Page 34 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

“We have an invitation for the Kirton ball,” the Duke informed her. “I declined. We are supposed to still be on our,” he hesitated, “honeymoon.”

Marigold admired the way she suppressed the natural chuckle that came at hearing this word coming out of his mouth.

“It was a prudent decision, Your Grace.”

They proceeded to eat and drink without talking or looking at each other. Marigold did not know much about marriage. Her father had been sick most of his life, and she didn’t have any friends, so she could not witness how they lived with their spouses. But perhaps that’s all there was. Empty words and shared tables.

The Duke finished his coffee and got up, straightening his jacket. As he did every day, he would for one moment hesitate, as if he wanted to say something that would add to the word count of the day, but he never did.

“I will be seeing you for dinner,” he said. “Have a great day.”

Marigold didn’t know and never asked what he was doing for the rest of the day. She didn’t know if he was going to parliament or if he was still visiting the docks, hunting for Johnny’s gang. He never told her, and she never asked.

“You too, Your Grace,” Marigold responded and watched his retreating back.

Marigold drank the rest of her tea and tried the delicious cake in her beautiful breakfast room with two footmen and one maid attending her. Yet she could not enjoy any of it.

She knew she had upset him that night. She had seen his expression go cold like a door slamming shut. She had tried the first few days to make it right, asking for his forgiveness if she had offended him, clarifying that it was not her intention, and he always assured her he was not offended before returning to his paper.

It was a lie of course. Marigold knew she had touched a scar that had not yet healed. But how could she avoid doing it again? How could she bridge the gap between them if she didn’t know what it was?

Instead of dwelling on the things that she couldn’t control, she decided to do things that she could, in fact, control.

“Call Mrs. Hodgins to my office, please.”

Marigold retreated to the small study adjoining her bedroom, and almost daily, Mrs. Hodgins joined her.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” the old woman came right on cue.

“Good morning, Mrs. Hodgins. Have you brought me the supplier’s ledger?”

“Like I told Her Grace,” Mrs. Hodgins said in her reassuring voice, “His Grace has always managed the accounts himself, or more accurately, his solicitor has.”

“And I have assured you, Mrs. Hodgins, that I do not need to see all of His Grace’s ledgers, only the ones referring to this house. And to be honest, I am glad I did so because from what I have seen, regarding the household, the solicitor had done a poor job.”

“Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that he is a man,” Mrs. Hodgins dared.

“Mrs. Hodgins…” Marigold went serious, and the old woman was momentarily scared. “It has everything to do with the fact that he is a man.”

The two women laughed and smiled as Marigold started going through the supplier’s ledgers. The numbers were a mess. There was no fraud, but there was plenty of inefficiency. There was money leaking out in places it should not. A few of the suppliers were charging double what was reasonable, and the payments to the staff were inconsistent from month to month which must be irritating to them.

“Mrs. Hodgins,” Marigold said, “I know His Grace does in fact have a great deal of money. The allowance I am given to manage the household is more than enough to cover even those mistakes, but that doesn’t mean that we need to be wasteful.”

“I totally agree, Your Grace, but it was not my place to say so.”

“Well, I believe it is my place to say so, so we are reorganizing everything. I am going to need new ledgers. I will cross-reference every expense. I will keep the solicitor in the loop, and I will keep a different margin for questions he might have. And I will need you to arrange some appointments with our main suppliers to renegotiate. Some of these numbers are preposterous.”

Mrs. Hodgins regarded her with awe.

“Was that too much?” Marigold retreated to her favorite insecurity.

“Your Grace,” the old woman said, “I am simply flabbergasted by your ability to handle the ledgers and the finances of this household.”

“I had to learn,” Marigold said simply. “You learn not to misplace not even one penny when there is no money.”

“I am deeply sorry for what you have been through, but if I may add, it is a relief to have you here. It was high time this house had a firm hand to guide it.”

Marigold smiled at the old woman. She did nothing more or nothing less than she had already done back in her own household. And now, she didn’t even have to be anxious because she had plenty of money to manage this. And yet back in Cove Manor, she never heard a compliment or a thank you for her hard work.