Page 8 of The Duke’s Sworn Spinster (A Duel and a Wedding #1)

Chapter Six

L ydia’s deep sleep was once again interrupted by a foreign noise. The creaking of the door as someone forced it open. However, Lydia was expecting a maid to come and wake her up, not a human cannon.

She yelped as a small body launched itself into her bed. She opened her eyes to find herself staring into the bright brown eyes of a little girl.

“Morning, Auntie.” The small child beamed at her, canting her head. “Are you awake?”

“I am now.” Lydia shifted beneath the child’s weight. “You must be Iris.”

“I am.” Iris grinned. “Do you like your room? It used to be Grandma’s, but Uncle says it’s yours now.

Auntie Cora called grandma a witch—but I never saw her do any magic.

Auntie Juliet said that was rude, so I suppose she must be right.

Oh, and sometimes I would sneak in and play dress up, and then Grandma’s face would go all purple and?—”

Lydia struggled to keep up with the child’s excited chatter and was trying to think of something to say when the door to the bedroom burst open.

“Iris!” a woman’s voice sounded from the door. “You can’t come in here without permission.”

“Uncle never minded when I came in here to play dress up.” Iris rolled off of Lydia as the woman made a grab for her. “Besides, I wanted to meet Auntie Lydia.”

“Sorry about this.” The woman scooped Iris into her arms. “I’m Juliet by the way.”

“Lydia. Nice to meet you, Juliet.” Lydia sat upright and blinked as sunlight filled the room—Iris had managed to wriggle out of Juliet’s arms and fling open the curtains.

Juliet was a pretty girl of about seventeen. Like her brother, she had black hair and warm amber eyes, but where his face was cold, handsome lines, hers was soft and open. The kind of beauty that men of the ton often seemed to fawn over. She has an open heart.

“Are you two making nuisances of yourselves already?” an amused voice asked from the door. “You’ll have to forgive my sister and my niece. I’m Cora. We missed you at dinner, Duchess.”

For a moment, Lydia thought she was looking at a pretty young man before she realized she was staring at a woman. She had short black hair and clever eyes. She was tall, even taller than Lydia, and moved with a loping grace that reminded her of a dancer. Eccentric.

“Please, call me Lydia. I… I would prefer not to be so formal.” She swung her legs out of bed and winced at the cold beneath her feet. “But don’t feel you need to leave on my account. I probably should have been up hours ago.”

“Archer thought it would be best to let you sleep,” Cora explained as Lydia slid her slippers onto her feet.

“It was all I could do to stop Iris breaking in here at the crack of dawn.” Juliet gave her niece an endearing smile.

“Dash left, and she always acts up when he leaves,” Cora whispered while Iris looked around the room.

“The Duke left?” Lydia tried and failed to keep the emotion from her voice.

Juliet smiled at her. “Don’t worry Duc— Lydia, he’ll be back by this evening.”

“He said he needed a ride to clear his head.” Cora shrugged. “And that he had meetings.”

Lydia nodded and walked into the walk-in closet, absently looking through the racks of dresses and trying to decide what she would wear.

“You do not have to do that, Du—- Lydia. Miss Sutton will be here shortly.” Juliet appeared looking puzzled.

“Miss Sutton?” Lydia’s brow creased.

“Your lady’s maid,” Cora explained. “She is probably who helped you get changed before bed last night.”

“Oh yes. Right.” Lydia’s cheeks flushed. “I… I am not used to having a lady’s maid.”

They probably think I am some horribly uncultured yokel. “Dash did mention your household had been running on less than optimal staff,” Juliet said diplomatically.

Lydia nodded but did not say anything further. At that moment, Iris popped her head out of the closet, wearing some of Lydia’s shoes and a bright purple hat that Lydia assumed must have been missed when the servants cleaned out the old duchess’ things.

“Iris!” Juliet exclaimed. “You cannot just put on someone else’s clothes without asking!”

“But this hat was Grandma’s, and she’s dead. I can’t ask her.” Iris pointed out.

“But those shoes are the Du— Lydia’s.” Cora gave her niece a stern look.

“Honestly, it’s quite all right. I don’t mind.” Lydia smiled at the little girl who beamed back. “Though it probably is better to ask—you never know when you might upset someone.”

Iris’ eyes widened. “Did I upset you?”

“No, I rather like sharing my things.” Lydia looked down at Iris and winked. “Besides, you look very lovely in those shoes.”

“Thank you.” Iris grinned.

“You’re lucky Lydia’s so nice, you little rascal.” Cora caught up Iris in her arms and tickled her, making the child squeal in delight.

“Put me down!” Iris kicked, the too big shoes flew off, and Lydia caught them which earned her an impressed look from Cora.

“Nice catch.” Cora put Iris down, and the little girl nodded her agreement.

“Thank you—call it growing up with a younger brother.” Lydia smiled at Cora, finding herself at ease in the other woman’s company.

Lydia looked around the room, her eyes taking in the garish décor that she had not really paid much attention to the day before.

Guilt stirred within her as she remembered how she had lied about the headache, not wanting to deal with the Duke’s sudden swing to coldness and fearing that his sister’s would be the same.

I need not have worried. Well, not about them at any rate.

A tray and cloche sat on an absurd-looking table made out of what looked like ivory. The sitting area was garish with crystal chandeliers and mismatching furniture that did not suit the style of the wallpaper or the rugs or the curtains.

“My mother liked expensive things.” Cora gestured around the room, the movement reminding Lydia so forcibly of Archer that it made her chest ache.

“Your brother mentioned as much. He did not seem particularly enamoured with the room.” Lydia thought about the way his lip had curled when they discussed the décor. “Did they not get along very well?”

“That is one way of putting it,” Juliet said with the air of someone trying to be as diplomatic as possible.

“Grandma was a miserable co—” Iris began, but Cora clapped a hand over her niece’s mouth.

“What Iris means is that my mother was a rather… difficult woman.”

Iris glared at Cora as her aunt released her, and Lydia stifled a giggle. “I was just saying what you always said about grandma.”

“And what have I told you about doing that in company?”

“But Aunties aren’t company, they’re family.” Iris’ eyes widened as she spotted something out of the window, and she hurried out of the room before anyone could stop her.

“Should we go after her?” Lydia asked.

“If she is not back in five minutes, yes. But until then, it is far better to let her tire herself out.” Cora leaned back in the chair, cursing when she couldn’t find a comfortable position.

“Iris seems rather delightful.” Lydia nodded her head towards the door.

“Our little, sparkling rainbow,” Juliet agreed.

“Pardon?” Lydia asked.

Juliet laughed. “Dash named her after the Greek goddess of rainbows.”

“Your brother named her?” Lydia frowned.

The two sisters exchanged a look, and Lydia had the sense they were debating whether or not to tell her something.

“You do not have to tell me, not if you do not want, but I know Iris is your oldest sister’s daughter and that she is dead now.”

“And it is my mother’s fault,” Cora growled, her eyes flashing with anger.

“Cora!” Juliet put a hand on her sister’s arm.

“Well, it is.” Cora looked at Lydia and then at her sister. “My mother was not a kind woman. Her only love was my father’s money. Well, that is not true—she also loved spending his money.”

“She did get us things sometimes,” Juliet amended, but her older sister was quick to bash that.

“Even when she did, it was to keep the ton from gossiping. Never to make us happy or consider what we wanted. I was dressed in frilly pastel dresses, full of bows and lacy nonsense, till I was eighteen!” She looked at Lydia now. “Can you believe that? With my complexion? It was a disaster.”

“I would be angrier about the frills,” Lydia responded without thinking though judging by how Cora’s posture relaxed, she suspected it was the right response.

“Anyway, you get the picture. My mother was selfish and entitled, and as far as she was concerned, our only purpose was to get married and get out of the house, so she could enjoy my father’s wealth without us for competition.

” Cora made a disgusted noise. “When Katherine debuted, a rakish marquess decided that he had to have her.”

“Didn’t your father do anything? No man would want his daughter married to a rake.” Lydia’s lip curled on the word.

Cora shook her head, “Sadly, our father’s opinion was dictated by mother’s influence, and he didn’t look into the Marquess’ behavior toward Katherine and readily agreed to the union.

When Katherine died in childbirth, and her snake of a husband abandoned her newborn babe on our doorstep, my father saw the truth of him, but by then, it was too late. ”

“We had told father for months that Katherine’s letters did not sound like her. We begged him to let us visit her.” Juliet’s eyes filled with tears.

“My father saw her body, covered in bruises from her husband.” Cora’s whole body shook. “We found out when he told us, deep in delirium one night. The guilt ate away at him. Within a year, he had died.”

“I can’t imagine what losing a sister would feel like. I’m sorry for your loss,” Lydia sympathized.

At that point Iris reappeared behind a servant who was carrying a tray laden with breakfast. The servant smiled at Lydia as she laid the tray down. “Does Your Grace wish to breakfast first, or shall I dress you?”

“Breakfast would be lovely, Miss Sutton.” Lydia smiled.

“Iris, what have we just said about asking?” Juliet’s voice was soft as Iris’s hand crept towards the apple on Lydia’s plate.

Iris blushed and looked at Lydia, smiling a smile that would have melted even the hardest of hearts. “Please Auntie Lydia, may I have your apple?”

“Of course, Iris.” Lydia handed it to the girl.

Lydia looked at her breakfast: a brioche and French bread stacked on her plate with a cup of steaming brown liquid to the side.

She took a sip, half expecting tea, but a bitter brew of coffee hit her tongue instead.

Tea was the only hot beverage consumed in the Nittinghill household now; coffee was far too expensive.

“Here.” Cora pushed a small canister of cream toward her. “It tastes better if you add a little milk or sugar to it.” Lydia took the cream gratefully.

Lydia thanked her, eating her breakfast as Juliet and Iris started a clapping game, laughing and teasing one another. Cora lounged on the sofa, watching the pair with a soft expression that tugged at her heart. The Duke may not want her, but it felt like his sisters did.

Perhaps that is enough.