Standing in her bedchamber, she lifted a hand but made no other motion. Nor did he. He ignored the tickling sensation as the rain droplet slid from his nose down to his lips.
How long had she been watching him from up there?
Tristan weighed the need to know, before deciding it wasn’t worth the conversation. The less they spoke, the better. So he offered a slight nod and continued on his way to the house.
All the while, he wondered how similar Verity might be to Cassandra.
Unease coiled tight in his guts. How careful would he need to be this time?
CHAPTER 8
Verity jumped when someone knocked on her door. Moving away from the window where she had watched her husband make his way back to the house, she wondered why his friend had returned. But then he left again.
Thinking about the strangeness of her new home and her new life, she hastened to the door and pulled it open.
It wasn’t her husband.
She relaxed even as she scolded herself inwardly, knowing it wasn’t possible. Tristan couldn’t have made his way up here so quickly.
Before her stood an old maid in a neat uniform, a cap covering her graying hair, her hands clasped neatly at her waist.
“Your Grace.” She bobbed a neat curtsey and lowered her gaze, before offering a slight smile. “Mrs. Burns noted that you do nothave a lady’s maid this evening and wished to offer our services. My name is Rachel Lingston. Might I be of service?”
“Oh. Oh! Yes, do come in.” Verity opened the door wide to reveal she was still in her wedding gown. “While my gowns are serviceable, I must admit that a little help now and then is most appreciated. Lovely to meet you, Miss Lingston. Or missus?”
The maid gave a slight shake of her head. “Never mind that. Miss Rachel will do. I can have my belongings moved to the room next door for your convenience. But now, is there anything I can do? Perhaps draw you a bath?”
Unable to hold back a smile, Verity nodded. “You are already reading my mind, it seems. A bath would be lovely. I’ve already put away the rest of my belongings. Don’t worry,” she added when the maid’s eyes widened in alarm. “I was glad of the distraction. I don’t usually keep a lady’s maid. Perhaps I will need one should I go to London.”
“London! How exciting! Are you planning to go there for the Season?”
“Not particularly. But I’m assuming that the Duke will need to go for a spell, and…” Verity trailed off, noticing the maid’s hesitation. “How often does His Grace travel south?”
Miss Rachel clasped her hands again. “I’ve not been with the household for long, I must admit. But everyone says that he never ventures beyond Halewood. It’s this manor and Scotland. Perhaps you might change that,” she added eagerly.
Mixed feelings rose inside Verity as she nodded, wondering how that might be. A duke surely needed to go to Parliament.
Except she didn’t particularly mind whether he went to London or not. Nor did she expect to go with him.
So why did she say what she did?
Verity listened to her heartbeat and told herself that it didn’t matter if she never went to London again. They had not welcomed her in the end, not truly.
Simply because it was my home for a time, doesn’t mean I am meant to return. It will be for the best. Neither of us there. Nor together.
“Your Grace?”
Verity blinked and then mustered a smile. “Miss Rachel. You are quite right. Never mind London.”
“Still, a duchess deserves an unlimited number of beautiful gowns,” Miss Rachel insisted, leaning forward. “Mrs. Burns hinted that you may wish to begin making some purchases. We can help you find anything you like, whether here, in London, or elsewhere.”
“Thank you, that is much appreciated. For now, I should very much like a bath.”
Miss Rachel nodded with a warm smile. “Hot?”
It was too much work for anything more than a lukewarm bath in the kitchens for the past couple of years at Redcliff Manor.
Verity hesitated. She barely remembered what it was like to sink into a large tub and soak for a while. And yet the allure was too strong to ignore.
