Pretty Little Lies for the Duke's Heart

by Leah Conolly

  “My name is Helena Lancaster, not “Lord Willeton’s mother”, she said coldly. “And I will see my son. Now.”

  Charlotte clenched her teeth. The woman’s harsh attitude was making her blood hot, but she knew she was in no position to lose her temper. Instead, she gave another curtsy and smiled.

  “My apologies, my lady,” she said, cursing herself for the flush that the woman’s insolence brought to her cheeks. “Lord Willeton is away at the moment.”

  The woman put her hands on her hips and glared at Charlotte.

  “When is he expected to return?” she asked.

  Charlotte did her best to keep her smile in place. She clasped her hands behind her back to prevent herself from balling them into fists.

  “He should return later this evening,” she said. “May I take a message for you?”

  Helena narrowed her eyes, surveying Charlotte with unabashed, disdainful scrutiny.

  “How do you know so much about my son’s business, when I knew nothing of this trip?” she asked. “Precisely who are you?”

  Charlotte’s blood froze. It had proven difficult enough to lie to Duncan, and he was very gentle and understanding. This woman could be the undoing of everything she had worked so hard to attain, for both her and Ruth. It angered her that the woman felt entitled to know so much about her son’s affairs and those of a complete stranger. However, Charlotte knew that evading the woman’s inquiry could prove more damning than anything she said.

  She squared her shoulders and met the woman’s gaze firmly.

  “My name is Christine Becker,” she said slowly, trying not to sound as nervous as she felt. “Lord Willeton has hired me to help him with some of his business affairs.”

  Helena stared at her, her expression cold and calculating.

  “Your name is unfamiliar to me,” she said. “How did you meet my son?”

  Charlotte’s heart stopped. She had never considered creating a story about how she and Ruth had met Duncan. She could hardly tell her the truth, but she was at a complete loss for an explanation.

  “Miss Becker?” a soft voice called from the doorway.

  Charlotte looked up, nearly fainting with relief when she saw Ruth standing there.

  “Yes, Ruthie?” she asked.

  “I need your assistance downstairs in the library, if you have a moment,” she said, looking back and forth between the pale, dark-haired woman and Charlotte.

  “Of course, Ruthie,” she said, confidence returning to her voice. “I will be there directly.”

  Helena put her hands on her hips, looking angrier than before.

  “Well,” she huffed. “I had no idea my son was so busy hiring extra help.”

  Instead of replying, Charlotte brushed past the woman and headed for the door. When she reached it, she turned on her heels, grateful that her face was set more firmly than she felt.

  “Please, excuse me,” she said. “I must return to my duties. I will be sure to let Lord Willeton know that you came seeking him.”

  Without waiting for a response, Charlotte walked out of the room and followed Ruth to the library.

  Once inside, Ruth closed the door behind them. She led Charlotte to the open window on the other side of the room and took her hands.

  “Thank you, Ruth,” Charlotte said, squeezing her maid’s hands.

  “Who was that?” Ruth asked, keeping her voice low.

  Charlotte frowned.

  “Lord Willeton’s mother, it would seem,” she said.

  “What happened?” Ruth asked, her face slowly losing color.

  Charlotte briefly explained her encounter with the cold woman, and Ruth listened with growing horror.

  “You do not think that she suspects something, do you?” Ruth asked.

  Charlotte shook her head.

  “She could not possibly,” she said. “She only just saw us today, but she is a rather harsh and severe woman, and she did not seem pleased that we are here.”

  Ruth shook her head slowly, still looking fearful.

  “I am sure that she is just an overprotective mother,” Charlotte said, trying to reassure Ruth.

  At last Ruth nodded, and her face relaxed marginally.

  “I am sure that you are right,” she said.

  Charlotte smiled.

  The two women exited the room. Charlotte was relieved to hear a carriage pulling away from the house, but she tiptoed up the stairs, nonetheless.

  Sure enough, when she reached the study door, the woman was gone. She breathed a sigh of relief and quickly rushed into the room to pick up the stack of papers she had dropped and finish organizing the rest of the paperwork on the desk. However, she could not help worrying that Helena would create trouble for her and Ruth. All they could do was hope that Helena Lancaster would soon forget all about them, and that they would never see her again.

  Chapter 8

  The days that Duncan spent away from the house seemed to drag. He had never found it so difficult to concentrate on his business dealings, especially ones that were important enough to require him to be gone from home for more than a few hours.

  His thoughts revolved around Christine, and it was a miracle that he managed to complete the meetings and gain the new partnerships he had been seeking. When, at last, all business was completed, he made hasty work of the handshakes and partings before rushing out of the gentleman’s club to board his waiting coach.

  Duncan found himself quite anxious on the carriage ride home that evening. Time seemed to pass at half speed as he anticipated seeing Christine. He had missed her a great deal more than he had expected, even though he had only been gone for a couple of days. There was something about her that drew him to her, and he very much looked forward to seeing her again.

  Duncan hardly waited for the coach to come to a complete stop before he disembarked. He leapt from the carriage and rushed to the front door, straightening his jacket. He opened the door, and, without waiting for the butler to greet him, made his way into his study.

  To his dismay, Christine was not inside. He looked at his watch and saw that she would be preparing to leave for her room at the inn within the next half hour. He raced back down the stairs, nearly running into her, as he pushed off the last stair and turned to start down the hallway.

  “Oh,” he said, trying to hide his surprise. “Please, forgive me, Miss Becker.”

  Christine smiled and blushed.

  “Not at all, my lord,” she said. “How was your trip? I hope all went well.”

  Duncan waved his hand. He was too thrilled to see her to spend the time they had left that evening discussing such trivialities.

  “It went quite well, thank you,” he said. “How were things here?”

  Christine nodded.

  “I separated your more recent mail from the rest, and all the mail in general from the rest of your paperwork. I also put some books that were lying around your office back on the shelves. I hope you do not mind.”

  Duncan laughed.

  “Quite the contrary, Miss Becker,” he said. “I appreciate your work a great deal.”

  Christine blushed. Then, she gasped softly.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said. “Your mother came looking for you.”

  Duncan’s face fell at once. He knew how cold and severe his mother could be, and he hoped that she had not been too harsh with Christine.

  “Did she?” he asked. “Did she mention why she was seeking me?”

  Christine shook her head, her face paling.

  “She made it perfectly clear that she had no desire to convey her message through me. She said that she would return soon to speak with you personally.”

  Duncan tightened his jaw, cursing himself for having forgotten to tell his mother that he would be away on business.

  “I do hope that she was not too troublesome,” he said.

  Christine gave him a small smile, but she averted her gaze. Duncan felt his anger rise. Her reaction told him all he needed to know, an
d he vowed to speak with his mother about coming into his home and intimidating his employees. Especially Christine.

  “I suppose she was just surprised to see a new face when she arrived,” Christine said, her voice sounding anything but certain. Duncan’s heart jumped as he watched her attempt to defend his mother.

  “She has a certain cold way with people,” he said. “Please, do not take her behavior personally.”

  Christine smiled, more genuinely this time.

  “I have braved far worse, my lord,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

  Duncan smiled, thinking again of the day they met.

  “I suppose you have,” he said. The chiming of the clock reminded him that Christine’s duties were concluded for the day, and his heart sank. He thought quickly.

  “Before you leave,” he said. “Won’t you join me for tea?”

  To Duncan’s pleasant surprise, Christine brightened.

  “I would love to,” she said.

  Duncan led the way into the drawing room and called for one of the servants to fetch some tea and cakes.

  “Well,” Duncan said. “How do you like your work so far?”

  Christine beamed.

  “I love it, my lord,” she said. “It is good to keep myself busy, and you are a most gracious and courteous employer.”

  Duncan laughed.

  “I am glad to hear it,” he said. “I trust that you will let me know if there is ever anything else I can do to keep things running smoothly for you?”

  Christine shook her head.

  “You have already done so much, for both Ruthie and me,” she said. “I cannot think of a single thing we could possibly need.”

  Duncan shrugged.

  “I want to ensure that my employees have everything they need at all times,” he said. “Their happiness and satisfaction are a priority for me.” He looked at Christine with a meaningful expression. “I want you all to be able to trust me, with anything. No matter what.”

  Christine’s flush returned, and she looked down at her hands.

  “You are most gracious,” she repeated. “I will keep that in mind.”

  Duncan nodded, satisfied.

  “Very good,” he said.

  The tea and cakes arrived, and they partook of them in silence for a few moments.

  “Thank you very much for inviting me for tea, my lord,” she said.

  Duncan put down his cup of tea and looked at Christine.

  “I must confess that I did not invite you to tea merely to be polite,” he said.

  Christine’s eyes widened, and she hastily put down her own cup.

  “Oh?” she asked. Duncan wondered at the worry that had begun to crease her face.

  “I also asked you to join me this evening because I have another invitation that I would like to extend to you,” he said, feeling his own cheeks warm.

  Christine blinked, her face relaxing and her eyes growing curious.

  “Another invitation?” she asked. “I do not understand. What more could you wish to offer, after you have already been more than generous?”

  Duncan smiled. Her humble nature impressed him every bit as much as her work ethic.

  “An invitation of a social nature,” he said.

  Christine looked at him with intrigue and something else that Duncan could not quite pinpoint.

  “There is a ball in about a week. Before I answer the invitation, I wanted to ask you if you would attend with me.”

  Christine gasped and put her hand over her mouth.

  “A ball?” she asked. “Who is hosting it?”

  Duncan looked at Christine, puzzled.

  “I thought you had no friends in the ton,” he said.

  Christine picked up her cup and took a sip of her tea. Duncan suspected that it was to avoid his gaze.

  “More like acquaintances,” she said. “I met many people through my father, but I cannot say that I was particularly close to any of them.”

  Duncan nodded, remembering that her father was a baron. He considered her question for a moment.

  “I cannot recall who sent the invitation at the moment,” he admitted, embarrassed. He often received so many invitations at once that he could not keep the particulars straight. That would be part of Christine’s job, helping him to keep those affairs organized. “I can fetch the invitation, if you like.”

  Christine shook her head.

  “I was just curious as to whether it was a name I recognized,” she said quietly. “Truthfully, it matters little. I am afraid that I must respectfully decline your invitation.”

  Duncan’s heart sank. He wanted very much to spend more time with Christine outside of her workday.

  “I know that ton balls can be a bit stiff,” he said quickly, “but attending with someone whose company you enjoy can make them bearable. Often, even enjoyable.”

  Christine looked at him and smiled, the blush returning to her cheeks.

  “The Duke of Willeton thinks balls are stiff?” she asked, her voice carrying a teasing lilt.

  Duncan laughed, enjoying the change in her mood.

  “Most often, yes,” he said. “Please, do not tell anyone.”

  Christine nodded knowingly, her eyes sparkling.

  “Your secret is safe with me, my lord,” she said.

  Duncan chuckled again.

  “Have you ever attended one?” he asked.

  Christine nodded.

  “I attended one,” she said. She seemed to slip into deep thought for a moment. “You are right. It was not much fun.”

  Duncan gave her his most charming smile.

  “You should attend this one with me,” he said. “I am sure that it would not be so boring for you.”

  Christine gave him a small smile.

  “I have no doubt that you would be wonderful company, my lord,” she said. “I am afraid, however, that I do not belong at any balls.”

  Duncan frowned. Did she really think so little of herself, just because of her father’s title? Or had her father made her feel that way? More than ever, Duncan wanted to know more about Christine, but he did not wish to press her further just then.

  “I believe that you have every right to attend a ball,” he said. “You most certainly do if you have been formally invited.”

  “I have not been formally invited,” she said, her flush deepening.

  Duncan smiled sadly. Something was making her uncomfortable, and he desperately wished that he knew what it was.

  “What do you think it is that I am doing?” he asked, his voice reassuring. “I am extending you a formal invitation, as a guest who received an invitation and permission to bring someone to accompany me if I wish.”

  Realization dawned on Christine’s face, and she looked at him with widened eyes.

  “My lord, that is very kind of you, indeed,” she said. “But I really have no place in high society, and certainly not at this ball.” She rose quickly and gathered her coat. “I am sorry, but I really must go. Ruthie will be waiting for me.”

  Before he could say anything else, Christine quickly excused herself and rushed from the room. Despite how desperately he wanted to chase after her, he did not want to embarrass or upset her any further. He did not understand her hesitance, nor her instance on not belonging at society events. She was certainly beautiful enough, and he would gladly defend her to anyone who had anything to say about her being a professional woman.

  With great disappointment, Duncan decided that he would not press the issue with her further. If she did not wish to attend the ball, he would not keep asking her, but he could not bring himself to give up. The more time he spent with Christine, the more time he wanted to spend with her. He vowed he would not give up his pursuit until she agreed to spend time with him outside of their work arrangement.

  Chapter 9

  Charlotte found herself warming more to Duncan every day, and she knew that he was beginning to like her, too. She had spent a great deal of time thinking about his invitation
to the ball, and she regretted having to turn him down. The truth was, she would have relished attending a ball with him. However, with her identity still secret, and with the likelihood that she would encounter someone who knew her, it was a risk she could not take. Especially since she had still been unable to tell Duncan who she really was.