Page 13 of His Unexpected Duchess (Hearts of Whitmores #2)

CHAPTER 13

J oanna slumped at the dining table two nights after her horrendous attempt at driving through London. It wasn’t the ride that bothered her, but the sight of a chocolate torte at the center of the table.

Her favorite dessert.

She was lucky to enjoy these once a year in her father’s household. But now she’d had them twice over the last couple of days. If she didn’t know how this had happened, she would have been thrilled.

“I’m very glad to serve it,” the cook had told her the previous evening after she had expressed her gratitude and eagerness for such a delightful addition to their meal. Not that Nicholas was there. It was, as usual, just her and Eleanor. “I wish you had told me sooner how much you love it.”

“I only told our housekeeper,” she had admitted. “Did you two speak with one another about this?”

The cook had beamed. “No. In fact, it was His Grace. He informed me that it was your favorite dessert and that we must serve it tonight.”

And so it had been served, and it had been delicious. The second one for the following evening was just as delicious. However, Joanna was having a difficult time enjoying it after knowing the source of her little pleasure.

If Nicholas told the cook, then he must have spoken to the housekeeper. Or Eleanor. Though I’m not sure she would reveal something like that right now. She’s been very quiet.

In fact, Eleanor had hardly spent any time with her since Joanna had returned from her ride. Her sister-in-law had found her in her rooms shortly after she had returned, worried and pale. A physician had been called for her blistered hands. After Eleanor had seen to that, she had kept to her room except for morning tea and supper.

Glancing at her now, Joanna tried to think of something to say. The younger woman was nibbling on her dessert with such concentration that Joanna wondered if she would even hear anything.

I would like very much to speak with her about Nicholas. And yet… How can I? She is his sister. She will take his side. They wouldn’t understand me. I hardly understand myself. I had no right to be so rude yesterday.

Every time she thought about it, Joanna blushed with embarrassment. Her behavior had been ghastly. Childish. Far from proper. And very much far from the wife that she had promised to be. Likely, Nicholas would ship her off to a distant property to get rid of her and help London forget any scandal she might have caused.

The following morning, Joanna once again checked the newspapers and gossip rags for any mention of her little adventure. She recalled people calling her all sorts of names. Someone must have written about it. But there wasn’t a note anywhere about a madwoman disturbing traffic.

Impossible. Something must have been written. The only way it wouldn’t be noticed is if someone didn’t notice. But I was right there in the middle… Someone must have seen it or heard about it, and written something about it. They only would refrain from writing anything if…

The truth made her wince. Nicholas must have done something to prevent the world from reading about her erratic behavior.

It was another reminder that she must make amends.

Joanna set about doing that at once. Smoothing her dress, she left the small dining room in the hopes of finding her husband somewhere in the house. But within the hour, she learned that he was already gone.

“Should he come home at a decent hour,” she asked Wordlesby politely, “can you please ask him to find me so we might speak?”

“Certainly, Your Grace. Is everything well?”

The butler looked at her with such concern that her cheeks flushed. The fact that he had doubled the staff in the past few days so that someone was always available to help her should she need anything had not gone unnoticed. He glanced down at her bandaged hands.

Hiding her hands behind her back, she nodded and forced a smile. “Very well, thank you.”

Joanna didn’t quite know what else to do with herself. She painstakingly wrote a short note of gratitude, as manners dictated, and sent it to her stepmother. It had been terrible, but the note was sent off all the same.

For the rest of the day, Joanna decided to make herself useful in whatever way she could. Eleanor had helped manage the house quite a bit, but it was time that Joanna learned how to be the Duchess she had promised to become. She had hired more servants, but she still had so much left to do.

The servants were curious about her increased interest, but they enthusiastically took to her. She listened to their concerns and had the many improvements she could make to the house written out before the day was out.

And yet Nicholas never appeared.

When he didn’t show up the following day either, Joanna spent her time sorting through their correspondence. Though she had hoped to attend a few social events that week, it didn’t seem possible any longer, so she sent her regrets.

It was all coming together, she thought at the end of that day. She was learning the house and the servants better. There were new responsibilities on her plate, new sets of keys for her to carry, and a sense of pride in her accomplishments.

Unfortunately, it all fell to pieces when she learned just how many properties she needed to learn about as well.

She had sat down in a small study across from her husband’s. It had been set up for her, cleared out but for items and papers and folders that she would need. It was cozy, with a small fireplace and tall windows that allowed in the natural light, and it was clean and well-scented with lemon.

But as she sat with fourteen different folders, she could only sniff and paw at her gown for a handkerchief as the tears threatened to fall.

“Joanna?” She looked up to find Eleanor standing in the doorway. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” She sniffed loudly. “No, all is well.”

Eleanor did not hesitate. “If all is well, then you would not be in tears. What is it? Shall I send for the physician again?”

“No, no, I will be fine. I only… I fear I’m rather overwhelmed,” Joanna admitted, much to her shame. “Everything has been going so well. I wished to learn how to manage the other properties. But there are fourteen! Who has fourteen estates?”

“Ah.” Eleanor walked further into the study and took a seat. “It is rather much, is it not? But I assure you, these estates do run well most of the time. And Nicholas has worked hard to maintain them.”

Joanna dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief and let out a shaky sigh. “It is so much. I never expected…” She couldn’t finish—she had too many things to say.

Eleanor nodded, a sympathetic look on her face. She rose from her seat to comfort her. “It is so much. Don’t fret, Joanna. You’re doing well here. It has been something of a relief to not be bothered about menus and gardens every day now that you are here. We’ll start where we are at. When you are ready, we shall look at the other estates. Between my brother and I, I’m sure we will manage well.”

“Thank you,” Joanna whispered. She tucked her handkerchief away and forced a smile. “I’m being maudlin, I know. Thank you for your kind words. I fear I have been out of sorts for a while… But is all well with you?”

“Yes. As well as they can be. I find myself wishing for some music, but at the moment, I cannot bear to play.”

“Then I shall play for you.” Joanna rose from her seat. “And while you turn the pages for me, you can tell me about these estates.”

It was a fine trade that Eleanor accepted with ease. Any uncertainty between them in the past couple of days evaporated as the two of them sat at the piano, Joanna playing while Eleanor spoke softly. The afternoon passed with ease. Until a knock sounded at the door.

Both of them froze as Nicholas poked his head inside. He blinked several times at the sight of them before he nodded. “Ladies.”

“Your Grace,” Joanna murmured.

“Brother,” Eleanor said.

Rising to her feet, Joanna supposed this was the best opportunity she might get. She could apologize to her husband and Eleanor at once for her earlier behavior.

“Your Grace, might we speak?”

“I would like that, but I’m on a schedule and must speak with my sister. Eleanor?”

“Er, yes, I suppose.” Eleanor glanced at Joanna with a surprised expression, though neither of them said another word.

The young woman hastened out of the music room, leaving Joanna alone.

Though she waited for a chance to speak with him as well, neither of them returned.

Feeling forgotten, Joanna tried to reassure herself that it was perfectly acceptable because that was how she had preferred her previous life. Why should this one be any different?

She staggered through her piano playing. And at supper, she wondered at yet another chocolate torte.