“I don’t know. But soon.” The words felt like sour lies rolling off her tongue. Georgiana hated the thought of Emma living with their father alone. Her sister was too young for this. “I’m so sorry.”
Georgiana hugged her sister tightly, close to her heart, before reluctantly letting go. She subtly wiped a tear away as she turned to her husband.
It was her only option. Though her father had been cruel about the situation, Georgiana wasn’t so foolish that she misunderstood the intentions here. She had needed a fine match. Now that she had a sister married to a duke, Emma would surely have every door opened for her in the future.
Though she could hear her sister crying in the carriage Georgiana forced herself to walk over to her husband.
“I’m ready,” she murmured.
The Duke glanced up at her with disinterest before putting his pocket watch back into his waistcoat. It was a beautiful piece, gold embroidery over green velvet, in his otherwise gray attire. The clothing was quite refined albeit understated, especially for a duke.
“Then we shall go. We’re taking a hackney, since I rode here on my stallion,” he muttered, gesturing to the nearby wagon.
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Georgiana eyed the beautiful beast behind the hackney, black with a white star and a single white stocking. Although she wasn’t that educated about horses, she knew fine horseflesh when she saw it. The horse resisted the rope but could do nothing. She felt the same.
Neither she nor her new husband spoke on their ride through London. It wasn’t until they’d rode through a few streets that she realized she didn’t even know where they were going. Though she was tempted to ask, Georgiana bit back the urge to talk until they had arrived.
It was a large estate two streets past Mayfield, where the house resided in a quiet corner lane. She was helped out by a footman. Her heart thudded as she stared up at the house.
Gloomy. That was the only word that described this house. She couldn’t bring herself to call it a home. An older estate built in stone with two gargoyles atop the structure, gothic ironwork used in the balconies, it appeared too grand for London. The place radiated coldness and darkness even as she climbed up the pathway, following her husband.
He knocked on the door twice before he grumbled under his breath, pulled out a key, and unlocked it. When he opened it for her to walk through, Georgiana hesitated. All that was inside was darkness.
“I’ve been away a long time.”
Glancing at Owen, she asked, “How long is that?”
“More years than I care to count, at this point. I would rather we don’t have the entire street gawking at us if you don’t mind.” Georgiana hesitated and stepped inside so he would follow. “I rent rooms when I’m in London. Those aren’t meant for a bride.”
She swallowed. “Oh. Ah. I see.”
“I did send them a message we would be arriving momentarily,” he added as an afterthought.
“Your Grace! Goodness me,” a woman at the far end of the hall cried out. “And, Your Grace! What a pleasure it is to have you here. Welcome, welcome. I’m sorry about the door. We’ve lost the knocker, you see. And I had to beg my sisters to come help tidy up. Already the master bedchamber is cleaned. We should have two more before the day is over. That, and the dining room.”
Owen glanced at Georgiana at then back at the woman who had finally reached them. She was a bundle of thick brown hair that kept falling over her shoulders. Younger than expected, but cheerful and bright with crooked teeth.
“That will be enough, thank you. I don’t know how long I will be staying here,” the Duke reassured his housekeeper. “Mrs. Helena, I would like to introduce you to Georgiana Comerfield, the new Duchess of Winchester.”
“My Lady! I mean, Your Grace!” The housekeeper curtsied.
“And this is Mrs. Helena. Her mother was housekeeper here before her and taught her everything,” Owen explained. “She’ll be able to show you the house and help you get settled in. Mrs. Helena?”
Bobbing another curtsey, the housekeeper nodded. “Yes, I can, Your Grace.”
“Good.”
Before Georgiana had a chance to think about what might happen next, again the Duke made his decision. He gave a short nod, took off his hat and gave it to the housekeeper, and then marched down the hall. There were no farewell or parting words. Not even a look. She had obviously been forgotten.
She stared after him, willing him to turn back. Didn’t he care about her at all? Was he going to just leave her in his house without any other introductions or support?
“Your Grace?”
Georgiana started, looking back at the housekeeper. “Yes?”
“Shall we begin the tour? I know it may not be much at this time. His Grace never comes here. Whenever I give my reports, he prefers I travel out to meet him in the country. Not that I mind. I like the countryside and all, but it’s a bit too much for me. It isn’t for everyone, that open air.”
