Page 12 of The Wise Daughter
Chuff cleared his throat. “These are the visitors, Your Grace. Mr. Charles Lacy and his daughter, Miss Honora Lacy.”
Rain snapped at the windows, only somewhat muffled by the thick, velvety curtains that draped all the way to the floor.
The duke approached slowly, letting light from the fire and candles gradually reveal his features. He was handsome, very handsome. And familiar. His lip was swollen. His hair, which she could now plainly see was a deep auburn, was combed back in smooth waves, as if he wanted to tame their tendency to curl. A fresh scratch near his hairline and a lump above his temple had been cleaned since she last saw him.
Nora froze, every muscle turned to rigid ice except her heart, which threw itself into a frenzy.
He met her eye, his neutral expression revealing nothing, no hint of recognition, no plea for her silence, nothing.
“Welcome to Holmrook Castle.”
He lowered into a deep bow. His voice, warm and rich, must have recovered from the raspiness he spoke with near the river.
Her father gave an awkward bow in return. Coming out of her daze, Nora curtsied, then wrapped her arm through her father’s. He looked at her gratefully, not minding her wetness this time, then turnedback to face the duke, but before he could say anything, another man burst through the doors.
“I’m here! I’m here, Your Grace! I came as soon as I heard. Really, Chuff, this quite goes against standards.” His eyes widened in disgust as he looked over Nora and her father. “I’ll handle everything, Your Grace.”
Chuff arched a brow and sniffed, his only reply before withdrawing.
Despite being covered in layers of soaking skirts, Nora felt naked under this newcomer’s gaze.
The duke released a low, grumbly sigh. “Mr. and Miss Lacy, this is my steward, Mr. Carver, who has mistaken my solitude for a matter of choice. However, I agree that this is an odd hour for strangers to visit.”
Nora willed her eyes to adjust to the firelight as she studied the duke, trying to reconcile her earlier encounter with him with this unexpected reality, but so far, he gave away nothing to help her understand. Little wonder there were so many rumors if this behavior was customary for him.
Perhaps he enjoys being mysterious.
Mr. Lacy bowed again. “Thank you for receiving us, Your Grace. I’ll explain as efficiently as I can. My daughter and I come to you in the midst of great hardship.” He swallowed and patted his glistening forehead. “We’ve lost everything but what we carry.”
Mr. Carver folded his arms. “And you expect the duke’s charity?”
Nora’s father opened his mouth but said nothing, his eyes jumping from the duke to his steward.
She held her breath, hoping that the injured man she had met by the river meant what he had said about the duke helping those in need, especially since she now understood that he was talking about himself.
“Carver,” the duke said, “thank you for coming so quickly, but I do not require any assistance right now.”
“But Your Grace–”
“I can easily send for you again. Right now, I wish to hear what the Lacy’s have to say in private. You may leave us now.”
Mr. Carver’s chest visibly rose with each breath he took through flared nostrils. “Are you certain that is what you wish, Your Grace?”
“I am. And please tell Chuff to have rooms and baths prepared for our guests as well as meals to be sent up.” The duke gestured toward the door.
The very mention of a bath and a meal almost made Nora want to follow the grumpy steward and find those comforts herself, but her future still hung before her like bait on a fishing line.
“Very well.” Mr. Carver tugged on the lapels of his coat and lifted his chin before reaching the door and stepping out in a brisk stride.
“I apologize for my steward,” the duke said. “Ever since the death of my father, he has been excessively worried for my well-being.”
Nora still hadn’t found her voice yet and could only stare, but she gave her father a nudge. They had come too far to retreat now.
Her father cleared his throat. “Of course, Your Grace. Even from our little town of West Riding, your father was reputed to be a shrewd but kind man.”
It might have only been a trick of the light that flickered from the fire, but Nora could have sworn, the duke’s eyes welled up with these words.
“I’m so sorry about your father,” she said, grateful to find something sincere to say.
