“Well done, Your Grace.” Mrs. Lancaster gestured for Margaret to follow her. “You have even remembered names the master sometimes struggles to remember,” she whispered playfully.
Margaret found her smile relaxing a little. Perhaps there was a way to make this place her home, with people that she could care for, even if Theodore was going to imprison himself in silence in some remote room.
“Now, shall I give you a tour, Your Grace?”
“Yes, please. I’d like that very much.”
Margaret unthreaded the veil from the back of her head and set down the bouquet she had carried with her throughout the tour. Placing them down together in the parlor, she looked around the room, taking in the sights.
Mrs. Lancaster and Betsy were bringing in a tray of tea and biscuits, with Betsy elbowing Mrs. Lancaster to get her attention.
“Ask her yourself, child,” Mrs. Lancaster said with an indulgent child.
Sensing she was being spoken of, Margaret tore her gaze away from the fading grandeur of the room and looked at Betsy.
“Can I help?” she offered, stepping forward to assist with the tray and placing it down on a table. Both Betsy and Mrs. Lancaster stared at her wide-eyed, Betsy breaking into a beaming smile when Margaret poured her own tea. “Now, was there something you wished to ask me, Betsy?”
“Yes please, Your Grace, if it would not be impertinent to speak.” She curtsied deeply once again, so low to the ground that Margaret feared she would fall.
“You may ask me anything you like,” Margaret reassured softly. “As long as we desist with such deep curtsies. I will not have you falling and injuring yourself for something so silly as a curtsy. A nod will do just as well.”
These words made Betsy beam every more.
“Do you mind me asking, what the wedding was like?” Betsy said excitedly. “The other maids and I were so excited about it. We saw the master go off this morning in the carriage, dressed all finely. Was it very beautiful?”
Mrs. Lancaster looked as if she wished she had not indulged Betsy so far. She paled and gripped her temple behind Betsy’s back.
Margaret suspected Mrs. Lancaster would have clawed the words back out of the air if she could.
It was plain as day to Margaret from this simple view of the staff that though Mrs. Lancaster may have known or at least suspected the truth behind the hasty marriage, the lower staff did not. As Margaret looked at Besty, she was reminded of her sisters, particularly of Alexandra and Penelope.
Though Louisa was older and of a more practical mind, her younger sisters indulged in romantic fantasies.
As did I.
The thought made Margaret hesitate, but for the world she would not have destroyed young Betsy’s hopes of a beautiful wedding.
“It was very beautiful indeed,” Margaret assured her. “The church was decked beautifully in flowers, all our friends and family were gathered, and the Duke was very solicitous indeed.”
Satisfied, Betsy offered to serve up biscuits, as behind her, Mrs. Lancaster released her temple and stared across the room.
Margaret followed her gaze toward another door that was firmly shut. Margaret knew from her tour that this was one of the two doors in the house leading to Theodore’s chamber. Judging from Mrs. Lancaster’s fearful look, that was exactly where Theodore was hiding now.
“Does the Duke often spend his hours in that chamber?” Margaret asked Mrs. Lancaster as Betsy hurried off, taking the bouquet away to place it in water.
“Many hours,” Mrs. Lancaster murmured rather sadly. “He always has done. Ever since he was made Duke and his mother…” She broke off, her cheeks pinkening. “I mean, yes, for many years now. I’ll leave you to your tea.”
As the housekeeper left, Margaret stared at the study door. She had a feeling that there had been more to Mrs. Lancaster’s words, a secret, that she had stopped herself from telling.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Good luck, Your Grace.” Betsy giggled in a delighted manner and took the second candle, hurrying to the chamber door with it. “I shall see you in the morning. Ring the bell if you need me for anything at all. I will have a bath prepared for you first thing. I hear it is often how ladies like to spend the morning after their first time.”
She blushed crimson red then left, leaving Margaret staring at the door in wonder.
The maid knows more than me about what is supposed to happen tonight.
Margaret turned to the vanity mirror on the dresser table before her, staring at her reflection. As Margaret had first prepared for bed, Betsy had insisted on finding Margaret’s prettiest nightgown. With embarrassment, Margaret had tried to hide the fraying ribbons on the sleeves and the lace across the chest that was now rather worn.
