Page 53 of Stolen By the Duke of Ice
“You seem thoughtful tonight, Your Grace,” Biddy observed as she brushed her mistress’ hair.
Looking away from the snow falling outside the window, Dahlia saw her reflection in the mirror. Fresh from a bath and clad in her sleeping attire and dressing gown, she was stripped of all embellishment. How many times had she looked at her face in the mirror? A thousand perhaps?
I thought I knew myself. But being here in this castle with these people?—
She sighed.
“Perhaps a cup of tea, Your Grace? Or some warm milk? That was always the thing when you found yourself restless.”
“I am not restless.” Dahlia frowned at Biddy.
“Of course not, Your Grace.”
“There are merely some things on my mind.”
“Like a tall and handsome gentleman?”
Dahlia slapped at Biddy’s arm but caught only air as her lady’s maid stepped laughingly away.
“No, you cannot be more wrong, Biddy!”
“Your Grace, I have been in your service as a lady’s maid since you came of age. Before that, I tended to you when you were too old for a governess. I know all your moods and your expressions.”
“Oh, Biddy, it is just that I am so confused, and I feel so guilty!”
“Can it be fixed?”
“What?”
“My ma, rest her soul, would always ask me if a problem can be fixed. If it can, then who can fix it? Simple as that, she would always say.”
Simple as that.
“You are truly a treasure, dear Biddy.”
“That I know, Your Grace!” Biddy said with a satisfied grin.
“Biddy, I must ask you to do one more thing for me before you retire for the night.”
“No one in the castle knows where the Duke is.”
Dahlia replayed Biddy’s information in her head as she sat beside the fire.
“He hasn’t returned since he left with Mr. Phillips, Your Grace.”
But Biddy’s information was more than an hour old. He must be back by now. She looked at the clock on her mantle, a quarter after the hour of one.
“Maybe it is best if I wait until the morning.”
She went to bed and slipped under the bed covers. She closed her eyes then she opened them again.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Dahlia!”
She climbed off the bed and put on her dressing robes and slippers. At the last moment, she added a wrapper. Not for her sake but for Peter’s.
If Peter was back, Dahlia had a feeling she knew where she would find him.
She went to the tray of food that Mrs. Baker now always had sent up to her chambers after her evening toilette. The plate contained four slices of bread, cheese, grapes, and a handful of nuts. She took it.
