Page 120 of His Grace, the Duke
“This one,” she said, pointing to it.
The duchess pursed her lips. Had Rosalie passed the test? She couldn’t tell. “And why this particular one?”
Rosalie glanced at it again. “It reminds me the most of Alcott, I suppose. There is something pastoral about it. This was not made for a queen or a duchess floating the halls of St. James’s Palace. This was made for a lady who lives her life quietly in the country. This is a tiara she could wear in front of her tenants at Christmastime and not be seen as putting on airs. At least... that is how it makes me feel,” she said with a shrug.
James and the duchess both watched her closely. “What do you know of this one?” said the duchess.
“Nothing at all,” she replied. “I could be mistaken entirely. Perhaps this was only ever worn at St. James’s.”
The duchess stepped forward, eyeing the tiara with a confusing mix of reverence and disdain. “This tiara was bought by the third duke and presented to his wife upon the birth of their son and heir.”
“How do you know?” asked James, stepping towards them.
“Because there is a letter in the lining of the box,” she replied. “I found it when I was newly married. I’m sure it is still there, hiding behind the velvet. It’s an obnoxious thing, full of the worst kinds of flowery sentiment. It’s all dreams and promises and sighs of happiness.” She sniffed, glancing down at the offending piece of jewelry.
Rosalie’s heart was in her throat. “What did you do... after you read the letter?”
“I returned it to the box and never looked at it again until this morning. I’ve never worn it,” she added quietly.
Rosalie shared a glance with James. “Why not?” she whispered.
“Because I knew I did not deserve to wear such a symbol of goodness and kindness,” the duchess replied. “The third duke’s first wife represented everything I am not. She was loving where I am cold. She was graceful where I am calculating.”
“His first wife?” Rosalie repeated.
“Oh yes, she died in childbirth with their fourth or fifth child. A girl, I think. I can’t remember, and it doesn’t matter,” the duchess said with a wave of her hand. “She died, and he remarried, as all men do. Sentiment goes out the window when there are children to raise and a home to keep and a bed that needs warming.”
Rosalie’s heart broke for the duke, thinking of him all alone, their children without a mother, his dukedom without a duchess.
“Mother... where did you get the money?” James murmured.
The duchess and Rosalie both stilled. Rosalie closed her eyes, heart pounding. The duchess turned slowly to look at her, scorn in her eyes. “You told him?”
“No,” she whispered.
“George told me,” he added. “You paid off all her family’s debts. Seventeen thousand pounds. Don’t tell me why... at this point, I think I’m afraid to know your reason. But please, tell mehow.”
She sniffed. “Almost from the moment your father and I married, I set up a secret account and began moving money into it.”
“Why?”
“Because all ladies ought to have a plan of exit,” she replied, her eyes on Rosalie. “I lived quite frugally, taking most of my allowance and finding ways to secret it back into my own pockets. I would write bills of sale for jewelry and baubles, never delivered. Ornamental trees, never planted. I got bolder. I once commissioned a Grecian temple that was never built. Your father always thought I was spending the money. He never checked. He never cared. Over time, I stopped bothering with takinghismoney and I simply multiplied my own.”
“How?” said James.
“I invested some in properties. I speculated a few times, but I don’t enjoy the risk.” She turned to her son. “I have not taken a farthing of the estate’s money since he died. Yes, Imade a show of being a spendthrift, and you rightly cut me off from the house accounts, but that was more a test ofyou. A test of your mettle. Would you protect the estate, even from me? It gratifies me greatly to know that you would.”
James narrowed his eyes. “How much, Mother? How much of a fortune have you amassed in the shadows?”
She pursed her lips, her eyes revealing how much she was enjoying this moment. “I’d have to have my agent give me a full accounting, seeing as there are properties involved... but it’s somewhere around two hundred thousand.”
Rosalie gasped, raising a hand to her mouth.
“Bloody fucking hell.” Wholly undone, James sank down onto the closest sofa. He pressed his hands to his temples. After a minute, he raised his head. “Two hundred? You have, in your name, a fortune worth two hundred thousand pounds?”
The duchess gave him a self-satisfied smirk. “Well... give or take seventeen thousand. Will you stop worrying now about my generosity to Miss Harrow? Can we all move on, James?”
“Move on?” he cried, launching to his feet. “Do you have any idea what even aportionof that money could do for the upkeep of this estate? Do you know how hard I’ve worked to keep it all together? The tireless hours I’ve spent considering selling off pieces of our land. The work I’ve done to innovate, to expand, to safeguard what we have, to fill our coffers!”
