To Love a Duchess EPB Read online

  He stood there wrestling with himself. He needed to finish his assignment. He didn’t need to cause any more conflict between the two of them. That was not his mission. The man he was, however, separate and apart from being a member of the Silent Service, wanted to ask what she’d objected to the most, that he’d treated her like a woman or that he had no intention of changing his behavior?

  Instead, he did a smart about-face and left the room, feeling that a great many things had been left unsaid.

  Suzanne watched the library door close behind Drummond before sitting back. She gripped the arms of the chair tightly with both hands, her fingers resting on the indentations of the lion’s paws.

  Why had she summoned him? She hadn’t seen him for two days. Two days in which she’d heard his voice from time to time. He had a low laugh, one that captured her attention. His instructions to the staff were done in a no-nonsense kind of voice as if he would brook no disobedience.

  He’d stared down her father. For that alone, he should be rewarded.

  The man was entirely too attractive, however. Dressed in his majordomo uniform he almost looked like a prince leaving for a night of revelry. He moved as if he were comfortable with himself. She doubted if his hands ever trembled. Or if he ever looked uncertain.

  He was entirely too intriguing.

  Was that why she’d summoned him?

  He hadn’t looked afraid. Instead, there had been a look in his green eyes that was almost insulting. No, not insulting. Challenging, perhaps. Almost as if he’d been daring her. To do what? Dismiss him? He was an excellent majordomo. Even the account books indicated that. He actually requested bids from several tradesmen instead of paying anything they demanded like Old Franklin had. In addition, he’d questioned several expenditures they’d normally always paid with the result that they were saving money at the greengrocers and the butcher.

  Besides, he was excellent at protecting her.

  Was that why she’d summoned him?

  Had she felt the need to be protected? Perhaps she had, but how absolutely idiotic of her to think of her majordomo. He was a member of her staff. He was in her employ. She paid his wages.

  She really shouldn’t have any curiosity about the man. Still, it had been nice to see him. He was looking well, fit and hardy. It was important to ensure the well-being of her staff. That’s the only reason she’d summoned him, of course.

  She shook her head at that thought. She wasn’t given to lying to herself and she didn’t intend to start now.

  For some reason, he made her feel safe. He inspired something within her, some kind of admiration she hadn’t often felt. He hadn’t sought her out in the past two days, reason enough to send for him.

  She missed him. There, the truth, as idiotic as it was.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Adam was almost to the grand staircase on his way to the library when he saw the light beneath the mysterious door. He didn’t think. He didn’t consider the matter before putting his hand on the latch and pushing the door open.

  He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t what he saw. The Duchess of Marsley was sitting on the side of a small bed. In her lap was a well-worn floppy yellow rabbit with one eye slightly askew. When the door opened, she looked up.

  What surprised him was her silence. She didn’t demand that he leave or close the door behind him. She didn’t say a word.

  He should have respected her privacy. At the least he should have realized that he’d erred in opening the door. Overriding that was a curious and instinctive response to the picture of her sitting there, her eyes filled with tears. He didn’t want to leave her alone.

  After entering the room he closed the door behind him.

  The walls of the nursery were painted a soft blue. Some shelves on two walls were filled with toys and some with books. He’d never imagined that one child could have so many possessions, but Georgie had been the heir to a dukedom. A child feted from the moment he’d drawn breath.

  He had the feeling that rank hadn’t mattered to the Duchess of Marsley. She would have cherished her child regardless. His own mother had been like that, making no secret of her love for him and Mary. She told him often, cupping her hand against his cheek, smiling into his eyes.

  “I love you, mo mhac. Never forget that, my lad.”

  Only later, when he’d been far away from Glasgow, had he realized how rare that devotion had been.

  Georgie had been loved the same way, he suspected, not in poverty but plenty.

  He came and, no doubt in defiance of every kind of etiquette, sat next to her on the bed. She looked startled for a moment, but she didn’t move away.

  The room smelled of cloves and oil from the lamp mixed with the duchess’s perfume. For a few moments they didn’t speak, sitting in companionable silence with Marsley House quieting around them.

  He turned his head to look at her. The duchess had a beautiful face, but the angle of her chin seemed too sharp. Was she eating enough?

  “Are you hungry, Suzanne? Can I bring you anything? Some pastries, biscuits? Cook made a roast and I know she’d be pleased if you had some.”

  “It’s nearly midnight, Drummond, and you’re offering to feed me?” she asked, brushing away one lone tear from her cheek.

  “Have you eaten lately?”

  “Now you’re my nanny?”

  He didn’t answer, merely watched her.

  “I had quite a lovely dinner, as a matter of fact,” she said.

  He was somewhat satisfied, but he would alert Mrs. Thigpen as well. Perhaps the duchess had some favorite dishes that Grace could make to tempt her appetite.

  “How old was he?” he finally asked.

  She blinked at him. That was all. For a moment he didn’t think she was going to answer, but then she did, the words filled with tears.

  “Georgie was three,” she said.

  “Gabh mo leisgeul.”

  “You’ve said that before. I’m sorry. Is that what it means?”

  He nodded.

  Her gaze went back to the stuffed animal on her lap. “Thank you.”

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “I had a cold,” she said, brushing the fur on the floppy-eared rabbit. “Isn’t that odd? I haven’t had a cold since.”

  She didn’t speak for a moment and he didn’t urge her to continue, content to sit and wait.

  “George was impatient with sickness. George was impatient about most things. He was all for visiting his second cousin,” she added after several minutes. “He’s the current Duke of Marsley. Poor man never expected to be duke and was shocked by it, I think. He married an heiress, which is a good thing because there’s no money to go with the title.”

  She looked at the ceiling and the walls of the nursery as if to encompass the whole of Marsley House. “This is an expensive place to maintain. You might call it the price of George’s bachelorhood. My father bought him for me. He’d always wanted to be connected to the peerage and now he has a duchess for a daughter.”

  She smiled slightly, but the expression had no humor in it.

  “That day, George wanted to take Georgie and his nurse with him. I asked him to wait, but he wouldn’t. I told him that it was too cold, that the weather would warm in a few days, but he didn’t listen. No one could get George to do something he didn’t want to do. So I waved them goodbye from the front steps. I expected them back by nightfall and when they didn’t return, I knew. I knew something terrible had happened, although I didn’t learn exactly what until the next day.”

  She lifted her eyes to him. In them was the same expression he had seen that first night, endless grief.

  “The bridge collapsed. Who expects a bridge to collapse? But it did and the carriage plunged into the water. The coachman was saved and the nurse, but not Georgie or his father.”

  She arranged the rabbit on her lap and took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve often thought of them together in those last moments. George would hold
Georgie in the freezing water and reassure him. He wouldn’t let Georgie be afraid, of that I’m certain.”

  He didn’t know what to say to comfort her. He suspected that mere words wouldn’t help.

  “I didn’t really wish to throw myself off the roof that night,” she said. “At least, I don’t think I did.” She glanced over at him. “I had too much wine and that’s never happened before.”

  “I’ve known a great many men who swear that they wouldn’t have done something if they hadn’t been intoxicated.”

  Her smile was barely a curve of her lips. “There is that, I suppose. I think it would be wise for me to avoid spirits of any kind from now on.”

  “That might be a good decision.”

  The room was shadowed, lit only by a small lamp beside the bed. Ever since he’d entered, they’d spoken as contemporaries. He hadn’t called her Your Grace and she hadn’t banished him from the room.

  He was loath to leave, even though it would’ve been the right thing to do so.

  “I should have known you were in the military,” she said.

  The statement surprised him. “Why?”

  “You have a military bearing. An acquaintance of mine mentioned it.”

  “Do I? No doubt it’s from hours of standing at attention.”

  “Why did you leave? My husband used to say that only failures leave the army. Good men stay and retire.”

  He didn’t give a damn about what her husband used to say, but he tried to answer her without revealing his contempt for the duke.

  “I found myself at odds with the aims of the army,” he said.

  Her smile made an appearance again. “Then the army’s loss is our gain.”

  He had expected her to question him further, but she only cradled the bunny against her chest, pressing her chin against the stuffed animal’s head.

  “This was Georgie’s favorite toy,” she said. “He didn’t take it with him that last day. His father didn’t approve of toys.” She looked at the rabbit and then at Adam as if introducing them. “His name is Babbit because he couldn’t say rabbit.”

  He looked around him, at the evidence of a child who had been loved and cherished.

  “Do you come here often?”

  Had he dared too much with his question? He thought so when she didn’t answer him.

  “Less now than I once did,” she finally said. “I used to find some comfort here. I pretended that Georgie was with his nurse and that he’d return in a little while.” She didn’t say anything for a moment, and when she spoke again, there were tears once more in her voice. “Now it’s almost too painful. I can’t pretend anymore and this is just a reminder of everything that was, but will never be again. I’ve finally realized that nothing will be the same. He isn’t coming back. He won’t ever be older than three.”

  She didn’t say anything further.

  He remembered the cruel comment her father had made.

  “You will always be his mother,” he said. “He’ll always be alive in your heart.”

  She took a deep breath and looked at him again. “How wise you are, Drummond. Do you often counsel the grieving? Or do you mourn a loss of your own?”

  “A great many people.”

  She surprised him by reaching over and placing her hand on his wrist. Her hand was warm, the connection something he hadn’t expected.

  “Who?”

  He hadn’t thought of the duchess as being determined, but the steady look in her eyes indicated that he had underestimated the strength of her will. She wanted an answer. Very well, he would give it to her.

  “My mother, first,” he said. “And then my sister. Friends, men I knew in the army.” He hesitated for a moment. “My wife, Rebecca.”

  Her hand closed around his wrist as if she measured his pulse or wanted to keep him seated there.

  “Tell me about her.”

  He smiled, but it was an effort. He rarely talked about Rebecca. Doing so filled him with regret. He couldn’t alter the events of the past, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to do so.

  “Please,” she said.

  Because there were still tears in her eyes, he began to speak.

  “When I think of Rebecca I think of sunshine,” he said. “She had light blond hair and a bright smile and a laugh that could make you laugh along with her. She was the sister of one of my lieutenants and had come out to India with a few of her friends.”

  He stared down at where Suzanne’s hand rested on his wrist, remembering.

  “We’ve come to find husbands,” Rebecca had said when he’d been introduced to her. “At the end of six months, if we haven’t succeeded, we’re going back to England.”

  She was like that, without guile or shame or even embarrassment. Yet she was so charming and pretty that most people forgave her any gaffe she might have uttered.

  He and Rebecca had married five days before she was due to return to England.

  “What is your name?” the duchess asked now.

  He glanced at her.

  “Your given name,” she said.

  “Adam.”

  “Thank you, Adam.”

  She stood and went to the door, opening it. He stood as well, knowing that he was being politely invited to leave. She surprised him, however, by going to the bedside table and extinguishing the light, then joining him in the corridor. She closed and locked the door before pocketing the key.

  He wanted to say something to her. A caution along the lines of, Don’t come here that often. Don’t punish yourself. Instead, he looked down at her, standing in the shadows.

  He took a step toward her, unable to bear the anguish in her eyes.

  “Suzanne.”

  She only nodded. When he went to her and pulled her into his arms, a space that she seemed to fill so perfectly, she sighed deeply again and sagged against him.

  They stood like that for several moments.

  “Some people cling to grief,” he said. “As a way to keep their loved one close.” He wanted to tell her that it didn’t work. It didn’t make the passage through anguish any easier. Nor did it bring a loved one back.

  She stepped away, keeping her head down. Had he angered her? Perhaps that would be better than her sorrow.

  “Good night, Suzanne.”

  Only after he left her, heading back toward his room, did he remember that he hadn’t given her the brooch in his pocket. He didn’t call out to her, merely watched as she descended the staircase to the second floor. He would see her tomorrow and give it to her then.

  The anticipation of that moment was a warning. He’d go back down to the library in a few minutes and start searching again. Once he’d found that damn journal he’d leave Marsley House and its surprising duchess behind.

  That day couldn’t come fast enough.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Where have you been, Your Grace?”

  At her entrance into the sitting room, Ella stood. She’d been occupying Suzanne’s favorite wing chair in front of the fire. A cup of tea sat on the table beside her. Where was the footstool and a pillow, perhaps, for her back? Suzanne was only surprised that her maid hadn’t ordered a tray of cake and biscuits.

  But Ella had always made herself at home in the duchess’s suite, hadn’t she?

  As she walked into the bedroom, Suzanne held up her hand. “I really don’t need your help tonight, Ella,” she said.

  She wanted to be alone, to think about the surprising events that had just transpired. Tonight, she’d acquired a friend. A strange and unexpected friend in her majordomo. His words had been so welcome and his understanding so complete that she couldn’t help but be grateful.

  She turned to see Ella standing in the doorway. Evidently, she was not going to get rid of the maid until she performed her duties.

  “I still haven’t found your hair clip, Your Grace. I’ve gone through both armoires and the carriage and I haven’t been able to find it. It’s very valuable, Your Grace. Your father will not be hap
py that it’s missing.”

  “Then we don’t need to tell him, do we, Ella? Unless, of course, you insist on reporting to him every week. Or is it more often than that? I noticed a flurry of correspondence leaving the country for London. Do you write him every day?”

  Ella didn’t wilt under her questions. Instead, the maid got a mulish look on her face: flat eyes, clenched lips, and a silence that dared Suzanne to question her further.

  “Tell him what you want,” she said. “I don’t care. Tell him I threw it in the Thames. Or out the carriage window.”

  “I should have accompanied you, Your Grace. I think I should do so in the future.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she said, walking into the bedroom.

  She began to unbutton the bodice of her dress. Ella came to stand in front of her, but Suzanne turned.

  “You’re dismissed,” she said. “I don’t need help undressing.”

  “Of course you do,” Ella said, coming to stand in front of her once more. She pushed Suzanne’s hands out of the way and finished unfastening the row of buttons.

  When had she lost all authority? Or had she ever possessed it?

  She stepped back, away from Ella.

  “Will you please leave me?”

  “Your Grace, don’t be unreasonable. Let’s get you ready for bed, shall we?”

  The maid picked up the nightgown draped across the end of the bed. “We don’t need to have an argument about this, do we?”

  “No, we don’t,” Suzanne said.

  Grabbing the nightgown, she walked into the bathing chamber and closed the door. Tomorrow she would ask Drummond—Adam—to have someone install a lock on this door. Ella had never disturbed her privacy here, but she didn’t have any faith that the maid would continue to leave her alone.

  She undressed, unfastening the busk of her corset, her shift, and the rest of her undergarments before washing and brushing her teeth. After removing her hairpins, she threaded her fingers through her hair before braiding it loosely. George had always liked her hair long, and maybe it was for that reason that she now kept it trimmed to just below her shoulders. He wouldn’t have approved, but George was no longer here to issue his pronouncements.