Page 7 of His Stolen Duchess (Stolen by the Duke #7)
Chapter Five
“ C ome in,” Georgina called after a knock came at the door to her chambers.
A young woman walked hesitantly into the room. She had her head bowed, and meekness enveloped her. She reminded Georgina of Dottie, and a pang of sadness coursed through her chest.
“Good evening, Your Grace. I’m Bridget, your lady’s maid. I’ve been sent to check that everything is to your liking, and to inform you that supper is ready.”
Georgina looked around the bedchamber, which was much larger than what she was used to.
“The room is wonderful,” Georgina replied. “Thank you for checking up on me. Will you accompany me to the dining room? I don’t know exactly where everything is just yet.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” The maid hadn’t looked up once. “If you’d please follow me.”
For a brief second, Georgina glanced at the adjoining door between her chambers and the Duke’s before they left the room.
“Um, Your Grace,” the maid said as she walked half a step ahead of Georgina. “I have been instructed to lead you to the sitting room to dine.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, Mrs. Kettleworth thought you would be more comfortable there instead of alone in the dining room.”
Georgina felt a lump grow in her throat. “Yes, of course. I would not want to dine there all by myself. And the Duke?”
“His Grace is dining in his study,” Bridget replied. She quickly added, “He does that often. It is not only tonight that he has decided to do so.”
Georgina smiled at the maid’s attempt to soothe her.
In a way, she was relieved not to be dining with the Duke.
She’d already tried to make small talk with him during the coach ride, and he hadn’t been interested.
What would they talk about over supper? With the absence of conversation, she might as well dine alone.
“Just in here,” the maid said. “Everything is ready for you.”
Georgina entered the room to find a footman waiting with a cart. A plate was covered with a large metal dome, keeping the food inside warm. Her stomach began to rumble when she smelled the aroma coming from the hidden food.
“Venison, Your Grace,” the footman said. “With elderberry jelly and roasted potatoes.”
Georgina licked her lips and made her way to the small table by the window that had been set. She worried on her way over that the window would give her a view of the lake, but she still hadn’t oriented herself in the manor yet, and she saw an apple orchard beyond the glass.
The footman placed the plate before her, then began to wheel the cart toward the door.
“Wait!” Georgina called.
The footman stopped.
“No, sorry, Bridget,” Georgina called to the maid who was also leaving. “Will you sit with me and keep me company?”
Bridget hesitated. “Of course, Your Grace.”
“Ah, you must also be hungry.” Georgina turned her attention back to the footman. “Will you have the cook make up another plate of the same and bring it here for Bridget?”
The footman’s eyes widened, but he acquiesced. “Of course, Your Grace.”
“Your Grace, I couldn’t possibly—” Bridget began.
“I insist.” Georgina’s stomach rumbled some more, but she would wait a few more minutes. “I don’t wish to dine alone, and I certainly don’t wish for you to watch me eat if you are to keep me company.”
The footman left the room to find another plate of food, and Bridget made her way across to the table, pulling up another chair. She looked embarrassed to be there and glanced from time to time at the door.
“If the Duke does not like it, then it shall fall on my head, not yours.” Georgina hoped she could follow through on that. “Thank you for staying with me,” she added. “This is all very new to me, and I appreciate the company.”
“I’m at your disposal, Your Grace,” Bridget said.
“I’m not holding you here against your will, am I, Bridget?”
“No, not at all, Your Grace,” Bridget told her.
Georgina smiled and narrowed her eyes at her. “Would you tell me if you did feel that way?”
Bridget looked down at the table. “I… I…”
“I know you wouldn’t,” Georgina finished the sentence for her. “I only hope you’ll be comfortable enough with me to do so, one day.”
Bridget looked up momentarily and offered a small smile. Georgina smiled in return.
They sat in silence until the footman returned with a second plate of food, looking almost exactly like the first. He stood by the table with the plate in hand, hesitating as if it was some sort of test or practical joke, before placing the food before Bridget. He nodded toward Georgina and left.
“This is delicious, don’t you think so, Bridget?”
“Oh, Your Grace, I don’t believe I’ve eaten such a fine meal,” Bridget gushed.
“Wonderful! Please eat so I can, too.”
Without waiting, Georgina picked up her knife and fork and cut into the roast. She took a generous bite, letting the tender meat melt on her tongue, the sharpness of the accompanying jelly cutting through the richness.
For a moment, the heaviness she’d carried since arriving at the manor eased.
Across the table, the maid seemed equally enchanted with her meal.
Between bites, Georgina asked casually, “Is the Duke a good employer?”
It wasn’t a question she expected an honest answer to, for no servant would speak freely of their master, but she had little else to go on. She barely knew the man she’d married.
“Yes, of course,” Bridget answered without hesitation.
Georgina suppressed a sigh.
Of course.
Still, she pressed, spearing a potato with her fork. “How does he spend his days?”
Bridget’s reply was carefully polite. “I wouldn’t pry into His Grace’s affairs, but he keeps busy with estate matters. He’s fair. The household runs well, and he pays everyone properly.”
Georgina wasn’t sure whether to laugh or groan. The Duke seemed cold and distant most of the time, but when he’d pulled her out of that lake, and when they were alone in the carriage… he’d been different. As though he was hiding a part of himself.
She gave Bridget a faint, playful smile. “Is he always such a grump?”
The maid let out a surprised cough, nearly choking. She quickly covered her mouth and swallowed hard, her eyes widening. She clearly didn’t want to speak ill of the Duke, but was obviously being tempted.
“Some might say,” Bridget offered carefully. “That His Grace can be… stern. But only with those who deserve it.”
What a perfectly safe answer .
Georgina chuckled lightly. “I’m sure there are plenty who deserve it.”
Bridget grinned, relieved by the teasing tone, and returned to her meal.
Georgina let the matter rest. She didn’t want to make the girl uncomfortable, not on her first night here. The staff clearly respected their master, and it was obvious she wouldn’t get much gossip from them.
So, this is it. I’ll live in this grand house, alongside a husband I barely know, seeing him only when duty demands it.
“Your Grace… Bridget? What are you doing?”
Both women turned to the door, where Mrs. Kettleworth stood, ever watchful.
“I asked Bridget to dine with me this evening,” Georgina said smoothly before the housekeeper could object. “She’s been excellent company.”
Mrs. Kettleworth’s expression barely shifted. “I’m glad to hear it, Your Grace.” Then she addressed the maid. “Bridget, see to the clearing of the table. No need to summon the footman.”
Bridget rose at once, gathering the dishes and offering Georgina a quick curtsy before slipping away.
Mrs. Kettleworth remained, her hands folded. “Your Grace, we should speak of your duties within the household.”
Georgina straightened in her chair, trying to mask her uncertainty. “Of course.”
“You’ll oversee the household accounts and all correspondence,” the housekeeper said. “And you’ll be expected to receive any visitors to the estate.”
Georgina nodded, her thoughts already turning. Correspondence —that meant letters from home, and perhaps from Dottie.
“Are there many visitors?” she asked.
“Not often,” Mrs. Kettleworth admitted. “But on occasion.”
The admission only deepened Georgina’s sense of isolation, but it also sparked something else. Perhaps she could change that, in time.
I must be cautious . I can’t go rearranging everything the moment after I arrive.
Still, the idea of filling the empty halls with friends and familiar faces gave her a small sense of purpose.
“And letters sent to my previous residence?” she asked.
“They’ll be forwarded here, naturally.”
Georgina gave a quiet nod. She was relieved to have escaped Lord Abbington, but even more relieved that she had learned the truth about him in time. Dottie had been the one to warn her, and Georgina was still awaiting word that her maid had safely found her way elsewhere.
Until that letter arrived, she would have to be patient… and clever.
Wherever you are, Dottie… I hope you’re safe.