Page 2 of The Duke’s Wager

She knew exactly what he meant – she knew it far too well.

“I wish I could see my mama too, Edward… but I know that she would not want me to be sad. She’d want me to remember her, to think of the good memories, the time we spent together. She… she used to tell me stories, and they always had a happy ending. And whenever I get too sad, I think of those stories.”

A smile had formed on her own lips now as she thought about her mother. “I think of those stories when I miss her,” she continued, “and it almost feels like she is right here with me.”

“I…” Edward spoke quietly, his voice hoarse from the tears he had shed. “I used to go riding with my father. And sometimes, Mother danced with me and we’d sing songs together.”

Lucy nodded eagerly. Something inside her truly wanted this boy to feel better. “Exactly, those things… when you think of them, it’ll be like a part of them never left. But…” She smiled gently and rested her head against his shoulder. “But you can cry if you want to. Sometimes that helps too.”

Edward swallowed at this, and Lucy could feel his chest heaving with a soft sob. “Will you stay with me?” he asked. “Please? I don’t want to be alone.” Their fingers tangled together on her lap, and Edward settled his own head against hers. “You don’t have to stay. I mean… if you don’t want to… but I’d like it if you did.”

Lucy looked down at the entangled hands on her lap. Next to her, Edward’s breath had slowed. He was no longer sobbing, even though there were still tears in his voice.

“I won’t leave you alone. I promise.”

It was a promise spoken with the sincerity only a child could have – one filled with honesty and kindness, bereft of any expectation.

For an hour, the two sat with their backs against the tree, grateful to have someone with whom they could share and be with in their unhappiness.

CHAPTER ONE

The lightning was close – far too close – and Lucy could feel an icy terror scraping at her bones. She knew this feeling all too well and there was only one person who could put her racing mind at ease when the stormy weather scared her.

“Mama?”

Lucy climbed out of her bed nervously. The floor was cold underneath her bare feet, but she hardly noticed it. She needed to see her mother, and it was this thought that kept her moving forward, scared though she was.

“Mama, where are you?”

The long, dark hallway loomed threateningly in front of her, and she froze. The dark had always terrified her, and with the raging storm outside, her fear was even worse.

The house was quiet – too quiet. She could hear the howling of the wind and the falling of the rain; she could hear nothing but the sounds of the storm. Why was the hallway so excruciatingly long? It worsened her terror, and Lucy swallowed dryly.

“Mama, please…” Though she had hoped for a loud call to leave her lips, her words had come out in a trembling whisper that disappeared into the storm. “Where are you?”

She moved forward hesitantly, step by step, until she finally reached her destination: mama and papa’s bedchambers. Her hand hesitated on the doorknob and when she finally turned it, it creaked in the silence.

Cold.

It was the first thing she registered when the door finally opened.

Icy cold.

Only once her frail body had adapted to the iciness of the room did Lucy take her time to look around.

The normally neat room was in chaos, and she looked at it with wide eyes. Then, her gaze was quickly drawn to a portrait that lay in tatters on the floor.

Lucy knew the portrait all too well. It was of her mother. Papa had commissioned it for her birthday, and the artist had done an exceptional job. Now the bright smile and azure eyes were ripped to shreds. Clothes were strewn over the floor too, and the bed’s coverings were bundled at its foot, as though someone was hurriedly looking for something.

A shiver ran through Lucy’s body, and only then did she turn towards the source of the cold: the balcony. The doors were open, and frosty rain trickled into the room.

Lucy rushed forward, eager to close the doors and stop the cold from entering the house. It was only when her hands touched the handles that she noticed it: a pair of shoes right there on the terrace.

Mama’s shoes.

Not just any shoes… her favorite shoes. She had worn them all day, and she would be very upset if the rain ruined them.

Look over the edge of the balcony.