Page 57 of Secrets of the Marriage Bed
‘Have you always lived here at Sackfield, Miss Digby?’ Julia asked, hoping to put the conversation back on a more comfortable footing.
‘Dear me, no,’ Miss Digby said. ‘I left when it was time for a proper tutor.’
The hardness returned to Alistair’s jaw. ‘I was seven. My stepmother feared Miss Digby was too lenient.’
‘Well, I was a little,’ the elderly lady said regretfully. ‘I never could bring myself to cane small children.’ She smiled sadly. ‘More is achieved with honey than with vinegar in my experience. But you were quite the handful, even for me.’
‘If I had known Isobel was going to send you away, I would have been a model of good behaviour.’ His voice was bitter. He looked up and caught Julia watching him. His expression cooled. The illusion of being let in dissipated as if it had never been.
A pang pierced her heart. ‘But here you are now?’
‘Yes, here I am in my own little cottage just as I always wanted, thanks to Alistair. He came and found me once he reached his majority. When he was little we joked about living in a little cottage in the country and doing nothing but reading books. He loves books as much as I do.’
‘You do?’ This was something else she had not known.
‘I do not have time for reading,’ he said. ‘Being a duke requires all my attention.’
The old lady’s eyes twinkled. ‘As well as your new duties as a husband.’
Julia blushed.
Miss Digby looked at Julia. ‘You must convince him to take some time for himself,’
As if she had any influence on the man. Although he had spent more time with her here than in Richmond. ‘I will try.’ What else could she say? The woman was small, but she had a powerful will.
The older woman’s lips pursed, creating a concertina of wrinkles around her mouth. ‘I hear you hired on a number of new servants, Crawfy. Brought some of them with you, too.’
‘A married duke needs more than a skeleton household,’ he mumbled. ‘Both here and in London. Especially here, since Her Grace will no doubt be receiving callers.’
The old lady nodded. ‘Sensible. What about this dresser of yours, Your Grace? Mrs Robins. I have heard a few grumbles. Not a woman who is inspiring of warm feelings amongst her peers.’
Julia blinked at the directness of the question. ‘Robins has been with me for three weeks. I agree, she is rather strait-laced, but came highly recommended.’
Alistair narrowed his eyes. ‘Recommended by whom?’
‘I am not sure. Mr Lewis didn’t say.’
‘Hmmph,’ Miss Digby muttered.
A look of significance passed between her and Alistair.
‘What is it?’ Julia said.
‘The Dowager Duchess,’ Alistair and Miss Digby said in unison.
‘She sometimes tries to plant spies among my staff,’ Alistair said. ‘She likes to poke her nose into my business.’
Julia’s jaw dropped. ‘Oh, my goodness. Really?’
Alistair shrugged. ‘She keeps an eye on me for some reason, the idiot female.’
Perhaps she worried about her stepson. She had implied that she did. Still... ‘But why would you think she would spy on me?’
His expression hardened ‘To cause me trouble. If she could find some unpleasant gossip...’
Her stomach dropped as she thought of the gossip that could never be revealed, of the night they had met.
She swallowed. If she said nothing about the Dowager’s visit now, he might think she was colluding with the woman. She gathered her courage. ‘I d-did not tell you, but your stepmother visited me yesterday.’
