She entered with a smile and nodded at Harry and his uncle.
Her husband, she noted, already looked out of sorts, as if he would rather be anywhere but here.
“Your Grace,” Sir Richard greeted, rising from his seat. He bowed deeply but did not kiss her hand. “Pleasure to see you again. Please, take a seat.”
It did not escape her notice that he had just offered her a seat in her own home. Harry looked at her apologetically as she sat down.
The maids quickly poured her a cup of tea, and she was grateful she did not have to do it herself, as was usually the custom, because her hands were shaking.
“Well, how have you been? What is life as the Duchess of Sheffield like? Is it everything you dreamed of? I know you young ladies all dream of marrying dukes, eh wot?” Sir Richard chuckled, but she noted the accusation in his voice.
“I never had hopes of becoming a duchess, and this marriage certainly was not by design,” she stated, feeling the need to defend herself.
“Well, not designed by you,” Sir Richard pointed out.
“Uncle, is this really necessary? We all know how we came to be here,” Harry interjected, his voice carrying a hint of warning.
“Of course, of course,” Sir Richard said, his tone conciliatory. “Let me not be a Grumbletonian right from the start. You are quite right, Harry—we all know how we came to be here, and I am glad everyone is making the best of it. So? How do you like being a duchess?”
“I like it very much,” Arabella replied, lifting her chin. “I have found out that there are a great many wonderful things one can do in such a position. I have a mind to join some of the charitable organizations and give my fortune to those less fortunate than I was.”
“Is that so? And pray, which charitable organization do you have in mind?”
Arabella glanced at Harry, who nodded at her encouragingly. They had discussed her desire to involve herself in charitable work, but not in great detail.
“Well, I would like to join the Society for Orphan Children,” Arabella said. “Lady Morley also mentioned another association that helps disadvantaged families.”
Sir Richard gave a dismissive nod. “Ah, yes. The typical sort of organization women fancy. My wife was a member of both.”
Arabella couldn’t help but note a lack of enthusiasm in his voice, as though he neither cherished his late wife’s memory nor cared for these organizations. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was the mention of his late wife that he found displeasing.
“Indeed, Annabelle was quite fond of orphans,” Sir Richard continued. Arabella gave a polite smile, but it faltered when he added, “Yes, she was fortunate to be so fond of orphans, given that she ended up with one herself.”
Her mouth dropped open at the callous remark, realizing he was referring to Harry.
“It is tragic how loss can alter the course of one’s life,” she said softly. “I lost my mother at a very young age, and I know the same happened to you.”
Sir Richard’s furrowed his brow. “To me? No, both my parents lived to a ripe, old age.”
“I meant you, too, experienced a great loss that changed the trajectory of your life—that of your wife and child.”
At that, Sir Richard turned toward Harry with a curious expression, though Arabella couldn’t discern why.
“Yes,” he finally said, his voice dripping with derision. “Tragic, indeed. Well, at least I had Harry to keep me company. And what good that did me,” he added with a loud, unseemly laugh.
Arabella glanced at Harry, beginning to understand why he was not fond of his uncle.
“You were fortunate to have at least one parent left,” Sir Richard added with a sardonic grin, leaning closer to Arabella. “Though I wager there were times when you wished you had been an orphan, considering your father’s behavior.”
“Uncle Richard,” Harry interjected sharply, “that is unkind.”
“Unkind it may be, but it is also true,” Sir Richard argued, shifting his gaze to Arabella. “Tell me, when did your father begin drinking so excessively? Was it after your mother’s death? Do you even remember a time when he was not in his cups?”
“Uncle Richard!” Harry snapped, standing up abruptly. “You may be a guest in this house, but I will not permit you to speak to my wife in such a manner.”
Sir Richard raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Very well, very well. I was merely making conversation, trying to learn more about my new relations. I am pleased to see you trying tofind decent husbands for your sisters-in-law. That might make up for Lord Worcester’s poor reputation.”
Arabella stared at him in disbelief. How could he speak in such a way? Her father might not be respected in the ton, but he was still titled. Sir Richard, by contrast, was merely a knight, and even that distinction seemed suspect.
