Page 54 of The Wayward Duke
Percy’s arrival jolted Caroline from her dark musings. “A Mr Grey here to see you, Your Grace.”
“Send him in, Percy.” She cast her gaze over the picked-over sandwiches and pot of tepid tea. “And bring fresh tea, if you please. The good Darjeeling.” She forced brightness into her tone that felt brittle even to her own ears. “Oh, and sandwiches. A lot of them.”
Percy’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. “A lot, Your Grace?”
“Oh yes. A frankly ludicrous amount. Enough to feed a regiment.”
A familiar chuckle emanated from the doorway. “A regiment? My dear duchess, what sort of appetite do you think I have?”
Her closest friend, Richard Grey, sauntered into the room, looking too pleased with himself for the early hour. He moved with effortless grace, projecting the confidence of a man who knew his place in the world. Settling into the chair opposite her, he helped himself to a sandwich from the platter – one she’d been picking at earlier. Richard took an obnoxiously large bite and flashed her a shameless grin.
“Can you blame me for thinking you half starved?” Caroline said. “Every time I see you, my larders are mysteriously depleted. You descend like a scavenging fox set loose among helpless hens.”
Clutching his chest as if affronted, Richard adopted a wounded expression. “Here I am, barely hours after kissing my darling wife and babe goodbye, rushing to attend to you in your time of need – ready to provide comfort and solace. And this is the thanks I get?” He took another defiant bite of the sandwich. “Have a care, Caro. I could waste away to a husk on such meagre rations.”
“Oh yes, utterly selfless. Practically a saint.” She reached over and patted his hand with fond exasperation. “I’m quite certain Anne knows precisely where you dashed off to this morning. Let me guess… was it a spot of light blackmail? Beating someone to a pulp in a back alley?”
Richard grinned, sharp and wolfish. “I’ll have you know I’m an upstanding gentleman and devoted family man now.” The twitch of his lips turned wicked. “I’ve already begun compiling prime blackmail material to share with Lillian when she comes of age.”
“You’ll do no such thing. Anne will string you up by your cravat if you corrupt the child too early. Can’t you at least wait until she starts walking?”
“And deny my daughter her proper education? Anne’s probably whispering seditious ideas to her. Mark my words, Lillian will have the pair of us wrapped around her little finger before long.”
“And how is Anne adapting to motherhood?”
His smile softened around the edges. “It’s been… an adjustment. Anne prefers to take on the role of the nursemaid, and it turns out an infant doesn’t adhere to one’s schedule or respect closed doors. All babies appear as angry, squalling potatoes fresh from the womb, but she’s developed a distinct personality.” He gave her a wink. “But Anne and I are managing well enough.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure you are,” Caroline said dryly.
Percy arrived with the tea tray. While the butler set the service between them, Caroline studied Richard, catalogued the new contentment. This man who had helped hold her fragile pieces together after she’d shattered. She was happy for him, truly. But the sentiment came with an edge of wistfulness.
An old grief that never faded.
She waited until they were alone again to ask, “Tell me more about how you and Anne are getting on. I want to hear everything about dear Lillian.”
Richard helped himself to far more sugar than any grown man should reasonably consume. “Anne and I are deliriously happy but as exhausted as one might expect. Worth it, though.” He took a slow sip, his keen gaze never leaving her face. “It takes some time, learning to put another tiny human’s needs before one’s own convenience. Much less sleep to be had. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” His smile turned self-deprecating. “Never pictured myself as the doting papa, yet here I am reading poetry to an infant more interested in gnawing the pages. Do remind me how you take your tea, darling. One lump or two?”
“Just one, please.” She watched him plop a cube in her cup, followed by a careless splash of milk.
“I hear our wayward duke has finally deigned to grace your doorstep again after all this time.” Richard’s tone remained mild, but she detected the edge beneath the silk. Her friend had never cared for Julian, and clearly, that hadn’t changed. “Shall I pry for details, or must I resort to bribing your staff?”
The question she’d been dreading. Caroline tensed, dropping her gaze to the swirling eddies in her tea as she tried to corral her fraying thoughts. Their reconciliation was still so fresh, the old wounds barely beginning to knit. She hardly knew how to explain the jagged pieces of their history in a way that made any sense.
“His apartment in town was let, so he’s staying here for now,” she said. “And I’d like to ask him to remain indefinitely.”
“Would you now?” Richard took a slow sip of tea, but his nonchalance didn’t fool her. “I confess, it’s difficult to be overjoyed at his return after so many years of indifference towards you. I’m half tempted to string him up in the courtyard, but Anne forbade it. Told me not to meddle.”
Despite everything, Caroline let out a quiet laugh. “Anne is very wise. And I’m sure she’d be cross if you started brawling with a duke on a London street.”
Richard’s smile held an edge. “As if I’d be so gauche. There are subtler ways to make displeasure known.” He set down his teacup with a soft clink. “But don’t change the subject. You never told me what happened between you and Hastings.”
Caroline stared down into her cup. “It’s complicated.”
Richard’s voice remained patient. “I’ve put men in the ground for far less cause than having hurt you. Hastings will be no exception if that’s what you want. Complicated intrigues me.”
“It’s difficult to explain,” she began. “We were so young when we wed, and he’d originally planned to marry our friend Grace that year. But we both made a hasty decision in a moment of… well, you know how these things happen.”
All humour fled Richard’s expression. He reached over and covered her hand with his own, giving a gentle squeeze. “I believe I understand well enough.”
