Page 34 of His Duchess of Scandal
Perhaps I am dreaming.Maybe I will wake up in France with Aunt Patricia, and she will be her usual cruel self, and my sisters… My sisters will not be there.
But this was real, and it only grew more and more real when she walked inside the grand house and met the staff.
“This isn’t even one-third of them. I know, because they all try to stop my little pranks,” Phoebe whispered. But then she was quickly shushed by Miss Tarnen, her governess.
Hermia was still taking in the white walls and the polished floor, the portraits that lined the walls up ahead, and the grand chandelier that hung in the entrance hall, when the Duke led her to an older woman, her hair almost completely gray. Her eyes were kind, but her lips were pressed into a firm line.
A woman who was friendly, Hermia guessed, but did her job very well.
“Duchess, this is Mrs. Nightgale, Branmere Hall’s housekeeper. Mrs. Nightgale, this is the new Duchess of Branmere. I assume her rooms are ready?”
“As requested, Your Grace.” The housekeeper curtsied to the Duke before she did the same to Hermia. “Welcome to Branmere Hall, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Nightgale,” Hermia answered, giving her a nod.
The Duke turned to Phoebe, who was watching them with wide, shimmering eyes, hopeful and pretty. Hermia could see so much of the Duke in her. For a minute, she wondered what traits the girl had gotten from her mother.
“Phoebe, you understand what happened today, do you not?”
Crouched before his daughter, the Duke spoke to her in a tone that wasn’t as condescending as Hermia had expected.
Ashamed, she looked away.
“Lady Hermia is my wife, and the new Duchess now, and you ought to listen to her. Yes?”
“Yes, Papa,” Phoebe said.
“You do not have to call her your mother. ‘Duchess’ will suffice.”
Hermia’s stomach dropped. Not because she had wanted it, but because she had not expected the issue to be raised so soon.
“However, I do want you to show her the utmost respect,” the Duke went on. “That means no more harmful pranks. I want the Duchess to have a comfortable stay in Branmere Hall. Do you agree with me on this?”
“I agree, Papa. Does that mean I can still play non-harmful pranks?”
At that, Hermia stifled a laugh.
She heard the Duke sigh. “We will discuss that later.”
He stood up and nodded to Miss Tarnen to take his daughter away. Then, he nodded to the housekeeper. “See to it that Her Grace is settled in her new rooms and has everything she needs.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Hermia shouldn’t have been disappointed to see the Duke walk away, but she was, a little. She should have expected it, yet she still watched his retreating figure until it disappeared beyond a doorway at the end of the hall.
She could swear he paused for a moment before he entered, but he did not look back.
When she looked back at Mrs. Nightgale, she was startled to find the woman’s knowing eyes on her.
Has she seen the painting? Have all the servants seen it?
Nerves crept up her spine, but the older woman just gestured towards the staircase. “This way, Your Grace.”
Hermia followed her up the wide, curving staircase that led to the first-floor landing.
“Branmere Hall runs on a very tight schedule, Your Grace. We have twenty-five rooms, all of them at your disposal. Except for His Grace’s study, the gallery, and—and… well, there is one other room that will remain closed to you.”
“Is it a secret?”
