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Mrs. MacInnes gasped, then looked at Anne. “No Mr. Barrow? No husband to speak of? But you have a son? Oh no. No indeed. This is beyond the pale. Why—”
Anne was also taken aback, but part of being a duchess meant that she never showed shock before a guest. Miss Barrow might not be a guest of the estate, but she was a guest at this table and deserved to be treated with kindness and dignity. “Your son is lucky to have you as both mother and father,” she said firmly. “What a difficultand rewarding thing it must have been to rear him by yourself. Well done, Miss Barrow. I applaud you.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
Anne quelled Mrs. MacInnes’s disagreement with a cool stare, and she spluttered herself into silence. Miss Barrow smiled at her, a little ruefully, and Anne wondered how often she had to disclose and defend her situation.
It didn’t seem fair.
Miss Barrow was indeed an unusual woman with unusual ideals. Her life was so very different from her own. It wasfree. Free of the heavy mantle of Society’s strictures, if she was so unbothered about her son’s parentage.
Anne indulged herself for a while longer, listening to Mrs. MacInnes unbend under Miss Barrow’s charm and start talking again about favorite cake recipes.
“I am sorry to break up this gathering, but I must meet with the committee now for our meeting.”
Mrs. MacInnes rose. “Of course, Your Grace. I shall send up another dessert with the tea when they arrive, shall I? We have petit fours, and chocolate biscuits—”
Anne met Miss Barrow’s eyes. “I definitely want more cake,” she said, but she meant she wanted more ofthis. More of these moments, outside of her real life and responsibilities, precious parcels of stolen time for her. Like extra icing on the cake.
Miss Barrow grinned at her, and Anne knew that somehow, she understood.
Chapter Six
It had taken a full day of work, but finally the footmen grunted their way out the door with the last mahogany chair, and Letty stood alone. It had been an exhausting chore to map out where all the furniture would go after Mrs. MacInnes told her there was no room in the attics, and she had helped with her fair share of the moving as well. She had never thought that she would be anywhere near a duke’s bedchamber in her life, and she wanted to take a moment to appreciate the opportunity.
It gleamed now, the scent of lye and lemon thick in the air. Her back ached and her feet were sore, but Letty reveled in the feeling of a job well started. This was one of her favorite parts of the process, when the space was fresh and charged with potential.
It was beautiful. Soaring ceilings, wood floors that lacked a single nick or scuff, windows so large and so numerous that the tax on them alone must cost a fortune. It was a dream come true to have an opportunity like this.
It was dark outside, but she itched to continue. It might tack an extra hour or two to her day, but it was efficient to finish the job now so that tomorrow she could start sourcing furniture, paint, and trims, instead of wasting time going first to Hawthorne House and out again to the shops.
Letty fetched a chair and table from the guest room that she had stuffed earlier with ducal accoutrements. She propped her toolbox of tapes and rulers and pencils on the table, pleased to see her humbleworking tools on top of a Hepplewhite table. It didn’t look like it had ever held anything more useful than a vase of flowers.
Everything was ornamental in this house. Of course, functional furniture would have its place in the servant’s domain. She snapped her tape along the baseboard and took note of the measurement. Had the duchess considered the servants’ quarters to be part of her decree to change everything? Probably not. She likely wasn’t thinking of the people who worked there, despite all that Letty could do to improve the lives of the servants. She had noticed that Mrs. MacInnes’s parlor could use fresh paint. Kitchens often had a need for new ironing boards, better ovens. Maybe even something newfangled, like a furnace.
Letty looked down at her sketchbook. Everything was laid out now on the page, with most of the important measurements noted. She needed one more for the fireplace, and then she would be done.
As she slid her tape over the carved marble, she was suddenly aware that she was no longer alone.
The Duchess of Hawthorne was several inches shorter than Letty, but when she looked down her nose it gave the illusion of much greater height. “Miss Barrow, it is good to see you again in Hawthorne House.”
Her accent was so refined, her voice clear and high as a bell. She loved hearing the duchess talk. Letty knew she still had the tones of Lincolnshire in her own voice, tempered by the London accents that she had grown accustomed to over the decades of living here.
She straightened, the tape dangling from her hand. “Your Grace, I was finishing up a few measurements.”
The duchess inclined her head a regal quarter inch. Had she practiced such precision before marrying the duke, or did such manners come with the experience of the position? She longed to ask, though surely the duchess would merely continue to gaze at her with thoughtful gravity.
“I didn’t think you kept such long hours.” The duchess went to the window, bereft now of curtains. The night sky was gray with cloud and smoke and fog, and bare tree branches waved in the wind.“It’s been so long that I was in this room that I have quite forgotten the view.”
“The view is exceptional,” Letty said, but her eyes had strayed to the duchess’s bottom.
She was all covered up as usual, firmly buttoned from throat to wrist to ankle in an emerald day dress that set off her pale hair. Letty thought it a shame that she would never see the duchess in the first stare of elegance. It was her sad lot in life to never be lucky enough to be seated across from her at dinner, allowing her eyes to linger over her chest in a low-cut sparkling silk evening gown.
The very idea of dining with a duchess was absurd. Nothing more than a Banbury tale—and everyone knew such fairy stories never came true.
Letty cleared her throat. “The work is progressing smoothly, Your Grace. Tomorrow, I had thought to start looking at furnishings.”
The duchess frowned. “So soon?”
