The Duke of Ruin

by Burke, Darcy

  He relaxed slightly, appreciating her efforts to keep the darkness at bay. “This room will be fine. I asked Nevis—my steward—to oversee refurbishments to several rooms since…since Miriam died.” It was, he realized, the first time he’d uttered her name to Diana.

  “I see. I like the green. It reminds me of your chamber at my cousin’s.”

  He smiled. “I thought the same thing. And Lord knows I have pleasant memories of that room.”

  She blushed. “What else has been refurbished?”

  “The stairs were first. The railings have been changed. They were gilt before. And all the artwork there and in the entry hall have been moved around—so that it looks different.”

  “A wise decision.” She stepped toward him, her features tentative. “Simon, have you considered not living here?”

  Every damn day. “One might argue that I don’t. As you know, I’ve spent much of the last two years traveling. Or I’m in London for Parliament. I stayed here one night after I left the house party in October, and before that, I was here for just four or five nights in the summer.”

  She touched his hand, slipping her fingers between his. “We don’t have to stay.”

  “We do—at least for a few days, maybe a week. A duke should probably see to his estate.”

  She moved closer so that their chests almost touched. “I don’t want you to suffer.”

  He marveled at her empathy. “How can you be so kind? You know what happened here, what I did.”

  “Not entirely,” she said. “I know your former wife fell and that you are blamed and that you don’t remember what happened. It sounds like a terrible tragedy. Sometimes, no one is at fault.”

  Logically, he knew that was true, but that wasn’t the case here. He’d apparently been arguing with Miriam, not that he could fathom why. They’d never fought. While it was true no one could definitively say he’d caused her death, it certainly seemed as though he had. He ought to tell Diana all this, but the words froze on his tongue. She was so understanding, so generous with her faith—he wanted to bask in her light.

  He realized this was what love felt like. He knew from loving Miriam. He’d wanted to spend every moment with her, to better himself by being in her orbit. But how could he love someone other than Miriam? He’d sworn he wouldn’t. He could like and respect and admire Diana. He couldn’t love her.

  His chest ached with the unfairness of it.

  Suddenly, he was tired of thinking, of hurting. He wanted to feel something good. And he wanted to forget. He clasped his hands around Diana’s waist and pulled her flush to his chest. He lowered his mouth to hers and claimed her lips.

  Again, she seemed to understand exactly what he needed. She pushed his coat from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, then tugged his cravat loose and slid the silk from his neck. When his shirt fell open, she slipped her hands inside the fabric and caressed his collarbones, curling her fingers around his nape.

  Her tongue flashed into his mouth, seeking and claiming what he would freely offer. She’d been nothing short of adventurous and enticing in their marriage bed. He’d hoped to find a match like this once, but twice?

  No, this wasn’t the same as Miriam. It couldn’t be.

  And it wasn’t. There was something fiercer about Diana—she was courage and fire and beauty all wrapped into a petite and astonishing package. She was, as he’d told her on several occasions, incomparable.

  The familiar guilt tugged at him, more strongly than in recent days, probably because of returning to Lyndhurst. But maybe with Diana—with this glorious physical connection between them—he could begin to banish the ghosts of his past.

  She trailed her lips from his, moving along his jaw, then down his neck. Her fingers made quick work of the buttons on his waistcoat, unfastening them with deft alacrity. Then the garment slid from his shoulders to join the growing pile of his clothing on the floor.

  “Duchess, are you seducing me?” he murmured.

  She pulled the hem of his shirt from his waistband and skimmed her hand up under the fabric, stroking the hard plane of his abdomen. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “Never.” He curled his hand around her nape and dragged her mouth back to his. Unbidden, he whispered, “Make me forget.” The plea was dark and ragged, like the edges of a heart that had been split in two.

  But just maybe it could be repaired.

  Chapter 14

  After dinner last night, Simon had given Diana a tour of Lyndhurst. Quite a few refurbishments had taken place over the past two years, and she wondered if all the work would be enough to make living here tolerable for him. She wasn’t convinced.

  She could see, however, that her new husband was really quite wealthy. That might be enough to mollify her father, but she doubted it. She wondered when and how he would deliver his anger upon her—for never in a moment did she think he’d simply congratulate her on her elopement and wish her well.

  Shoving those unpleasant thoughts aside, Diana made her way from the sitting room where she’d enjoyed a lovely breakfast with Simon. After enjoying a rather lovely night with him too.

  She still blushed thinking of their intimacy and how wonderful it had turned out to be. She now had to speculate whether her mother’s experiences were really as awful as what she’d told Diana, or if she’d lied on purpose to dissuade Diana from allowing any bachelors to kiss her while she was on the marriage mart. Unfortunately, Diana was fairly certain it was the former. Her poor mother.

  Perhaps I should write to her, Diana thought. While she’d always seen her mother as complicit in her father’s cruelty, she also accepted that the woman really had no choice. And now that Diana was married to a man who valued and respected her, she found she had a wealth of sympathy for her mother.

  Simon had already gone downstairs to meet with his steward and butler, and Diana had an appointment with the housekeeper, Mrs. Marley. They’d planned to meet in the housekeeper’s office, which was situated near the kitchen attached to the main house. As she made her way toward the stairs leading down to the hall, it was impossible not to think of Simon and the former duchess. And since it pained her to imagine his wife tumbling down the stairs to her death, Diana knew just how torturous it was for Simon to be here. It was no wonder he spent so much time away.

  She also understood why he moved through this particular space rather quickly. Now she didn’t linger either.

  She hastened into the small parlor, then through to the lobby that opened into the breakfast room and led to the corridor that funneled to the kitchens. Simon had pointed them out last night, but they hadn’t gone to investigate.

  She stepped into a vestibule that led to many rooms, the largest of which was the main kitchen in front of her. However, before she could move forward, Mrs. Marley approached from the left.

  “Good morning, Your Grace.” The housekeeper smiled warmly. She was young for her position—not much older than Diana—with dark red-brown hair and rich brown eyes. In fact, Diana had noticed that most of the staff was rather young, with the exception of the steward and the cook.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Marley.”

  “My office is just this way.” She led Diana through the vestibule to a door that opened to a small room. Not much larger than a closet, it held a writing desk and straight-backed chair set against one wall, with another chair on the opposite wall. There was also a dresser and a small hearth with a low fire burning in the grate. The flames and a lantern on the desk were the only sources of illumination, for there were no windows.

  “Is this office sufficient for your duties?” Diana asked.

  “Oh yes, ma’am. I don’t spend much time here. There’s far too much to oversee throughout a house of this size.”

  “I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you’re very young to be in your position. You must be quite accomplished.”

  Mrs. Marley blushed slightly, but her spine was straight and her head high. “I’ve always worked very hard and ha
ve been fortunate to move up. Unfortunately, I was likely promoted far before my time due to the tragedy that happened here.”

  “Many of the staff left?”

  Mrs. Marley nodded. “Rather than be marked by the scandal. I considered leaving, but I am far too fond of the family. I’ve never worked anywhere else.”

  Diana understood that kind of loyalty and was glad to hear of it. Simon needed all the support he could get. “How long have you worked here?”

  “Over ten years, ma’am.”

  “And when the former housekeeper left two years ago, you were promoted.” Diana assumed that was how the butler had also gained his position. She thought of the steward and cook and presumed they must have remained despite what happened. “You say many of the staff left, but how many remained?” Diana didn’t want to gossip, but she needed to understand the household that was now in her care.

  “One of the scullery maids, a single footman, and some of the outside staff. Plus Mr. Nevis and Mrs. Dodd.” The steward and the cook, just as Diana had thought.

  “I’m grateful to those of you who stayed, and I’m sure the Duke is as well.” Not that he likely told them. He was never here. “Has it been…difficult since then?” The house seemed to be well organized and finely run, but again, in Simon’s absence, how could they really know if they didn’t ask?

  “It’s been different. His Grace is rarely here. We didn’t replace all the staff who left. There hasn’t been a need to do so.”

  That made sense. “Well, it sounds as if you’re managing things adequately. The Duke and I deeply appreciate your service—and your loyalty.”

  “It is my distinct honor and privilege to serve him, and you, ma’am. We were all distraught over what happened with the previous duchess. We only want for His Grace to find happiness once more. Now he’s wed again, and it seems God’s grace has smiled upon him.” She smiled, and her eyes sparked with cheer. “Upon all of us.”

  Diana couldn’t argue with that sentiment. She was just so pleased to hear that the staff was behind Simon. “I’d like to see the kitchens if I may?”

  “Of course. You met Mrs. Dodd yesterday. She is probably the best person to show you her domain.” Mrs. Marley lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “She’d prefer that. I may outrank her, but the kitchens are her kingdom, and I wouldn’t dare interfere.” She winked, a glint of humor in her eye.

  Diana laughed softly. “I see. Thank you for telling me.” She recalled Mrs. Dodd’s confident and perhaps slightly taciturn demeanor yesterday. She hadn’t remained for the disbursement of the gifts, saying she and her staff had to return to the kitchens or there wouldn’t be any dinner. Their gifts had been delivered here to be handed out later.

  “I’ll take you to her,” Mrs. Marley offered, gesturing toward the door.

  Diana turned and went back through the vestibule to the entrance to the main kitchen on the left. A long table stood in the center of the room, and on the other side was a wall of brick masonry featuring a massive hearth as well as a new iron range. Diana had heard about them but hadn’t seen one.

  Mrs. Dodd turned from supervising one of the maids, who was stirring something on the stovetop. She wiped her hands on her apron. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Dodd. It smells wonderful in here.”

  “Don’t go into the scullery.” She nodded to her left. “The maids are gutting fish for dinner tonight. Doesn’t smell too good in there just now.” She tittered, and Diana thought the cook seemed far more comfortable here than she had in the hall yesterday. Probably because she was in her element, her kingdom, as Mrs. Marley had called it.

  “I wondered if you might show me around your kitchens?” Diana asked, glancing about the busy main room. There were several doorways leading to the various parts of the kitchen, and she was eager to explore each one.

  “Certainly,” Mrs. Dodd said brusquely. She directed a look at the housekeeper, who excused herself and left the kitchen with alacrity. “That one’s a fine housekeeper, but she’s always rubbed me a little odd.” Her generous mouth ticked up. “But then most people rub me a little odd.”

  Diana could think of nothing to say to that, so she didn’t. “This is a very large kitchen.”

  “The best in Hampshire. Come, I’ll show you.” She guided Diana through the various rooms leading off the main kitchen. There was a pantry, a dry larder, a wet larder, a buttery, the scullery with its own storeroom, and a door to the outside that led to the ash bin and fuel bins as well as the kitchen garden.

  “My husband is the head gardener,” Mrs. Dodd said. “He oversees the kitchen garden for me.”

  Diana hadn’t met the outside retainers yet. She didn’t realize any of the staff were married. “Do you and Mr. Dodd live here in the house?”

  “No, the former duke, God rest his blessed soul, gifted us a cottage. No one can say the Lyndhurst staff aren’t well cared for.”

  And yet many of them had left rather than face the scandal of what had happened here two years ago. “Is anyone else on the staff married?”

  “Not yet, but I hear Lowell is speaking to His Grace about that this morning. He and Mrs. Marley would like to wed.”

  “Oh, she isn’t actually a missus then?” Diana recalled that housekeepers typically went by missus, whether they were wed or not. She wondered why the housekeeper hadn’t said anything about marrying the butler, but perhaps Mrs. Marley preferred to wait for her intended to speak with Simon.

  “It’s past time. They’ve been sneaking around for a long while now—since before the Incident.” She lowered her voice. “We don’t talk about it.”

  Diana had no problem comprehending what the “Incident” was. She shouldn’t talk about it either, but it nagged at the back of her mind. What she knew of it didn’t paint a full picture, probably because Simon couldn’t contribute any memory of it.

  Mrs. Dodd continued. “I don’t let my girls talk about anything like that—no gossip in my kitchen, I say.” She cracked a small smile. “Except for me, of course. Can’t let the housemaids have all the fun.”

  The staff at Lyndhurst was perhaps as hierarchical and complicated as Society. Diana went back to the topic at hand. “I’m sure the Duke will support their marriage.” As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn’t. It wasn’t her place to say such things without Simon doing so first.

  Except she knew he would. Because she knew him. The admonition had come from the part of her brain that was still under the influence of her parents. She’d been able to push them from her thoughts more and more, but now that she was fulfilling the role they’d always intended for her, it seemed the knowledge they’d drilled into her was harder to ignore. She didn’t want to be the kind of duchess her mother and father had trained her to be. She wanted to be the kind of duchess who knew her staff well and supported their lives and loves.

  Mrs. Dodd put her hand on her hip and yelled toward the stove. “Becky, you need to stir that faster or it will burn and be ruined!”

  The maid increased her movements as directed.

  The cook shook her head. “Have to watch these girls constantly. But they’re a good lot. Hard workers to a one.” She blinked her light blue eyes at Diana. “What was I saying? Ah yes, Lowell and Marley getting married. It’s hard for me to be too happy for them.” She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “As I said, Mrs. Marley rubs me wrong. Always a bit big for her station, if you ask me.”

  “But you said she’s a fine housekeeper.” Diana didn’t wish to encourage the servants’ gossip, but she also wanted to understand the complicated relationships between them so she could better manage her duties.

  “That she is.” Mrs. Dodd waved her hand, motioning for Diana to move toward the other end of the table so they were out of earshot of the other maids—relatively. The cook pitched her voice to its lowest volume yet, which still wasn’t quite a whisper. “I admit I don’t particularly care for Mrs. Marley because of the role she played i
n the Incident.”

  This time, Diana couldn’t resist probing for more information. “Whatever do you mean?” She confined her voice to a genuine whisper.

  “Mrs. Marley is the one who saw what happened. She said His Grace and Her Grace argued on the stairs, and the next thing she knew, Her Grace had tumbled to the hall.” Mrs. Dodd’s eyes darkened with sadness. “Terrible tragedy. Her Grace was as kind as they come.” She flicked a wary glance at Diana. “I’m sure you’re just as kind.”

  “I shall hope to display such a quality,” Diana murmured. This staff was apparently not only loyal to Simon, but also to his first duchess. And yet, they’d also been welcoming to her. So far.

  She couldn’t help but delve deeper into the Incident. “So Mrs. Marley saw the Duke push the duchess?”

  “Not directly, but she saw him grab her arm. The story goes that she didn’t want them to see her, so she turned to leave. That’s when she heard the sound of Her Grace hitting the floor.” Mrs. Dodd winced as she shook her head. “It was most distressing.” Sadness darkened her words.

  Diana’s stomach turned, and she felt a bit queasy. Simon had grabbed Miriam’s arm? Diana had never believed he could push his wife, whether angry or drunk—or both. Her father was capable of that kind of behavior, but not Simon. Yet, she recalled the way he’d grabbed her in Brereton, when he’d seen the Taft children. He’d been completely unaware of what he’d done, of the stress that had provoked him to squeeze her too tightly. Had he done something similar with his first wife? She could see how it was possible, especially since he’d been drunk. Her blood ran cold. For the first time, she considered that he might actually be guilty of what everyone accused him of. And that made her feel sick.

  Diana recalled her conversation with the housekeeper and how supportive she’d been of Simon. “Despite seeing that, Mrs. Marley stayed?”

  “Oh yes, she’s always been a staunch ally to His Grace. She and Lowell both, but I guess that makes sense. You tend to share everything with your mate.” Her eyes narrowed, and her voice, which had risen to a normal tone, dipped again. “What I’ve always wondered is why the stupid chit couldn’t just lie and say she didn’t see anything. Why torture His Grace with the knowledge that he may have caused her death?” Mrs. Dodd’s gaze sharpened on the maid stirring at the stove. “That’s too fast now, Becky!” She exhaled with a tinge of exasperation. “It’s time for the next step.” She gave Diana an apologetic look. “It’s her first time with the sauce. Excuse me, ma’am.”