Page 32 of The Duke of Ruin
Olive saw genuine pity for her mistress in Polly's eyes, despite the woman having nearly killed her. The rest of the story Liv half knew already; the Duke had found Birmingham in a tavern in Bristol, and challenged him to a duel. Thetonhad all thought it was because Everleigh was jealous of the man, but it had all been revenge for what he had done to his wife.
"News reached Pemberton Hall, that the Duke had shot Birmingham dead," Polly continued, "And I cannot say that I was sorry. I tried to keep it from her Grace, but somehow she found out. It must have been from a stable boy, or one of the lower maids, for they were nervous of her position and didn't understand that she was to be lied to if necessary."
"And how did her Grace take the news?" Olive asked, already knowing the answer to her question.
"Not well, not well at all."
Polly stood up, and began pacing the length of the drawing room. She was visibly agitated and as she glanced at Liv, her eyes were misty with tears.
"I must ask you to promise that you will take this next piece of information to your grave," Polly said solemnly, and wide-eyed Olive nodded her agreement.
"Her Grace did not take the news well, as you can imagine. She wept and raged the whole day long, finally she fell asleep, but I was so worried for her that I slept in her bedchamber on a chair. I must have dozed off, for the next thing I knew I was woken by the sound of the door slamming shut. I raced after her, but I was too late. I rushed out into the hallway, and she was climbing over the banisters on the landing, but I was too far away to pull her back. I saw her jump, Olive, it was an awful sight to witness."
Olive paled; she could well imagine the horror that had filled poor Polly as she watched her mistress jump to her death.
"She landed on the marble tiles of the entrance hall," Polly winced, as though remembering the sound. "I knew that she was dead the moment that I reached her. Mrs Hogg, who had been closing up the house for the night, witnessed the whole thing too. We were in an awful state, we didn't know what to do and then the Duke arrived home, just moments after she had leapt."
"But he said he was there?" Olive interrupted, her brow furrowed with thought. "I read it in the papers, he said that he saw his wife trip and fall down the stairs."
"No one would question the word of a Duke," Polly shrugged, "That was what he told us. He wanted to give Catherine a proper burial in a graveyard; he wanted to protect her from cruel gossip even in death."
Olive was silent as she absorbed this. Ruan had not been present when his wife had died, and yet had claimed to be so in order to preserve her honour; the Church would not bury a suicide on Holy ground. He must have known that after the incident with Birmingham that people might suspect him of having a hand in Catherine's death, and yet he had gone ahead with his plan. The Duke of Ruin had ruined his own reputation, to preserve Catherine Ashford's. The irony was not lost on Olive, who gave Polly a wan smile.
"I can see that I was wrong about his Grace," she said, and the other woman's shoulders visibly sagged with relief. "I shall not tell a soul what you have told me Polly, I swear it."
"Not even the Duke?"
"Would he not want me to know?"
Polly snorted with amusement; "His Grace is a good man, but even I'd be the first to admit that he's pig-headed and stubborn about letting people know he's got a soft side."
"Even his wife?" Olive wondered aloud.
"Is that what you are?"
Olive let the loaded question linger in the air unanswered. After what she had heard, she knew that the Duke of Everleigh was not a bad man --but did that mean that she wanted to be his Duchess?
Ruan frowned as he waited for someone to answer the door he had just knocked on. He felt like a fool standing on the front step of the boarding house, with a bouquet of posies hidden behind his back. He was gripping them so hard that he was certain the stems would have turned to mush by the time he handed them over to Olive.
The door creaked open and Polly's familiar face peered out, wreathing into a smile as she saw that it was he.
"Good morning, your Grace," she sang brightly, ushering him inside. "'Tis another beautiful sunny day, is it not?"
"It is," Ruan tried not to sound too impatient; he was not there to discuss the weather. He followed Polly into the drawing room that he had stormed into blind with rage the night before. Today, in the late morning sunshine, he saw that the room was elegantly appointed with fine furnishings and dozens of framed paintings lining the walls. Polly gestured for him to sit and turned to leave to fetch Olive, but stopped when the Duke addressed her.
"I take it the Duchess holds no ill will against you for your deception?"
"Only a small bit, your Grace," Polly bit her lip nervously, "And I hope that you hold no ill will against me for the way that I asked you to leave?"
"You're not the first person to point a loaded pistol at me," Ruan replied with a short laugh, "And I dare say you won't be the last --but Polly?"
Polly glanced at him nervously.
"Don't do it again."
Ruan hid a smile as the young woman bobbed her head and positively fled the room. He truly was not annoyed with Polly, he had known that she would not actually shoot him, and she had merely been doing the job he had instructed her to do -- protect his wife. Ruan stood and began to pace the drawing room as he waited for Olive to arrive. He felt like a complete and utter dolt; his heart was racing, his palms were sweaty and he was as jumpy as young blood about to attend his first ball. Honestly, he shook his head in annoyance, it was ridiculous to feel this nervous -- he was a Duke for goodness sake!
The self-affirmation fled his head however, when Olive slipped into the room and gave a discreet cough to let him know she was there. Ruan whirled around, and instantly his mouth went dry. She was dressed in a simple day dress, with her red curls piled atop her head, and the vision she created was mesmerising. His eyes strayed to her plump lips, which were slightly open as though she wanted to speak but could not find the words.
