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“That’s all, thank you,” he said.
She curtsied and left him to his thoughts, and not surprisingly, he found them tuned to Miss Stone, and he wondered how she had gained his attention when he had sworn nothing would.
***
The brisk summer breeze fluttered Louisa’s coattails as she walked to the Winston Estate; it was where her dear and only friend Amelia Johnson worked as maid to theEarl of Breckenridge. They had grown up in the same orphanage and had fought hard to get out of the dismal future that most orphans fell into—poverty and crime.
Louisa had two reasons for her visit, aside from wanting to see her old friendshe wanted to know if Amelia knew more about Duke Westwood. Cook Morna’s dismal words about how the Duke had suffered more than the loss of his parents had carried with her from the night she had heard them. Deeming it too soon to be asking those of the household what cook meant, Louisa felt if best to ask Amelia.
The spring flowers at the side of the road broke up the continuous green of the rolling slopes and hillocks ahead of her. The two estates were less than a mile apart but having walked more than that before, Louisa had nary a problem strolling through the journey.
When she arrived, she took care to follow a backroad that was like the servant-only entrance in Duke Westwood’s home. She arrived at the backyard of the modest three-story house and as per Amelia’s instructions, knocked on the back door.
Moments later, the door opened and a smiling Ameliaflung her arms around Louisa. “You’re here! You’re finally here!”
Embracing her friend as tightly as she was being held, Louisa laughed, “Of course I am here. Where did you think I would be?”
“Laying down on a hillock somewhere between your estate and mine, day-dreaming,” Amelia shrugged. “I know how you tend to getdistracted when you have free time.”
Louisa blushed.“If you meant that instance—I keep telling you that I never meant for that curtain to catch afire.”
Snickering, Amelia closed the door behind her and led Louisa down a path to a set of wooden benches sitting under a thick thicketof trees. Seated there, Louisa was able to untie her bonnet’s ribbonand place it on her lap. She gazed upon Amelia with pleasure and relief that she was with a familiar face.
Her friend looked so happy, her light brown eyes glimmering and stubborn curls of her dark hair, freed from her bun, were curling over her temples.
“So, tell me,” Amelia gushed. “What is it like working at the Montagu home?”
Her lips opened, then closed.“Honestly, it is wonderful living there, but I have many questions, some of which I do not think I will ever get answers to.”
Amelia’s brows knitted with concern.“Like what?”
“Duke Westwood,” Louisa said, hearing the concern and confusion in her voice.“I am picking up a few things about his life here and there, but a few things still bother me.”
“And you came to me for answers,” Amelia pretended to pout. “And here I thought you wanted to see me.”
“I do,” Louisa laughed.“I do, I promise you, but I did not feel it right to ask the other servants there until they feel comfortable with me. I placed myself in their shoes and I know that if a veritable stranger came to me asking me about my sovereign, I would be suspicious.”
Tugging at her apron, Amelia nodded. “I see, I see. There are a few things I have heard, Louisa, and it saddens me.”
Though this was partly why Louisa had gone to her friend, the words Amelia just spoke made her second-guess herself. “I have heard about his parents, is that it?”
Shaking her head, Amelia said, “Not, it’s worse. A year or so ago, he was engaged, and I am told that he loved her, truly, undisputedly loved this lady, but she broke his heart, and he has never recovered from it. Some say that he was in the depths of despair and that he tried to kill himself.”
Unmeasurable sorrow causedan unwitting whimper to leave Louisa while her heart felt flooded with enough sorrow that her body felt ladened. That was why the Duke was so sad. There was no haughtiness or coldness about him—the man was nursing a broken heart!
“Oh, no,” she cried.
“Sadly yes,” Amelia sighed. “And for him to lose his parents as well, his mother birthed him rather late in life, you know.”
“I’ve heard that too,” Louisa sighed, while shaking her head.“And I thought we lived a hard life. I know we were unfortunate to not have parents in our lives, but to have a loving mother and father, only to lose them, sounds so much worse.”
The wind shifted the tree’s limbs overhead, casting a fleeting shadow over Amelia’s face.“It is, isn’t it?”
Decidedly, Louisa turned the subject away from the Duke and asked her friend how it was to be away from the dourness of London. Amelia’s expressive face turnedjoyful, while she told her how the Lady of the house, a young mother, was kind.
“She gave me a few books from the library to keep after I told Miss Beck’s secret on how to care for colicky babies.” Amelia smiled. “She frets about everything though, so I’m glad I’m here to help her with the babe.”
“You always were good with children back at the orphanage,” Louisa mentioned, while a part of her was still trying to digest the tragedy that had befallen Duke Westwood.
