Page 58 of Duke of Emeralds
Mrs. Smith’s face softened a fraction which was a rare sight. “She’s well enough, Your Grace. She spent ample time in the gardens, but today she is with the new charge. Miss Arabella isas happy in her company as the children from St. Brigid’s. She’s made quite a difference if I may say.”
Thomas allowed himself a brief exhale. “Good. She’ll need more supplies and a workroom and any help of her own choosing.”
Mrs. Smith’s brows rose, but she said only, “As you wish, Your Grace.”
He paused then added, “There’s to be a studio built in the east wing for the Duchess. You’re to keep her from it until I give word.”
A shadow of a smile crossed the woman’s face, but it was gone in an instant, so much so that he though he’d imagined it. “Of course, Your Grace.”
He left the larder feeling oddly lighter.
Thomas was halfway up the main staircase when he encountered Slater, standing at rigid attention with the morning post on a tray.
“Messages from Town, Your Grace,” Slater announced, presenting the silver.
Thomas plucked through them: a thick missive from the Marquess of Alderton—probably to gloat about the ball—another from Isaac and Colin, and near the bottom, a pale blue missive bearing the Hightower crest.
The letter was likely from her brother, and he tried to picture Hester’s face when she received it. Would she smile, or would it deepen the ache of homesickness she hid so well? The idea unsettled him.
He took the letter, deciding to deliver it himself.
The season was still ongoing, and perhaps she would prefer to return to London. To be closer to the world she was familiar with. Yet the prospect of an empty castle, and of her somewhere he could not see her, twisted his gut in a way that was both unfamiliar and unpleasant.
CHAPTER 26
“Your Grace is looking remarkably well this morning,” Mrs. Smith said as she sat in the chair adjacent to Hester’s in the drawing room. “And I am pleased to report that the child’s cough is all but gone.”
Hester, her hand poised over the handle of the teapot, found herself smiling back. “Arabella is improved, then?”
“She is, Your Grace. She ate two eggs and a full orange this morning and has been up and dressed since before the bells. She has also taken to exploring the castle halls. I had to order her back to rest an hour ago.”
It was possible, Hester thought, to feel proud of a child not her own. She set the cup aside and leaned forward. “Mrs. Smith, His Grace and I have decided to keep the girl on as our ward. I expect you already guessed as much.”
Mrs. Smith’s eyes moved to the closed door then back. “If I may be so bold, Your Grace. Lushton Castle has never been a home to the unfortunate, but I am happy that is changing. It would be my pleasure to see her thrive here. And,” the woman offered a rare smile, “to keep the details of her parentage among those who have already guessed.”
Hester tensed, hoping the housekeeper did not assume Arabella belonged to Thomas. As if Mrs. Smith could read her thoughts, she said, “The late Duke’s errors are no child’s fault, and I will help you spare Miss Arabella any shame.”
“Thank you,” Hester sighed with relief.
Mrs. Smith’s lips compressed. “The former Duke was not a man to hide his appetites. It is a comfort to us all that the new one has sense, and—” she coughed delicately “—a temperate disposition.”
Hester wanted to laugh, or perhaps embrace the housekeeper, for her deftness in condemning the old Duke while praising the new. “I will rely on your discretion.”
A silence, not at all awkward, passed between them. “About the governess you instructed me to find for Miss Arabella. I received word from a Miss Margaret Wilmot, and she arrives this afternoon to meet you.”
Hester brightened. “That is excellent.”
“I have readied the green salon.”
Hester sipped her tea, but her mind was already racing ahead to the prospect of an afternoon spent interviewing the woman for Bella’s care. “If Arabella is well enough, I should like her to attend the meeting. Her opinion must weigh in our decision.”
Mrs. Smith permitted herself a half-smile. “Very sensible, Your Grace.” She added, as if it were a matter of mere routine.
“It is not always easy for children to adapt to new circumstances.”
“Indeed,” Mrs. Smith replied. She rose, tucked her hands behind her back, and cast one last approving glance around the room. “I shall see to the arrangements at once, Your Grace.”
No sooner had the housekeeper left than Slater appeared in the doorway. “A Miss Margaret Wilmot has arrived, Your Grace.”
