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The Duchess sat up straight, her shoulders back and her thin lips, reddened by lip salve, were pinched together.

“Ah, yes. As long as the weather holds, we shall go this morning.”

“The park? I must say, Aunt Judith, it is unlike you to venture out among the riffraff. And just to visit a park? You must be very fond of these young ladies,” Lord Cragshade said as he smeared a large dollop of butter on a hot bun and topped it with two spoons full of lemon curd.

“The park is on private property, Lawrence. Owned by Lord Haver. One does not have to surround oneself with the rabble.” The Duchess turned to Ruth once more, licking her lips.

The strain she exerted in order to avoid catching sight of Ruth’s scar was evident and Ruth knew what she was going to say long before she uttered the words.

“Lady Ruth, the garden is really only suitable for those who admire art. It is quite boring for someone whose interests lay elsewhere. I fear you will find yourself terribly bored.”

“Oh, but Your Grace, Ruth loves nature and long walks. I am sure she would be perfectly contented watching the birds and trees, and I hear Lord Haver’s manor is magnificent and will be of interest to Ruth.”

The Duchess shifted in her seat and exhaled. Ruth knew she was about to give in to Sophia’s request, but she also knew that she would be unwanted, and a burden. The Duchess did not want her there. She’d decided Sophia was the one she wanted for a daughter-in-law and any time spent with Ruth would be out of obligation and nothing else.

“Faith, Sophia, you are so kind. As are you, Your Grace. But I must agree with her. The park does not interest me, not when there is such a magnificent one right outside the door.”

Sophia’s face fell and her mouth opened as though she was getting ready to protest. Before she could, Ruth folded up her napkin and placed it on her plate.

“In fact, I have rather a mind to explore the chapel on the estate grounds. Lord Rotham told me there was an organ available. I should love to play it. If you do not mind, Your Grace.”

She looked at the Duchess. The relief on her face was so clear Ruth was sure everyone at the table as well as the servants had realized it. Although, the expression of relief did not last long. It was swiftly replaced with one of suspicion.

“There is indeed a chapel on the grounds. But when, pray, did Lord Rotham have occasion to tell you about it?”

Ruth’s eyes widened at the question. “I saw him at the lake yesterday. I was taking the air with my father and sister when a bevy of cygnets caught my eye. I spoke with Lord Rotham there, he was tending to them. Along with Lord Bronwyn.”

The Duchess rolled her eyes. “Ah, those swans. They are the bane of my existence. If only Kenneth cared as much about culture and the tasks that come with being a future Duke than he does those animals.” She shook her head but quickly returned to the matter at hand.

“Very well. The chapel is yours to use, as is the organ. I suppose it is just as well someone gets some enjoyment out of it, given that it sits unused most of the time.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. If I may be excused, I’d much like to set out toward the chapel now. Lord Rotham implied it was a fair distance.”

The Duchess pursed her lips once more and looked past Ruth’s face and out the window when she addressed her.

“It is. You may take a horse.” She turned from Ruth and picked up her teacup, lifting it gingerly to her puckered lips in a manner so graceful that Ruth couldn’t help but think she’d fit in at Court with ease.

“Does she not require a chaperone?” Sophia asked.

The Duchess looked up over the rim of her cup and shrugged.

“I do not see a need; it is not as though…” She stopped herself and turned to Ruth. “Have Charlotte accompany you by carriage.”

Ruth rose and curtsied at the Duchess, keeping her eyes fixed on her pale, drawn face. She knew the Duchess wished for nothing more than to be rid of Ruth. It was clear in her every word, every movement. She, like so many others, saw Ruth only for the mark on her face and nothing else.

She turned and excused herself, rushing out of the breakfast room as fast as was deemed proper. Ruth stopped outside in the hall, leaned against the wall, and let the feeling of rejection pass through her.

After all of these years living like this I ought to be prepared, I ought to know I will never be wanted, never be invited to balls, the opera, or even walks in the park. I should know. And yet, I continue to let hope rise within my heart and I make a cake of myself again and again.

She shook her head at her own foolishness and walked back to her chamber. She’d just have to do what she always did – keep her own company.

As she walked up the stairs, she passed by the same window she’d stood at the previous day and watched the Duchess and Sophia walk to the sculpture garden. This morning, it was someone entirely different who caught her attention.

For down below walked none other than Lord Rotham himself, and beside him, Lord Bronwyn. Both clad in their hunting outfits. The two men chatted with one another, jesting back and forth as the sound of their laughter traveled through the window.

She stood still and watched, a feeling of warmth tingling in her stomach. Then, when out of the blue, Lord Rotham glanced up and met her eyes, the feeling exploded into something different, grander. The warmth rushed through her body, down her limbs, and filled every fiber of her being. She wanted to be near him and talk to him once more. Why, she couldn’t explain. She’d never experienced such a pull toward anyone before.

Down below, Lord Rotham knew none of this. He and Lord Bronwyn smiled up at her cheerfully, each raising an arm and waved. At once, she spun around and rushed to her chamber, letting the door close behind her with a loud bang.