Page 29 of Project Duke

The walls around the property were crumbling in a few spots, with the odd missing brick and speckled with bird droppings. The gravel driveway had weeds growing through it, and the garden resembled an overgrown forest.

The house itself was majestic, with gorgeous stonework around large windows though some of those stones were crumbling, too. One of the two stone lions flanking the grand entry stairs looked like it was missing a tooth and the other one an ear. And the double doors had chipping paint, the knocker hanging from a single nail. Above the door, the Kelford coat of arms had rain-damaged wood peering through the faded paint.

“I know this place!” Calliope exclaimed, unable to take her eyes off the facade. “I’ve passed by this building countless times. This is such a great location in Mayfair, and detached houses are so rare and valuable in London.”

She didn’t say that she’d always thought what a pity it was that no one took the time and effort to repair such a gorgeous place.

Nathaniel helped his sisters to climb down from the carriage after her.

“It is rare and valuable. It’s the only property from my papa’s vast fortune that we are allowed to use,” said Nathaniel quietly as he came closer to Calliope while Hazel, Poppy, and Violet hurried towards the grand stairs. “But not because it’s detached or big or has a fashionable Mayfair address. It’s because it’s the only home my sisters know. And I’ve been fighting tooth and nail to keep it for them.”

Calliope’s heart squeezed for him. What he’d told everyone at their wedding had crushed her heart, that his papa had punished him so cruelly by withholding the means to their survival. She wondered what Nathaniel had to do to keep it…

“Why didn’t you marry in all those years, Nathaniel?” she asked carefully. “Eight years is plenty of time to have fathered an heir.”

The ache in his turquoise eyes broke her heart all over again. “For the first few years I simply didn’t think much of it, I admit. Then when I knew I was slowly running out of time, I hired a solicitor to find a legal way for me to claim my inheritance. But a few days ago, I was informed there is no hope. That my father won, and I had to obey him. Even from beyond his grave, he got what he wanted.” He looked at the girls, who were already at the top of the stairs.

“Come on, sister!” cried Poppy, the cheerful twin. “Come in! We must show you your new house!”

“I just hope this won’t be a disappointment,” Nathaniel said.

Calliope nodded, picked up the cage with Miss Furrington from the carriage, and walked after Nathaniel to enter Roxburgh Place. Miss Furrington watched everything with wide, dilated eyes, her ears perked and flicking around as different sounds reached her, her whiskers erect.

Abigail, Calliope’s maid, who had traveled on the back of the carriage, approached her with a light piece of luggage in her hands.

“Shall I take Miss Furrington, my lady?” Abigail asked, throwing uncertain glances at Roxburgh Place.

“No, I can take her, thank you, Abigail. Well, here we are, our new home… I’m glad I have you with me. Let’s go.”

Her home for the rest of Calliope’s life. Calliope swallowed what felt like a stone in her throat as she walked towards the house, her stomach in knots. What had she gotten herself into?

As she entered, a vast but empty entry hall met her. Patches of bare plaster peeked through the chipped and worn-out dark red paint.

Underfoot, the marble floor had a faint, intricate pattern that wove its way across the stone like a fading memory. The worn spots were evidence of the countless ladies and gentlemen who had walked and danced over these floors during grand soirées and balls.

A sweeping staircase showed signs of wear, the hand-carved balustrades in need of polish. On either side of the staircase, ornately carved niches stood empty, their intended occupants—probably statues and vases—long gone, leaving behind only vague outlines on the dusty shelves.

In the middle of the ceiling, a worn circular mark on the white wood suggested the previous existence of a huge chandelier. A lonely sconce now clung to the wall, its glass cover cracked and sooty.

There were no paintings, no sideboards, no statues, no vases with flowers, no chairs, and no tables where one could sit and calmly put on a bonnet.

There were, however, two servants who stood looking at Calliope with wide eyes.

Nathaniel looked at the woman in her fifties with a sturdy frame and gray hair tied in a knot behind her head. She looked at Calliope with sharp small brown eyes, two deep wrinkles around her mouth curving downward. “Let me introduce my wife, Calliope, the new Duchess of Kelford. This is Mrs. Nicholson, our housekeeper, cook, and lady’s maid.”

For such a large house, this woman was doing all that alone? No wonder she had a bitter expression.

Nathaniel looked at the blond man, who couldn’t be older than twenty-one. Tall and with a big nose and large hands, he was dressed like a footman but had blotches of dirt on his clothes as well as seams and square patches. “And this is Joshua Martin, our butler, footman, and groom.”

“All at once?” gasped Abigail behind Calliope.

Everyone stared at her, and she closed her mouth, looking down, her cheeks reddening. “Beg your pardon.”

“Between Mrs. Nicholson and us three, we manage,” said Hazel with a sharp edge in her voice.

Calliope smiled politely. “I’m sure you do.”

Unease washed through her. Only two servants managed this giant house that could be a respectable royal residence…