Page 49

The fire in the room had gone dim, and Richard stared at the poor excuse of a heat source. His room was colder with the coals burned down, and he knew in the back of his mind that he should call for a maid to come to relight it.

But he didn’t.

He just stared at the wavering air above the logs as he sat perched on the end of his bed. Richard had told Amelia that he was leaving. He’d planned what to say to her, stayed up all through the evening after carrying her back to her bed, and he’d said none of the things he wanted to.

Why hadn’t he said what he’d practiced?

There were words that assured her he was leaving so that she might return to her life of freedom. There were words he would have used to ensure she knew he would not interfere with her lifegoing forward. And still, Richard had said none of them. He’d barely spoken at all.

It was unclear how long he sat there, watching the orange glow of the logs get weaker and weaker. But at some point, Richard stood up from his bed and called out for Edward, requesting his assistance and a bit of wood so that he wouldn’t freeze during the cool London evening. However, the thought of succumbing to a frigid slumber didn’t bother him nearly as much as it should.

Stepping back into his room, Richard walked over to the wardrobe, standing in front of the twin panels that opened in the middle.

I need to get changed. I cannot sleep in my attire.

The thought was there, but his body did not move. A few minutes later, Edward entered his bedroom with a maid following behind. Cynthia, her name was Cynthia, and she placed her bundle of logs on the fire and encouraged the flames once more.

“Your Grace?” Edward spoke, and Richard shook his head slightly as he returned his attention to him. “Is that acceptable?”

He didn’t know what his valet was referring to. Richard had completely missed whatever Edward had said as the twister of thoughts claimed his focus.

Looking to his valet, Richard put forth a pained smile. “I’m sorry, would you repeat that? I was…distracted.”

Edward came closer to him, reaching for the lapels of Richard’s deep gray waistcoat as he stood behind the Duke.

“I only asked if you would like your evening’s tea and repast brought up to your chambers for the evening.”

Richard nodded. “Yes, that’s…Yes, thank you.”

His valet assisted Richard with stripping the garment from his arms, removing his watch and fob items from where they were held by a chain to the bottom of the waistcoat. He placed it over the back of a chair where the items of his dress would all be collected before Edward deposited them in the basket for washing.

He’d seen the man do the same thing time and again, but Richard watched without blinking as Edward folded the coat gently, acting as if the fabric was delicate enough to tear from simply handling it.

“You are so careful with it.”

Edward looked up from lying the waistcoat down, offering Richard a humble smile.

“Of course, Your Grace. I would hate to mar any item of yours because of carelessness.”

Tension pulled at Richard’s temples, and he saw the image of his father wielding a cane in his mind’s eye. He had been young,still frail, and had dropped an inkpot on one of the man’s shirts. Richard held the scars of that punishment on his back.

“I hope you do not think I would harm you for something as simple as an accident.”

Edward’s wide eyes met Richards, and as the man’s brow furrowed, a crease forming between the two dark slashes over his eyes, his valet shook his head. A look of indignation crossed over Edward’s expression before he put a hand to his chest and bowed his head.

“You have never given Amelia any cause to believe that I would be mistreated, Your Grace. You are a kind and steadfast head of the household.”

Richard nodded, the discomfort of the compliment sitting on his skin like grease. “You have served Amelia for some time now.”

Nodding, Edward returned to Richard’s side, helping the Duke pull off his Hessians, leaving them by the door for the following morning. He was given slippers to keep from standing on the floor in his bare feet, and Richard thanked Edward as he always did.

The valet continued to assist Richard with shucking the other layers of his attire, starting next with his cravat and quizzing glass that hung around his neck from a thin chain.

“Coming up on twelve years, Your Grace. I have been with you since before your marriage when you were but a young man.”

The Duke hummed to himself, his eyes focused only on the floor at his feet. As much as he knew that Edward had helped him to get undressed, in fact, Richard was acutely aware that each layer had been handled with the utmost care; the act of undressing was a blur in his mind. It was as if he had traveled somewhere else and suddenly arrived at his destination.

“We will be returning to Blackford shortly. It is to my permanent residence once more.”