Chapter 8
“Here we are,” the duke said as the carriage turned toward a large estate. “Greystone Manor.”
It was aptly named, Bridget thought, staring up at the cold facade.
The front of the building was entirely gray stone, and she wondered whether that had been done deliberately or if it was mere coincidence.
The grounds were vast, extending beyond what she could see from where she sat.
This place made her father’s estate look tiny and humble by comparison, and even the relatively large Desford Estate, where Prudence lived with her husband, was dwarfed.
The carriage pulled to a halt. The door was opened by a footman, who waited for the duke to disembark and then turned his attention to Bridget.
She allowed herself to be handed down, feeling a sense of the surreal.
It had been a long time since she had been treated like a lady.
Living and working at the orphanage meant forgoing the life of the noble classes.
She’d been happy to do it. Her work meant a great deal to her.
But at the same time, there was something comforting about being back among this sort of scene. It felt like being cared for.
I can’t allow myself to fall for it, though, because I’m not being cared for.
Not really. I’m surrounded by luxury and privilege, yes, but I am not a priority for the duke.
It won’t be any different than it was when I was with my family.
Nothing bad will happen to me, but no one here actually cares what does happen. I need to watch out for myself.
Emma was helped down out of the carriage last, and she hurried to Bridget’s side and embraced her, looking up at her with wide eyes.
“Welcome home,” Bridget said softly. “I’ll be here with you for a while. Will that be nice?”
Emma nodded slowly. Bridget had the feeling the girl wasn’t sure whether or not to trust what was happening. She kept her hand gently but firmly on Emma’s shoulder. If anyone tried to separate the two of them, she’d put a stop to it.
But the duke, for the moment, seemed to have no intention of separating them. He was watching the door to the manor, and after a moment, Bridget understood why. The door was opening, and a woman came hurrying out.
She could only be the duke’s sister. They looked so much alike. She was nearly as tall as he was, with the same dark hair and bright green eyes. She was an older version of Emma. And upon seeing her, Emma finally let go of Bridget’s hand and flung herself into the newcomer’s arms.
“Darling!” the woman exclaimed. “You’re home!
I was so worried. When we heard you were at an orphanage, I thought I was going to faint from worry, but your father was out the door in a moment, and I knew he would bring you home safely.
He would have moved heaven and earth to get you back here.
Are you all right?” She held Emma at arm’s length and looked her up and down.
“A little dirty, but not too much worse for wear. We’re going to make your favorite foods for dinner, and your bed is waiting for you—I’ll bet you can’t wait to be back in your own room. ”
“Don’t overwhelm her, Agnes,” the duke said.
Agnes released Emma. Emma didn’t exactly flee her aunt, but she did take a step closer to Bridget.
She looked up at her, and Bridget rested her hand on Emma’s shoulder again.
She sensed Emma had shocked herself by moving too quickly, and that she was now doubting her eager jump into her aunt’s arms. The best thing would be to reassure her that she still had Bridget as a place of safety.
Now Agnes registered Bridget’s presence. “Welcome,” she said. “I’m Agnes Langford.”
“Bridget Wetherby,” Bridget said.
“A pleasure to meet you.” Agnes turned to her brother. “You didn’t tell me that you were going to get married while you were out on the road, Reeves.”
Heat flooded Bridget’s face, even though she could see that Agnes was smiling and that it was obviously a joke.
“Of course I didn’t get married,” the duke said gruffly. “Miss Wetherby here is from the orphanage and has been caring for Emma. As you can see, they’ve… formed a bond. She insisted on coming back with me.”
“Oh, and you couldn’t say no?” Agnes looked at Bridget. “Don’t worry. I don’t believe a word of this. I know my brother didn’t bring you back here against his will. I can’t remember a time he did anything against his will.”
Bridget found herself smiling. “It was his idea,” she said. “Though I won’t deny I didn’t want to leave Emma. It’s true that the two of us bonded.”
“I can tell there’s a connection between you,” Agnes agreed. “Well, why don’t you come inside? It’s far too cold to be standing around out here, and the sky is so gray. I think it might be about to snow.”
Emma’s head perked up ever so slightly at those words.
Bridget looked down at her. “Do you like the snow?”
Emma nodded.
“So did I when I was your age,” Bridget said. “Actually, I still like it quite a lot now, but when I was young, I loved it even more.”
Emma beamed at her, though she still didn’t say anything. A part of Bridget had held out hope that their arrival at Greystone would open Emma up. That being home would make her feel at ease enough to speak again. That didn’t seem to be happening, unfortunately.
Agnes’ brow furrowed. She’d clearly noticed Emma’s silence. But she decided not to comment on it, and Bridget felt a powerful surge of gratitude. Here was someone who understood what Emma needed.
Agnes returned her gaze to Bridget. “Am I to take it that you’re going to be staying with us for a while?” she asked.
“That’s right,” Bridget said, summoning her courage. It wasn’t nearly as difficult with Agnes as it had been with her brother. “Until Emma settles in a bit. She’s been through a lot and has gotten used to having me for company.”
“Then we’ll be glad to have you too, of course,” Agnes said. “Reeves, what room are you going to put her in?”
“I don’t know,” the duke said. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Well, you have to think about it,” Agnes said. “What about the blue room? That’s near enough to Emma that she’ll be able to help her in the night if Emma needs something.”
She was clearly envisioning Bridget’s role here as something like that of a governess, which was probably the closest thing to accurate. Bridget glanced at the duke to see what he was making of it.
He shrugged. “The blue room is fine,” he said. ‘I’m sure she’ll be comfortable there.”
He made no move to take Bridget into the house, though, and Agnes gave him an exasperated look. “Why don’t you come with me, Miss Wetherby?” she said. “I’ll show you to the blue room.”
Bridget looked down at Emma. “Is that all right?” she asked. “I’ll see you soon enough.”
Emma released her and nodded. She looked wary, her eyes flitting around as if she wondered whether something was going to jump out at her, but she didn’t look terrified. It was enough to give Bridget confidence that it would be all right to leave her alone.
“My bag is still in the carriage,” she told Agnes.
“That’s all right. One of the footmen will bring it up for you.”
Bridget nodded. Of course they would. It had been so long since she’d been waited on that it was no longer second nature to her to expect such a thing, but a moment’s thought reminded her that that was how things would be.
She had fended for herself at the orphanage, but now that she was here, she wouldn’t have to.
To her surprise, it made her a little uncomfortable.
She had gotten used to taking care of herself, to not needing anyone else, and it was odd now to realize that she would be relying on other people.
She almost turned back and insisted on getting her own bag and bringing it up herself, but in the end, she decided against it.
Better to try to blend in with the surroundings in which she found herself than to act in ways that would stand out.
She followed Agnes into the house and up the wide staircase that led to the second floor. The hallway here overlooked the first floor, running around the foyer in a square before branching off into smaller hallways. Agnes led Bridget down one of these branches.
“It will be wonderful to have you here, Miss Wetherby,” she said. “It’s been a long time since any new life came into this house.”
“Oh, you can call me Bridget,” Bridget said. She hadn’t heard Miss Wetherby in a very long time, and it felt unnatural. “And I’m glad to be here, truly. I’ve become very fond of Emma, even though I haven’t known her for that long a time.”
“I’m so eager to hear what happened,” Agnes said, her voice lowering slightly. “I’m sure you can imagine how worried we’ve been since she disappeared.”
“To tell you the truth, I’m hoping to get a little more detail myself,” Bridget said. “I have no idea how she came to be in our kitchen, and I’d like to find out. Something must have happened to separate her from her father.”
“She’s been missing for three weeks,” Agnes said. “We’ve been beside ourselves.”
“Three weeks?” Bridget frowned. “I only had her for a little over one. I wonder where else she was, in the meantime.”
“That’s concerning,” Agnes agreed. “You really don’t know anything?”
“She hasn’t spoken since I found her,” Bridget said.
“I did notice she was unusually quiet. Usually, she chatters on so much you can’t get a word in.” Agnes sighed. “Whatever happened must have affected her very strongly, the poor thing. Well, this is you.”
She opened a door.
The so-called blue room was more white than blue.
The walls were pale blue, and the bed coverings were embroidered with blue flowers, but the furnishings were white, and so were the curtains.
What really got Bridget’s attention was how large the room was.
It was much bigger than the tiny space she’d had at the orphanage, of course—she had expected that.
But it was also larger than the room she’d had at her parents’ house.
She looked at Agnes. “All of this is for me? Are you sure? I really don’t need this much space.”
“This isn’t the biggest room in the manor,” Agnes said with a smile. “It was chosen for you because it’s the closest to where Emma sleeps, and I can already see that having you near her is something we want to prioritize.”
“That’s true,” Bridget said. If that were the reason, she could accept the big room, even though it was more space than she knew what to do with. “Will you show me how to get to Emma’s room from here?”
“Of course,” Agnes said. “And after that, I’m sure you could use a bit of quiet and some space to unpack your things?”
“That would be lovely,” Bridget said, realizing that she hadn’t been on her own for any real length of time since leaving the orphanage.
This was going to be difficult. But she was determined to do all she could to help Emma, and if that meant integrating herself into life at Greystone Manor, she was intent on doing just that. Having Agnes here would make it easier, at least.
But even so, she couldn’t help feeling worried about living with the Duke of Greystone. What was he going to expect of her?
And how was she going to balance taking care of his daughter with the fact that she found him so distractingly, devastatingly handsome?