When a Duke Loves a Governess (Unlikely Duchesses #3) - Olivia Drake Page 0,34

a bedchamber with dainty furniture and rose-pink hangings. The closed draperies dimmed the room, while a blazing fire on the grate made the air stuffy.

Lying beneath the covers on the four-poster bed, Lady Victor pushed up on one elbow and blinked anxiously. “Why are you here? Is it my son? Has something happened to Edgar?”

Tessa hastened to the bed and bobbed a curtsy. “Nay, milady. I-I merely wished to inquire how you are faring.”

“Oh…” Her face settling into long-suffering lines, Lady Victor sank back down on the pillow and plucked at the bedclothes. “How should I be faring with Eddie still gone at Newmarket? Mingling with gamblers and drunkards and other ne’er-do-wells.”

“Now, I’m certain Mr. Edgar is just fine,” Avis said. She sat down in a chair beside the bed and patted the woman’s hand. “Pray recall you had a note from him yesterday saying he’ll be returning soon.”

“Only if he can elude the danger of highwaymen on the journey home.” Shuddering, Lady Victor directed a heavy-lidded look at Tessa. “They killed my husband, you know, those highwaymen. He was the first victim of the Carlin Curse.”

A chill tiptoed down Tessa’s spine. Though not a superstitious person, she felt a deep-seated unease at the conviction in Lady Victor’s voice. The woman truly believed there was a curse on the family. In her defense, there had been a number of deaths over the past few years. Maybe it was only natural that she should worry.

Lady Victor closed her eyes and stirred restlessly on the bed. “The curse should have claimed Guy, too,” she muttered. “He shouldn’t have come home. Had he not returned, my dearest Eddie would have been duke…”

As the woman drifted into slumber, the dark fog of her words lingered. Guy must be Carlin’s first name, Tessa realized. She’d always heard that aristocrats valued position above all else, yet it was hard to believe that Lady Victor regretted her nephew’s return from his journey. Would she really rather he had died in order to benefit her son?

The notion repulsed Tessa. Her mind summoned an image of the duke’s intense eyes, his strength and vigor, his magnetic presence. Despite the harsh masculine angles of his face, he had a smile that had the power to wreak havoc on her insides. His awkward attempts to befriend his daughter had tugged at her heart, as did his passion for plants. It had been a revelation to discover that despite his high rank, he had hopes and dreams like anyone else. Surely no one could wish death on such an intriguing man.

Perhaps she’d misunderstood the laudanum-induced ramblings of a woman who only wanted the best for her son. A woman who was so mired in the past that she’d forgotten how to be happy.

Avis arose from the chair and motioned to Tessa. Together they tiptoed out to the sitting room. “We can talk here,” Avis murmured, seating herself on a rose-and-white-striped chaise and patting the cushion beside her. “Her ladyship shouldn’t wake for a time. And pray don’t heed her gloomy words. She does go on at times.”

Feeling out of her league in such fancy surroundings, Tessa settled onto the edge of the chaise. “Perhaps a rest will lift her spirits.”

“One can always hope. Mr. Edgar is her only child after a number of miscarriages, you see, which is why she frets so much about him. But enough of this melancholy. I’ve been on thorns to know, is there any truth to the rumor that Lady Sophy broke a window this morning?”

It must be all the talk belowstairs, Tessa realized. “Yes, she tossed a stone at the conservatory while we were in the garden. The duke came rushing outside, and the sight of his displeasure isn’t something I’ll soon forget.”

Avis pressed a hand to her cheek. “The marvel is that he didn’t dismiss you on the spot. What did you say to him?”

“I convinced him that she’d acted in a fit of pique and it wouldn’t happen again.” It wasn’t Sophy’s fault that she’d been duped into believing her father hated her. Only time and patience would heal the rift between them. Unwilling to reveal his private troubles with his daughter, Tessa glossed over the incident. “Once she made her apologies, he took her inside and showed us the parrots that he brought back from his travels.”

Avis stared. “Why, His Grace never permits anyone in the conservatory except for Jiggs. You must be very persuasive.”

“Rather, I believe the duke viewed it as a

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