Page 30 of Duke of Gold
Margaret exhaled shakily, her composure unraveling the moment she was alone. A surge of frustration coursed through her, sharp and unyielding, but it wasn’t directed at Morgan. No, she was angry at herself.
Foolish, foolish girl,she thought, pressing a trembling hand to her forehead. She had overstepped, broached a subject too soon, and the fragile connection she’d begun to build with him now lay in ruins. Whatever steps she thought she’d taken toward bridging the chasm between them, she now feared she had undone with a single question.
Her gaze lingered on the door he had vanished through, an ache settling in her chest. She wanted to call him back, to apologize, toexplain, but she knew it would be futile. The walls he had erected tonight were higher and thicker than ever.
Margaret’s hands balled into fists, resting on the table. She had come so close—so close. And now? Now she was left staring into the chasm again, unsure if she’d ever cross it.
CHAPTER 14
“The new lady’s maid is here for you to assess, Your Grace,” Mrs. Hallewell said as Peggy finished her breakfast. Her tone, as always, was even and measured, but her sharp eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary.
Peggy waved a hand dismissively, the weight of the previous night’s events still pressing heavily on her mind. “I trust your judgment, Mrs. Hallewell. There’s no need for me to make any assessments.”
The housekeeper inclined her head in acknowledgment, but Peggy could feel the faint judgment that radiated from the older woman. It only added to her frustration. She had spent a restless night, her thoughts looping endlessly over Morgan’s abrupt departure and the anger that had crackled between them. She had not seen him since, and the worry that gnawed at her was as baffling as it was unwelcome.
The morning dragged, and by the afternoon, Peggy found herself in her study, attempting to lose herself in her book. She turned page after page, but the words seemed to blur, her mind too distracted to follow the story. With a sigh of defeat, she set the book aside and wandered upstairs to her bedchamber.
Opening the door, she was startled to see a young woman folding linens near the wardrobe. The maid curtsied swiftly, her movements bright and confident. “Your Grace,” she said with a smile. “I am Daisy Wren, your new lady’s maid.”
Peggy blinked, caught off guard by the girl’s liveliness, a quality the household had sorely lacked. She tilted her head slightly, studying the maid, who continued to put away laundry with quick, efficient hands. There was something refreshing about her manner, and Peggy felt an odd sense of relief at the sight.
“I do hope that my services will be to Your Grace’s standards and satisfaction,” Daisy added, turning back with a hopeful expression.
“Oh, I have no doubts we shall get along just fine,” Peggy replied warmly. “For a start, you talk, which is more than one usually gets in this household. So that’s a relief,” she added, a sheepish chuckle escaping her lips.
Daisy smiled, a flash of good humor in her expression. “I understand, Your Grace. In the village, this household is known as the Silent Castle.”
Peggy arched a brow at the term.The Silent Castle.It had a certain grim poetry to it. “And what do you make of such a reputation?” she asked, unable to keep the curiosity from her tone.
Daisy shrugged lightly, still smiling. “It suits some folk. My cousin Molly is a chambermaid here. She was the one who told me about the vacancy and spoke to Mrs. Hallewell on my behalf.”
“She’s done you a great kindness then,” Peggy said.
“She has, though Molly has always been a bit... withdrawn,” Daisy admitted.
“Withdrawn is a subtle way to put it,” Peggy said with a wry smile. “Half the time, it feels like an eternal slumber in this castle.”
Daisy laughed softly. “Rest assured, Your Grace, you now have someone to converse with. Whenever you wish it, I shall be right at your service.”
Peggy couldn’t help but return the smile. She hadn’t realized how deeply she had craved even the simplest companionship until this moment. “Well then, Daisy Wren, I shall count on you.”
Later that afternoon, Peggy found herself back at the charity meeting. The ladies were as welcoming as they had been before,their chatter warm and lively. This time, the conversation shifted to plans for the annual charity ball.
“It is to be held next week,” Lady Aleshire explained, her tone brisk and efficient. “It is our largest event of the year and always raises a substantial amount for our causes.”
“We shall require all the assistance we can muster,” Mrs. Pattons added. “There are invitations to send, decorations to arrange, and we must ensure the orchestra is prepared.”
“I have a feeling this ball would be one with an even bigger difference this year,” Lady Aleshire said, her smile bright.
“I would be delighted to help in any way I can,” Peggy offered eagerly.
Lady Aleshire nodded approvingly. “Your Grace, your assistance would be most welcome.”
The women began dividing tasks, their energy infectious. Peggy couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so engaged, so... purposeful. For the first time since arriving at Giltford, she allowed herself a spark of optimism. There was work to be done—and perhaps, along the way, connections to be forged.
Later, as Peggy strolled past one of the drawing rooms, something caught her eye. Or rather, someone. Through the open doors, she spied her husband standing on the terrace, hisfigure silhouetted against the fading sunlight as he gazed out over the gardens.
Curiosity piqued, she retraced her steps and stepped onto the terrace, the cool air brushing her cheeks. Morgan didn’t turn to acknowledge her, but he spoke all the same.
