Chapter Ten #2
It took over an hour for them to see the entire house, which was twice the size of Traywick Manor. Then again, it was the country seat of a duke.
“This is where Reddington spends most of his time when we are not in town, but my son also has several other estates scattered about England. Even one in Scotland.”
“Does he visit them very often?” she asked. “It must take a good deal of time to do so.”
“Matthew is a man conscious of his ducal duties, so naturally, he does go to his various holdings when he can. It is difficult when he is gone so much. I do miss him a great deal.”
“He has been the duke a long time, hasn’t he?” Verina asked, already knowing the answer to her question, but she enjoyed hearing the duchess speak.
Sadness washed over Her Grace’s countenance. “Yes, he was only ten and two when the title was foisted upon him. It was as if he grew old overnight. Matthew wanted to learn everything he could about his responsibilities, and he has taken them seriously ever since.”
“It is good he had you to help guide him, Your Grace,” she said.
The duchess’ gaze met hers. “I believe he is the one who guided me, my lady.”
She supposed Her Grace had been in mourning for the husband she lost and that her son had been of great comfort to her.
They went to the duchess’ sitting room, and she had a servant go and bring Tia to them, allowing the men to have time on their own. Most of the talk centered upon Lia and her newborns, and Her Grace promised to embroider something for each of the babes.
That evening, they went in to dinner, and Verina found herself sitting on the duke’s right hand.
He asked her several questions about Traywick Manor and her life there, as well as what she had been doing the past two weeks since they had seen one another.
She found herself relaxed in his company and hoped things would remain cordial between them for the remainder of her visit at Merrifield.
After dinner, they retired to the drawing room, where she and Justina were asked to play the pianoforte. Verina readily accepted, going first. Then Justina played as the two of them sang a duet. As usual, her sister was slightly off-key, but the others still applauded politely when they finished.
“I would like to hear His Grace play again,” she said boldly. “You did so when we first met.”
Smiling, he said, “I am always happy to play for others.”
He played two pieces for them, and she was astounded at the depth of his talent.
“I will never be able to play as well as you do, Your Grace,” Justina told him. “Then again, I am certain you practice more often than I do.”
“Shall we sing together a bit?” he asked.
They gathered around the pianoforte, and she enjoyed hearing his rich tenor, as well as Hugo’s deep bass. After two songs, the women asked for only the gentlemen to sing for them, and they obliged.
When the duke finished playing, he said, “I spent many a time at my pianoforte at university, singing along with this fellow.”
“Singing is one of the things which helped save me,” Hugo said earnestly. “It was providence . . . meeting up with you in the pub that day. As well as getting to know my cousin.”
“How is Anthony these days?” His Grace asked. “It has been a while since I have seen him.”
“Busy as ever,” Hugo replied. “He came home . . . with us. Last Sunday. Spent the afternoon. Anthony says Verina and Justina have become . . . new favorites of his.”
Her Grace said, “I am ready to retire. Do not let me stop you from having a bit of fun without me.”
Tia also rose. “I find myself tiring easily these days. I believe I will also retire.”
Hugo stood and took his wife’s hand. Verina knew it would be inappropriate for her and Justina to remain with the duke, unchaperoned, and so she said, “Justina and I will also head to our bedchambers.”
Sarie had come with them, and she helped Verina undress and don her night rail.
“Go and assist my sister,” she told the maid. “I can unpin my own hair and brush it out.”
The servant left, and Verina collected her pins, happy that Sarie would be coming with her.
Tia had spoken to the girl, and Sarie had leapt at the chance to become a lady’s maid.
If Tia could find someone in the village to replace Sarie as a parlor maid, she had said Sarie could return to Traywick Manor when they departed.
If not, Tia promised to bring Sarie to town with her come the spring.
Verina wasn’t really tired, and so she donned her dressing gown and decided to sit and read a bit. She opened the book she had brought with her and had only read a few pages of it when she thought she heard something in the corridor. It was . . . someone whispering?
She went to the door and opened it, and something brushed past her leg, causing her to squeak. She only hoped it was not a mouse.
Suddenly, a young woman appeared. She was close to Verina’s age and wearing a dressing gown. She seemed wild-eyed. Her hair was shorn close to her scalp.
“Did Patches run in here?” she asked, clearly distressed.
Having no idea who this woman might be, Verina asked, “Patches?”
“I think she ran in here when you opened your door.” The woman pushed past her, entering the room, moving about the room, her eyes searching.
“Under the bed!” the woman cried.
She glanced down and saw the tip of a small tail sticking out.
The young lady dropped to her hands and knees and reached under the bed, pulling out an adorable black and white kitten. She rose, kissing its head, and then came toward Verina.
“See? Patches did come in here. I call her Patches because . . . well, you see . . . she has patches all over her.” Hesitantly, the woman asked, “Would you like to hold her?”
Wanting to calm this stranger, since she still seemed very excitable, Verina said, “Please,” and stretched out her hands, taking the kitten. She brought it close, nuzzling her nose between the kitten’s ears.
“How old is Patches?” she asked.
The woman frowned, thinking a moment. “Hmm. She was about six weeks when I got here. I think I have been here four weeks or so. Anyway, I should be going to the cottage tomorrow.”
“The cottage?” Verina prompted, trying to keep the conversation moving, as well as understand it and more about this woman.
“I am to live with Miss Ross. Of course, she is not truly Miss Ross. She is actually Lady Ross—but she does not want anyone to know that. His Grace has told me I might like to take a new name. Because I am starting a new life.”
“What is your name now?” she asked gently, handing the kitten back to the woman, who brought it to her chest.
“Miss Stannis.” Then her eyes grew wide. “You mustn’t tell anyone about me, though. No one is to know I am here. Or at Dove Hall.”
“I am not familiar with Dove Hall,” said Verina. “Is it nearby?”
“Yes. They brought me first to Dove Hall, but my mind was muddled. I was still confused. You know, after my time . . . there.”
She remained quiet, deciding to let Miss Stannis share more only if she wished to.
“It was awful. At the asylum. Every day was horrible. It jumbled my mind. I am still not thinking quite straight, but I am getting better.”
“I have heard they are terrible places. Why were you at the asylum?”
Miss Stannis leaned close, her eyes large. “Because I would not marry that old goat, Lord Burghley. He must be seventy or older. I refused—and Papa had me put away.”
Pity filled her. Verina could not imagine her mother or brother forcing her into a marriage with someone decades older than she was. Miss Stannis looked to be no more than a year or two older than herself.
“How did you come to leave that . . . place?” she asked.
The words spilled rapidly from Miss Stannis.
“Their Graces help others. Ones like me. I was a bluestocking, which Papa disapproved of. I do not see why he cared because he only said a handful of words to me after Mama died a few years ago. I did not think I would make a match last Season, but I was taken for a new wardrobe and sent out with a chaperone, some cousin of Papa’s who is a widow.
The next thing I knew, Papa told me I would wed Lord Burghley.
I laughed when he said that, thinking he was teasing me. ”
Miss Stannis touched her cheek to the kitten’s head.
“He was not. He told me I had to wed his choice. Or else.” She grimaced.
“I found out what that choice was. At first, I said no and was confined to my room, only given bread and water. Then I was starved for a few days. Finally, Papa told me if I continued to be disobedient, I would be sent away.”
“To the asylum.”
Miss Stannis shuddered. “I did not know where. I thought my chances wherever he placed me would be better than wed to a man more than three times my age.” Tears filled her eyes.
“I should have gone through with the ceremony. When Lord Burghley died, I would have had my freedom. But I didn’t.
I was foolish. If His Grace had not saved me, we would not be having this conversation. ”
“The Duke of Reddington saved you.”
Nodding, the other woman said, “Yes. He helps women such as me. Her Grace also helps. They bring those they help to Dove Hall. Some stay. Some go and have a new life.” Miss Stannis’ mouth trembled.
“I am not as strong as I thought, so I will be one of the ones who stays. I will live with Miss Ross. And Patches. I am to care for Patches.”
Verina placed a hand on Miss Stannis’ shoulder. “I am glad you gained your freedom. And that you have Patches to look after. Shall I help you back to your bedchamber?”
“I need to return Patches to the stables. The rest of the litter is there, and she sleeps with them and her mother every night. Tomorrow, though, she will come with me. That is when I move in with Miss Ross.”
“I will go with you,” Verina said.
She took Miss Stannis’ elbow and led her from the room, going down the corridor and to the stairs.
“It will be quicker if we cut through the kitchens,” Miss Stannis told her, leading the way.
The night was cold as they stepped from the house. Both women only wore their night rails and dressing gowns, so they scurried to the stables. A groom met them.
“Got Patches for me, Miss Stannis?” he asked, obviously familiar with the woman and kitten.
“Yes, here she is. I will be back for her tomorrow. She is coming with me to Dove Hall.”
“Good for you, my lady,” the groom said, collecting the kitten. “I’ll see she’s safe and sound with her litter. Go back to the house, Miss Stannis. You can’t stay the night again.”
Verina pulled on the woman, leading her back outside. They raced across the yard and hurried inside the house, not speaking until they were back at her bedchamber.
“It was nice to meet you, Miss Stannis.”
“Likewise, my lady. Who are you?”
“Lady Verina Fulton. I am here visiting my cousin, Lady Merriman.”
“Oh, His Grace said he and Lord Merriman are great friends.”
“They are,” she agreed. “Shall I go with you to your bedchamber?”
“No, I will go myself.” Miss Stannis paused. “You were very kind to help me with Patches, my lady. Enjoy your stay.”
“I hope you and Patches like your new life, Miss Stannis.”
The young woman cocked her head, thinking a moment. “Call me Miss Ross. Or at least I think that may be who I am in the future. I shall ask if Lady Ross—I mean Miss Ross—would like me to be her sister.”
“It might be confusing with two Miss Rosses living in the same place.”
Worry filled the other woman’s face. “You are right. Then I shall be . . . Miss Brandon. Yes, Miss Brandon. It sounds like a strong name for a determined person. And I am determined never to go back to my old life.” Her mouth hardened. “I hope Papa rots in hell.”
The new Miss Brandon took Verina’s hands in hers. “Thank you again for your assistance, Lady Verina. I hope that we meet again someday.”
Miss Brandon moved down the hall until Verina could no longer see her shadow.
She entered her own bedchamber and removed her dressing gown before climbing into bed.
As she pulled the bedclothes over her, she wondered exactly how the Duke of Reddington had gotten into the business of rescuing women from madhouses.
Verina decided she would ask him tomorrow.