Chapter 1 #3
“I am not a liar,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “My husband disappears often enough that I no longer care to wonder. Sometimes the empty rooms are preferable to his presence, anyway.”
She forced herself to stop. She could not trust this stranger, this man with hard brown eyes who made her think she could confess something so soon.
“For at least I do not have to pretend to tolerate him,” was what she did not say.
The Duke only stared at her, and she wondered what he saw on her face.
Did he see the coldness that had burrowed in her bones for the entirety of her marriage? The resignation to what her life had become when she had once dreamed of floral wedding arches and love that bloomed day and night, a fountain of affection and adoration?
That she had waited for the man of her dreams, one to step right out of those beloved books she had coveted, only to be wed to a stoic man who never saw her?
A man who would not notice if she streaked through the entire city with scarcely a thread on her, or if she wore the most expensive, beautiful gown?
She was a background piece to her husband, and she had long bid goodbye to the dreams of being adored and wanted.
Yet, as the Duke looked at her, she had the strangest feeling that she was seen.
He stepped closer, and she took a step back. They moved past the fireplace, only for her back to hit the far wall. Her breath caught, before a gasp fell past her lips. The Duke only moved further into her space.
“Is your tongue sweetened with lies, Lady Kerrington?” he asked, the question peeling back something she had long since put into place to protect her foolish, soft heart.
His eyes dropped to her mouth, as if he was tempted to check for himself, but she was too focused on the thrill running through her. Finally, something was cracking through the coldness of her empty life, a match that had been struck, and she wanted it.
Heavens, her desires had not been stirred for a long time, but they were now, and she did not want the Duke to know that. Still, he gazed at her as though he knew. As though he might also—
No. Do not be foolish.
Her lips parted, ready to assert her innocence once again, when a loud cry came from upstairs.
Her heart, as it always did when she heard that cry, kicked into a frantic beat, protective at once.
The Duke froze, his eyebrows knitting together. “That’s your child?”
Sibyl nodded. “My daughter, Rosie. She is four months old.”
The Duke took another moment before stepping back. “I will wait here. Go tend to her.” His voice was sharp and formal, as if he were used to giving such instructions.
Sibyl frowned. “Wait here? Why…” she trailed off, confused. “What do you mean?”
“I am not leaving, Lady Kerrington,” he told her. “I am now your husband’s sole creditor, and that means I own your house, and I will remain here until Lord Kerrington returns.”
“You will remain here?” she sputtered, shaking her head. “No. No, Your Grace. This is my home, and you cannot simply barge into it, no matter your title. I thank you for chasing out those men, but you may take whatever qualms you have with my husband and leave them outside the house.”
The Duke lifted his chin, his eyes hardening. “What I have with your husband is no mere qualm, My Lady.”
There was something terribly dangerous in his voice, something that warned her to stay far, far away.
Fear coiled in her stomach, and once again, her breathing quickened.
The Duke stiffened, then moved back further to put distance between them, as if he had sensed her distress.
“No harm will come to you or your daughter,” he muttered. “Not by my hand.”
The promise seemed much softer than his warnings.
Sibyl only nodded, scared. But Rosie continued crying, and she didn’t have the time to linger and dissect his words for the truth.
Is your tongue sweetened with lies, Your Grace? she wondered to herself as she fled the parlor, leaving the peculiar Duke behind.
Rosie was only four months old, with wisps of hair the color of butter. She was the pride of Sibyl’s life. Cradled in her mother’s arms, she blinked up at her with wet eyes that were quickly drying.
Sibyl smiled down at her. “There, there,” she crooned. “That is all better now, is it not?”
She rocked Rosie for a while before moving to the window in the nursery, looking out over the shadowed garden.
She could just make out the apple tree that she had requested to be planted upon her arrival at Kerrington House, for she recalled how Phoebe was fond of picking them, and she wanted to invite her stepniece to do so whenever she pleased.
“I once feared having my own child,” she chattered away to distract herself from the wreckage downstairs. And from the stranger waiting for her.
The stranger who was apparently going to be living with her.
Aside from the impropriety of such a thing, Sibyl wondered why. Would he search her rooms, too? Would he tear Kerrington House apart to find her husband’s papers, ledgers, or whatever would…
Whatever would what? Whatever would prove that her husband was a gambler?
Most men in London were, and as far as she knew, her husband was good at many card games.
It is clear he is not, you fool. And now Rosie’s safety is jeopardized.
Forcing her worries aside, she continued speaking. “Your Aunt Hermia once told me that motherhood would come naturally to somebody like me. I do not really know what she saw to say that, but she was right. Being your mother is as easy as breathing air, my sweet girl.”
She thought back to the promise she had made to Rosie the day she had been born: that she would never succumb to pressure. Sibyl would fight every day to make sure Rosie didn’t grow up in the same environment as she had with her parents.
Her only wish was that Rosie would one day experience the joy of having siblings. Her sisters had been her best friends, and still were, and she could only hope that she would have more children.
Still, the thought of another clinical, quick coupling with her husband made her think otherwise. Her wedding night had lasted barely five minutes before her husband had rolled off her and retreated to his chambers.
“It is you and I, my sweet girl,” Sibyl promised. “You and I against whatever mess we’re in.”
Although she feared they had been in such a mess for a very long time, all she could do was keep her head high and watch it unfold.
The door opened, and she half expected to see the Duke barging into yet another room uninvited. But she only saw her baby’s nurse, Hannah.
As soon as Hannah saw her face, she frowned. “Lady Kerrington, are you all right? You look as though you have seen a ghost. You are ever so pale.” She moved to Rosie’s empty cot, adjusting the blankets. “Shall I fetch some water for you?”
“I am fine,” Sibyl said quickly, needing to stay calm for Rosie’s sake. She had just soothed her little girl, and she didn’t want to be the one to cause her to fuss again. “Do not worry about me. I heard Rosie cry, so I came to make sure she is well.”
“She is, indeed, My Lady,” Hannah confirmed, smiling. “I myself was on my way upstairs after hearing her cry, but I…” She bit her lip, looking at Sibyl. “I was distracted by the fact that there is a stranger in the parlor. Do you know him?”
Sibyl shook her head. “I do not, but please tell both Banwick and Mrs. Collier that he is to be treated like a guest. He is a friend of Lord Kerrington’s, so he will have whatever he needs during his stay here.”
“Will it be a long stay? I can tell one of the chambermaids to prepare a room close to Lord Kerrington’s.”
Sibyl hesitated. She could see why her nurse was confused, too. “I am uncertain of how long he will be staying here. Regardless, he will need a place to sleep.”
“I’ll pass on the request, My Lady.”
For a minute, Sibyl just stood there, lost in thoughts of the Duke, the aggression of the men from the Gilded Key, and the fact that her husband did not even have money to replace stolen food.
The room faded around her for a moment, and Hannah stepped closer, extending her arms for Rosie.
“It is all right,” Sibyl whispered. Panic was building in her sternum, despite her best efforts to distract herself. “I can handle it.”
I can handle it. I must handle it. Not only my baby’s cries, but… but everything.
But what was she supposed to do with the Duke downstairs?
She did not know when her husband would return, nor how long she was supposed to entertain the Duke, nor why he was adamant about staying in her house.
A scandal would break out, surely.
She was wed, yet another man would be staying at her house while her husband was absent.
Rumors about Lord Kerrington not always returning home to his wife had already spread through the ton, but Sibyl had merely laughed them off, claiming her husband enjoyed his nights in London and she could not stop him.
But now the Duke of Stonehelm had turned up, and he was about to throw everything off, and she could not afford another problem.
“Lady Kerrington?” Hannah pressed. “My Lady?”
Sibyl did not trust the Duke, nor the men from the Gilded Key, nor even Edmund. Her husband had left her no note, no explanation of his absence, and no word of his whereabouts.
She was alone in this situation, and she had to ensure her walls remained higher than ever.
Steeling herself, she made her decision: she would find her husband by herself.
Feeling quite in a trance, she placed Rosie in Hannah’s arms. “Please stay in the nursery with Rosie. You may use the bed by the cot, but do not leave her alone. I must go out, but I will be back before dawn. Take what you need and lock the door behind you once you return.”
“Is this to do with the stranger, My Lady? I will not let him anywhere near her.”
“I know,” Sibyl assured hurriedly.
“I will take care of Rosie, My Lady,” Hannah promised.
Sibyl nodded her thanks, then, with a quick kiss to Rosie’s forehead, she left the room and descended the stairs.
But rather than go down the main hallway and past the parlor, she veered to the servants’ quarters. There, she realized just how few servants they had.
Sibyl had believed her husband when he claimed that they did not need a host of footmen and maids, that a handful was plenty enough. Once, he had even argued that it helped the existing servants because they received higher pay.
Now, she wondered if her husband had just not been able to afford hiring more servants.
Finding Mrs. Collier and Banwick, she approached them with as much confidence as she could muster through her panic.
Banwick rose to his feet, ready and protective.
“Please prepare a guest chamber for His Grace immediately,” she instructed. “The Duke of Stonehelm is an important friend of Lord Kerrington’s; his every need must be attended to. He is currently in the parlor. Please make him feel welcome here.”
Mrs. Collier nodded, already moving to make the preparations even at such a late hour.
Sibyl’s confident orders—as though she knew the Duke, and knew exactly what she was doing—felt like ash on her tongue. Still, she turned on her heel and made for the parlor.
When she walked in, she found the Duke pacing back and forth. He was not overturning the furniture or rummaging through drawers, as she had shamefully expected.
But what reason did she have to think otherwise? He was here to collect a debt, just like the other men, even if he told her his intentions were different.
“Your Grace.” Her voice carried through the room, making him look up at her.
His whole demeanor was uninterested, bored, as if he was there because he had to be, but was not interested in wasting time.
“I have requested that a chamber be prepared for you,” she told him. “You may retire to it once it’s ready.”
It was a veiled dismissal, a plea for him to leave so she could sneak out, for if he was invested in her husband’s private matters, then she had a feeling he would not let her leave so easily.
No gentleman would, really, not so late at night.
The Duke fixed her with a knowing look. “No.”
“No?” Sibyl echoed.
“No,” he repeated. “I can’t retire when there are matters to tend to. I do not like having my time wasted.”
“Neither do I,” Sibyl shot back. “Which is why I have instructed the staff to prepare for your stay—”
“No,” he uttered, cocking his head. “I will wait right here for Lord Kerrington.”
His gaze slowly drifted up and down her frame, and she felt incredibly exposed. But the sense of being seen hit her once again. It was as though she had spent so long being invisible to her husband, a wife and mother to honor his duties, but otherwise a non-entity.
Yet, even though the Duke’s suspicion was insulting, somebody was finally looking at her.
“I do not know if he will return tonight, Your Grace,” Sibyl sighed, somewhat ashamed every time she had to admit her husband’s absence, for it only confirmed her lack of knowledge about the man she was married to.
The Duke’s mouth quirked. “Then I am certain I can survive staying awake for a few more hours.”
Frustration strung a chord through her, and she wished to demand whether he was always this stubborn. But then she forced a polite smile, nodded, and looked to where Mrs. Collier waited in the doorway with a chambermaid. She motioned for them to go upstairs.
“If you are certain you can wait, I shall retire for the night,” she lied.
The Duke nodded, seemingly appeased, and she hurried out of the room.
Down the carpeted hallway, Sibyl kept her footsteps light and quick. Both Hermia and Isabella had slipped out of Wickleby Hall and their London townhouse plenty of times. That’s how Sibyl picked up a few tips on how to leave undetected.
Back then, she had been scandalized by the rebellion. Now, she was grateful to her sisters for their unintentional lessons.
Hurrying to her room, she swapped her dinner gown for a plain, humble dress that didn’t attract attention—a mere beige slip. She pulled a dark blue cloak around her shoulders, tucked her hair beneath the collar, and then slipped into the hallway.
Pausing outside the nursery, and knowing the door was locked, she heard Hannah read a story to Rosie.
While Rosie wouldn’t understand the story, Hannah’s soothing voice would lull her to sleep. It was why Sibyl often reminisced about her childhood with her sisters, telling Rosie about her aunties.
For now, she was satisfied that all would be well.
Despite her racing heart and knowing the risk she was taking, she exited Kerrington House via the servants’ entrance and slipped quietly into the night.