by Alison Charm
“Duke Kensington!” Irene’s voice warned her just in time and Crystal ducked her head low and curtsied as her employer walked by with his head hidden behind the paper. Her eyes followed the man’s broad back and narrow waist. Her mind and body transformed over the years as she grown into a woman. A servant’s life was not particularly exciting so there was time for her to ogle at her employer. Not a single male servant could ever be compared to the handsome duke. He was the epitome of his sex. She had never met anyone, her brother included (not that she would say such a thing aloud!), as handsome and intelligent as his grace. His dark good looks were rakish, yet his reputation as a gentleman preceded him. His silver gray eyes were hypnotizing. Not that she had any experience staring into them but if sneaky glances under her eyelashes were already enough to make her knees weak then it was obvious a direct look would be fatal.
As a maid living under Kensington House she was able to ogle at the man to her satisfaction. Most of her knowledge came from observations and listening to the maids’ gossip. The things maids say when behind closed doors were scandalous to say the least. Mrs. Timmons tried to protect her sensibilities but alas, curiosity and secrecy of their situation prevented that. Crystal now absorbed enough information to render a debutante to faint from blushing!
“You are quite late, Bev.” Mrs. Timmons turned back her head to regard the soup, lunch’s preparation Crystal presumed. Crystal had taken on a new pseudonym, Beverly Timmons, Bev for short. Naturally, Kensington would never hire her if she came as Crystal Clarington, the murderer of his beloved wife.
“Lots of clothes.” Crystal rotated her shoulders and massaged her arms. Her duties over the years gave her muscles and toughened her body. Still, she had daily muscle cramps and various aches, especially the heart.
Mrs. Timmons clicked her tongue and got out a small jar of lotion from the kitchen drawer. No one dared to touch the cook’s sanctuary knowing that she manned the food. A little ‘spice’ here or there would be none the wiser. Instinctively, they knew never to mess with the person who might tamper their food. Now Mrs. Timmons controlled everything in the kitchen due to her superb skills in cooking.
“Sit down.” Mrs. Timmons sighed. Crystal looked around to make sure no one was coming before resting her legs on the stool. Her body relaxed, thankful for the short reprieve. “Bev, perhaps it is time to leave?”
“Shh!” Bev turned and waited, as if someone would jump out and declare her an imposter. “We’ve talked about this. We can’t leave yet, not until-”
“His grace is fine. He looks stronger and stronger as the day goes by. He does not need us no more.”
Crystal’s heart dropped like a heavy stone weighted her down. It was true, his colouring returned to his original shade and he never drank until he was unconscious. He would practically throw out his wine cabinet if it were not necessary for entertaining guests.
Could she leave though? If she was true to her heart, she would have confided her nanny and housekeeper that she was in love. Irrevocably in love with the one man she never should! She scoffed at the absurdity of her situation and her doomed love that would never see the light of day. His grace certainly would not be ecstatic over being admired by his self-declared nemesis.
“Not until he’s happily settled.” Crystal massaged her hands unconsciously. The idea sounded like an irritant buzzing around her ear.
“Miss, you are if anything, stubborn.” A wry smile graced her loyal housekeeper’s face, before she turned back towards the stove.
“Is there anything I can help with?” Crystal stood and shook her sore arms and legs. Recently, sitting around was prune to depressing thoughts.
“Would you like to bake some biscuits? His grace seemed to have finished the last batch.” Crystal hid her elatedness, biting her lips to prevent the smile threatening to form.
His grace loved her biscuits! Even though he never mentioned it, but the fact that he finished her creations was proof enough. She shared her secret recipes with no one. It was a delicious little gift for herself. She would allow herself to have this one little happiness in her life.
~~~
“William!” Duke Kensington turned his head to regard his aged aunt who glared at him with the usual impatience. Her wrinkles were more pronounced since the last time she visited. If he mentioned that, he was sure his dear aunt would skin his hide as she gave him an earful. “Are you listening to me?!”
“Yes, of course.” William pasted a smile on his face to placate his aunt but the woman naturally ignored his attempt like breathing.
“Have you taken a look at the invitations?”
Invitations. William dreaded the obligations of a duke. His responsibility to attend social gatherings has been, for the past year, the heated debate between him and his aunt. Debate. More like a one – sided debate if such a thing was possible. He tried to remain silent but that only fueled his aunt’s anger. He received more than one reprimand from her doctor about ‘upsetting’ his aunt.
Apparently, his aunt viewed it as time for him to forget his dead wife and move on. Certainly, it was the natural way of their world to up and marry for propriety’s sakes, but William grew up to believe otherwise. His parents married for love and so did he. How he wished to forget Elizabeth but she was too beautiful. No one could ever replace her in his heart. They were so much in love but not soon after marriage she died. Curse the Claringtons! The culprit is forever ruined and rusticating in the countryside but that did not sooth his aching heart. Elizabeth is dead while her murderer is still alive. Oh Elizabeth! His love. If only he could stare into her sky blue eyes again, he would do anything. Give away his dukedom if he must for he never wanted it anyway, but his elder brother died tragically. He had his own endeavours then suddenly, he found himself stuck. Never imagine that as a spare, he would take charge of his family line.
A dukedom could never be without its owner. His parents would haunt him from their grave if he neglected his duties for too long. He was starting to have dreams for one. Not that he would tell his aunt. Now, all he has left is his mother’s sister, Aunt Madison. Just like part of her name, Madison is truly ‘mad.’ The woman is still bursting with fire and matchmaking plans in the ripe age of 75. He knows some who went senile in their 60s but apparently death seemed to have lost against the formidable old woman.
“Hello?!” William winced at Madison’s high pitched voice. How could such a little woman sitting at least six feet away make such a loud noise? He was so used to the quiet life in his country home that whenever Madison arrived for a visit, he would shiver involuntarily. His servants would always make subtle escapes. How he envied them.
“My apologies.” He quipped with a bow.
Madison arched her thin eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. In terms of a staring battle, nobody had yet bested him.
“Ugh, I’ve always hated that dreadful stare of yours. You better not stare at others so openly unless you want to encourage their affections.” Madison scoffed morosely. “I take it you have some excuse about the invitations?”
William sipped his brandy and wished he had gotten something stronger. However, he had promised himself to never abuse with alcohol again. What a dilemma he found himself in.
“You’re coming to London this season.” His aunt commanded rather than asked. William knew there was no use contradicting the woman. She would never leave otherwise. “And you will be amiable, William Laurence Kensington. It is time you produced an heir.”
“There’s still time, my dear aunt.” William slumped on his favourite chaste, not the least fond of the topic.
“You are six and twenty! Your elder brother died when he is around your age, or have you forgotten?”
How could he? First his darling wife, then his beloved elder brother. In quick successions, God took away his last two family members.
“Produce an heir quickly before you meet your maker!”
“Glad you care about my well-being.” He nodded, his tone neu
tral. Madison ignored his remark and continued her rant.
“I love you, my dear. You’re the only son left of my beloved sister! But you cannot remain as you are now, living in this empty shell. Meet your friends again, marry, and damn raise a family!”
William’s eyebrow arched at his aunt’s persistent tone but what was shocking was the added profanity. The woman was definitely fired up today. Before he could address his aunt on this observation, the door knocked.
His butler entered and signaled them for lunch. He stood and held his arm out for his aunt. She huffed and took his arm. William, thankful for the short silence, walked on autopilot to the dining room.
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