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Chapter Sixteen
Letty descended the stairs slowly, still in a daze. Her body was shaking in reaction and she exited the manor from the back door, her feet taking her as far as they could possibly go. She reached the shelter of the trees, realizing she was in the grove where the Duke’s wife was buried. She recognized the path to her grave even as her feet had already began to walk it.
She went slowly, savoring the quiet under the trees and deliberately not thinking of anything. When she came to the grave, she looked down at the epitaph writ upon it and finally read it.
Victoria, Duchess of Thybaut.
Wife.
Mother.
The hole you have left shall never be filled.
She drew a shuddering breath as she read it, pursing her lips as she laid her still stinging palm on the headstone.
“Who were you? How did you get them to love you so well?”
She waited as the wind picked up but there was no answer. With a sigh, she strolled away, determined to cast away the cloud that had gathered over her mood.
“I have gooseberry puffs to make. I promised your son,” she threw over her shoulder as the grave disappeared from view. She walked to the orchard and collected the gooseberries, the vision of the Duke and the woman he’d been kissing assaulting her strongly.
“How dare he kiss some strange woman and then come after me and kiss me? Has he no manners? No etiquette? I thought these lords were supposed to be better mannered than the rest of us.” She snorted with disgust, plucking a gooseberry with unnecessary force. She felt the need to slap him again.
“What was he doing? Why did he do that?” she cried with frustration, her hands balling into fists. She looked around in embarrassment, glad there was nobody around to see her ranting.
She gritted her teeth. “I should just march to his office right now and ask him.”
The problem was she wasn’t sure whether she was ready to hear his answer.
Cradling the fruit in her apron, she made her way to the kitchens, resolved to focus only on making dessert.
After that, I shall find a tub and have a long soak. Tonight, I shall go to the downs and see if there is a message for me. This foolishness will end.
Nodding her head with resolution she lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders, walking with more determination.
* * *
Bertram finished his dinner and took his brandy in the drawing room where he entertained himself with a book. He remembered that his wife Victoria loved to regale him with stories at this time, filling him in on the day’s news and the happenings around the village. He would smile indulgently, pretending not to pay attention, his eyes on the evening paper. But she always knew he was listening to every word.
The room echoed with the emptiness of her absence and he sighed, reaching out to ring the bell. A dark-haired, young footman knocked on the door before opening it a short time later. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“Would you please fetch Miss Strange for me?”
He bowed. “Of course, Your Grace.”
He walked off smartly, as Bertram sank deeper into his seat and took another sip of his brandy. He smiled briefly, hand going to his cheek.
I’ll apologize first for earlier and then see what she thinks of my idea.
Thirty minutes later, neither the footman nor Miss Strange had appeared. His brow furrowed in annoyance as he got to his feet. As he was walking to the door, it opened, the footman looking flustered. “We cannot find her, Your Grace. She is nowhere to be seen.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we have checked the entire manor and she isn’t here.”
“How can that be? She made the gooseberry puffs we had for dessert. Which means she was here.”
“Yes, she was. But now…she isn’t.” The footman was quite pale and sweaty, his eyes blinking with fear.
