubtedly unable to find anyone to leave them with. Their faces were drawn and pale. Selina had some difficulties, but she had never known the hardships these women had faced.

“We missed you terribly, Your Grace,” Mrs. Debbs whispered. Her voice was always soft and weak. She even tried to give a proper curtsy, despite the babe at her hip. “Things were not quite as orderly when you were not here.”

“Aye, but now we know we are getting a proper pot of tea!” shouted a toothless woman from a corner.

Selina felt a genuine warmth in her heart. The place eased some of the tension in her body. She smiled as she moved among them, greeting each woman and talking with her about her particular woes. There were even hugs, even though some were too shy about the Duchess touching them.

Here, in this modest hall, Selina was important and respected. She was allowed to engage in meaningful work with her hands. Her charity gave her a purpose; knowing she was helping others gave her life meaning.

“I am terribly sorry for my absence, everyone. Estate duties have prevented me from coming,” she apologized. “How have things been around here? Have I missed much?”

“There have been some supplies sent, Your Grace. Mrs. Pike and Mrs. Hartley have argued over every single ration, but I would not call that news, as you well know,” another woman said.

“Oh, I hope what I have brought today will not garner fresh arguments. Am I right to think so, Mrs. Pike?” Selina smiled sweetly at the woman.

“Your Grace! We must consider fairness,” Mrs. Pike complained. “That is all I am asking for, and nothing more!”

Selina paused to watch the two widows argue as she clutched the faded fabric of a secondhand coat. She saw that Mrs. Hartley was beyond furious, her hands planted on her hips as she glared at Mrs. Pike.

“Fairness? Mrs. Pike, I have six hungry mouths to feed and clothe. We should also consider individual situations!” Mrs. Hartley retorted, looking just as harassed.

“Your family got twice the share of coal last month,” Mrs. Pike reminded the other widow. “Twice! Have you heard about another woman getting more provisions? It is hardly fair when I have as many mouths to feed!”

“How is my situation the same as yours, Mrs. Pike?” Mrs. Hartley argued. “Your two boys are nearly grown and taking wages, while three of my daughters are younger than eight years old. Now, who is not being fair?”

Selina let out a breath, steadying her nerves before approaching the two widows. Their concerns weighed more heavily on her as she realized she might not be able to provide for them if her marriage were annulled.

“Mrs. Pike, Mrs. Hartley,” she intervened, standing between them. “There is no need to exchange harsh words. More coal will be arriving with the next delivery. Everyone will have enough. We are also prepared to make adjustments if rations run out before the delivery. What do you think, Mrs. Pike? Do you think your supply will run low before then?”

“There should still be some,” Mrs. Pike said, lowering her gaze. “I am not blaming you, of course. Your Grace has been more than generous; bless your kind heart. I merely wanted to speak out about how some in this parish always seem to come out ahead somehow.”

Mrs. Hartley chuckled. “At least Her Grace need not worry over coal or rent, being married to a duke.”

Selina merely smiled politely at the remark as she continued her work. She tried to help with whatever she could around the parish, from folding secondhand clothes to mending torn ones, but her thoughts kept drifting to her own worries—worries the widows would never believe she had.

Rent or food might not be her primary concern, but failing to understand one’s husband and what he needed from a marriage was tragic. It could also lead to the same problem the widows had if she and her father had to leave Wentley after what felt like an inevitable annulment.

“Nobles do have their own matters to tend to, you know,” Mrs. Pike murmured, her mind seemingly drifting elsewhere, the previous argument forgotten. She snipped some loose threads from a fraying coat collar with a large pair of shears. “All those riches and yet… They have other troubles than we common folk do.”

“And what do you know about the troubles of the rich, Mrs. Pike? Your husband, as well as mine, was a coal miner, and you have hardly ever been in one of those neighborhoods,” Mrs. Hartley challenged.

“I will have you know that my sister works at a grand house; she does. I saw her in the market the other day, and oh, you would not believe the things she sees and hears in there,” Mrs. Pike said with pride.

Selina’s ears perked up at the shift in the woman’s tone. She knew what the beginning of gossip sounded like.

“Oh, and what did she tell you?” Mrs. Hartley asked as she mended a small blouse that Selina thought she might want to bring home for her daughter.

“She heard something from another maid,” Mrs. Pike continued. “Word has it that a lord was seen on London Road. He walked through the torrential rain, looking for a woman. Apparently, the maid was not the first person he had interrogated.”

“About the same woman?” Mrs. Hartley asked, frowning. “What would a lord want with some village woman or a maid?”