Page 15

“Yes, yes,” Michael muttered. “We’ve been over that.”

“Before you are quick to scold the rest of the changes made, I implore you to imagine what it was like for Her Grace.”

Michael froze, eyeing Hunters with a raised brow. “Do not tell me you are defending the woman.”

“The first few months were quite bleak, your Grace,” Hunters continued. “I only ask you to keep that in mind as we discuss the changes done to the estate. To be alone, and away from one’s family, is a hardship for most.”

Michael watched the butler with narrowed eyes. It was not often that Hunters gave pity or kindness towards an outsider. Michael, who had Hunters by his side since he was a child, never saw the butler give someone such leeway. While a side of him was intrigued, eager to know what it was that made Hunters turn a blind eye towards the Duchess’s actions, Michael could not be rid of the gnawing irritation that festered in the back of his mind.

“I can make no promises, Hunters,” Michael finally said. “Though, I…appreciate your need for honesty.”

Hunters smirked. “Very well, your Grace.”

As Michael continued his long strides towards his chambers, trying his best not to gawk and exclaim at all the changes he saw, Hunters remained close to his side, pointing out everything the Duchess had already done.

“The tapestries,” Hunters started as they entered a hallway, “Throughout the entire estate have been reupholstered.”

Michael huffed. “What was wrong with the older ones?”

“In a cosmetic sense, they were growing painful to look at.”

“How so?”

“Peeling and fraying,” the butler replied. “And according to Her Grace, the colors were far too dull for the amount of natural light the estate gets.”

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, holding his tongue back. “Very well,” he snarled. “Continue on.”

“Each room has been refurbished, your Grace.”

“All of them?”

Hunters paused on their trek, pushing open a door to one of the studies. “Every last one, your Grace.”

Michael peered inside. Rooms that were once covered in white cloth to avoid gathering dust were now unrecognizable. Wooden desks and accents took up the room. Bookcases he had never seen lined the walls, full of leather bound books. A portrait of his father, one that he distinctly remembered being tucked away in one of the bedrooms, now hung over a mantelpiece, overlooking the entire study with a quizzical brow. Michael hung on to the painting’s stare for a moment before stepping back out of the room.

Michael glowered at the butler. “Anything else?”

As they kept marching down the hall, they passed by a few new staff members, each pausing to give Michael a bow before continuing on their way.

“You know of the newly hired staff,” Hunters said, “With Mrs. Bellflower and I being, just about, the only exceptions. And I suppose you have already seen the Duchess’s most recent additions.”

Hunters paused to gesture towards a window along their route. Michael leaned over. A quiet afternoon shower rolled by the estate, the rain just beginning to clear up as he looked outside. Directly below the window, Michael caught a glimpse of the restored gardens. Wooden fences kept the garden in one spot, rows of bright colors blooming along the edges. Hedges trimmed to perfection lined the fences. There was even an arched gate, vines twisted around to make it look like a fantastical garden.

“I’m sure you remember, your Grace, when the gardens were in their original glory.”

Michael stiffened slightly, pulling back from the window. “Yes,” he murmured. “I am well aware.”

“The late Duchess’s pride and joy has returned to the estate, in a way.”

“Anything else?” Michael snapped.

If Hunters was offended by him, he didn’t show it in the slightest. “Yes, your Grace.”

Michel glowered deeply.

“The most recent addition, which is still ongoing, is the orangery being erected beside the hedge maze.”

“Anorangery?”