Pretty Little Lies for the Duke's Heart

by Leah Conolly

  As each day passed, however, she thought more seriously about explaining everything to Duncan. Apart from Ruth, she had not met anyone she trusted as much as him in many years, and, if she were honest with herself, keeping such a big secret was weighing terribly on her. She had trouble sleeping, her appetite was beginning to suffer, and she knew it would not be long before Duncan noticed and asked questions.

  She desperately wanted to tell him, especially since he had been making such an effort to be better acquainted with her. Just because she had initially lied to him did not mean that she had to spin a large web of stories to go along with it. False memories, nonexistent relationships, and childhood experiences that were not hers did not have to further complicate her situation. But his growing interest was slowly chipping away at her resolve to keep her secret.

  Only her fear stopped her each time she considered confiding the truth to him. He was kind to her as things were, and she believed that there was a mutual attraction forming between them. What if that changed? What if he was so upset with her for lying to him that he sent her away? What if he took her back to her father?

  If Duncan did that, her father would certainly see to it that she boarded a ship to France, even if he had to send a personal escort to ensure that she was delivered directly to the Comte. Despite her troubled conscience and growing desire to tell Duncan everything, she could not risk that. No, she knew that she must keep the secret a little while longer. She would wait until the time was right to tell him.

  * * *

  Helena Lancaster quickly became a daily fixture in Charlotte’s life. It seemed that she was almost always there when Charlotte arrived for work, and it was rare that the cruel woman left before Charlotte did. Charlotte learned quickly to avoid her. For reasons completely unknown, Helena always looked at her with a sneer or glare.

  One day, however, Charlotte was startled to find Helena waiting for her when she entered Duncan’s study. Duncan had left early that morning for a business meeting and was not scheduled to return until midafternoon. Charlotte did her best to hide her surprise and put on her most pleasant smile.

  “Good morning, my lady,” she said.

  Helena scowled at her.

  “Where is my son?” she asked. “Did he go out of town again and once more neglect to tell me?”

  Charlotte squared her shoulders. She was determined not to let the woman intimidate her.

  “He is at a meeting,” she said curtly. “It should only be a few hours more. Then he will be returning home.”

  “Very well,” Helena said, taking a seat behind Duncan’s desk. “I will wait here for him.”

  Charlotte tightened her jaw.

  “Forgive me, my lady,” she said, trying to swallow her anger, “but I am tasked with cleaning and organizing the study for Lord Willeton. If you would like, I can have the servants bring you tea in the drawing room, and you can wait for him there.”

  Helena gave a dry cackle.

  “Perhaps if you did your job properly, you would not need to tidy Duncan’s study every single day,” she said. “I shall wait for my son to return wherever I wish. This is his house, not yours.”

  Charlotte put her hands together in front of her.

  “You are correct,” she said. “This is, indeed, Lord Willeton’s house.”

  “I am his mother,” Helena hissed. “And you are an impudent little servant girl who has no business presuming to tell me what to do. You certainly have no business knowing so much about Duncan’s business affairs.”

  “To keep things like my appointments and paperwork in order, she must know about my meetings and business trips, Mother,” Duncan’s voice drifted in from the study doorway.

  Charlotte felt faint with relief. Helena, however, appeared irate. Rather than address her son, she looked at Christine with a snide expression.

  “I thought you said he was in his meeting until this afternoon,” she snapped.

  Duncan slowly entered the room, moving to stand beside Charlotte, but never taking his eyes off his mother.

  “We finished early,” he said, offering nothing else in the way of an explanation. “What, precisely, is going on here?”

  Helena sniffed.

  “I was just ensuring that your little servant here understands her place,” she said, glaring hatefully at Charlotte.

  Duncan turned his back on his mother to look at Charlotte.

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  Charlotte gave him her best smile, still feeling the anger flushing her cheeks.

  “Yes,” she said. “I am alright.”

  Helena gave a dry laugh.

  “Your mother is here to see you,” she said. “Yet you come in to check on a maid?”

  Duncan turned quickly and approached his mother.

  “She is no maid,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “She is my personal assistant, and you have no right to speak to her in such a fashion.”

  “She has no right to be so insubordinate,” Helena retorted.

  Duncan smirked at his mother.

  “She is not at all insubordinate, Mother,” he said. “Indeed, she goes above and beyond all that I ask of her.”

  Helena chuckled.

  “Yes,” she said, giving Charlotte a cold, knowing look. “I imagine she does.”

  Duncan put his hands behind his back, balling them into fists. He stepped closer still to his mother, his eyes smoldering.

  “I do not like what you are implying. Rest assured it is out of line,” he said. “Miss Becker is a model employee, and I am sure that anything she said to you was the direct result of your behavior towards her.”

  “She presumed to tell me that I could not await your return in your study,” Helena said, lifting her head, as though she believed that explained everything.

  Duncan nodded.

  “She was right to say so,” he said. “It is part of her job to tidy up in here, and she cannot do that if the study is occupied.”

  “Why?” Helena asked snidely. “Is she afraid that I will catch her shirking her duties?”

  Charlotte moved her gaze to the floor, not out of shame, but out of rage. How dare this woman say such things to and about her? It was not Charlotte’s true social status that upset her about Helena’s heinous behavior and insulting words.

  It was that the woman would dare to speak to anyone at all in such a manner. She even seemed content to speak to her son in the same way, and Charlotte found that upset her even more than the way Helena was treating her. She wanted to speak on her own behalf, so that Duncan would not incur more of his mother’s cruelty, but she remained silent. She doubted that her interference would do anything other than worsen the situation, and she did not want to risk upsetting Duncan.

  “Mother,” Duncan said, his teeth beginning to clench. “Miss Becker is an employee. A highly skilled and valued one. Furthermore, she is my employee, not yours. She is certainly not a slave that you can treat in this way. I demand that you stop at once.”

  Helena huffed.

  “You will not tell me what I will and will not do,” she said. “I am your mother.”

  “And this is my home,” Duncan retorted. “And in my home, you will respect my wishes.”

  “Then I would advise you to teach your employees some respect,” Helena hissed.

  “If that is all, Mother, I am afraid that I must ask you to excuse me,” he said. “I have some paperwork that I must finish before tomorrow morning.”

  Helena’s eyes widened.

  “You are asking me to leave?” she asked, incredulous.

  Duncan began to usher her toward the study door.

  “We will speak again tomorrow, I am sure,” he said. “For now, I must get back to work.”

  Helena glared back and forth between Charlotte and Duncan. At last, with a final huff, she stormed off down the hall. When the front door closed loudly, Charlotte knew the awful woman had gone. Duncan turned back to Charlotte, his brows furrowed deeply.

&n
bsp; “Are you alright?” he repeated.

  Charlotte pushed back her anger and gave him a reassuring smile.

  “Yes, my lord,” she said. “I am fine.”

  Duncan shook his head and ran his hand through his beautiful blond hair.

  “I do apologize,” he said. “Though I do not know if any apology I could ever give would make amends for my mother’s conduct.”

  Charlotte smiled again, looking Duncan in the eyes.

  “Thank you for defending me,” she said.

  Duncan looked at Charlotte, smiling at last.

  “You deserved to be defended,” he said. “My mother far overstepped her boundaries. She must realize that she cannot speak to people in that way.”

  Charlotte nodded.

  “I do not wish to be a source of discontent between you and your mother,” she said. “It really is alright. I can simply ignore and avoid her from now on.”

  Duncan shook his head emphatically.

  “I will not have my employees hiding or feeling uncomfortable in my home,” he said. “Especially you.”

  Charlotte’s heart began to pound.

  Duncan seemed to sense that he had said something that made an impression, and smiled.

  “You do not deserve to be spoken to that way by my mother,” he said. “Nor do any of my other employees. She has no right to come in here and behave that way.” Duncan took a step toward Charlotte and smiled warmly. “Do not worry,” he said. “I will ensure that she never troubles you again.

  Unfortunately, however, things only got worse with Helena Lancaster. She rarely spoke to Charlotte in Duncan’s presence, but when Duncan was not there, she was venomous towards her. One afternoon she brushed past Charlotte while she was carrying a tray with empty teacups to the kitchen. Charlotte avoided her gaze and tried to quickly move past the woman, but at the last moment, Helena stepped in her path, causing the tray to hit the tall, severe woman and the cups to crash to the floor and shatter. Helena smirked.

  “Clumsy fool,” she murmured. “You best clean that up.”

  Charlotte continued to ignore the woman, moving to get what she needed to clean up the shattered china. She knew that she would have to tell Duncan what had happened, but she dreaded it. She did not wish to upset him with further news of his mother’s terrible behavior, and she did not want Helena to become even worse. With a sigh, Charlotte got to work cleaning up the porcelain shards.

  Chapter 10

  “Good morning, Duncan,” his mother said.

  Duncan shuddered. The false pleasantness in her voice did nothing to mask its underlying bitterness. As expected, she arrived at about the same time Christine would have, had she been coming in that day. Duncan had cleared his schedule just in case she appeared. He was determined to speak to his mother without interruption so that she would be forced to listen.

  “We must speak, Mother,” he said.

  Helena looked around.

  “Where is your servant girl?” she asked. “She can bring us some tea.”

  Duncan clenched his jaw, ignoring his mother’s question.

  “Come into the study with me,” he said.

  Helena looked flustered at Duncan’s assertiveness, but she followed him into the study. Once inside, Duncan closed the door behind them. He gestured wordlessly for his mother to sit, while he opted to stand beside his desk. He was too angry to sit, and he wanted his mother to know he was serious about what he was about to say.

  “Is your little employee late for work today?” Helena asked, her eyes gleaming with smugness.

  “I gave her the day off, Mother,” Duncan said. “Though I hardly see how that is any of your concern.”

  Helena cackled.

  “Did she at last become too troublesome for you?” she asked.

  Duncan glared at his mother.

  “We are not here to discuss Miss Becker,” he said, his voice low and angry. “We are here to discuss your behavior.”

  Helena’s eyes widened.

  “My behavior?” she echoed. “What is it that I have done?”

  Duncan resisted the urge to slam his hand down on his desk.

  “You know very well what it is that you are doing,” he said.

  Helena pretended to study one of her gloved hands.

  “I am sure I have no idea what you are talking about,” she said.

  “Mother, don’t,” Duncan said. “You cannot keep coming here and treating my workers any way you please.”

  Helena laughed.

  “Darling, you are getting too worked up over mere servants,” she said. “Especially that silly little fool, Miss Beckner. Poor thing doesn’t even know what a proper wardrobe is.”

  Duncan took a step toward his mother.

  “Her name is Miss Becker,” he hissed. “And I am certain you know that.”

  Helena waved her hand dismissively, but Duncan would not be deterred.

  “You will cease tormenting her, effective immediately,” he continued.

  Helena laughed.

  “And if I do not?” she challenged.

  Duncan smirked.

  “Then you will no longer be welcome in my home,” he said.

  Helena’s eyes grew wide.

  “You will not ban me from your home,” she said. “I am an integral part of many of your business dealings.”

  Duncan shook his head.

  “Your name is on the assets that belonged to Father,” he said, “but you have no direct dealings in any of my business ventures.”

  Helena rose from her seat, nearly toppling it over.

  “I am your mother,” she said. “Your affairs involve me every bit as much as they do you.”

  Duncan glared at his mother again.

  “No, they do not,” he said. “And I will thank you to stop trying to get so involved with them. My ventures are mine alone, and you have no right to inject yourself into them.”

  Helena put her hands on her hips.

  “You dare speak to me the way you should be speaking to that little servant girl of yours?” she asked.

  Duncan shrugged.

  “It would seem that you are far less deserving of my respect at the moment than she is,” he said.

  Helena strode toward her son, stopping inches from his face.

  “You will never again say such things to me,” she hissed. Then she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I can see that you are very cross today. I will return tomorrow and hope to see that your disposition has improved.”

  Duncan shook his head again.

  “That is another thing,” he said. “You will stop coming by every single day. Two days per week is more than sufficient for you and me to discuss the business we have together.”

  Helena’s rage returned.

  “I will come here any time I wish,” she said, her voice rising.

  Duncan nodded.

  “I cannot stop you from making the trip here,” he said. “But I can deny you entry, except on the days I have agreed to your visit.”

  Helena trembled, her pale cheeks flushed. It was clear that there were many more things she wished to say. After a tense moment, however, she simply turned on her heel and hurried toward the door. Before she left the room, she glanced at Duncan over her shoulder.

  “This is not over, Duncan,” she said, her voice menacing and sharp. Then she stormed out of the front door.

  Duncan waited until he heard a departing carriage before letting out a sigh. His mother had never been known for her kindness, but it seemed that she was much crueler and colder of late than he had ever known her to be. Duncan was not sure what it all meant, but he knew that his mother was fast becoming a source of great trouble. He felt justified in what he had said to her, and he intended to stick to it.

  However, his mother had given Duncan an idea. It had not occurred to him previously, but part of Christine’s reluctance to attend the ball with him could well be, at least in part, because of her inadequate wardrobe. If, however, she had a few n
ice dresses, she might feel more confident, and be more willing to attend social events with him.

  He called his butler and arranged for two servants to go into town and buy Christine an assortment of dresses. He regretted that he had to do this task without having a dressmaker measure her, but he was worried that, if she knew in advance what he had planned, she would not only reject his offer, but she would storm away, her pride wounded. He would just have to hope he guessed the right sizes.