Say Yes to the Duke (20 page)

Her voice started out thin—it had been a long while since she’d sung a note—but as
she continued the ballad, which Daddy sang every morning to Mama as he prepared for
the day, the notes grew stronger and stronger. And by the middle of it, she was in
full voice and her heart was happy—

Especially when she saw that the dowager was well pleased. Her eyes brightened and
she seemed to follow hungrily every word Janice sang.

When the last note finally drifted away, Her Majesty sighed long and loud. “Now that’s
singing,” she said simply.

Janice smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She had, too.

She glanced over her shoulder at Mrs. Poole, who for the first time ever managed to
smile in return. It was nothing spectacular—it was barely a curve of her lips—but
at least it was better than the grim face she usually presented.

“My grandfather used to
s-s-s-sing
that,” she said, her whistle particularly pronounced.

“No noise from the minstrels’ gallery,” barked the dowager. “I can’t abide the flute.
Such a prissy instrument. Give me a horn any day.”

Janice cast a glance at the nurse. Her face was redder than usual. Of course she’d
heard the slight. “I’m so sorry,” Janice murmured.

The nurse turned her very square back on her.

“Your Majesty”—Janice felt terrible for Mrs. Poole—“you must be kinder. You must be
terribly unhappy to pick on your caretaker.”

“What do
you
think? I can’t do any proper ruling from this bed.” The dowager gave a great sigh.
“How’s your plan going, by the way? Are you listening to my advice?”

“Yes.” Janice was glad for the change of subject. “And it’s working.”

Her Majesty chuckled. “I knew it would. So, what will be the first thing you do as
duchess?”

“I don’t know” Janice’s face heated. “It might not happen. We’re only at the beginning
stage of the … the strategy.”

The dowager waved her hand. “It works fast. So prepare yourself. Soon you’ll be a
powerful woman.”

“Like you?” Janice asked her.

“I’ve had my moments,” her hostess said smugly, but then her forehead wrinkled. “Although …
although I recall not taking advantage of all of them. I should have spoken up. I
should have said no.
No.
” She slapped the coverlet, the creases around her eyes and mouth deepening.

Janice detected a slight tremble of her lips and took her hand. “It’s all right. Please
let me sing you another song.”

But the dowager seemed to forget she was there. “I stood by.… I knew what he’d done.”

“Really, Your Majesty. I know a lovely marching song—”

“But I didn’t know what to do,” Her Majesty insisted, not heeding Janice in the least.
“I loved him, you see. He was all—he was all I had left.” She lifted her chin and
looked off into the distance, the very picture of a noble queen.

Janice felt compelled to take
both
her hands and give them a squeeze. “Really, Your Majesty, you did everything you
could. Please don’t have any regrets.”

“Regrets?” The frail lady made a scornful face. “I can’t afford those. Duty won’t
allow it. We must—” She stopped speaking, and after a long second of inhaling and
looking generally uncomfortable she reached out for the handkerchief on her lap and
sneezed.

Atchoo!

Janice looked back at Mrs. Poole, who was standing and watching. There was a trace
of something in her eye—concern, Janice could see. Genuine concern.

“She doesn’t usually talk like this,” the nurse said. “You mustn’t rile her.”

“I’m so sorry.” Guilt made Janice shrink up in her chair.

“I’m
fine,
” said the patient with a chuckle. Her entire demeanor had changed. She was back to
being the sweet elderly Dowager Duchess of Halsey. “Good thing you’re here, Lady Janice.
I’m ready to leave this room. No one else will let me. Will you?”

She had a charming twinkle in her eye.

Janice breathed a sigh of relief. Yet she couldn’t be at ease for long. Both the Queen
and the dowager wanted to get out of the bedchamber. And in Janice’s heart—no matter
how well-intentioned the duke and the doctor were—she believed, too, that some fresh
scenery would do the dowager a great deal of good.

But she shouldn’t make that decision. Surely not. It wasn’t her place.

“Let me … let me talk to Mrs. Poole a moment, Your Grace. I’ll be right back.” She
smiled—trying her best to be cheerful in spite of her concerns—and stood.

Mrs. Poole looked at her suspiciously as she approached. “My lady, don’t even think
about it.”

Janice sighed. “It’s cruel to keep her in here.”

“It’s what His Grace demands. And what the doctor ordered.”

“Who
is
this doctor?”

“Dr. Nolan.”

“When was the last time he was here?”

“About three months ago.”

“Three
months
?”

Mrs. Poole nodded.

Janice shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m taking her out.”

“You will
not
—”

Janice strode by the nurse to a door she’d never seen Mrs. Poole open and laid her
hand on the knob. “You don’t have to help, and I’ll tell His Grace you tried your
best to stop me.”

“No one will assist you. No servant here wants to lose his or her job.”

“That’s a shame but understandable. I have my own maid and Mrs. Friday, my chaperone,
to lend me aid.” Janice opened the door and looked into a small room that held a cot
and a bureau but nothing else. “Where’s Her Grace’s Bath chair?”

“I’m not telling,” said Mrs. Poole from behind her. “And your own maid and chaperone
are in the stables. I saw them walking out there myself.”

To see the puppies, of course.

Janice immediately thought of Mr. Callahan and wondered when he’d be back.

“I’ll fetch them then.” Janice shut the door. “And I’ll find that chair. I’ll get
Her Grace out of here without you, Mrs. Poole. So there.”

The nurse crossed her arms. “By the time you get your maid and chaperone, the dowager
will be asleep again. So you might as well not bother. Besides, I’ll tell His Grace.”

“Fine.” Janice gave a short laugh. “You do that. And when you fall asleep
there
tonight”—she angled her head at the little room—“you’ll know that you’ve done your
duty.”

“Exactly.” The woman’s tone was self-satisfied.

“And when you wake up tomorrow,” Janice reminded her, “you’ll come right back into
this bedchamber and sit all day. Just as you always do. You’re as trapped here as
the duchess is.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re right. You have your own box to retreat to at night.”

Mrs. Poole’s mouth thinned. “There’s nothing wrong with it. At least it’s private.”

“Right. The rest of the servants are crammed into the attics, aren’t they? Poor things.
Always seeing each other … laughing, joking, having company. It must be awful. Much
better to be in here with nothing to do and no one to speak you except your patient—whom
you ignore.”

Mrs. Poole took a deep breath. “You’ve
s-s-s-said
enough, my lady.”

“I wonder what you’re so afraid of?” Janice cocked her head. “Are you nervous about
that whistle? Because once you hear it several times, you don’t notice it anymore.”

“How dare ye speak of that!” A rough accent spilled from the attendant now. “You heard
Her Majesty. She don’t like it.”

Janice shook her head. “She’s difficult, isn’t she? But I’ll wager that when she’s
herself—the dowager duchess—she’s never said a word about it to you.”

The nurse hesitated. “No, she hasn’t. Only the Queen has.”

“I’m so sorry about that,” said Janice. “Listen to me, Mrs. Poole. I’m speaking the
truth. I find your whistle not imposing at all. And when you smile—as you did today—I
completely forget about it anyway.”

Mrs. Poole went to the window and looked out. “You’re only one person,” she said over
her shoulder. “I see them snickering, the other servants.”

“Perhaps it’s because you’re always grumpy. I know that my own maid, Isobel, told
me that you were so lucky to be able to sing like a bird. And she was sad that you
weren’t more cheerful.”

“Easy for her to say.” The nurse’s square back was unyielding.

Janice walked slowly up to her. “I’m sure it will require courage. But perhaps you
could smile more when you’re in the other parts of the house and when you’re here
with the dowager. I know she’ll appreciate it, even if the Queen never does.”

Mrs. Poole turned, her mouth grim. “I’ll think on it.”

“Good.” Janice smiled. “Now it will take more courage to direct me to the Bath chair.
But I assure you that I won’t let the duke fire you. I’ll tell him I found it myself
and that you protested mightily when I removed the duchess from her bed.”

“A scrawny thing like you can’t do that on your own.” There was no heat or insult
in the nurse’s voice.

“Certainly I can,” Janice assured her. “I grew up with three brothers. I swung from
trees often. I can lift a sack of potatoes with ease. I’m sure I can get an elderly
woman into a Bath chair.”

“I’ll help you do that, at least,” Mrs. Poole muttered.

“Will you?” Janice’s heart sped up.

Mrs. Poole nodded. “I’ll be right back. The chair is down the hall. It hasn’t been
used since we moved here a year ago. I lift her off the bed and directly into the
tub to bathe her.”

Poor dowager, she’d been trapped in this bedchamber for far too long!

While Mrs. Poole was gone, Janice prepared the elderly lady for their outing. “We’re
going to take you to a special room,” she said, “with a beautiful view. The windows
go from the floor to the ceiling, and you’ll be able to see the gardens covered in
snow and, behind them, the beautiful pasture and trees.”

“My old sitting room,” said the duchess with a bit of wonder.

Janice’s heart lifted. Her elderly friend seemed excited!

But then the duchess hesitated and slowly shook her head. “No,” she said. “I’ve changed
my mind. I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready.”

“It’s all right,” Janice assured her. “You belong there, Your Grace.”

“I-I can’t.”

“You just sit back.” Janice would be confident for her. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care
of getting you there.”

The dowager didn’t look at all happy, but she said nothing else.

Janice realized she’d have to coax her little by little to resume a normal life.

When the nurse returned, she insisted on putting the fragile old woman in the chair
herself. Janice held her breath, but it went quite well. Mrs. Poole tucked a pretty
quilt around Her Grace and stood back.

“There you are.” The nurse was as stiff as ever, but she also looked a bit proud of
herself.

“Thank you so much,” Janice said. “You were very gentle.”

Mrs. Poole nodded.

Janice pushed the chair to the door, which Mrs. Poole opened for her.

“See you in an hour or so,” Janice told her cheerfully.

Mrs. Poole said nothing as she walked by.

Out in the hall, Janice felt all the importance of the moment. The dowager was free!

“How are you?” She smiled as she looked around the chair at the elderly woman.

But the dowager wouldn’t answer. She was obviously frightened at being out of her
room, which made Janice furious at the duke.

She resumed pushing the chair. “I promise it will be all right. Remember how anxious
you were to get out? Well, now it’s happening. You’re going to enjoy yourself.”

At the turn of the corridor, she suddenly remembered the two flights of stairs she’d
have to go down and swallowed back her panic. No doubt she could manage. She was strong
as an ox. She’d turn the chair backward and go first, holding the handle in an iron
grip. And then she’d gently lower it from step to step.…

She hoped she wouldn’t jar the duchess too much.

But what if Her Grace’s bones were brittle and weak?

Janice paused and swallowed. What if she’d been a complete idiot to ignore the doctor’s
advice? And the duke’s orders?

Breathe,
she told herself.

But the panicked thoughts came at her, a relentless onslaught of doubt.

You’ve involved this poor old woman.

You’re prideful.

Stupid.

Mama and Daddy would be furious!

“Lady Janice?” the dowager asked her hopefully. “May we turn around now?”

“There’s no need, Your Grace.” She did her best to sound merry. “You’ll be fine. We’ll
get there soon enough.” Should she simply leave her here, run out to the stables,
and get Isobel or Mrs. Friday? Wouldn’t that frighten the duchess, to be left all
alone? And what if she
did
fall asleep again? “I-I only paused because I needed to adjust my shoe.” She said
a quick prayer and continued down the hall, the Bath chair rolling smoothly over the
carpet.

She’d do it. On her own. But when they came to the stairs, she couldn’t help it—her
eyes welled up. This was going to be extremely difficult. But she couldn’t disappoint
the dowager now. Yes, the old lady acted as if she didn’t want to go, but she needed
to see that she could thrive outside of that bedchamber. She
must
see that. Otherwise, she’d continue begging Janice to help her escape.

Janice’s hands trembled on the handles of the chair. What if she dropped her hostess?

She inhaled again, another long, slow breath, and decided that she simply wouldn’t
drop her. She’d keep Her Grace safe.

With a deliberate air, Janice turned the chair around, looked behind her, and lowered
her own feet to the top stair.

That’s it.

She lowered her right foot another step and gave a gentle pull on the chair. At the
same time, she lifted with all her might so that the wheel wouldn’t go
kerplump.

There.
Her heart pounded furiously. But the duchess was safe on the first step.