Page 50 of Unbound Duchess

“I have an idea. Wait here.”

Before Ellen could ask what she was doing, Madalene had dashed out of the room.

“You look so lovely, Your Grace,” Sarah praised once they were left alone.

Ellen turned to her and found her handmaid shaking her head slowly as her wide eyes stared at her in disbelief.

“Like an entirely different woman,” Sarah went on. “You have… transformed.”

Ellen glanced back at the mirror. In truth, she agreed. She looked…different. If only her insides matched the strength her body seemed to radiate in the new style of dress.

“You are so kind, Sarah,” Ellen said softly, turning back to her handmaid. “But tell me… How are you? Did you come back to work too soon? Has Jacob? Should I speak to His Grace about allowing you some more time?”

“No,” Sarah said quickly, offering her a reassuring smile. “Thank you, Your Grace, but no. The…the time we were granted to heal was appreciated, but Jacob and I were both eager to start life again.”

Pain slithered through Ellen’s heart.

“Sarah, I…I am so, so sorry for what happened to you and Jacob. It was my fault that you two were⁠—”

“Your Grace,” Sarah hastily cut her off. Her eyes were pleading as Sarah looked at Ellen. “Please, I mean no disrespect, but I beg you, stop. Neither of us regrets what we did to try to help you. We knew full well the consequences, and we were ready to accept them. There was a moment. A terrifying, horrible moment where we received the beginning of those consequences. But it was you that saved us. Now we are alive. We are married. And we just want to move on.”

Ellen slowly nodded her head, understanding now more than ever what that felt like. Her fear for Benedict still ran rampant, and she wanted more than anything to one day not feel that fear and look at him as the useless, awful man that he was.

Before either could say any more, Madalene hurried back into the room, holding out what looked to be a man’s kerchief.

“Here,” she said, pressing it into Ellen’s hand. “Put it to your nose and inhale.”

Ellen did as she was told, and she breathed in the scent of lavender. Taut tendrils of tension unfurled from her shoulders as she breathed in the lovely aroma, and she quickly took another deep inhale. This time, though, there was something else intertwined with the lavender. Something clean and lovely that had her rigid shoulders easing away from her ears even more. Juniper? Or cedar? Ocean salt? She was not sure, but she found it achingly familiar.

“Helpful?” Madalene asked.

“Very,” Ellen agreed, taking another deep inhale. “This is lovely. What is it?”

“Lavender,” Madalene replied.

“No, I know, but…but there’s something else there. Something familiar,” Ellen insisted.

“Oh,” Madalene laughed. “Probably Laurence’s cologne. All of my lacy kerchiefs were taken to be washed, so I plucked this from his room quickly. Sorry. I was hoping the lavender would mask his scent.”

Longing slammed into Ellen’s chest. It had been a week since their little rendezvous in her rooms, where he promised to no longer avoid her. He had kept that promise, she supposed, but the next morning he told her and Madalene both that he had to travel to London to take care of some important matters. He might not have been avoiding her, but his absence had been palpable—something Ellen had noted at nearly every second of the day.

It was made even worse by the increase in guards who suddenly infiltrated not just the property, but the house itself. Dozens of stern-faced, quiet men meant to protect her and Madalene in Laurence’s absence. Their presence was meant to make them feel safe. Instead, they only heightened Ellen’s sense of anticipation to see Laurence again. He was supposed to be meeting them at the ball in a little while. Geoff would be driving them. A man who, even in the brief moments Ellen had seen him, seemed to hold a great deal of Laurence’s trust.

Now, though, with him still gone, she was not sure if he would be there or not. It was that lack of knowing that made her wonder if she was afraid of seeing Benedict—or if she was afraid of not seeing her husband?

“Here,” Madalene said, holding out her hand for the kerchief. “Allow me to fetch you another. This one must not be clean.”

“No,” Ellen said, quickly tucking the kerchief between her breasts, “No, it is perfect. Thank you, Madalene. The lavender helps.”

Madalene’s smile was proud and instant.

“Wonderful,” she said, clasping her rose-pink, satin-gloved hands together. They matched her dress perfectly. “Well, we are ready and lovely. Shall we go?”

Ellen nodded, despite another wave of anxiety sweeping through her. She looped her arm through Madalene’s, and together they made their way toward the stairs. As usual, they passed the guards in the halls, their expressions unwavering as they bowed their heads in respect as the two ladies walked by. Again, Ellen found herself glimpsing at their faces, hoping each time to find that it was Laurence, not a stranger that she would see.

She was grappling with the disappointment of such lost hope when she approached the stairs, and just as she looked to the bottom, her heart began to flutter. There, waiting at the bottom of the steps was not another guard, but Laurence.

CHAPTER NINETEEN