It terrified and devastated her how easily he had gone from her warm husband with whom she had spent most of the day to the cold man who had accused her of infidelity—based on a column in a scandal sheet, of all things.
“I didn’t—” she sputtered between her sobs. “I swear, I did not do anything. I would never! All we ever did was talk and train Dash. I did not have an affair with Mr. Aldridge.”
“I know, Your Grace. I believe you,” Mrs. Silverstone said soothingly. “I am a housekeeper; it is my job to know everything that happens within these walls. You have never once been inappropriate with Mr. Aldridge, and he has never once expressed any sort of interest in anything other than his job. I know that you have ever only looked at His Grace.”
“S-So why won’t he believe me?” Nancy hiccupped, her chest feeling emptier with every passing moment. “I thought—I thought he cared for me.”
Mrs. Silverstone sighed, patting the Duchess’ hair comfortingly. “I think, perhaps, the problem is that he cares too much. Not just about you but about the opinion of the ton, just as he had about his father’s thoughts and his brother’s words. Now, he is bearing the weight of it all, letting his deepest worries speak louder than the voice that matters the most—yours, Your Grace. I am sorry that you must endure all of this.”
Nancy inhaled slowly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, suppressing a fresh wave of tears, caught off guard by how hurt she felt.
She had hoped that they would be able to laugh it off easily. Had expected them to make light of the situation. Instead?—
“It all crumbled so fast,” she whispered, sitting back with a sniff, unable to see through the tears that filled her eyes. “We had been so happy for such a little while, and in a moment… it all came undone. And I do not know why it hurts like this. It feels as though my heart was carved out of my chest… and a bag of sand was shoved in its place.”
Mrs. Silverstone stared at her with a sad smile. “Perhaps it is because your feelings for His Grace are much deeper than you realize.”
Nancy recalled how she had felt at peace when he kissed her over and over again that morning. How safe she had felt in his presence, her skin tingling with pleasure as his fingers caressed her. The surge of love each time he smiled at her?—
She stilled, barely breathing, as tears began to roll down her cheeks again.
Love. She loved him.
“I… I can’t stay here,” she whispered, rising suddenly. “I can’t be here. I want to go to my family. I need them.”
She half expected the housekeeper to discourage her, to beg her to stay. But Mrs. Silverstone only guided her back to sit on her bed, softly telling her, “Paula and I will pack your things, Your Grace, and call for a carriage. Just sit and rest.”
Nancy nodded gratefully, lifting Dash into her arms as she returned to the bed, lying down and hiding her face in his soft fur. Her precious puppy whined, sensing how upset she was, but he stayed still in her arms, letting her derive as much comfort as she wanted from him.
It took a little while, but eventually, the housekeeper came to tell her that her things had been packed and loaded into a carriage waiting for her at the front of the castle.
She proposed that Nancy wash her face before leaving, and Paula brought her warm water in a wash basin. The girl’s eyes were full of sorrow which made it difficult for Nancy to look at her for too long.
Washing her face made her head feel much lighter, but the same couldn’t be said for her heart which grew heavier as she donned a cloak and left her room.
With every step she took to the carriage, she prayed Richard would come and tell her he was wrong. That he would apologize.
That he would try and make her stay.
But soon, she was in front of the carriage and had not heard her name called once.
“Are you ready, Your Grace?” the coachman asked, offering her his hand.
Nancy fisted her hands in her cloak, willing herself not to turn around, knowing that her courage might falter if she did. Slowly, she nodded, shakily taking a deep breath.
“As I’ll ever be.”
* * *
The burn of the whiskey paled significantly in comparison with the ache in Richard’s chest that had been present since he watched Nancy walk away from him.
No matter how much he drank, the pain refused to fade, chipping away at his strength rapidly. He was unsure how to resolve this or what could be done about it.
Somewhere in his mind, a quiet voice had tried to speak up for Nancy, to tell him that what he read in the sheet couldn’t have been true. But then, his doubt was louder, arguing that he hadseenthem together on multiple occasions.
Nancy’s smile was always bright when she was with the dog trainer, always easy, more so than it had been with him. It would make sense for her to turn to him due to his neglect. There was no one to blame but himself for his incompetence and unworthiness.
He refilled his empty glass, downing its contents almost immediately, barely hearing the knock at his door. It persisted, seemingly echoing in his mind, and he let out an impatient grunt.
