Page 21 of Duke of Silver
By the time they arrived at Hertfordshire in the late afternoon, Elizabeth was emotionally drained, though her fatigue did not stop the sharp intake of breath at the sight of her new home. The baroque castle was grand beyond anything she had ever seen, its elegant spires and intricately carved stone walls gleaming in the fading sunlight. She fought the urge to gape as Sterlin reappeared and offered her his arm, guiding her through the imposing entrance.
Inside, the grand vestibule was just as impressive, its marble floors gleaming beneath the glow of crystal chandeliers. The servants were lined up in neat rows, standing at attention, waiting for their new mistress. Elizabeth’s nerves tightened as her husband introduced the elderly couple before her.
“Mr. and Mrs. Ryton have overseen the affairs of the castle for decades,” Sterlin said, gesturing toward the butler and housekeeper, both of whom looked to be well into their later years. Mr. Ryton, with his neatly combed white hair and stiff posture, offered a respectful bow, while Mrs. Ryton, a stout woman with kind eyes, gave a small curtsy.
“Mrs. Ryton will help you settle in. You will be in the most capable hands,” Sterlin added, his tone polite but distant, as he promptly handed her over to the housekeeper and disappeared down a narrow hallway through an arched door.
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed.I did not marry Mrs. Ryton,she thought, biting back the words she longed to hurl at his retreating figure. But propriety won out, and she turned herattention to Mrs. Ryton, who was patiently waiting for her next instruction.
“I must say,” the housekeeper began as she led Elizabeth up the grand staircase, “we received quite the surprise when the Duke wrote of his arrival with his new Duchess. Shocking news, but the most pleasant this castle has had in years.” There was something in the woman’s tone that gave Elizabeth pause—something heavy, as though there was more beneath the surface than the words alone revealed.
“Your chambers, Your Grace,” Mrs. Ryton announced as they reached a door, pushing it open to reveal a beautiful room adorned in soft peach and ivory. The warm hues gave the space a light, almost ethereal quality.
Elizabeth stepped inside, her eyes sweeping over the tasteful furnishings—the canopied bed, the elegant chaise longue by the window, and the delicate embroidery of the draperies. It was lovely, certainly, though it did little to quell the unease that had taken root inside her.
The footmen arrived shortly after, bringing up her boxes, and Mrs. Ryton turned to her with a practiced smile. “I will leave you with your lady’s maid to help you settle in.”
“Oh, but I do not have one,” Elizabeth admitted, her cheeks coloring slightly at the admission.
Mrs. Ryton’s brow furrowed briefly in confusion, but she recovered quickly. Without asking further, she gestured to ayoung girl who had just entered the room, her arms full of fresh orchids for the side table.
“Esther is one of our chamber maids, but she is capable enough to assist you until we find a more permanent arrangement for the position,” the housekeeper explained.
Elizabeth nodded, grateful for the solution. “I look forward to working with you, Esther,” she said softly as the girl curtsied, her eyes wide.
Mrs. Ryton’s tone turned brisk once more. “Tomorrow, we shall take a full tour of the castle and acquaint you with the household’s daily runnings, Your Grace. But for now, dinner will be served in a few hours.”
With that, the housekeeper excused herself, leaving Elizabeth alone in her new chambers.
As the door closed softly behind her, Elizabeth exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She wandered toward the window, her gaze drifting over the manicured grounds below. Everything about this place—the grandeur, the formality, the very air itself—felt foreign. She belonged here now, but it didn’t feel like home.
Would it ever?
Elizabeth wore one of her new dresses for dinner that night, a simple but elegant ensemble of olive green satin. It hugged herfigure gracefully, but as she arrived at the drawing room, her anticipation quickly dimmed when the butler informed her that the Duke was in a meeting with his steward. He had left word for her to dine without waiting for him.
She swallowed the lump of disappointment that rose in her throat and followed the butler to the dining room. As she sat down to her solitary meal, the vastness of the room seemed to magnify her loneliness. The footmen moved with quiet efficiency, but their exchanged glances were hard to ignore. Elizabeth’s fork moved slowly across her plate, but the food—no matter how finely prepared—felt tasteless. This was not how she had imagined her first dinner as a married woman.
She had expected it to be awkward, perhaps even stilted, but to dine alone, in the unfamiliar grandeur of her new home, was worse than anything she had prepared herself for. She had longed for his presence, no matter how stiff or uncomfortable the conversation might have been. At least she would not feel so utterly alone.
After finishing the uncomfortable meal, Elizabeth retired to her chambers, where Esther, the temporary lady’s maid, fussed over her with just as much care as she had before dinner. The night wore on, and still, there was no sign of the Duke.
The emptiness of her bed felt like a physical weight pressing down on her chest. Was this to be her new life? She wondered miserably. She couldn’t help but recall the lively, chaotic dinners she had shared with her family—the laughter, the warmth, thechatter. Fresh emotion gathered in her throat, threatening to spill over.
Elizabeth pulled the covers to her chest, willing herself to close her eyes and fall asleep. But no matter how hard she tried, her gaze kept drifting to the adjoining door that led to the Duke’s chambers. It remained firmly shut, the silence on the other side deafening.
Eventually, she could bear it no longer. Perhaps it was her duty to go to him. Perhaps he was waiting for her.
With a deep breath, she slipped out of bed and padded across the room. The cold handle of the door felt like a final tether to her fraying nerves. When she turned the knob and peered inside, she was met with darkness. The room was empty.
Where could he be?she wondered, frustration and unease bubbling within her. She slipped into the hallway, the quiet unsettling her further. She had no idea where his study was, but she remembered the door he had disappeared through earlier. She decided to start her search there.
Relief washed over her when she saw light filtering from beneath a nearby door. Summoning her courage, Elizabeth gave a brief knock before stepping inside.
Sterlin sat at his desk, papers scattered before him. He looked up, surprise flashing briefly across his features before it was replaced by something else—something inscrutable. His gaze lingered on her longer than she expected, traveling the lengthof her figure in her night rail, making her feel suddenly self-conscious.
“I thought you’d be asleep,” he said at last, his tone as unreadable as his expression.
“You weren’t at dinner,” Elizabeth replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
