Pretty Little Lies for the Duke's Heart

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Pretty Little Lies for the Duke's Heart Page 12

by Leah Conolly


  “Well, I am far from the only blonde-haired woman in the ton,” she said.

  Helena’s smirk did not fade this time, and Charlotte felt her unease return.

  “Perhaps,” she said. “But that does not explain how so many people are sure that they have seen you at society balls over the last couple of years?”

  Charlotte felt as though the floor suddenly vanished from beneath her. Whoever Helena had spoken to must have seen her at the theater. If they mentioned seeing her at balls, what else had they said?

  “They must have me confused with someone else,” Charlotte said, trying to remain strong and unfazed, despite her increasing light-headedness.

  Helena studied her silently for a moment, and Charlotte held her breath. She could only hope that this was Helena’s only information, and that the conversation would end soon.

  “Something tells me that is not the case, though,” Helena said. “In fact, I am certain of it.”

  Charlotte walked over to the window, turning her back on the woman. She could not let Helena see how deeply her words upset her.

  “I should think that I would know better than anyone who I am,” Charlotte said.

  Helena laughed heartily.

  “That is precisely my point, dear,” she said. “I believe that you know who you are. I do not, however, believe that Duncan does.”

  Charlotte closed her eyes, cursing herself for her poor choice of words. She took several deep breaths and tried to allow the sunlight coming in through the window to calm and soothe her. Whatever else Helena had to say to her, she would hear it without any kind of response. She needed the woman to leave her alone, even if she had to anger her to make that happen.

  “Duncan has let you into his life,” Helena continued. “He has become attached to you, for whatever reason, and he would be devastated to find that you were playing some sort of hoax on him.”

  Charlotte did not move, but her stomach lurched. She felt tears stinging her eyes, and she fought an intense wave of nausea.

  Just then, Duncan walked into the room. Charlotte had to put her hand on the window to keep herself from collapsing with relief. He looked at his mother and then back at her. He walked straight to her side, without addressing his mother, and smiled.

  “The doctor will be here within the hour,” Duncan said, looking back and forth between Charlotte and his mother. “Would you like to join me in the drawing room to await his arrival?”

  “No,” Charlotte said firmly. “I would like to go back to the inn now, my lord.”

  Duncan took a deep breath, and Charlotte knew he intended to protest, but she had to get away from Helena before the stress of the woman’s interrogation caused her faint in front of them both. She lifted her head and squared her shoulders, looking as tough and determined as she possibly could.

  At last, Duncan sighed. He cast a dark look at his mother, then turned back to Charlotte.

  “Very well,” he said. “We will leave at once.”

  Chapter 16

  Duncan gave Christine a few moments to gather her belongings. He called for one of the servants to tidy up the bedroom in which she had been staying, as he waited for her to be ready to leave. He was aware of his mother following closely behind him as he left Christine’s room, but he was determined to ignore her. Helena, however, would not be so easily dismissed. When Duncan refused to turn and address her, she put her hand on his shoulder. Duncan took a sharp turn, effectively yanking his arm away from her. When that failed, Helena maneuvered herself around Duncan and blocked his path. Furious, and in no mood to play games with his mother, he stopped and glared at her.

  “Mother,” he said, not bothering to feign any semblance of civility. “I am sure you are aware that I will be leaving soon to escort Miss Becker and her friend home. I expect you to also depart before I return.”

  Helena laughed.

  “Oh, Duncan,” she said. “There is no need to be so dramatic. We have other business to discuss, and there is no reason why I cannot wait for you to return.”

  Duncan gave a loud, dry laugh.

  “We do not have any further business to discuss, and a dramatic form of address is the only type you seem to understand,” he said.

  Helena sniffed.

  “It never ceases to amaze me how you speak to me,” she said. “I only wish to help, especially as you do not seem capable of making prudent decisions for yourself.”

  Duncan stared at his mother, stunned at her audacity.

  “And to what decisions, precisely, are you referring?” he asked.

  Helena looked at him as though he were mad.

  “Do you really believe that I do not see the way you look at that servant girl?” she asked incredulously.

  Duncan smirked.

  “Do you mean Ruthie?” he asked sarcastically.

  Helena glared at him, and Duncan felt a slight sensation of satisfaction. He hated bickering with his mother, but he would not stand for her being unreasonable. Which, unfortunately, she was for most of the time.

  “You know full well of whom I speak,” Helena hissed.

  Duncan chuckled, refusing to give his mother what she so clearly wanted.

  “No, Mother,” he said, feigning utter boredom. “I am afraid that I have no idea what you mean.”

  Helena crossed her arms furiously.

  “You allowed that servant girl into your home, just because she had a dizzy spell,” she said, her eyes glowing with fury. “And you expect me to believe that you have no idea what I mean?”

  Duncan looked at his mother, his anger rising, but his face betraying none of his true feelings.

  “I invited her into my home because she is my employee,” he said, speaking slowly and deliberately. “It is my duty to ensure all of my employees are healthy, so they can continue their work for me.”

  Helena burst out laughing, and Duncan thought it was the most cold and grating sound he had ever heard.

  “Servants are one a penny,” she said. “If one falls ill, they can always be replaced.”

  Duncan clenched a fist behind his back. His mother’s incapacity to care about anyone who was remotely below her station sickened him, and it made him wonder how he could possibly be related to such a cold, dismissive woman. However, if there was one thing he knew about his mother, it was that she wanted him to be angry and defensive. She thrived on upsetting people, even her own son. So, instead of attacking her with his words, he merely smiled.

  “You are right,” he said. “But, as you may well know, it is wise to hold on to those that work the hardest and keep to themselves.”

  It had been a long shot, but Helena caught his underlying meaning.

  “I would keep more to myself if you were not continuously so ill-considered with your words and actions,” she said.

  Duncan chuckled again.

  “What actions are you speaking of?” he asked. He was well aware what his mother meant, but he was determined to force her to say it. He had finally figured out that she was the source of Christine’s distress, and he made sure that she knew she would not get away with it, even if it meant stooping to her level.

  As he had hoped, Helena’s cheeks flooded an angry crimson. She put her hands on her hips and stared at her son. Duncan kept his expression calm, which seemed to anger his mother further.

  “You are falling in love with that servant girl,” she said at last, her voice high pitched and distressed, “and yet you know nothing about her.”

  Duncan shrugged, avoiding his mother’s gaze, knowing well that the gesture irritated her more than anything.

  “What I do know about her is that she is kind, hardworking, and dutiful,” he said.

  Helena huffed.

  “So, you choose to refuse to heed my warnings about her,” she said. Her words were a statement rather than a question, but Duncan felt compelled to answer anyway.

  “Why should I heed any warnings from you, when they all stem from jealousy?” Duncan asked.

&
nbsp; Helena looked at him, for a moment seeming genuinely confused.

  “I beg your pardon?” she asked.

  “You have some problem with every woman who shows an interest in me,” he said, tired of the charade his mother insisted on. “For some reason or another, no woman is good enough for me.”

  Helena nodded, her previous coldness and confidence returning.

  “You are naïve, Duncan,” she said, “and these women are taking advantage of it, of you. You are too blind to see it. I am merely trying to protect my son.”

  Duncan bellowed with laughter. The idea of Helena trying to protect him was hysterical, and certainly not something he had ever experienced. She did a wonderful job of protecting herself, but she thought of no one else. It had been that way all his life.

  “Protect me?” Duncan echoed. “If you wished to protect me and my interests, you would want me to marry, so that I might produce an heir and keep our fortune and titles in the family.”

  Helena’s face paled, and for a moment Duncan thought she might storm from the room. However, she recovered herself quickly and straightened her shoulders.

  “I wish nothing more for you, Duncan,” she said. “But not if you are looking in the wrong direction.”

  “What would you know of it?” he asked.

  “More than you might realize,” Helena said. The look in her eyes told Duncan that she had much more to say.

  “And what do you mean by that, Mother?” he asked.

  True to form, Helena shrugged.

  “When you are ready to listen to reason, I will try once more to talk to you,” she said.

  Duncan shook his head, tired of his mother’s games. As always, she had nothing of true consequence to say. She was merely trying to scare him away from Christine, and this time, he refused to let her win.

  “Then, when you are ready to speak to me like an adult, we can finish this conversation,” he said.

  Helena looked at him, clearly taken aback at his dismissiveness.

  “I am your mother,” she began, but Duncan cut her off.

  “You always will be,” he said, “but you are also manipulative and angry. I refuse to speak with you further on this matter until you have something of substance to present to me.”

  Helena studied him for several moments, and Duncan’s stomach flipped. He had no idea what she was thinking, and he held his breath, not out of fear of her, but out of worry for what it was that she was keeping from him.

  “Something of substance?” she asked, suddenly very interested.

  Duncan swallowed. He had no idea what was going through her mind, but it gave him a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  “Yes,” he said, with far more confidence than he felt. “Something of real, irrefutable substance.”

  Helena smirked and nodded.

  “Very well,” she said. “As you wish.”

  Duncan looked at her, searching for more words to say to her. However, she turned and left of her own accord. He had no idea what had just occurred, but he could not dismiss the feeling of dread that had settled in his bones. The one thing of which he was certain was that his mother had caused Christine great distress. He felt an overwhelming sense of relief that it was not he who was making her uncomfortable, as well as anger and guilt that his own mother was the culprit. He stood looking after Helena long after she was gone, fighting his conflicting feelings. He was so lost in his thoughts that the soft, gentle voice behind him startled him.

  “My lord?” Christine said quietly. “I am ready to leave as soon as it is convenient.”

  Duncan whirled around to face Christine. For a moment, he considered apologizing for his mother and promising that she would never have to see her again, if only she would agree to stay a little longer. As he studied her face, still a little pale and fatigued, and more than a little distressed, he could not bring himself to say it.

  “Of course, Miss Becker,” he said.

  Christine smiled sheepishly at him. Her still distraught countenance and her apparent guilt at what she perceived as inconveniencing him made his heart squeeze, and he wished he could take her into his arms and kiss her forehead.

  “Thank you, my lord,” she said, averting her gaze as she made her way to the front door.

  Duncan studied her as she walked away, suddenly very sure that his mother had indeed succeeded in driving her away. He cursed himself for not removing his mother from his house and business long before Christine entered his life. He was also overwhelmed with the desire to ask Christine what his mother had done to upset her, and to tell her that, no matter what it was, he would set everything straight and ensure that his mother never bothered her again.

  Instead of saying any of those things, he simply remained silent and escorted Christine and Ruthie to the carriage.

  Chapter 17

  “My lady?” Ruth asked, as the carriage moved along the road that would take the two women back to the inn.

  “Yes?” Charlotte said, not looking at her maid.

  “Are you quite well?” Ruth asked.

  Emotion overwhelmed her as she recalled Helena’s words, and tears began to stream down her cheeks. She buried her face in her hands and wept softly. Ruth sat beside her and patted her arm gently, waiting patiently for Charlotte to be able to speak.

  After a few moments, Charlotte lifted her head and looked at her companion. She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. Then she gave Ruth a brief synopsis of her conversation with Helena. The maid’s expression went from one of sympathy and concern to one of surprise, and then of anger. When Charlotte had finished talking, Ruth took her hands.

  “Why are you letting this woman say these things to you?” she asked, her eyes bright with fury.

  Charlotte looked at her as though she were mad.

  “Letting her?” she echoed. “I have little choice.”

  Ruth shook her head fervently.

  “She continues speaking to you this way because you do nothing to defend yourself,” she said, insistent.

  Charlotte sighed.

  “I have said plenty in my defense, Ruth,” she said, “but I am certain she knows our true identities. Besides, her own son has tried defending me, and she brushed him off as though he too were a servant.”

  Ruth considered her words for a moment, and Charlotte winced. She had forgotten to tell Ruth about her other conversations with Helena, and she had never intended to. She did not want Ruth to worry about their security, and she had foolishly believed that the situation with Duncan’s mother would be resolved before she posed any real threat. However, after her most recent discussion with the horrid woman, she realized she had been wrong. Helena seemed determined to ruin her, and it was clear that she was well on her way to doing just that.

  “Do not worry,” Charlotte added quickly. “I have been saving most of my salary since we started working for Lord Willeton. Should we be discovered, and our employment terminated, we will have enough to get us by until we can find other work and lodgings.” She gave Ruth her most reassuring smile, even though she was far less certain than she sounded.

  Ruth nodded, but her eyes were still full of worry. Charlotte sat back in the seat, wishing desperately that her selfishness had not gotten them into this mess. She could not rid herself of the sadness that weighed heavily on her heart. Despite the stress of worrying about her deceit, she had grown accustomed to seeing Duncan outside of her work hours. She had even become fond of his daily visits to check in on her before he retired for the evening. In truth, she had begun to feel closer to him in general, so much so that she missed him dearly already. However, after Helena’s threats, she knew that those feelings would do her no good. At the same time, she knew she could not simply make herself forget them.

  “Please don’t worry,” Charlotte said again. “I promise you that I will make everything all right.”

  That night, as she tried to sleep, however, Charlotte could not help wondering if what she had said to Ruth was t
rue. Could she make things right? Or had she allowed the charade to go on for so long that their situation was beyond repair? She knew that she had to try to fix things, especially for poor Ruth’s sake, but she could not summon the confidence in her ability to do so.

  When they reached Duncan’s estate the next morning, Ruth practically ran toward the back of the house, and Charlotte felt another pang of guilt. She had no doubt that Ruth would be upset and worried all day, and she cursed herself for having spoken so carelessly. For the first time since this whole ordeal began, Charlotte felt completely alone, and she briefly thought that everything might have been better if she had just gone to France. At least then she would not be hurting everyone she cared about.

 

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