“They’re talking about a Mrs. Whitaker today.” He set the paper down in front of Sarah, who peered over her bowl at it. “Did you know one of the Duke of Daventry’s daughters was married?” Tom said. “I certainly didn’t.”
Chastity’s heart came to a thudding standstill. She stepped closer and eyed the caricature.
“You used to work there, did you not, Chastity?” Sarah asked. “Was she really like that?”
Chastity saw herself depicted as a vapid, demanding woman surrounded by new gowns and shoes whilst waving a fan and demanding things of her beleaguered late husband. They’d drawn John with a halo whilst her hair had been styled so it mimicked horns. She pressed a hand to her whirling stomach. Keep your men safe! Do not let them near the D’s daughters! declared the caption.
Her breaths grew rapid, and she fought to suck down her next one whilst keeping her expression neutral. Of course they thought John to be an angel. Everyone did. They never knew what he was truly like behind his carefully constructed image.
“Was she that bad?” asked Tom eagerly.
“I do not…” She twisted away. “I do not know,” she managed to mutter and fumbled blindly upstairs until she could pause, lean against a wall and take a breath.
She could listen to them mock and deride her no longer. She’d only ever tried to be a good wife, but people never saw that, even now. All these years later, all this gained confidence and fighting to be her own woman and John’s behavior continued to haunt her. She slammed a fist against the wall.
“Whatever did that wall do to you?”
She jolted away from it and scowled in Valentine’s direction. “Do you just wait around in the hopes of scaring me?”
A dark brow rose. “Forgive me for existing in my own house.” He motioned to the open door of the drawing room. “I recalled I had some paints stored somewhere and I was going to give them to the children.”
“That’s a terrible idea.”
His lips slanted into a dry smile. “Probably.” He nodded toward the wall. “Why exactly were you trying to beat my wall into submission?”
“It does not matter.”
He stepped closer until he was silhouetted against the bright light of the windows, tall and imposing but oddly comforting. She wanted to fling herself against him and draw comfort from the strength of him as though it could help her gain the power to defeat the hold John still had over her.
∞∞∞
Valentine saw the indecision, the fragility in her posture. She wanted to tell him more and he wanted to know it all. He shouldn’t but he could not bring himself to care at present. Whatever made the light drop from her eyes at times, he wanted to help her conquer it. Or at the very least, understand.
“I think it does matter,” he said softly.
“There was a drawing.” She gestured down the stairs.
“Of your sister?”
She shook her head.
He frowned. “Of you,” he stated.
She nodded.
“I did not think you the sort to be bothered by such things.” He cocked his head. “Chastity, you are one of the strongest women I know.”
“I am not always.” She pressed both hands to her ribcage. “Not all the time.”
“Well, one cannot be strong all the time,” he reminded her. “Will you tell me why it has hurt you so?”
She met his gaze and searched it. He saw the moment she decided to give in when she pressed away from the wall and sighed. He gestured to the nearby chair that occupied the one side of the entranceway and she followed him over, sitting as though the world weighed heavily upon her shoulders.
“I married John when I was but sixteen,” she said.
Not unusual but still young. He imagined even Chastity had been naïve and innocent at that age. He let her continue rather than comment, though. Whatever burdened her, he wanted her to unload it upon him. Goodness knew, he’d unloaded everything about his father upon her, begrudgingly, but there had been something remarkably remedial about admitting his hurts to her.
“I thought we were very much in love but that changed swiftly.” She gave a tight smile. “He was not the man he appeared.”
Valentine stiffened. “Did he beat you?”
“No, nothing as awful as that.” She shook her head. “I feel silly to even still think on his behaviors when I know there are women who are experiencing far worse even now.”
“I hardly think anyone’s experiences should be compared,” he said. “If it impacted you so that you are still upset by it now, it must have done some damage.”
She stared at him for a few moments and a slight smile curved her lips.
“What is it?”
“You are an astonishingly insightful man, Valentine.”
“Well, I did not know you thought me a dolt.”
“Only to begin with.”
He liked the way her eyes warmed when she teased him. Much better than seeing pain flickering in them. “So what exactly did your husband do?” he pressed.
Chastity glanced at her lap, plucking the edge of her apron and running it through her fingers over and over. “It’s hard to pin it down sometimes.” She looked back to him. “He used to make me feel stupid.”
“You are far from stupid.”
“I know but he made me feel it. He’d mock me or dismiss me.” She lifted both shoulders. “I do not think that’s unusual in many marriages unfortunately.”
He released a disgusted noise. His experience of marriage was limited to his parents which, whilst not a love match, was respectful and amicable. But no one could be immune from knowing there were plenty of awful marriages within Society.
“Why anyone should wish to dismiss the person they are to spend the rest of their life with I do not know,” he muttered.
“I think it made John feel better about himself.” Her lips thinned. “He appeared confident, handsome, wealthy...” She gestured vaguely. “To everyone, he was perfection. But he was not the cleverest of men and at home, he was less than charming. Quite quickly he stopped even trying to pretend to be the perfect husband. I think it was too tiring for him. Then when I questioned his behavior, as to why the man who was meant to love me the most would behave so, he would laugh and call me ridiculous.” She huffed. “It does seem ridiculous to even think on it now.”
“You were married for some time, were you not?”
“Yes. Until he was killed in a fight not far from where we went the other night. Apparently, the other man had called him out on a lie and they fought.”
“A senseless death.”
“Utterly pointless,” she agreed, “but I could not help but feel free.” She grimaced. “That sounds awful, I know.”
“He inflicted untold pain upon you for many years. No wonder you felt that way. No wonder it still hurts even today.” He reached over and touched a finger to her cheek to draw her attention to him. “Anyone who is told something repeatedly cannot help but end up believing it.”
“I have tried hard to banish his words.”
He let his lips tilt. It explained so much about the woman who stood before him—why she was so determined to maintain independence and fight for those at a disadvantage. He imagined even if Eleanor wasn’t her sister, she’d still want to correct the situation. He’d never admired a woman so much.
“What happened to you made you the woman you are today,” he reminded her. “And that woman is quite...” He searched for the word, knowing what he wanted to say would give away far too much about how he felt about her. He gave up. “Spectacular,” he finished.
Her mouth rounded. She had to see it. He felt as though he had opened his chest and revealed everything to her. This was so dangerous, and he should be running yet he found himself lifting her chin with a finger and fixing her with his gaze.
“He was a fool and I hate that he ever did such a thing to you. You deserved better. But no one can deny you are a spectacular woman, in so many ways.”
He hea
rd her draw in a shuddery breath. “I have never been called that before.”
“I can call you other things if you prefer. How about stubborn and foolhardy?”
“No, I like spectacular.”
And he liked her. Too much. He could not fathom how he was ever going to return to his old life now she had torn into his existence and turned it upside down.
“I cannot believe I told you all this.” She shook her head. “I barely even talk to my sisters about it.”
“Well, I’m not sorry you told me.”
Chastity smiled—a smile so bright and charming he wanted to drop to her feet and beg her to never leave him.
Oh yes, he was in an incredible amount of trouble and he had little idea what to do about it.
Chapter Nineteen
“I knew it!”
Chastity froze in the doorway of the bedroom. Her feet pounded, her arms ached from beating the huge Persian rug, and dust made her eyes gritty. If she had learned anything from her time as a maid, it was all the servants at her father’s house deserved an increase in pay.
And that women like Charlotte were far cleverer than anyone might realize. She waved the silk gown like a huge flag in front of Chastity.
“I just knew there was something odd about you.” Charlotte swept a hand down the creased material. “I woke up the other night and you were not in your bed and now this.” She tossed the gown, forcing Chastity to catch it and clutch it close. “You are no maid, are you?”
Chastity opened her mouth and shut it. She should have been better prepared for this but, of course, she’d been so distracted by Valentine. She’d known Charlotte had her suspicions, but she had not wanted to admit it.
Because admitting to it meant leaving.
Charlotte stepped smartly around her and shut the door, the loud thud making Chastity jolt.
“You’re the master’s mistress, are you not?” she murmured. Her expression softened. “You can tell me. I will not say a word, I swear it.” She cocked her head. “We are friends, are we not? Just tell me.”
“I…” Words failed her. She could lie. Or at least partially lie. Admit to being his mistress and stay.
“I’ve definitely seen him staring at you.” Her lips curved. “Is it love? Will you marry him? Just imagine, a serving girl and an earl. Maybe you can introduce me to a Duke.” She laughed. “Can you not see me as a duchess?” She pressed a hand to her chest and fluttered her lashes.
She closed her eyes briefly. Charlotte deserved better and maybe it was time for this to come to an end. She was no closer to finding out who had killed Mr. Harper.
Oh yes, and the word love kept fluttering about her mind like a pesky fly that she could not swat. It was certainly time to leave.
“I’m not his mistress,” she admitted.
Charlotte’s face dropped. “Then where did you get that?” She gestured to the gown bundled in her arms. “And what about the posh letters?”
Chastity sagged onto the unforgiving mattress, the ropes underneath squeaking in protest. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek. If she confessed all, she would have to leave, no matter what Charlotte said. She’d promised Valentine that any hint of scandal and she’d leave. She didn’t break promises with ease.
But how to say it?
Taking a deep breath, she glanced up at Charlotte’s expectant expression. “I am a lady.”
Charlotte narrowed her gaze then gasped. “A fallen one? Hiding from scandal?” She clapped hands to her cheeks. “Oh, do not tell me his lordship ruined you!”
Chastity gave a slight smile. “No, no. Certainly not.”
“Then whyever are you here?” Charlotte sank onto the bed next to her, her eyes wide. “I cannot believe I did not see it sooner, though. You walk with a certain air and your skin is far too nice to be that of a serving girl’s. I just put that down to you having not worked while your husband was alive.” She narrowed her gaze. “Are you even a widow?”
“I am a widow though I have been a widow for some time.”
“That still does not explain why you are here. Surely you could find work as a governess or...or a lady’s companion? Are you really so penniless?”
“I am not.”
“Then why are you here?” Charlotte repeated.
“I’m investigating the death of Mr. Harper,” she said simply.
Charlotte wrinkled her nose, brows knitting. “But why?”
Chastity twisted to face her. “Mr. Harper was killed at my father’s house and my sister was seen with him prior to his death. There are those who have painted her in an unpleasant light and continue to do so. Her reputation has been most savagely torn apart and I wished to prove who really killed Mr. Harper.”
The maid blinked a few times, her red lashes fanning across her face. “Your father’s house?” she repeated. “That would make you...” Her eyes flew wide, her cheeks staining bright red.
Rising, she stumbled upon the uneven floorboards and dropped into a curtsey so deep her nose almost touched the floor.
“You are a duke’s daughter.” She kept her eyes cast down. “Good Lord, and there has been me blaspheming and saying goodness knows what...”
Chastity rose and tugged on Charlotte’s wrist. “Please do not,” she begged. “As you said, we are friends, are we not?”
“I thought so.” She rubbed the spot between her brows. “Does His Lordship know? Surely he recognized you?”
She nodded. “He reluctantly allowed me to work here.” She smiled to herself. “He was not particularly impressed by the idea, and he will be even less so now you have discovered me.”
“Wait.” Charlotte held up a hand. “Did you suspect me?”
“Only very briefly!”
“Well, I suppose that is fine then.” Charlotte shook her head. “I’d make a terrible murderess anyway.”
“Agreed.”
“If you are a fine lady, why did you not pay someone to investigate? Why put yourself through all this work? I certainly would not if I had the choice.”
“It’s my job to look after my sisters. Besides, if you want a job done well, one should do it oneself.”
Charlotte eyed her for a few moments, then burst into laughter. “Now you really do sound like a lady. Have you found anything out? We all know Julian did not kill himself.”
Chastity glanced at her hands grimly. “Nothing certain. We had a witness who said she saw a man fleeing the house, but she has vanished. I fear whoever it was killed her.”
“Who is we?”
“My sisters and I. And the earl, I guess.”
“You and your sisters are most unusual.”
She smiled. “I suppose we are.”
“What will you do now? Is there anything I can do? Julian deserved better and we all know it.”
“I think it is time for me to leave but it would be useful if you could let me know if you hear anything.”
Charlotte grimaced. “Did I ruin it all for you?”
“Not at all.”
Unless one counted her love affair with Valentine being over. Charlotte’s discovery merely prompted her to do what she knew she must—leave and continue her investigation without the hinderance of her duties here.
“It is time for me to leave,” she said firmly, ignoring the deep tension circling around her stomach. “There is nothing more for me to discover here.”
“I will admit to being a little sad you are not having a love affair with His Lordship. He seemed happier since your arrival here.”
“That is nothing to do with me I am afraid.”
It couldn’t be. After all, this was nothing more than a quick indulgence of their desires, and he had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with marriage or Society—of which she was practically at the top of.
∞∞∞
Valentine kept his expression neutral when Chastity breezed past him but it took all his control. He wanted to grab her and press her up against a wall and kiss her deeply or haul her into his bedroo
m or, hell, even have a five-minute argument with her.
“Meet me in the library at nine,” she whispered, her breath like a hummingbird’s wings on his neck.
When nine o’clock rolled around, he forced himself to linger over a letter in his study before heading to the library. He found her pacing near the window, still in her uniform. She stopped when he entered and shut the door, hot blood pumping through his veins.
“You’re late,” she chastised.
“Do I look like a punctual man to you?” He gestured to his scruffy appearance.
He sat at the cherry wood table, as far away from her as he could get. If he didn’t control himself, he’d be upon her in seconds, ignoring whatever it was she needed to tell him.
Poor Julian deserved better.
She seemed oblivious to his internal torment and swayed her hips as she walked toward him, taking a seat so close that their knees were practically touching. She was infuriating. She tweaked the lace of her cap, pressed her lips together and her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath.
Whatever it was, it could not be good.
“Charlotte—the maid with whom I share a room—knows something.”
“Something?”
“Very well. She knows it all.”
“All?” He sounded stupid but he couldn’t fathom how else to react. The words were like a punch to the gut—a huge fist pressing deep, snatching his heart and slamming it fiercely against his ribcage.
Someone knew of their ruse. And what had he told her about her being discovered?
She would have to leave.
Chastity glanced at her worn fingernails. “I must leave.”
No.
He wanted to bellow the word. No. She couldn’t leave, not yet. Not when he still desired her every moment of the day. Not when things were…
Damn it. She really did need to leave. This was getting dangerous.
“What exactly does she know?” he asked rather than doing what he should have done and agreeing with her.
“That I am the duke’s daughter and that I’m investigating Mr. Harper’s death.”
Temptations of a Duke's Daughter (The Duchess's Investigative Society Book 2) Page 15