Chapter Twenty-Nine
The next morning, she was dressed and ready to travel by the time the duke’s man knocked on the door to collect her and her trunks.
Rhys hadn’t shown up last night. She had sat at the window, watching the yard for his tall, lean shadow to make an appearance until she could no longer keep her eyes open.
Ginny had come over and gently helped her into bed. “Well, how would he know where we have stopped? Don’t worry, my lady. I am sure he will show up at the estate.”
Violet’s head was much clearer this morning. She was anxious to arrive at Eastwell Park. Certainly, that was where Rhys would head to look for her. She climbed into the carriage with her head held high. The duke was already inside. “Good morning, Your Grace.”
“Good morning, Violet. Ready to travel? If we continue without too many stops, we should arrive by midafternoon.”
She nodded and settled her skirts around her.
Ginny climbed in and took her seat with a nod to the duke, who completely ignored her.
His attitude toward staff was strictly “only speak when spoken to.” Otherwise, they did not exist in his presence.
Violet turned and gazed out the window, determined to do the same to the duke.
As promised, they turned down the long gravel drive to Eastwell Park by three o’clock that afternoon.
She was shown to her usual rooms by Mrs. Wells, the housekeeper.
A kindly older lady who had worked for the Lavensham family her entire life, her mother having been the daughter of the previous duke’s land manager and her father the stable master.
Once they were in the suite, she turned to Violet.
“Lady Sommerset, you are blooming! We were all saddened by news of your husband’s death but buoyed by news of your pregnancy. ”
“Thank you, Mrs. Wells. This trip was unexpected. The duke insists I spend the duration of my pregnancy here. For the fresh air, no doubt. I would dearly love to lie down.”
“Of course, my dear. You just have Ginny let me know if you require anything.”
Ginny led her to the edge of the bed. “Here, sit.” She untied her half boots and removed the dusty stockings.
Then Violet crawled onto the covers and laid her head down on an impossibly soft pillow.
At least she would have all the luxury of the ducal residence while she waited for Rhys to come and get her.
She shut her eyes and pictured his features—the sharp cheekbones and slashing eyebrows, the thin white line of his scar, and his soft lips and wicked tongue.
Tears welled up as she wished for his strong arms to be around her now.
To hear the soft words he whispered into her hair when he thought she was sleeping, of how beautiful she was, how strong, how sweet she tasted, how he would worship her all his days. Where are you, love?
Two days later, Violet walked in the park and wondered the same thing.
Where was Rhys? The footman who had been assigned to watch her trailed behind as she made the turn onto the path that circled the lake.
The sunlight sparkled off the water. The peace of the setting did her heart good.
Halfway around, she spotted a patch of strawberries growing wild.
There were so many ripe, red berries that she bent down and popped one into her mouth. Delicious.
She gathered three more and savored each bite.
There had been so little that had appealed to her appetite while eating at the duke’s table.
The dinners were heavy with greasy meats and boiled potatoes.
Last night, they had brought out a whole roasted piglet with a bright red apple in its mouth.
The smell of charred meat had made her gag, and she had to excuse herself and run out of the room in order not to vomit.
Ginny had brought her soup and a piece of crusty bread later, but she could not survive on bread and jam.
Didn’t the man believe in vegetables? Violet pulled her shawl from around her shoulders and filled it with bright, juicy strawberries.
Tying it into a bundle, she turned and headed back to the house.
The servant who followed her seemed confused by her abrupt turn back. “Everything all right, my lady?”
“Yes. Can you tell me which way to the kitchen door? I want to drop these berries off. I can’t believe my luck coming upon the patch.”
“Yes, they grow wild all over the estate in early spring. Follow me, ma’am.”
They walked back to the house in companionable silence. As they approached the backside of the manse, he led her through the kitchen garden and to a large wooden door. “This is it.”
“Thank you…what is your name?”
“Bernard, my lady.”
Violet grinned. “Bernard, what a noble name.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “It’s my father’s name.”
“Well, thank you, Bernard. I will just drop these off. I plan to go to my rooms afterward, so you may go attend to other things.”
He nodded and headed out back through the garden.
Violet went inside. The kitchen buzzed with activity.
Scullery maids stood shoulder to shoulder at a big sink, cleaning dishes.
Two young boys fed wood into a large stove.
And to her right, a buxom lady kneaded dough on a floured surface, her strong arms flexed as she pushed and pulled at it.
Violet wasn’t sure who to speak to about her strawberries.
“What’cha got there, miss?” a voice said from over at the long table in the middle of the kitchen.
Violet looked over. An elderly woman sat shelling peas into a large bowl.
Her white hair was braided neatly into an elaborate bun at her nape.
She cocked her head to one side as she stared at Violet.
Approaching the older woman, Violet said, “I gathered some strawberries. I thought I might leave them here to be added to supper tonight.” She laid her shawl on the table and untied it to show the woman her berries.
The woman didn’t even look at the berries. She continued to stare at Violet. “Lilly? It’s so good to see you. What have you brought back?”
Violet furrowed her brow. Lilly? “I’m not Lilly. I am Violet Sommerset.”
The woman waved a hand. “No, I never forget a face. You are Lilly. Look at you, ripe with child. She was so kind. Lovely girl, lovely girl.” The old woman’s voice became dreamy, her eyes unfocused.
“Lady Sommerset. What a surprise.” Mrs. Wells rushed across the room. “Is there something that you need?”
Violet smiled at the housekeeper. “Oh, I found strawberries growing down by the lake, and I couldn’t resist picking some. Do you think I could have some with my dinner tonight? Perhaps with cream?”
“Of course, my lady, whatever you wish.”
“Gertie, did you see? Lady Lilly has brought us some strawberries,” the older woman said.
“Mama, this is Lady Violet.” She glanced at Violet. “Sorry, my mother gets confused easily these days.”
“Nonsense. Don’t talk about me as though I have lost my faculties.
I never forget a face. This is Lilly Sommerset.
Look at her, ripe with the duke’s babe. She has returned from her walk with strawberries.
” The woman’s brow furrowed. “No, that’s not right.
Lady Lilly fled into the night. I helped her out of the back of the tower and into the carriage.
” The old woman peered up at Violet. “Are you returned?” The woman reached out and gripped Violet’s hand.
“You must be careful, though. It’s still not safe. ”
“Mother! What nonsense. I am so sorry, Lady Sommerset. My mother’s thoughts are often muddled these past few years. She easily mixes up the past and present.”
But Violet paid little attention to the worried chatter of the housekeeper. She stared down at the older servant who gripped her hand.
The woman’s expression was urgent. “Lady Lilly, why have you returned?”
Violet pulled her hand away, a shiver racing down her spine.
Who was Lady Lilly? Why had she fled? Why did the name seem so familiar?
Stuart’s mother’s name had been Margaret.
She had met a terrible end in the lake outside.
Perhaps she had not been the only one? Had the duke been married previously?
All these questions raced around in her mind.
“Lady Sommerset, perhaps you should go upstairs? I will ensure that your strawberries are used for dessert tonight,” Mrs. Wells said.
Violet turned to the housekeeper. “Thank you, Mrs. Wells. Yes, I will head up to my suite.”
The following morning, she joined the duke for services.
The church on the estate was very old, at least three hundred years.
It and the village had been here long before the Dukes of Lavensham were granted all the surrounding land by King James I.
Violet thought it was one of the prettiest places on the estate.
The crumbling graveyard shaded by enormous ancient oak trees was a testament to the history of the area.
They walked through dappled sunlight to enter the stone church.
The tall arched ceiling of the sanctuary whispered of all the old secrets and timeless prayers it had kept safe for hundreds of years.
The service was blessedly short. Violet spent much of it worrying that some terrible accident had befallen Rhys on the road.
Accidents were common, and the roads were terrible.
What if his horse had thrown a shoe? Or stepped into a hole and broken a leg?