Page 26 of His Duchess of Scandal
It was the wrong thing to say.
At her mother’s awful glare, she corrected herself. “Raised alongside them is what I mean. We are close—the closest sisters in the ton, I am certain. I know you will not let me write to them. I cannot bid goodbye to my life with them in the space of a few hours. You hate me, but you cannot be that heartless.”
“We are doing what we must when faced with a disgrace for a daughter.” Her mother’s cold words hit her like a physical blow that almost sent her to her knees. “Start packing, Hermia. I will not repeat myself.”
Hermia sagged against the mantelpiece as soon as they left the library, and she pressed her forehead to her knuckles, the hard ridge of her fingers helping to ground her for a minute.
A moment passed, and she felt a tug on her gown.
Heavens, she’d forgotten about the child!
She whirled around to face the Duke’s tear-eyed daughter.
“Miss Hermia,” Phoebe mumbled.
Hermia did not correct her.
“Are your mama and papa cross with you like my papa is with me?”
She hesitated before nodding. “They are. However, while you ran away, I am being… forced to.”
“Is it because of what I did?” Phoebe’s voice wobbled, but she stiffened her lip against any tears.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“I did not mean it!” Phoebe cried, almost so loud that Hermia worried her parents would return. Hurriedly, she closed the library door.
“I-I just wanted to play a trick,” the girl continued, looking down. “But—but this time, he shouted and said I hurt someone. That was you, wasn’t it?”
“Phoebe,” Hermia whispered, piecing together what had happened. “Come here.” She led the little girl to the sofa. “Tell me what happened. Slowly and calmly now.”
“Papa punished me,” Phoebe hiccupped. “I heard him tell the servants not to touch his paintings. He is ever so protective of them, but I like them. I like looking at them. They are pretty and colorful. But I was angry that he punished me, so I found one of his new footmen who looked a little bit lost, and I knew I could be a little bit wicked in return. I told him to pick up the biggest covered painting—I knew it was important. I told him that Papa wanted it to be moved to the ballroom. I did not know what would happen! I did not know why there were so many people—there are always so manypeople.”
Hermia gently stroked the girl’s hair in a bid to soothe her, wondering if she was doing too much, but she comforted her as she had comforted Sibyl the day before.
“Oh, please don’t cry, my dear,” she murmured.
But her mind was whirring too fast to pin down the conclusion.
Stunned, she forced her hand to move in motions that seemed to calm the whimpering girl.
“I do not know why it got so out of hand,” Phoebe mumbled. “I just wanted to tease Papa.”
“It is all right,” Hermia whispered. “It is only that… well, sometimes adults, like your papa, create… drawings that are not to be looked at by others. And this society we live in has many,manyrules, and that painting goes against all those rules.”
Phoebe sniffled and nodded her understanding, wrapping her arms tightly around Hermia. “I will tell your mama and papa the truth! I will tell them you are good and do not need to pack your things, and that I did not mean to hurt anybody! They will see.”
Hermia swallowed back her doubt, for that was not for Phoebe to know about. Instead, she forced cheer into her voice and straightened.
“Look, here, tell me your name. I believe I overheard it from a maid, but introduce yourself to me. If you are here, and there is amess we cannot yet solve, we might as well become familiar with one another.”
The girl looked up at her with those big, blue eyes, and Hermia softened.
Heavens, she had ranted and raged at the Duke, thinking he was a liar. All this time, it had been a trick that was supposed to be harmless, delivered by… his daughter.
Widowed.
She recalled how quickly he had answered. But how long had he been widowed? Had he been unfaithful to his wife, leaving her and Phoebe at home while he indulged in secrecy for the night, his anonymity hiding his actions?
