Page 89 of The Legend of the Betrayed Duchess

“Of course, Miss Lucy,” he said going over to her.

“I am going to visit my friend, Isabell, and I do not know when I shall return. I most likely will not be here for lunch, and if you could inform his Grace, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Stevens nodded. “It would be my pleasure, Miss.”

It was a brisk morning and threatened snow, but she was not to be deterred as she hurried along the road toward her friend’s house. Before long, she arrived and almost ran the last little way to the front door.

“Lucy. Once again, you grace me with a surprise visit. How lovely to see you!”

Lucy burst into tears and threw her arms around Isabell as Chrissy looked on in astonishment at this outburst of emotion.

“Lucy…” Isabell purred as she held Lucy tightly close to her. “What? Tell me.”

Lucy pulled back, took a deep breath, and dried her eyes with the back of her hands.

“Are you upset about the Duke’s passing?” Isabell asked.

“Not that so much. But my world as I know it is being upended?”

“Oh, Lucy, how? Come let me make us some tea and tell me.”

Lucy sat on the sofa and took out a handkerchief as Chrissy came over and gave her leg a hug. That started Lucy crying again, and she held the child closely to her for a moment.

Isabell came with the tea tray as Lucy again dried her eyes and put on a brave smile.

After serving, Isabell sat next to Lucy and put her arm around her shoulders.

“Now then, what is the trouble, dearest friend?”

Lucy related the events of the last several days: the loss of her dowry, Mr. Goodwin’s attention to her at the funeral, and that unexpected kiss on the eyes.

“And what does all this mean for you?” Isabell asked after she sat for a moment contemplating all that Lucy had told her.

Lucy managed a chuckle. “And that is exactly why I am here. I have no idea. I want you to solve all my problems for me, show me the certain road to literary success, and select the perfect man for me to marry.”

“And that is all?” Isabell laughed. “Oh, my. If I could do that I should be Queen of England by now.”

“Isabell, do you mean to tell me I am going to have to figure out the answers all by myself?”

“Well, I still have a shoulder to cry on if that is any consolation.”

“You know, I do believe seeing youhashelped. Of course, I had no notion that you could give me answers, but just seeing your sweet smile and sharing a comforting cup of tea does do wonders. Thank you, dear friend.”

Chapter 32

The one thing George knew before his meeting with Harold was that it was going to take some time before Sir Cuthbert would be able to secure and sendThe Timesarticles. Yes, George could rush to judgement, but Harold had been too good a manager and yes, even a friend to the family to dismiss him out of hand.

“Your Grace,” Harold said as he found George in his studio cleaning brushes.

“Oh, Harold, do come in and take a seat. Sorry about the raggedy sofa, but this is my retreat and it is more for comfort than for show.”

Harold looked around the studio. “You know this is the first time I have been up here.”

“Really? I guess you have been taking care of business while I have taken care of just myself.”

“As is your right,” Harold said with no hint of censure in the comment. “And by the way, I do like your paintings very much. And you may or may not know this, but your father was very proud of your accomplishments. He spoke to me often of your success in London.”

“Thank you for telling me that. It means a lot.”