Say Yes to the Duke (29 page)

“But the snow, my lord,” Janice said. “It will be rough going.”

“What’s a little snow? I’ve never stayed in Bramblewood. Perhaps it’s time.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” she said. “And—“

“Oh, yes,” he interrupted her. “I plan to make a substantial donation to the parish
and St. Mungo’s, too.”

“Very good, sir.” She smiled at him. “But I must also ask your help in getting Sir
Milo involved. When we get back to London, you and Lord Rowntree will go with the
duke and me to deliver the news to the baronet: he’s now a benefactor of Bramblewood
Parish and the orphanage.”

Lord Yarrow winced. “Very well, my lady.”

“Good-bye, my lord.” She sent him a little wave and thought,
Mission accomplished.

But she had many more as Halsey’s future wife. Her job as duchess would keep her busy,
busy enough, she hoped, that she could bear not leading the fantasy life she longed
for—

A life that centered around her love for a workingman named Luke Callahan.

She remembered how he’d cradled her in his lap and kissed her so tenderly, and her
longing for him nearly made her double over.

But it was not to be, she reminded herself dully.

It
couldn’t
be.

She caught the duke’s gaze. The soft smile playing about his lips appeared benign
to the casual observer. But she knew him better than that and suddenly realized why
he’d not stood in her way that morning. No matter how much she asserted herself, there
was one thing she could never have: Luke.

And as long as Halsey could taunt her with that fact, he was happy.

Chapter Twenty-four

“There has to be a bright side to being the Duchess of Halsey,” Isobel said. “Other
than the fact that you’ll wear exquisite ball gowns, travel the world, and be rich.”

They were in Janice’s bedchamber writing letters to their loved ones in London. Surely
the snow would melt soon and the missives could go out.

Janice laid down her quill. “I’m determined to find one,” she agreed. “This morning
was a good start.”

“The dowager’s situation is sure to improve,” Isobel said. “And you won’t have to
worry about having ramshackle guests lounging about.”

“True, and now that I think about it, Mrs. Friday can also stay my companion as long
as she wishes.”

“You can find her a husband, too.”

“Good point. And I can be glad that Esmeralda and the puppies will be close by.”

“They’re already adored by Cook.” Isobel chuckled. “She gave Esmeralda a massive bone
and a talking-to to the pups. They’re running their mother ragged, rolling about as
they are and squeaking so loudly. Cook won’t put up with it.”

Janice chuckled. “Then there are all the roles I’ll play as a new duchess. I’ll get
to know the tenants at all Halsey’s estates, and I’ll participate in village life.”

“I’ve already heard the vicar in Bramblewood is gorgeous,” said Isobel.

“And in London, I’ll have so many parties to attend and give myself that I’ll probably
never sleep.”

“Don’t forget children,” Isobel said.

“Right,” Janice said faintly.

Isobel leaned closer. “You know how they say to think of the Queen when you’re in
bed with your husband doing your duty?” she whispered. “I’ve heard something else
entirely.”

“What?”

“Think of the handsomest man you’ve ever seen.” Isobel gave one nod of her head. “That
would be Mr. Groom-in-the-stables. I know
I
will.”

“But I can’t!” Janice cried. “That would be too … too much torture. And
you
can’t because he’s—he’s mine.”

Isobel bit her lip. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

Janice nodded. “I do, Izzy. This isn’t some fling to learn how to kiss better. Or
to satisfy some curiosity about what men’s bodies look like.”

“Oh, God. Do you know?”

Janice nodded.

Isobel fell flat back on the bed. “You’ve seen …
him.
”

“You
are
supposed to be a maid, you know.” Janice said, looking down at her.

Izzy sat up on her elbows. “My lady, you are the luckiest—”

“But surely all these things,” Janice interrupted her with a steely glance, “will
serve to distract me.”

“From him?” Isobel asked tentatively.

“Yes.” Janice sighed. The plain fact was that she couldn’t be with her own man like
no other. “Please move over, Izzy. I want to fall back on the bed now.”

“Yes, my lady.” Isobel looked most concerned.

But instead of falling, Janice merely crawled onto the bed and held on to a pillow.
“Oh, Marcia and Mama,” she whispered.

“What is it, my lady?” Isobel reached out and patted her back.

“They told me that true love would be mine.”

But instead she faced the prospect of bringing children into the world when she didn’t
love their father. How painful would that be? Always she’d have to hide the truth
from them—and from her own siblings and her parents—that she and Halsey were not a
love match.

Lies. She hated telling lies. She’d never be able to be herself again.…

Misery loomed before her.

But she wouldn’t succumb to it.

She sat up. “I’m of the House of Brady, Isobel. And although I’ll be the first of
us to marry without love, I’ll forge on.”

“You will, my lady.”

“I can’t have Luke, but I can still help him.”

“Yes,” said Isobel. “You will. I’m sorry to say that I’ve had no luck with the other
servants. At dinner I told them my mum knew someone named Emily March who once worked
here, but no one’s been here long enough to know of her, except the butler, and he
said he can’t remember lady’s maids from thirty years ago.”

“That’s all the more reason for me to get up and go see the dowager.”

Isobel brushed Janice’s hair an extra hundred strokes for good luck, then sent her
on her way.

In the dark bedchamber, Janice sat in her usual chair. “Your Grace, do you remember
a lady’s maid called Emily March?”

The dowager squinted into the distance. “Oh, yes. She worked for me.” She rested the
butt of her palm on her forehead. “I can’t remember. There was something about her.
Something important.”

Janice’s temples pounded. What if she could find the journal for Luke? “Was she …
a good lady’s maid?”

The dowager nodded. “The best. I didn’t have her long, though, and I can’t remember
why.
Mrs. Poole!”

Mrs. Poole looked up from her sewing.

“Do you remember Emily March?”

“No, my lady. I’ve only been working for you the past year. Did she work for you long
ago, when you lived at Halsey House before?”

“Yes,” said the dowager with some excitement. “She was my lady’s maid when my husband,
Liam, was still alive.”

“Anything else you can remember about her?” Janice asked.

“No, no.” The dowager shifted on her pillows. “And I want to remember her. Desperately.
Something happened to her.”

“Really?”

The dowager nodded. “But I’m drawing a blank.”

Janice withheld a sigh. “That’s all right.”

The dowager held her hand. “Mrs. Poole tells me you and Halsey will be married.”

“Yes,” said Janice.

The elderly woman smiled. “Are you happy?”

Janice nodded. “Everything’s wonderful.”

The dowager stared at her a moment as if seeing her for the first time. “There’s something
not right,” she said. “Which grandson are you marrying, my dear?”

Janice patted her hand. “Halsey, of course.”

“Yes, Halsey.” The dowager blinked. “I want you to marry the duke. Please—don’t marry
anyone else. I’m sure he’s a good man. I feel it in my bones. He’ll make you a fine
husband, and I want
you,
Lady Janice—only you—as my granddaughter.”

“I plan to marry him, Your Grace, so you don’t have to worry on that count.”

The dowager smiled sadly. “If only I could see him before I die.”

“But you do, Your Grace.” Janice went along with her. “You see him every day at three
o’clock.”

The dowager’s forehead furrowed. “Yes,” she said, “I-I do, don’t I? You mean Grayson,
of course. He was such a sweet little boy. I remember when his mother was alive. She
was a darling girl, and I’m sorry to say she wasn’t here long. He was ten when she
died of the influenza—but she loved him. Oh, how she did.”

“I’m so glad he knew a mother’s love,” whispered Janice, and wondered how Grayson
could have gone so wrong.

The dowager sighed. “Russell never remarried, and I always wished that he had.” She
sucked in a breath. “Little Grayson needed a mother. I tried to move back in here
to be that mother figure to him, but Russell wouldn’t let me. I begged him. I even
offered to take Grayson to the dower house, but Russell said no. And so … I failed
my grandson. It was the greatest opportunity of my life, to nurture that boy. But
Russell won. He seemed to delight in keeping Grayson and me apart.”

Her eyes were filled with such remorse, Janice leaned over and embraced her as best
she could with all the pillows surrounding her. Her heart broke at the little sob
the duchess emitted. “You can’t have failed him, Your Grace, if he loves you so much
that he comes to see you every day at three o’clock.”

Janice took a moment to wipe the one tear that clung to the dowager’s paper-thin cheek
with the lacy handkerchief she always had in her lap.

“His mother died at three o’clock,” the duchess said. “And he was there at her bedside
when she did. The doctor told everyone to keep him away. But he was as strong willed
as his father. He sneaked in to be with her. Russell was nowhere near, of course.
He was out carousing.”

“Poor Grayson,” Janice murmured. She hated him. Truly hated him. But she somehow couldn’t
help feeling sorry for the little boy he’d been.

The dowager dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. “I think he comes to see me
at three because I’m a link to her. I should have taken her place when she died, and
I didn’t. I’m not sure if he’s here every day to punish me for neglecting him—or if
he needs me still.”

“People are complicated,” Janice said. “Perhaps it’s both. Have you told him how hard
you fought for him?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t seem to believe me.”

“Why not latch on to the positive then? Let’s assume he craves your interest in him.
What do you talk about when he’s here?”

“I-I pretend to sleep most of the time.” The duchess blushed. “My guilt is so deep,
and his scorn so great. He tries not to show it, but I see it in his mouth, how it’s
never soft and relaxed. And in his eyes. They’re full of smoldering anger.”

Janice knew exactly what the dowager was talking about.

“Other times,” the dowager said, “I simply don’t remember his visits at all.”

Those must have been the times she channeled the Queen, Janice realized. And the ambitious,
Machiavellian Queen was very fond of Halsey—she’d wanted to see him married, after
all, and told Janice the secret to winning him. Maybe the Queen and Grayson had discussed
that very thing and the dowager simply wasn’t aware of that.

“I have an idea,” said Janice. “Speak to him about what kind of qualities you valued
in your own husband. And remind him of all the hopes you have for him as my future
husband. I could use the help, Your Grace.” She smiled wryly.

“I like that idea,” said the dowager. “My husband was a very good man and a wonderful
husband. Grayson should know more about him.”

Janice was glad to see her smile. “On a new subject, I have to tell you—your orchids
at the dower house are lovely.”

“Oh, yes. I’m obsessed with them.”

“I know you’d like to see them again.”

The dowager nodded. “Will I ever?”

“Yes.” Janice smiled. “You will. We’re going to start slowly. First, we’ll move you
downstairs to your old bedchamber here at Halsey House, the one you shared with your
duke.”

“Really? I’ll get to see the seasons change.” The dowager couldn’t look any happier.

“After a while, we’ll start moving you around to other parts of the house—the library,
the drawing room, and the conservatory.”

The dowager’s eyes lit up.

“And then,” Janice said, “on your next birthday, which I understand is in June, we’ll
take you to the stove house again. How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” said the dowager. “A little bit at a time.”

“Exactly,” said Janice.

“Because I can’t—I can’t go too fast. No, if I do, I forget things.” She grabbed Janice’s
arm. “I-I don’t want to forget about my grandson. I want to see him.”

She sounded so distressed!

“It’s all right, Your Grace. I won’t let you forget him. And you will see him, many
times.”

The dowager’s nose puckered up, and then she sneezed into her handkerchief. Janice
held her breath while she dabbed at her nose and opened her eyes. The Queen looked
back at her with her usual scornful expression.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” Janice said with a smile. “How can I help you?”

The old lady scowled. “You’ve won Halsey, have you not?”

Janice nodded.

“Very good.”

“But I-I wish I hadn’t, quite frankly.”

The Queen drew in her chin. “How can you say that?”

Janice hesitated. “He’s … he’s wicked, I’m afraid.” She felt the Queen should know,
but she hoped speaking honestly wouldn’t upset her too much.

The Queen merely swatted her with her handkerchief. The spirited lady reveled in conflict,
after all. “He’s cut from his father’s cloth, you idiot. What do you expect?”

“No,” Janice said, “
you’ve
told him that he’s like his father, but he doesn’t have to be. Next time he comes
up here, I demand you tell him to improve his behavior. You let him know that it’s
not all right to act like his father. Or I’ll … I’ll stage a coup.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, yes, I would.”

The Queen sat quietly for a few moments, and Janice could swear she was scheming.