Page 39 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
Madeleine, taken aback by the open kindness in the woman’s face, only nodded.
“Mrs. Turner, ensure that the Duchess’s rooms are prepared to the utmost perfection. Did you see to it that her lady’s maid will be awaiting her in her chambers?”
“I did, Your Grace.”
“Good. Have Cecil deposit our bags in my chambers for now. Both of ours,” he ordered the butler. “Also, have the curtains opened in the parlor and drawing room. Ensure that the dinner table is set ahead of our dining tonight.” Alexander cast a look back at Madeleine. “The Duchess and I shall dine together.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Mr. Fletcher nodded, bowing. “It shall all be done.”
“Also see that the Duchess has a bath drawn for her. It has been a long day.”
“I will take care of such a thing with her lady’s maid,” Mrs. Turner said.
“Good. Ensure my wife is comfortable. I shall see no less in my home. Now, if you will excuse me, I must see to my own affairs.”
“It is good to have you return, Your Grace,” Mrs. Turner said a moment before Alexander nodded sharply and left, disappearing into the entrance of the manor.
“Shall we, Your Grace?” Mrs. Turner asked Madeleine, who was still reeling from being addressed as a duchess.
In truth, it was not so different to being Lady Kinsfeld, but the staff seemed to respect her so far, unlike her former housekeeper.
So, she gave a hesitant smile to the housekeeper and followed the woman inside.
“Your chambers adjoin His Grace’s, of course,” Mrs. Turner said. “Your lady’s maid, Emily, is waiting for you there. She will assist you with anything you require. His Grace has requested the dinner tonight but from here onwards you shall let me know what you wish for dinner each night.”
Madeleine nodded. That was not unknown to her.
Inside Silverton Hall, the floors gleamed, polished to a shine. The walls were high, bearing portraits of the countryside, and former masters of the house. Madeleine looked at them curiously as she walked alongside the housekeeper.
Up a staircase and to the right, then down a hallway, she came to her chambers. Mrs. Turner stopped at her door.
“I will be available whenever you should need me.” Mrs. Turner bowed her head to Madeleine before retreating.
Madeleine pushed open the door to her new chambers, finding an opulent room awaiting her. Her mouth parted.
She was accustomed to a large, lavish bedroom—though over the months of her marriage to Donald, she had watched it grow more and more sparse.
This was anything but sparse.
A vanity with a chair pulled out was against the far wall, adjacent to a large window that overlooked the beautiful gardens at the back. She spotted the roof of the carriage house, the stables, and the woodland behind Silverton Hall.
A large bed was against the right side of the room. Her eyes tracked over the pale sheets, and she imagined herself splayed back against them. Her blonde hair spilling around her on the pillow—and the Duke of Silverton over her, his mouth parted in that way she had seen earlier.
His hands traveling?—
A creak on the floorboards had her whirling around, finding herself face-to-face with a smaller girl, her dark hair perfectly pinned away from her face.
“Your Grace.” The girl dropped into a curtesy. “I am Emily, your lady’s maid. I have been told to have a bath drawn for you.”
“Yes,” Madeleine confirmed. “It is lovely to meet you.”
“Likewise, Your Grace. Come, let me prepare you.”
Emily’s hands were fast and efficient as she helped Madeleine out of her wedding dress, and Madeleine strode to the bathtub in the room set off from her main chamber.
She sank into the hot water, sighing as the ache from the carriage ride eased with each moment.
Emily began to scrub Madeleine clean. Inch by inch of skin, she felt renewed, refreshed from the journey.
