Page 13 of Matters of a Duke’s Heart
“Duchess, this is Mr. Haversham, Bluebell Manor’s butler, and Mrs. Avery, our housekeeper. She has guarded Bluebell with an iron fist since before I was born.”
The woman did look somewhat aged, with smile lines around her mouth, and gray streaked through her hair.
“Mr. Haversham, Mrs. Avery, this is Her Grace, Felicity Dunne, the Duchess of Langdon. Do see to it that she has anything she requires. Is her lady’s maid ready to begin?”
“Indeed,” Mrs. Avery answered, while Felicity found herself still trying to process hearing her new surname vocalized for the first time. “Lottie is ready for Her Grace.”
Felicity’s head spun. Her Grace.
She kept her smile firm, feeling very out of herself, as she nodded again. “Thank you,” Felicity said, recalling her manners a beat too late. “It is lovely to meet you all.”
The rest of the staff were dismissed, save for the housekeeper, who lingered at a little boy’s side.
To Felicity’s surprise, Alexander Dunne didn’t resemble the duke a great deal.
His hair was lighter, perhaps inherited from his mother, and his eyes were not the icy blue of his father’s, but a soft brown.
“Alexander,” the duke said, his voice firm and strict, “this is the new Duchess of Langdon, Lady Felicity Dunne.” His words sounded awkward and out of place, as though he didn’t quite know how to introduce her.
Instead of the mischievous boy Felicity had heard about, she faced a boy who didn’t speak. He only peered up at her with soft, curious eyes as he huddled closer to Mrs. Avery.
On his other side, a stern-looking woman clamped a hand on his shoulder, and Felicity had the urge to tell her to remove it.
“This is Miss Nightingale,” the duke further introduced, gesturing at the woman. “Alexander’s governess.”
“It is nice to meet you, Your Grace.” Miss Nightingale dipped into a sharp curtsey. She was rather young for a governess, and even younger to look so stern.
“And yourself,” Felicity murmured. “I have heard you have quite a handful to deal with at times.”
The governess winced, nodding, as she glanced toward Alexander. “He is usually far louder. I am surprised.”
“Well,” Felicity began, softening her voice to address Alexander.
“I am certain all these changes are quite overwhelming.” He met her eyes again.
“I understand, Alexander. I will be present if you ever wish to speak about anything. I hear you are learning French? Perhaps you can tell me about it when you are ready.”
Alexander looked toward the duke and then nodded at Felicity.
Felicity straightened up, looking at the duke, who merely gazed down at his son, a pained expression on his face. As soon as he caught her looking, he smoothed it back into that stoic, unreadable look.
“See Her Grace settled,” the duke finally said, sighing. Without casting another glance at her, he retreated into the manor. Miss Nightingale ushered Alexander inside, notably going in a different direction than the duke, while Mrs. Avery approached Felicity.
“Come,” she offered gently. “I will see you to your chambers.”
Inside, she found a dark and very dreary manor. She had expected it to look magical; a place filled with so much splendor she would lose her words to describe it.
Yet most rooms were dark and covered in sheets, and curtains were drawn in many rooms ahead of night falling. So many dark colors surrounded her, and all she could perhaps was no wonder Alexander acts out so much.
If she was forced into a life of no color she, too, would not be the happiest person in the world.
In comparison to Merriweather House, Felicity couldn’t believe how gray it all was.
Even her own room was dark, smelling slightly of too much stale air, unused but clean.
Her lady’s maid, Lottie, greeted her with enough brightness to look at-odds with the room.
Felicity was immediately comforted by her.
“Good evening, Your Grace.” Lottie gave a deep curtsey.
“I have run you a bath already in case you wished to refresh after your journey out here. I have also prepared a gown for dinner for you. Heavens, you look positively lovely! It will be good to have another person in the manor. Things can get ever so quiet and —goodness, please excuse me. Mrs. Avery often says I speak too much.”
“I find it refreshing,” Felicity told her quickly. “And thank you for all of those things. I—I actually am rather nervous.”
“I have some relaxing Epsom salts I can put in the water for you.” With a bright smile, Lottie disappeared, and Felicity was left thinking how she reminded her a little of Daphne. Smiling sadly, she turned to look at her room. Like everything in the manor, it was dark and gloomy.
It didn’t bring her any comfort whatsoever. She already missed her bright room at Merriweather House. The flowers she always displayed fresh on her windowsill, plucked daily by a gardener, the pale rug, the carpet, and the bedsheets that always made her feel brighter.
She missed the flowers and the vines on her wallpaper. She missed color.
She sighed, sitting down on the edge of her new bed.
The sound of a hard thud came from the wall behind her, and she turned to look, startled. Lottie returned, glancing at the wall.
“I do not know if Mrs. Avery has taken you on a tour yet, but just in case, His Grace’s room is right next to yours.
” She nodded in the direction the noise had come from.
“It is, of course, customary for the duke and duchess’s rooms to be beside one another.
Now, would you like to prepare for your bath? ”
Felicity took a moment to stare at the wall in wonder. She ought to have expected it, but her nerves only grew.
Will he visit me in the night?
She couldn’t bear to think about that.
And besides, he had assured her he didn’t want more children. He had his heir; there was no physical requirement for Felicity, and she was not in a hurry to bear any children of her own.
Her body heated in embarrassment at the thought of him visiting her for any other means than simply creating a child—as if there would be enjoyment in such an act itself without an ulterior motive—and she tampered the thoughts down, tucked them away from sight, and forced the Duke of Langdon from her mind for a while.
She had the rest of her life to be nervous.
For now, she simply needed to relax in a tub and wash the day’s worries from her body.