They broke apart at the sound of a loud, deliberate cough from the hall. Oscar straightened, smoothing his lapel; Nancy did her best to look as if she had been reading a lengthy treatise on household management.
Wilks appeared in the doorway, perfectly composed. "Pardon, Your Graces. The solicitor is here to see the Duke."
Oscar sighed. "Of course he is. Thank you, Wilks."
Nancy, still dizzy, managed a nod. Wilks lingered a moment, then withdrew.
Oscar looked at her, regret written all over his face.
"I should go," he said, touching her cheek.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
When the door shut behind him, Nancy sagged back into the chair, feeling as if she had just survived a storm. She pressed her fingertips to her mouth, trying to decipher what had just happened.
She was not sure if she wanted to laugh, or cry, or run straight to the music room and scream into the battered pianoforte until the world made sense again. Nancy opted for none of those things.
Instead, she leaned back, closed her eyes, and tried to steady herself.
The strange, unmarked letter that had arrived earlier lay on the desk like an omen. She considered leaving it unread. Then considered burning it.
But curiosity was a disease, and Nancy had never been immune. She broke the plain seal and scanned the page.
Duchess—
When your husband grows tired of you,
and you find yourself alone?—
think of me.
I have watched you from afar, longing
to be more than a shadow.
When your husband no longer wishes to be with you,
allow me the honor of loving you as you deserve.
I can make you happy, Nancy.
Say the word, and I will come.
Nancy blinked at the page.
Then she laughed—a single, wild burst that sounded more animal than human. She reread the letter, searching for a signature, for any clue to the author. There was nothing.
Well, that is…appalling,she thought.
She balled the letter in her fist, then, with uncharacteristic force, hurled it at the fireplace.
It missed, smacking into the carpet and rolling under the grate.
Nancy stared at it, dumbstruck.
Then, slowly, she started to smile.
She thought of Oscar, the impossible Duke who had just left the room.
