Page 29 of Her Duke By Accident
They exited the room, and walked through a series of halls before entering a wide kitchen, that was bigger than any Alicia had ever seen. Cooks and servants moved about, preparing for a large dinner.
“Every week,” Ms. Crawford began, “we must meet to discuss the menu you’d prefer to see. Once you become more familiar with the local produce and game, it will be the easiest task in all of Garvey.”
“Is it quite different than London?”
“We have access to acres of hunting grounds, Your Grace,” she replied. “Not only that, but the Baxton family has prided themselves in their produce production, giving us more of a variety in what the kitchen might prepare.”
Alicia’s interest perked up at the mention of produce. “Ms. Crawford,” she began, “is there any way we can visit the gardens before the day is over?”
The housekeeper smiled over her shoulder at her. “Of course,” she replied. “As the duchess, you might decide what to change or keep within the gardens, if you so wish.”
“Didn’t the late duchess make the gardens what they are today?”
Once again, Ms. Crawford faltered and looked around, as though they spoke of something that was improper to discuss. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“Then they will stay the same,” Alicia said.
Ms. Crawford nodded. “Very well.” She gestured toward a second exit from the kitchen, one that led directly outside behind Garvey Manor. “Follow me, Your Grace.”
Sticking close behind the housekeeper, Alicia followed her through the kitchen and into an early spring afternoon. A cool breeze met them at the door, and Alicia breathed it in deeply, the sun soaking into her skin. For the first time since arriving at Garvey Manor, she felt more like herself, more like Alicia and not a duchess.
Ms. Crawford entered the largest garden behind the manor, one that had a wooden gate at its entrance. Between bushes and blossoms, a man stood, his wide straw hat bending down on either side of his face.
“G’day, Ms. Crawford,” he croaked with a tip of his hat. His greying eyes looked over Alicia. “You must be the new duchess.”
She bowed her head. “Yes, sir. Are you the groundskeeper?” she asked. “Renfield?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” he replied, giving a shaky bow.
As Ms. Crawford moved to enter the rows of flowerbeds, Alicia hung back.
“Renfield,” she called out.
The old man paused with his shears. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“Did the late duchess spend lots of time out here?”
Renfield lit up at the question, a wide smile stretching across his face to expose missing and cracked teeth. “Oh, yes, Your Grace. She preferred to spend her time here.”
“And why is that?”
“Well, Your Grace,” he explained, “on that day when a babe?—”
“Renfield!”
The groundskeeper froze and dropped his shears, head drooped down.
Ms. Crawford stood beside Alicia, arms twisted behind her back and a venomous look on her face. “Donotspeak of things you do not know about,” she snapped. “And get back to work. You are not paid to socialize.”
Without another word, Renfield turned away from Alicia, picking up his shears and disappearing into a nearby shed.
Alicia turned, watching as the housekeeper motioned for her to follow deeper into the gardens. A suspicion crawled up her throat as they walked, and despite the beautiful flowers and rows of bushes that lined a cobbled walkway, Alicia’s mind could not stop racing about the ever-growing secret that filled the halls of Garvey.
“This way, Your Grace,” Ms. Crawford said as she pushed past another small gate into another section of the garden. “This will be our last piece of the tour this afternoon.”
Alicia chewed on the inside of her mouth. The end of her time with Ms. Crawford meant seeing the duke once more, and after the sudden coldness, she wanted nothing to do with him.
Within this separate section of the garden, Ms. Crawford stepped aside to show a series of roses that stretched across a wall. There were vines laced up and down the wall, blood-red roses blossoming on every corner. They were the largest blossoming flower Alicia had ever seen.
