Page 59 of Duke in Darkness

Deathly silence reigned in the entrance hall. The sea of faces stared, eyes wide, mouths open and cheeks flushed. It grew excruciating, but Lilian wanted them to squirm for the way they had behaved, letting a hero’s house become a mess, laughing about him, gossiping, treating him so shamefully. She also needed a moment, to suppress the urge to vomit or banshee wail at the extra detail Hobbs had provided. Three days of torture.

“Thank you both for clarifying matters further,” she said, enunciating her words so that every pair of ears would hear. “Now that you all understand why His Grace limps, and that his speech is impaired not because of drinking, but the damage done to his face, I don’t want to hear another word about either. The only facts that matter are His Grace served with distinction in the British Army for twelve years, he was mentioned in dispatches by Wellington, decorated by His Majesty the King, he was a brilliant colonel, and is an English hero.”

“Hear, hear!” said Hobbs, his eyes suspiciously bright.

Lilian took a shaky breath. “Now, return to your duties and think long and hard about your future. Those who work hard and keep their own counsel will be rewarded. Those who do not, will be dismissed. That is all.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and ascended the staircase like a queen, Dawn at her side.

“She is Duchess of Exton, hear her roar,” said Dawn solemnly, her eyes twinkling.

Yes. Indeed she was.

CHAPTER 14

What a difference a day made.

Fortunately, Hobbs had waxed lyrical about Lilian’s speech to the servants as he’d shaved Gabriel earlier, otherwise he’d have sworn he awoke in the wrong townhouse as he descended the stairs for breakfast. Maids polishing and dusting as though Queen Charlotte herself planned to stop by, but all smiles and curtsies, rather than looking at him as though he’d been caught trying to abscond with the silver. Footmen practically sprinting to open doors for him, and those in the dining room pulling out his chair, pouring him strong tea, and handing him a plate containing all his favorite breakfast foods as soon as he walked in.

Lilian had eventually joined him, but before he could say anything, apologize for his behavior only made worse by the fact that he’d actually missed supper with her the previous evening after falling asleep in his new chair, she had smiled, squeezed his hand, and wished him good morning. Surprised and rather confused at the undeserved warmth in her eyes, he had asked about her plans for the day, for he had a guest visiting in the afternoon he wanted her to meet. Lilian had fittings with Daisy the seamstress, but had promised to return as soon as possible.

Now he sat here in his library waiting for both Aggie and his duchess to arrive. He’d read documents regarding taking his seat in the House, signed some drafts to pay household bills with the quill and silver inkpot sitting by his elbow, and was feeling damned bloody ducal.

Indeed, what a difference a day—and six hours unbroken sleep—made. Even his foot was behaving, no small miracle after his foolishly prolonged ride in the freezing cold. All he needed now was time alone with Lilian so they could talk. So he could explain his actions, and thank her for the changes she’d made to the townhouse. Perhaps discuss what both of them truly wanted from their marriage. He wanted her to be happy, even if that meant speaking a little more freely about his past than he’d ever wanted to with someone outside the army.

A sharp knock on the door jolted him from his thoughts and Norris poked his head around the door, his lips pursed. “Beg pardon, but there is a Mrs. Taylor claiming she is here to take tea with you.”

“Probably because I invited her,” Gabriel replied shortly, as he shifted in his oversized and padded chair. “Escort her in at once. And advise Hobbs.”

The butler went a little puce in the face, but inclined his head. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Has my wife…returned from her outing?”

“Not yet. Fittings for ladies do take a long time, when the dowager and Miss Clarissa went for theirs, they could be gone all day, not just a morning.”

Gabriel gritted his teeth and tapped his quill against the desk. Perhaps it was just the butler’s overall chilly demeanor and air of superiority, but he’d disliked the man from the start. Pensioning him off grew more appealing by the day, but unlike other servants, butlers with the experience of managing large houses and fifty-odd footmen were hard to find. Norris and Mrs. Barrett had no doubt run Exton House since it was first built. “Fine. Fetch Mrs. Taylor…and arrange tea and cakes.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

The butler disappeared, and a few minutes later, Aggie bustled into the library. “Good God, Colonel. Excuse me, Your Grace. I didn’t think that man would let me inside the door. How does he manage to walk with such a giant stick lodged up his rump?”

Gabriel grinned in delight. Aggie and her bluntness. “I’ve no idea. But don’t feel special. He looks at me like…I’m a rat in the supply tent.”

She raised one eyebrow as she sank into a chair on the other side of his desk. “Aren’t you the duke? I thought dukes held all tickets on frigid disapproving looks. Granted my only direct experience is Wellington, but he could halt men at fifty paces with a glance.”

“A skill I need to learn. Or should I say, the thousandth ducal skill…I need to learn.”

“Hmmm,” Aggie said with a sigh. “I can only imagine how difficult the transition has been. I was very worried, you know, when I stopped getting letters from Kent. I thought perhaps…well, I thought the worst.”

“You were right to think that. His Grace was not well,” came a brusque voice from the doorway, and Hobbs marched into the room looking so uncomfortably primped and polished with a severely starched cravat and oiled hair, that Gabriel stifled a laugh. “Mrs. Taylor.”

“Mr. Hobbs,” she replied, her cheeks rosy. “Looking sharp.”

“It’s a treat to see you again.”

Aggie smiled when he bowed low, and the two of them stared at each other for a long moment, practically having an entire conversation with their eyes. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw the colonel riding along Rotten Row. And when he told me he had inherited the dukedom, I nearly fell off my horse.”

“He should not have been out at that hour,” said Hobbs, shooting him a dirty look as he sat down in the chair next to Aggie. “Far too cold and damp.”