Page 6 of My Blind Duke (The Twisted Dukes #5)
“ E verything here is such a damn mess.”
William sat back in the leather-bound chair, sick of the sound of rustling papers. His steward halted his reading, clearly noting that the duke was no longer in the mood to hear him state the absolute horrors that consisted of the estate’s affairs.
They had been at it for days now and were still no closer to solving many underlying issues – with Robert reading the documents and sorting them out into different organized heaps according to William’s direction. Each heap was meant to signify the type of problem they were dealing with and the order in which they would be dealt with. It was irritating that they had made nearly no progress, as it seemed that everything had been left to run itself since the late duke’s passing.
William still could not figure out why the solicitor had not taken charge – or at least encouraged the duchess to be more involved in the state of the estate.
He could not blame her for being unable to do so, considering that her servants had not thought much of her to begin with.
Shaking his head, he ran his hands over his tired face before raising his gaze to the ceiling. All he could see were misshapen blurs that gave his mind the allowance it needed to wander. Lately, there was a problem that had plagued him night and day.
Lady Prudence…
The feeling of her soft, smooth skin beneath his hands lingered at the forefront of his mind far too regularly for his taste. And it seemed that he had also committed to memory each shudder and shiver that had wrought through her body during that unusual exchange. He could still hear her gasps of surprise in his dreams, and they filled him with a need he had not known in far too long.
This is not what I came here for , he told himself time and time again. He had no time to be distracted by some cheeky woman who did not seem to know what was good for her. William had so much to do – much more than he expected if he was to turn this place into a proper home for Melanie.
Although they did not get along most of the time and she was rather intent on destroying his peace – and sometimes his will to live – his daughter was still the most important person in his life. She was all he had left that mattered to him and he had long since promised to provide her with the best life he possibly could.
Therefore, it was only problematic to allow a troublesome woman to extend her reach so far into his mind.
I need to get it together.
With a grunt, William rose to his feet and stretched his arms above his head, nodding in satisfaction when he heard a few pops at his back. When he turned back to his desk, he noticed the shadow that had been present on the other side of it was gone.
“Robert? Are you still here?” William blinked a few times, glancing around the room to see if he could spot his steward’s form.
“Yes, I am, Your Grace. My apologies, I was distracted by something out in the gardens.” The steward hurried forward, the rustling of a few pieces of parchment on the desk telling the duke he had begun to tidy up. “Would you like some tea? I believe you require a much-needed break.”
Over the years, the man had been a loyal asset to the duke, making up for the failings of William’s vision while remaining by his side. He was eternally grateful that he had followed him here all the way from New England.
“What were you distracted by?” William cleared his throat, absentmindedly thinking that he might need something much stronger than tea to get through the mess that awaited his unfortunate arrival.
The man seemed to hesitate at first, shuffling a stack of documents. “Lady Melanie, Your Grace. She appears to be playing down in the gardens near the pond.”
A sickening feeling took over the pit of his stomach as William recalled the medley of scales that had been in his soup.
“I hope she is not up to something again,” he grumbled under his breath before pushing the memory aside.
“Oh, I do not think we have to worry about that, Your Grace. She seems to be in good company this morning.”
“Oh? And what company might that be?” William arched a brow before making his way over to the window and staring out over the lush green shapes of the gardens.
It was too far for him to make out any discernible figures, but he could at least picture his daughter playing if his steward described it to him.
“She is being accompanied by the duchess, Your Grace. They were playing by the pond before calling for tea beneath the oak in the middle of the rose garden,” Robert added as much description as he could.
Perhaps if it had been someone else, the duke might have felt slightly more inclined to be relieved that his daughter not only had company but whoever it was had managed to keep her out of trouble.
But for some reason, hearing that it was the duchess who was frolicking around the estate grounds with his child lit a fuse of unease within him.
“Why are they together? Have you heard anything about the duchess pursuing Melanie’s attention?” William queried, trying to keep his voice even.
“Not to my knowledge, Your Grace,” Robert said, his tone betraying the confusion he undoubtedly felt at the questions he had been asked. “Lady Melanie has been as… elusive as ever, whenever she is questioned. But other than that, she has mostly kept to herself as she did at her former home. This is actually the first time I am seeing Her Grace and my lady together.”
Willaim’s frown deepened.
What could the duchess be playing at? Did she perhaps wish to worm her way into Melanie’s heart so his daughter would advocate for her presence in the house? Or did she have something more nefarious up her sleeve?
“What are they doing now?”
Robert paused, likely studying the scene below.
“Just… drinking tea and talking, Your Grace. Although, it seems as though the young lady likes their topic of discussion. I do not think I have seen her smile that wildly in a long while.”
Melanie was smiling. Not with him, but with some stranger she had only met a few days ago.
It was not as though the duke had not tried to bond with his daughter. It was not as though he intended to leave her alone most of the time. They just… never seemed to get along. And it was obvious to him that Melanie resented him for what happened to her mother if her silly tricks were anything to go by. She clearly had no respect for him, much less affection.
William could only wonder what Prudence had said or done to get into her good graces so quickly.
“I see,” William stated quietly as he turned away from the window and returned to his desk.
He had barely settled into his chair when a knock sounded at the door. The duke waved his steward in its direction and he heard the measured footfalls of Robert’s walk to the door and the sound of it falling open.
“It is Jefferson, Your Grace,” Robert announced.
William could barely hold back a sigh, hoping the butler was not here to give any bad news. Any more complaints and he might consider leaving this estate to drown to its demise, as it was seemingly meant to be, its inhabitants be damned.
“Let him in,” William reluctantly instructed, wholly prepared to dismiss any foolishness that might want to take place at that moment.
There were more sounds of footsteps, one a tad hesitant than the other and it made William sigh in irritation.
“What is it?” he barked.
Jefferson squeaked, and it was all William could do to roll his eyes.
He did not like the butler one bit, immediately displeased with his irresponsibility – not just toward the estate, but also toward the duchess.
Even if all the other staff members had chosen to behave so childishly, the butler of all people should have stood as the voice of reason and reminded them of their place. Instead, he went along with whatever he felt like and grew far too comfortable being complacent.
As such, he had not even received the duke when he first arrived at the estate. William could forgive several offenses, but Jefferson seemed to have far too many to be dismissed.
“The… The Marquess of Montclair has arrived to see you, Your Grace.” The butler swallowed hard before taking a deep breath.
The Marquess of Montclair? Wiliam took a moment to rake through his mind to see if he could recall ever meeting or even hearing of such a person, only to come up empty.
Eventually, his curiosity to find out who it was won out and he nodded to the butler to let the man in.
As Jefferson went to retrieve the guest, William composed himself and lifted his head high. It was always a daunting task meeting anyone new. He did not have the luxury of sizing a man up on sight alone like he did in the past.
“Your Grace, I apologize for the intrusion. I would have sent a note announcing my intention to visit, but I thought it better to come unannounced, given the circumstances,” The Marquess of Montclair sounded confident as his voice drew nearer the desk.
“The circumstances?” William echoed, narrowing his eyes slightly to focus as the man’s form came into view in front of the desk.
He could tell that the man was at least a head shorter than William, yet his voice was deep and strong.
“I am Hugo Rath, Marquess of Montclair. I was a friend to the late Duke of Pemberly – rest his soul.”
William noticed the man extended an arm and reached out with his right hand, trying not to flinch when he nearly missed.
“William Wordsworth, the new Duke of Pemberly.” William shook the man’s hand firmly, noting the mop of light brown hair through the haze of his vision. “You mentioned something about the circumstances? What did you mean?”
The marquess retracted his hand before speaking up again, his voice slightly hushed this time. “I was hoping that we could have a word in private?”
William thought the request a bit peculiar but decided to humor the man as they had only just met. Nodding for the others to leave, he gestured for the man to take a seat.
“I would like to apologize, once more. I am well aware that it does not look good for one to be presumptuous and you are wondering why I have barged in like this, Your Grace. I can assure you that I am no meddler, nor am I a peddler of gossip. What I have to tell you will be of vital importance to you.”
“Go on…” William sat back in his chair, trying to gauge what this could be about by the severity of the man’s tone.
William had learned how to decipher fact from fiction after the loss of his vision a while ago. He had come to learn that his weakness gave many the impression that they could fool him easily. Which was why he did not attempt to share that information if he could help it.
Whatever it was that had this man believe it was important enough to warrant an in-person meeting, he certainly believed it. So perhaps it was worth listening to.
“I did mention that I was a friend of the former duke. What I did not wish to mention in front of your staff is that I am also aware of how he died…” The man’s voice seemed to thicken, and a hint of anger mingled with the syllables.
“Was it not a weak heart? At least this is what the solicitor told me when I received the news of my new position,” William admitted almost begrudgingly, irritated as to why someone claiming to be aware of the true nature of the former duke’s death would not have sorted such an issue out in the year that followed his passing.
He had not wanted to be a duke. His parents had always been proud of the fact that their distant relation was the Duke of Pemberly, but William had never particularly cared for it. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that the title would ever pass to him.
Now that he had the title though, he was determined to make the most of it. At least for Melanie’s sake. All this stirring of sand that had long since settled was not worth his time or strength.
Leaning forward in his chair, the marquess lowered his voice. “Did the solicitor happen to mention where he was found?”
William reached the end of his rope at yet another lure into coaxing an answer from the marquess and snapped.
“I suspect that there is something that you wish to tell me. I must inform you that I am not a patient man. You had better get to the point,” William growled, having never taken a liking to theatrics or gossip.
The marquess seemed taken aback by his abrupt response but continued, nonetheless. “What I am trying to say, Your Grace, is that the late duke was murdered. You seem like an intelligent man, so I shall not beat around the bush. The duke was found dead in his wife’s bed before the marriage was even consummated – or so I have been told by sources close to the duchess. Everyone calls her the Black Widow .”
To say that the news shocked William would be grossly understated. The duchess did not strike him as the type to want a man dead in her bed. He had heard that the circumstances around the late duke’s passing had been strange, but he did not expect it to be so odd.
“Furthermore, I have been keeping a close eye on her since the funeral. Rumors of wild parties and even orgies have been circulating,” the marquess announced determinedly as if his words had placed the final nail in the coffin.
Wild parties? Orgies?
William could scarcely believe his ears. The woman whose bedroom he had walked into bore no resemblance to a woman familiar with promiscuity. She had been ready to scream the roof off the estate when she believed he had gotten a good look at her bare state.
But then, that situation did seem rather odd. She had been naked when he found her and claimed that she was about to take a bath. At such a late hour? After a party, no less. Had she entertained a lover before that?
He did not know her, and now he was hearing that she possibly lived a much more untrustworthy life than he had thought.
“Are you certain? I do not know if you have met the woman, Lord Montclair, but I am finding it hard to believe you have the right suspect. You say you have heard of these rumors, who is to say that they are not just that?” William felt the need to ask, as he could not reconcile the thought of the Prudence he had met with the caricature the man before him was trying to paint.
Shifting forward in his seat, the marquess came closer to the desk. “I understand your concern and mistrust, Your Grace. You have only just met me, and if I were in your shoes, I would proceed with caution as well. But I know that my friend was poisoned. And he died in her arms.”
William folded his arms, not fond of the way the man before him was so sure of what he was saying. “What is it that you hope to gain by telling me this information?”
A moment of loaded silence filled the air before the marquess spoke again, his voice filled with passion and anger. “In an attempt to merely be friendly, I wish to give an innocent man time to get rid of a problem before it is too late.”
“And personally?” William raised his eyebrows now as he waited for the man to speak.
“Justice. I want justice for my friend. Whether it comes in with the removal of that woman from this house without a penny to her name or the rest of her life spent locked away in a cold cell… I have no preference for either. All I need is for her to pay for her crime,” Hugo stated, his voice dripping with bitterness.
It became obvious then that Hugo Rath was not a man seeking to ruin a woman he disliked or even one that had thrown him over. He was simply seeking justice for his friend.
“I know I may come off as harsh, Your Grace, but Anthony was a good man. He did not deserve to die in the way that he did. I would hate to see another man succumb to the temptations of that harlot,” he spat the words bitterly as if he could taste the poison they implied.
William reached back to rub at his stiff neck, his muscles sore from sitting all day as he pondered the possibility of what Hugo had said being a reality.
Could it be that she murdered her own husband?
It certainly called for a closer look at what was going on under his roof, especially now that the duchess had somehow gotten Melanie to spend time with her. William had never liked to gamble with fate.
But his mind was still plagued with doubts that the truth was as clear cut as the marquess believed. Nothing he had seen in the duchess’ behavior fit the description of the harlot that the marquess was working hard to sell.
He could not deny that such rumors had made their way to his ears, but he was not in the habit of trusting rumors circulating the ton. The situation was streaked with conflicting and confusing opinions and assumptions.
“What do you need from me, then?” William finally asked Lord Montclair.
“I only need you to find out the truth. I have done my best to gain credible evidence of her plots but I am not a member of the household. However, if someone on the inside were to raise questions, I know we would find the answers we seek soon. If you find it hard to believe, I would suggest that you ask the servants. The duchess never loved Anthony. I was hoping that she would at least learn to love him, but I could see that her affections never grew beyond the realm of fondness for his riches.”
The servants’ disdain for their mistress suddenly seemed to make sense to him as he recalled the state of the house upon his arrival. Perhaps the rumors of wild parties and orgies were true after all. Yet he still could not imagine Prudence participating in something so grotesque.
“Thank you, Lord Montclair, for your honesty. It takes a brave and honest man to come and be so open with a stranger. I will take your words under advisement.” William nodded as he rose to his feet.
Taking the cue, the marquess stood and offered his hand, making sure that it was firmly in William’s grip this time. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. I hope you do take my words seriously, but if nothing else, I am glad that Pemberly Hall is in such capable hands.”
Shaking his hand firmly, William nodded once more.
The marquess did not seem like a madman to him or even one with an ulterior motive, but it was rather difficult to put any weight on his words.
Especially when he recalled the way Prudence had reacted to his touch. Her shivering… and she was quick to put distance between them as quickly as she could. Would a seductress that had everyone chattering about her skills be so… malleable?
Subconsciously, William’s thoughts strayed from how her body had shaken in his grasp to the smooth and soft feel of her skin. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since he had been in such a… position, but it seemed as though that unexpected interaction had set his veins and loins aflame. And that was a needless, not to mention dangerous distraction he could not afford to have lingering around him.
In any case… Even if the rumors regarding Prudence were not true, he needed to have her out from under his feet. She presented him with a temptation that was almost too delectable to resist.
I need her out of here and far away from me. Before she destroys everything I am trying to build.