Blanche only hummed in response, returning her focus to the task at hand—though her mind, traitorous as ever, remained elsewhere.
They were fortunate that, at the very least, Mrs. Hollis had remained by their side. With their family still navigating precarious waters, she was the only one willing to endure the difficulties alongside them. Her loyalty was a quiet act of defiance—a promise made despite Lady Gooldwer’s ever-delayed assurances that their circumstances would soon improve.
Heath had ensured their debts would be settled, sparing them from immediate financial ruin. Yet, despite this, the householdremained eerily still. Servants had been reluctant to return, whether out of uncertainty or lingering doubts surrounding the Earl’s reputation.
Perhaps, once Blanche officially assumed her role as a duchess, that would change.
For now, however, the absence remained—a silent testament to the stain her father had left upon their name.
Either way, for now, they had no choice but to make do.
Yet as Blanche glanced at Mrs. Hollis, working tirelessly over simmering pots and flour-dusted counters, she sincerely doubted whether she and Fanny’s presence in the kitchen could be considered anything close to helpful. If anything, the poor woman had enough responsibilities without the added burden of their well-meaning—if thoroughly dreadful—attempts at cooking.
“Do you think he’ll be all right?” Fanny asked quietly, tracing patterns on the rim of her cup. “Father, I mean.”
Blanche hesitated.
It was clear that his disappearance continued to affect them deeply. As much as they felt that their financial problems were close to being resolved, they both missed their father deeply.
“He must be,” Blanche answered, but she didn’t fully believe it.
The moment was abruptly interrupted as Lady Gooldwer strode into the kitchen, her expression a mixture of dismay and indignation.
“Look at you both—flour-covered, hair undone! Is this how you intend to receive His Grace?”
Blanche sighed, feeling the weight of her mother’s expectations settle over her like a familiar burden.
“You must go and dress properly at once,” Lady Gooldwer insisted, already ushering Blanche toward the door. “The Duke will be here shortly, and we must present ourselves accordingly.”
“Go on, go on, my ladies,” Mrs. Hollis encouraged them. “I’ll take care of the afternoon tea.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hollis,” replied Blanche and Fanny, as their mother hurried them along.
Blanche obeyed without protest, her stomach fluttering with something uncomfortably close to anticipation. She was not prepared to see the Duke again so soon—not after yesterday, not after the kiss that still lingered on her lips like an unspoken promise.
Lady Gooldwer followed her into the bedroom, barely giving her time to breathe before rummaging through her wardrobe with a critical eye. “We must find you something suitable—ah, here. This will do.”
She held up a gown far too ornate for a simple afternoon tea, its fabric delicate but undeniably lavish.
Blanche frowned. “That is unnecessary, Mother. I’ll wear something comfortable.”
Lady Gooldwer waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. Appearances matter. Do you think the Duke wishes to see you dressed as a pauper?”
Blanche inhaled slowly, holding her patience together by the thinnest thread.
“We have been remarkably fortunate, Blanche,” her mother stressed, pulling the straps of her gown tighter, adjusting the sleeves with practiced precision. “By some miracle of fate, the Duke has chosen you as his wife. But make no mistake—we cannot afford to lose his favor. Do you understand?”
Blanche exhaled slowly, schooling her expression into one of quiet obedience. “Yes, Mother.”
The words came out measured, restrained—each syllable pressed carefully into place to mask the thoughts she dared not voice.
“Good,” smiling with satisfaction, Lady Gooldwer watched her daughter, tailoring every little detail to her tastes and requirements.
Lady Gooldwer sighed, smoothing out the fabric as if that alone would fix their troubles. “Once you become a duchess, the first thing we shall do is purchase new jewelry. It is disgraceful that we’ve had to make do with this for so long.”
Blanche’s lips pressed into a firm line.
Her father’s massive debts might have been taken care of by the Duke, but that was far from secure or settled. They still had no income to afford to bring back the servants who had left.
