Page 23 of Her Beast of a Duke

“He was right,” she quietly agreed. “I have often enjoyed watching sunsets.”

“You will be able to see plenty of such things with the landscape here.”

Indeed, Isabella drew to the window, looking out at the sweeping countryside. In the near distance, she could see low roofs that suggested Rochdale Village was not far at all.

She smiled to herself. Anywhere could be a nightmare come to life, but if there was a pleasant enough view, then it became bearable.

A soft whisper of footsteps had her turning to find a blonde-haired woman dressed in a maid’s uniform, who curtsied to her.

“Your Grace, this is Emily. She will be your lady’s maid. Should you need anything, call upon her. For anything regarding the estate, do find me. I will never be far. Once you are bathed and prepared, I will return to give you a tour of the estate.”

Isabella nodded at the housekeeper before Mrs. Tisdale departed.

Left only with Emily, whose freckled face reminded Isabella of Hermia, in a way—a small, strange comfort—Isabella allowed herself to exhale and breathe easier than she had in the longest time.

“I have prepared you a bath, Your Grace,” Emily invited, gesturing to the adjoining bathroom. However, Isabella’s attention was caught by the dark wooden door near her bed.

“Where does this lead?” she asked, curious enough to draw near to the door. Her fingers ghosted over the doorknob.

“It connects your room to His Grace’s,” Emily told her, and Isabella immediately retracted her hand. “For privacy, for… well, for whatever you please.”

Enough was suggested by the comment, and Isabella put more space between herself and the door.

“Thank you, Emily. I think I shall have that bath now,” she said, smiling tightly, trying her best to ignore the sort of privacy the door would allow in normal circumstances.

Chapter Five

“Icannot go in there?” Isabella asked.

On her tour of the endless dark hallways, Isabella found more open doors than she expected.

She did not know why she thought more rooms would be locked, but she couldn’t imagine the Duke perusing the parlor or even the drawing room. His study was indicated to her by Mrs. Tisdale, but it was locked.

“Not without permission,” Mrs. Tisdale told her. “His Grace is very serious about the business he conducts.”

“I see.” Isabella frowned. “Are there any other rooms that are…” She paused right as she saw another door that was closed. “Where does this lead?”

They were in the northern wing, and her curiosity only grew. A padlock hung on the door, only piquing her interest further.

“This is the door to the northern turret,” Mrs. Tisdale explained. “Only His Grace is allowed through there.”

“How come?”

“Your Grace,” the housekeeper said in tight warning. “I… it is not for me to say.”

“But you must know,” Isabella pushed.

“I do, but it is His Grace’s story to tell. For now, please respect the locked door.”

“Will he allow me through there himself?”

“I do not think so.”

“What if I ask nicely?”

Isabella meant it as a tease, but Mrs. Tisdale only gave a dry, unsure laugh before leading her onward.

Her thoughts didn’t leave that locked door, not even as Mrs. Tisdale showed her the music room, which was rather impressive, or the library. The sunroom was pointed out to her, as was the morning room, where Mrs. Tisdale recommended conducting embroidery after breakfast on any day, if Isabella so wished.