“That’s rather like what Lady Jackson said,” Cecily admitted. “But a child should have a family, not a palace. I want Lilian moved over to Greyhaven Park, and I shall speak to the Duke about it as soon as I can.”
“Very good, Your Grace,” Mrs. Barnes replied with evident satisfaction. “I’m glad you haven’t taken against the poor child for how she acts. She only wants His Grace’s attention…”
“… and will do anything to get it,” Cecily finished with a nod of agreement.
“You have it right, Your Grace. Only say the word once you and His Grace have settled matters. Miss Osborne and I will make the necessary arrangements for Lady Lilian.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Barnes. Now, I suppose I should…”
Turning away from the window and looking around the light, spacious bedroom, another thought came to Cecily.
“These rooms must have belonged to the Duke’s first wife,” she remarked, not disliking the idea but finding it a definite weight on her mind.
“Lady Victoria, God rest her soul,” Mrs. Barnes said with a sad smile. “It’s funny you should ask. When she arrived, Lady Victoria found this corridor too out of the way and chose a different suite, closer to the main stairs. Before that, these rooms belonged to the Duke’s mother, although she was never here. They haven’t been properly lived in since his grandmother’s time.”
With this brief history, the burden on Cecily’s mind eased, and her spirits lifted once more. She might soon feel she had the right to occupy the Duchess’s suite, even if she did not yet feel like the Duchess.
“Did the Duke not mind his first wife living in a different part of the house?” Cecily enquired further, curious.
Mrs. Barnes shook her head with a good-humored smile. “No, nothing like that, although I always found it pretty strange myself. I never wanted to sleep apart from Mr. Barnes when he was alive. Still, the Duke and Lady Victoria got along well, I suppose. It wasn’t a love match, and not everyone wants to be close, do they? Even a husband or wife.”
This well-meaning but lukewarm characterization of the Duke’s first marriage was as confusing as everything else about him. It gave Cecily more questions than answers.
“Was the Duke very upset when she died?” she probed, hoping that this would not seem too insensitive or prurient.
“Oh, His Grace was very sorry, I should say,” Mrs. Barnes replied, still somewhat equivocally. “Lady Victoria did a fine job here, and you won’t find anyone to say otherwise. She was a very capable woman and would have been a good mother.”
“So, did he mourn for very long?” Cecily persisted, finding that her interest was only roused further by these insights into the past. “I heard he didn’t go out in society for years.”
“Mourning or not, he was never one for going about in society,” Mrs. Barnes pointed out with a smile. “I wouldn’t listen to what the ton says about him, if I were you. Make up your own mind.”
“I shall do exactly that,” Cecily assured her, wanting her to continue talking.
“Well, it was a black day at Greyhaven Park when Lady Victoria died. Yet His Grace was more angry than grief-stricken. He blamed the fancy London physician whom his wife insisted on having. A fit, healthy young woman should not die after a successful birth, he said. Then, he announced he would only pay the man half his fee since he had only done half his job!” Mrs. Barnes chuckled briefly and shook her head at this bleak yet darkly amusing memory.
Cecily was unsure what to say, though she could easily picture it.
The housekeeper sought no immediate response, still caught up in her memories.
“Not that I think His Grace was wrong about that physician, mind you. These university men spend their days in dissection rooms and then come bringing death into the birthing chamber. When your time comes, remember that the local midwives are nice and clean and the apothecary in Greyhaven Village is very experienced, even if he is over eighty.”
Cecily laughed, but turned away to hide the blush she feared would creep onto her cheeks. She was a married woman now, and her “time” would likely come soon enough, even if her husband had not been over-eager to take her to his bed last night. He had made no secret of his desires before.
The housekeeper perhaps misinterpreted her shyness and checked the watch hanging from the belt of her black dress. “Dear me, here I am chattering on about such old, forgotten things, and you have still to wash, dress, and break your fast. I shall go back downstairs and send Gertie up to you, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Barnes,” Cecily returned. “You have been very kind.”
When she was finally alone, she went to the door at the far end of the bedroom and laid her hand on the rich, warm wood. Was it locked? She did not dare to try it and find out.
Somewhere beyond that door, the Duke lay asleep in his bed. Or maybe not asleep.
At that thought, Cecily pulled her hand back swiftly, unable to put the image of her husband out of her mind.
She had seen him disheveled so many times that imagining him in bed in his nightshirt was effortless for her.
Dear God, that only made it worse, just as the way her imaginary Duke smiled, blending the kindness she had seen at the altar yesterday with the raw desire he now expressed in the way he had kissed her several times.
CHAPTER 18
