Page 23 of Married to the Icy Duke
“Good day to you both, Your Grace, your ladyship,” she said, making a neat—but not too deep—curtsey. “I am Mrs. Ribb, the housekeeper.”
Charlotte had not intended to be rude, but she found herself speaking without thinking.
“The housekeeper? Where is the duke?” she blurted out.
Mrs. Ribb blinked, but was too well-trained to show any surprise.
“The duke is otherwise engaged,” she said smoothly. “Shall I give you a tour? Or perhaps you would like to retire to your rooms? A large suite has been prepared for you, including a private sitting room and a bedroom for each of you. We have also made space for your lady’s maid, your ladyship.”
Charlotte glanced over at Thalia, who lifted her eyebrows but pointedly said nothing. The decision, it seemed, was all Charlotte’s.
“Very well,” Charlotte said at last. “Lead on, please.”
Mrs. Ribb gave a neat little smile and turned back into the house. Flanked by a pair of footmen, Charlotte and Thalia followed her.
Their rooms were indeed resplendent. Charlotte had expected large rooms, on account of the size of the house, but she imagined they would be musty and dark, perhaps covered in black and red fabric, with windows painted shut and curtains closed to keep out the sun.
Instead, she was shown to an airy, colorful room, easily able to contain five or six people for a refined, elegant tea-time. One door opened onto a sizable dressing-room, and another led to a massive bedroom, dominated by a four-poster bed draped in green and blue silk.
Orion colors,Charlotte thought in surprise.
“Yours is next door, Your Grace,” the housekeeper said, gesturing for Thalia to follow her. “You have your own dressing room, and your things have been unpacked and put away, naturally.”
The two women disappeared, leaving Charlotte alone in the rooms that would be her new home for the time being. Perhaps forever.
The engagement notice, she had been told, was set to appear in theGazettetoday. Already, whispers of an engagement were creeping amongst Society, but of course, nobody wanted to believe it just yet. TheGazette, however, would provide indisputable evidence.
When I see it in theGazette, I’ll believe it myself, too.
Hands on her hips, Charlotte stood before a wide, high window, bathed in glorious sunshine. A window had been opened, letting in a sweet rush of fresh air which stirred her hair.
She never heard the housekeeper approach. A gentle clearing of the throat was her first indication that she was not alone.
At the sound of Mrs. Ribb’s tactful cough, Charlotte spun around.
“Her Grace is settling into her rooms and plans to refresh herself after your journey,” Mrs. Ribb explained. “Perhaps you would like to freshen up, my lady? Or perhaps some refreshments? I trust that your rooms are to your liking.”
“They’re beautiful,” Charlotte managed. “But where is the duke? Why has he not met me?”
The housekeeper hesitated only for a moment. “The duke is a busy man, your ladyship.”
Charlotte bristled at that. “Too busy to meet his bride-to-be?”
Mrs. Ribb eyed her for a moment, with a smidge more confidence and authority than most other housekeepers Charlotte had met before.
“The duke is a fine man,” she said at last. “One I am happy to work for. He keeps strange hours, and his business is always his own. I am sorry that he cannot greet you in person, but I shall do my best to make sure you are comfortable.”
Charlotte turned to face her entirely, folding her arms. “Well, when shall I see him?”
“At seven o’clock, your ladyship, when dinner is served.”
Charlotte blanched. “Seven o’clock? Who eats dinner at seven o’clock?”
“As I said,” Mrs. Ribb said firmly, “the duke keeps strange hours. I shall be glad to fetch you something to eat if you are hungry in the meantime. Perhaps a negus?”
“Ugh, no. I cannot stand white soup of any kind. That is still entirely too late for dinner!”
Mrs. Ribb eyed her for a long moment, then gave a faint, mild smile.
