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Mary cleared her throat, her eyes darting away. “Hmm,” she assented.

“You were there when Lord Richard Marley died?”

The woman flinched and paled, her eyes tearing. “Y-yes,” she mumbled.

“How did he die?”

“H-he fell from a tree when he climbed too high and the branch broke. It was … tragic. Lady Jane, I mean Her Grace, was devastated. She cried for months and often woke up screaming for him in the night. It was heartbreaking. She experienced so much tragedy. I-I wish she could have found her happiness. His Grace is a kind man, but I don’t think he had enough time to h-help her before she fell ill. I do not think she had the will to live. She became a sad and lonely girl—quite timid after the accident in the orchard. It was like her light had left her.”

Annabel felt her own eyes well up in response. “I am glad you were here for her.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. I did my best to comfort her, but our difference in stations made it difficult.”

Drawing on her resolve, Annabel asked the question that must be asked. The maid would be unhappy, but the information was too important to not press the issue. “Mary, His Grace does not seem to be aware of Lord Richard. Why would that be?”

Mary’s face tensed in distress, her blue eyes darting nervously.

“Mary, I would not ask if it was not important. Please, I need to understand.”

“The-the earl was devastated by the loss of his heir. He—he ordered all signs of mourning to be removed and forbade the mention of the little lord, even removing all his belongings and instructing the gardeners to burn it all. A servant was dismissed for mentioning the young lord, and … Lady Jane was locked in her room for three days with only bread and water after she asked where her brother was, because she was not present at his accident. Her nanny had to comfort her and keep her night terrors a secret. I only know of her troubles because I would watch the young lady on Nanny’s days off, and she warned me to hide Lady Jane’s grieving from his lordship. People react in different ways to loss, but it was not—it was not a healthy situation because she was not permitted to mourn or talk about it. Within weeks, it was as if the young master had never existed, except in Her Grace’s nightmares.”

Annabel fell silent, brooding as she thought about what her own life would have been like if the baron had not simply ignored her after her mother’s death—if she had not had Mrs. Harris, Brendan, and even Richard to comfort her during her own period of loss as a young girl. Her heart fluttered in compassion for the tragic late duchess. The circumstances that Mary described were not healthy, for there had been no healing if there was no acknowledgment of the Marley family’s loss. Instead, the grief must have festered, encysted deep within the late duchess’s soul.

After several moments of silence, Mary took her opportunity to hastily depart the room.

What should Annabel do with this information? She was now certain it explained the events of three years prior. It had a bearing on their current circumstances. How would Philip react if he learned Richard Balfour had been innocent of the accusations heaped on him?

Bosh—innocent of these particular accusations, at least.

Richard did not deserve her regard, so she did not owe him the truth. Philip did deserve her regard, but this information might ruin the fledgling marriage they were building.

Surely Philip would regret his choice of wife when he knew he had chosen her in error to hit back at his cousin, who was guiltless of this particular wrongdoing. And Philip had been so cheerful since the morning he had shared the pain of his past. He was more relaxed; he smiled more readily. Did it serve any purpose to dredge up the past or lay new guilt about snubbing his closest friend?

All her questions were causing Annabel’s head to ache. Best she forget what she had learned for now. She could sort this out once her thoughts were clearer.

* * *

Philip was making his way down the hall to the library when he heard raised voices coming from the servants’ passage near the dining room. He stopped in consternation and looked back. The door stood cracked open like someone had intended to close it, but it had failed to latch. Curious, he wandered closer to the door.

He could make out the hoarse voice of his butler, Clinton.

“You harridan, I will never understand how the duke consented to have a termagant like you working in this household!”

“I don’t know what a termagant is, but I can’t think why someone wonderful such as the duke would have such a stuffed shirt running his household!”

“Shrew!”

“Prig!”

Philip frowned in confusion. It appeared his senior servants did not get along. He considered entering to demand an explanation when a thought occurred to him.

“I will inform the duke of your lax attitude to your duties. One can only hope he will reach the conclusion that a new housekeeper is the only solution. I have seen no one handling the silver in that manner!”

“Then you have seen no one handle silver correctly until you had the privilege of my presence, you old dog.” The housekeeper’s voice was low but menacing.

His suspicions confirmed, Philip gently shut the door and left the two alone to their contentions. He shook his head in amusement as he continued his search for Annabel, who he was certain would be in the library.

Chapter Sixteen