Page 40 of Stolen By the Duke of Ice
Dahlia was surprised when he greeted each servant by their names; there were by no means just a few of them, so it was more impressive to her that he remembered them all.
She noticed, too, the stark contrast in his manner as soon as he handed her down from the carriage. His formal mien, his face, again an unreadable mask, were things that she had not seen in the past few days. Suffice it to say that she had quite got used to either an annoyed Peter or an amused Peter. And today, a teasing and happy Peter, by far her favorite Peter. But this, the Duke of Ice, was definitely not her favorite Peter. Uncertainty shadowed her initial excitement of their arrival.
What changed since our arrival at Icedale Castle?
After he had presented her to the staff, Peter led her inside.
“Are we to meet your sisters now?”
Peter nodded and gestured towards a door that was left ajar. From inside, feminine conversation could be heard. He entered the room first, Dahlia standing behind him.
“Brother!” exclaimed two voices in unison.
“Good evening, Mary, Claire.”
He stepped aside and led Dahlia forward. The twins both stood.
“Dahlia, may I present my sisters, Ladies Mary and Claire Thornscroft. Mary, Claire, I present my wife, Dahlia Thornscroft, Duchess of Icedale.”
My wife.
Despite her uncertainty, she felt her heart beat fast.
All three ladies curtsied politely.
“We are most happy to meet you, Your Grace,” Mary said with a reserved smile.
“As am I, but please, you must call me Dahlia.” Dahlia smiled warmly at the twins.”
“Dahlia then,” Claire agreed, reciprocating the smile.
Sisters.
She could not help it. As an only child, Dahlia had always been envious of her cousins; they all had siblings, some as many as eight even. To be a twin! They were always together, were they not? To have that certainty of companionship, to have never been alone—even in the womb—was a wonderful thought to Dahlia.
“Pardon me, Your Grace.”
Mrs. Baker stood by the door. Beside her stood Biddy, who had arrived with Dahlia’s luggage. Dahlia smiled at her, glad to see a familiar face.
“The mistress’ chambers are ready.”
“You must forgive us; it has been a very long day for us,” Peter addressed the twins. “We shall see you in the morning.”
“Of course, brother,” the girls replied, once again, in unison.
Peter turned to Dahlia, took her hand, kissed it, and bowed.
“I leave you in Mrs. Baker’s capable hands. Good night, Dahlia.”
She shot him a questioning look but curtsied, nonetheless.
“Good night, Peter.”
Looking at her one more time, it seemed to Dahlia that he was about to say something more but suddenly changed his mind. Instead, he turned and left.
“This way, please, Your Grace,” Mrs. Baker said warmly.
The housekeeper, lantern in hand, led the way to the mistress’ chambers. As they walked, she regaled Dahlia with histories of the areas of the castle that they passed. A more extensive tour of the castle would have to wait, and that, she hoped, wouldbe conducted by Peter himself. Now and then, they passed a footman or a maid, who bowed or curtsied to her.
