“Which footmen?”
Lenora hesitated. “I don’t want to give their names,” she said. “They have been the closest thing I’ve had to family, Father. I’ve served with these people all my life. I don’t want harm to come to them.”
“After what they did?”
“You understand,” Lenora said. “I know you do, Father. Because they were acting on orders.” She emphasized the word this time.
The Duke closed his eyes. “Orders.”
“Yes.”
He looked at the Duchess. “You did this?”
“I did it,” Lady Katherine spoke up defiantly. “She’s been a burden to you, Father, a blight on our family. Someone had to do something, and I was the only one with the courage. You should be thanking me.”
“What did they do, Lenora?” the Duke asked. “After they tied you up in the basement? What came next?”
“They waited until dark,” Lenora said. “They took me outside. A carriage was waiting. They loaded me in and drove me out into the countryside, where they were planning to leave me to fend for myself. And so they would have done, if the carriage had not been set upon by bandits. In the commotion, I was able to free myself and steal a horse. I returned home to confront Lady Katherine.”
“I can’t believe this,” the Duke said quietly. “I can’t believe my own daughter would do such a terrible thing.” He looked at the Duchess. “And you knew about it. You were party to the lie.”
She did not deny it.
“You could not have believed this was something I would want,” the Duke said, looking from Lady Katherine to his wife. “If you had believed that, you would have felt no need to deceive me.”
“You didn’t have the strength to want it,” the Duchess said. “You’re far too soft hearted for your own good. We did it to help you. We wanted to rid you of this girl without your having to feel any guilt or shame about it. And it almost worked. You would have grieved for her, yes, but you would have moved on.”
“She’s my daughter,” the Duke said. “You would presume to take my daughter away from me? To rip her from my life, so violently, when I’ve already lost her mother?”
“You can’t still be thinking of your first wife,” Lady Katherine said. “That was more than twenty years ago. You were only married for a short time. You must have moved on by now, surely.”
“Don’t you dare speak ill of the woman I loved, Katherine,” the Duke said. “You are my daughter. I will always love you, no matter what. But what you’ve done here is unconscionable. I cannot have you in my sight right now. Either one of you.” He looked to the Duchess. “Retire to your chambers at once. I may wish to speak with you in the morning, but for now, I am finished with you.”
“Father,” Lady Katherine tried once more. “We did what we thought was best. For you. We acted for you.”
“Go,” the Duke said again. “Go now, before I have you forcibly removed from my sight.”
The Duchess got to her feet, retaining as much grace as she possibly could under the circumstances, and swept out of the room, sparing a haughty glance at Lenora.
“This is all your fault,” Lady Katherine said bitingly to Lenora.
Lenora ignored both women. Her gaze caught Adrian’s, and Adrian felt as if both of them were inhaling at the same time.
Chapter 19
Lenora thought she would feel better—feel a loosening of the tension that had overtaken the room—after Lady Katherine and her mother had departed, but instead, she felt more distressed than ever.
Being alone with the Duke had always been a gift. It had been a rare occasion, a stolen secret. And when he had left again, as he inevitably did, those moments had given her the strength she needed to resist Lady Katherine’s cruelty.
You think I’m unloved, she often thought to herself as Lady Katherine spoke to her in tones of disdain. You think I’m unwanted. But he’s my father as much as he is yours, My Lady, and he does want me here. He will never give you the thing you want so much. He will never send me away from his sight.
Tonight, though, being in her father’s presence was almost painful. She wanted to thank him for the things he had said, for the fact that he had acknowledged her at last.
She also wanted to express her anger that it had taken him so long.
He was a duke. She was nothing. She had no right to feel anger toward him.
She felt it all the same.
Fortunately, she was spared having to speak by Lord Galdhor’s friend, who now got to his feet. “Perhaps I should take my leave,” he suggested.
“Indeed, Mr. Peters,” the Duke said. “Do you have a means of transport?”
“I rode here,” Mr. Peters said. “I’ll be fine. Lord Galdhor?”
“I’ll accompany you to the door.” Lord Galdhor got to his feet. “Excuse me for a moment, Your Grace.”
“Of course,” the Duke agreed, and Lord Galdhor and Mr. Peters departed the dining room.
“Lenora,” the Duke said, once they were alone.
She didn’t answer. She didn’t know what to say.
“I know you said you would forgive me,” the Duke said.
“And so I will.” How could she say anything else? Besides, she did want to forgive him. She wanted them to be a family. She wanted what had been promised.
But was it too late?
“All the things you told me tonight,” he said. “Everything Katherine did to you—I’m horrified. I blame myself.”
“You do?” Why would he blame himself? she wondered. He wasn’t even here when it happened. It certainly wasn’t his fault.
“There was a flaw in the way I raised her,” the Duke said. “There must have been. A lack in her education, perhaps. I thought that growing up with you would teach her that servants were not beneath her. But it seems to have done the opposite.”
“You relegated me to the serving class so that your favorite daughter could be elevated above me,” Lenora said. Immediately, her hand flew to her mouth. She was shocked at her own words. To speak so to a duke!
He frowned. “That’s what you think?”
“That’s what happened.”
“Lenora. Believe me. It was never my intention to elevate Katherine above you. I thought only that changing your station would shield you. Katherine was not yet born when the decision was made.”
“But you wanted her,” Lenora said. “You wanted a different daughter. A better daughter. One without—” Her fingertips moved subconsciously to the eyepatch that covered her blind eye.
“No,” said the Duke. “No, Lenora. The eye never affected how I saw you. You were my beloved daughter, always, from the moment you were born.” He sighed. “They say a father shouldn’t have favorites.”
“But you did.” Of course, he did. It was obvious. I’ve known all my life that Katherine was the favorite, Father. You don’t need to tell me now.
“I tried my best,” the Duke said. “I loved you both, of course. I always will. But Lenora…every time I look at you, I see your mother. She was the love of my life. You look so very like her.”
Lenora felt as though she couldn’t breathe.
“She would be so proud of the woman you’ve become,” the Duke said. “And so am I. I should have known all your life that someday a man would love you as much as I do. I should have known better. I believed my wife when she told me that the world was full of people too superficial to love a girl with a blind eye.”
“She only wanted me out of the way,” Lenora said.
“Out of the way for her own daughter,” the Duke agreed. “It’s an impulse I can understand. I would do anything to protect my daughters. Both of my daughters. I would do anything to serve your interests.”
And Lenora understood. That’s why he never wanted to claim me, she thought. He thought, truly believed, that the best life for me was as a servant.
And had he been wrong? Truly, there was no way to know for sure. It would have been challenging to grow up as a member of t
he ton, she knew that. There would have been people who were cruel about her appearance. Maybe it had been a gift that she had been allowed to keep to the shadows throughout her life so far.
Maybe the Duke’s decision had been a good one.
She didn’t know, and in not knowing, she recognized how hard the choice he had had to make had been.
And in that moment, she forgave him.
“It’s all right, Father,” she said, the word coming easily off her tongue for the first time. “Let us leave the past in the past.”
“Can you really do that?” he asked her.
“It’s the wisest course of action,” she said. “Nothing will be served if we continue to dwell on bygones.”
“You’re a wise young lady, Lenora.” He smiled. “I’m very proud of you. I hope you know that.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“Your soup has gotten cold,” he pointed out.
She looked down. She had forgotten all about the soup. “I suppose I wasn’t hungry.”
“Well, you’ve got to eat. Let me go and speak to the kitchen. We’ll have them send in a meal for the two of us—and for Lord Galdhor, if he will consent to dine with us. And I’ll have trays sent up for your stepmother and sister as well.”
It was the first time Lenora had heard the Duchess and Lady Katherine referred to in those terms. It made her giggle, but she quickly composed her face. “Yes, Father.”
“Wait here.” The Duke got to his feet and left the dining room, leaving Lenora on her own.
Lenora did her best to relax. She was conscious of the fact that not only was she wearing a simple dress she had sewn herself—the same dress she had been wearing for days, in fact—she was also dirty and tattered from her encounter with the bandits and her flight home.
And yet, here she was, sitting at the dining room table at Brackhill Manor like a proper lady. As if she belonged here.
I do belong here, she told herself firmly. I am the daughter of Lord Brackhill. I belong in this manor. I belong at this table.
But it was such a hard thing to believe. All her life, she had served in this room. She had done all she could to be invisible here. Her place had been to bring things to the table, or to clear things away. To clean. To stick to the fringes.
Never to be seen. Never to speak.
And now she sat at the table like a member of the family.
It was uncomfortable, and there was a part of her that longed to get up and leave the room. A part of her wanted to retreat to her bedroom upstairs, which had always been her safe space. There, she knew, she could be herself.
But she had to stay. She had to stay because there was too much to talk about now. There was her relationship with the Duke to rebuild, of course—her father, whom she hardly knew.
And there was Lord Galdhor.
Had he really hoped to marry her?
The idea was surprising to say the least. He had known her as nothing more than a servant, and him a marquess. How could he have thought to marry her? Even if he did have feelings for her, as he claimed, a wedding would give rise to a scandal.
Still, Lenora had to admit, she liked the idea that he had wanted her when he thought her just a chambermaid. She liked the idea that a man had fallen for her, not because she was the daughter of a duke, but because of who she was as a person.
Perhaps that was another gift her father’s choices had given her. Lady Katherine would never have that luxury. She would never know for sure that any man had chosen her for who she was.
That must be a very frightening feeling, Lenora thought. She was unsure of whether she could accept Lord Galdhor’s proposal, but at least she knew it was real. But Lady Katherine—she had been a few signatures away from marrying the man herself, and he had never loved her.
Someday, when things had settled down, when she felt a bit more confident in herself, she would have to remember to thank her father for that.
He returned to the room now and took a seat beside her at the table. “The cook is preparing boiled chicken,” he said. “And I spoke to Lord Galdhor in the foyer. He will be rejoining us momentarily, and the three of us can dine together.”
“Very well, Father.”
“Before he returns,” the Duke said. “There is something I wish to tell you, Lenora.”
“What more could there be?”
“Only this.” He took a breath. “I want you to know that I will commit myself to spending the rest of my life ensuring that you are given all you deserve. I will dedicate myself to atoning for the mistakes I made throughout your youth.”
“I’m not certain they were mistakes after all,” Lenora admitted. “We don’t know what my life would have been if you had chosen differently.”
“Wise indeed,” he said. “I was correct in my assessment of you. And yet, we know some things. We know, for instance, that you would never have suffered as you have in the past few days if you had been recognized as a lady of Brackhill Manor.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“The staff would never have dared to treat my daughter so.” He smiled wryly. “No doubt they’ll be horrified when they learn the truth of your identity.”
“Don’t dismiss them from their positions, Father,” Lenora begged. “My experience as a chambermaid has taught me much, and one thing I know is how frightening it can be to know that the world isn’t looking out for you.”
“You are compassionate,” he said. “Much like your mother. She would never allow for the dismissal of a servant, as long as that person was doing the best they could.”
Lenora nodded. “I feel the same way,” she said. “Sending them away from the manor could ruin their lives forever.”
“They tried to ruin your life,” the Duke pointed out. “Had they been successful, Lenora, you would have been killed.”
“Reduce their status if you must,” Lenora said. “Make Mrs. Durian a scullery maid, if you must. But do not send her from the manor. None of them were acting of their own free will. They were acting on Lady Katherine’s orders. And she is to be forgiven.”
“That’s true,” the Duke said.
“Why should she receive mercy, and they receive none?” Lenora asked. “Only because of her noble birth? It seems unjust to me.”
“It is unjust,” the Duke agreed. “And you are a kindhearted young lady, Lenora. I could not be more proud of you than I am today.”
Lord Galdhor knocked on the door frame and leaned his head in. “Begging your pardon, Your Grace—”
“Yes, of course,” the Duke said. “Please come in, Lord Galdhor. Sit down, sit down. I trust your friend found his way out of the manor.”
“He did, Your Grace.” Lord Galdhor took a seat at the table opposite Lenora. He caught her gaze briefly, then turned his attention to the Duke. “I owe you an apology, I’m afraid.”
“You? For what?”
“For having a member of your household investigated without your knowledge.”
“You couldn’t have known she was my daughter.”
“Still, I ought to have said something. And yet I find I can’t honestly regret my actions,” Lord Galdhor admitted. “If I had not asked Samuel to investigate, the truth about Lenora might never have come to light. And I am not sorry to know it.”
“A sound point,” the Duke agreed. “Your apology is accepted, although it is unnecessary.”
Lord Galdhor nodded and turned to Lenora. “I must apologize to you as well…My Lady.”
She had never been addressed in such a manner, and it took her aback. It was a moment before she could find her voice to answer him. “Why would you apologize to me?”
“For the same reason. I violated your privacy by asking my friend to dig into your past. I’ll understand if you don’t wish to see any more of me.” He waited.
“No,” Lenora said. “I understand why you did what you did, Lord Galdhor. You could hardly come to Brackhill Manor and ask after me. I could barely bring myself to tell you my name
at first.”
“Perhaps you would have preferred me to leave the matter alone altogether,” Lord Galdhor suggested. “Perhaps you would have preferred that I take no notice of you.”
“No,” Lenora said quietly. “I would not have preferred that.”
Lord Galdhor turned to the Duke. “What is to become of the Duchess?” he asked. “And of Lady Katherine? They have treated Lady Lenora appallingly.”
A Game 0f Chess With The Marquess (Historical Regency Romance) Page 25
