Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

T he carriage rumbled to a halt outside the grand estate, and Simon stepped out, one of his staff members immediately rushing to him.

“Your Grace, I did not expect you to arrive here at this hour…”

“Where is the duchess?” he asked, his tone demanding. His eyes scanned the surroundings. It was late evening now, and the sun was already beginning to go down.

“Your Grace, I last saw her upstairs, near the nursery.”

Nursery?

Strange, the duke thought to himself. What business did she have being there to begin with? But then, he knew next to nothing about this woman, so how she chose to spend her time was always going to be a surprise to him — no matter what it was.

As he walked inside the estate, it felt like he was walking into someone else’s house entirely. Simon was struck by the transformation. The grand foyer, once stark and cold, now felt warm and inviting. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, fresh flowers were arranged in elegant vases, and the furniture had been rearranged to create a more welcoming space.

Of course, it was not as though the duchess had done anything wrong by rearranging things around the house. It was her house, too, after all. But it was just a stark change.

Behind him, Jameson, followed him out and awaited orders. “Jameson, fetch the duchess. We need to resolve this matter immediately.”

Jameson bowed and hurried off. Simon took a deep breath, trying to temper his fury. He had no idea what awaited him, but he was determined to address it head-on.

A few moments later, Harriet entered the room, her posture stiff. She was not meeting his gaze, but he could not help but notice the changes in her physical appearance since he had seen her last.

Had she somehow… become even more grown? When he saw her on the wedding day, he knew her to be a young girl, but now she looked like a woman. One that exuded a newfound confidence and strength. It stirred a strange feeling inside of him, though he quickly buried it to focus on the task at hand.

“What is the meaning of all this?” he asked, his voice echoing across the room. “You summoned me back with a command. You have no right to demand anything of me. I thought that I had made that much clear.”

“Do I not have the right to ask my husband to return home?” she said, her voice dangerously provocative.

“You very well know what you can and cannot do. Need I remind you that you were not supposed to summon me, lest it was a matter of life or death?” he narrowed his eyes at her.

“Oh, I see. Then, please, tell me, Your Grace. Does leaving me to deal with the consequences of your actions warrant a summon from you? Or should I have been more considerate?” Her eyes flashed with anger.

Simon’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What in heaven’s earth are you talking about?”

Harriet took a step forward, her voice trembling with rage. “Don’t play innocent with me, Your Grace. I see through you; you are nothing but a pretentious hypocrite. Assuming the higher moral ground, when surely your actions are far from ethical.”

It occurred to Simon that Harriet must feel justified in her rage, though he had no clue on what caused it.

“I do not wish to engage with you if you are to be like this. So either you explain to me exactly what it is that has you so flamed, or I will depart.” His words had a threatening edge to them.

Surprisingly, his ultimatum worked and Harriet straightened up immediately.

“A baby was left on our doorstep — a baby girl named Catherine. And you expect me to believe you had nothing to do with it?”

Simon’s eyes widened in genuine shock. “A… what?”

Harriet turned and called out, “Eliza, bring Catherine here.”

The young maid appeared, cradling the infant in her arms. She handed the baby to Harriet, who held her up for Simon to see. “This is Catherine. She was left here with a note asking us to care for her.”

Simon stared at the baby, his mind racing. He took a deep breath, trying to make sense of the situation. “Harriet, this child is not mine. I have no knowledge of any paramour or illegitimate child.”

He was trying his best to keep his cool, even though she had annoyed him to a large degree.

Harriet blinked at him. Her face was a mixture of both disbelief and a hint of relief. She scrunched her eyebrows together, “How can I believe you? You left me here, alone, without any explanation. What am I supposed to think?”

Harriet’s eyes narrowed, her voice trembling with rage. “You expect me to take your word for it? After everything?”

Simon’s eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and determination. “Yes, because that is the truth. Watch your tongue , Duchess. I will not be falsely accused.”

That seemed to work, but only for a moment. For Harriet was pacing the room now, with the baby firmly nestled in her arms.

“Then who is she? Why was she left here?”

“You are the one who has resided in this estate for the last nine months,” he said, stiffly. “Why do you presume that I would know? If anything, I should be questioning you.”

He watched as Harriet stopped her pacing, looking over at the baby with concern. Did she think that her pacing disturbed the child too much, or was she only pretending to care for the child?

“Take her back to the nursery,” she said in a hushed tone, “And see to it if she needs her milk.”

Whatever it was, the duke watched her as she slowly handed the baby back to the maid.

For a moment, Simon felt like he was intruding on a private moment. But then, he quickly corrected himself. Harriet must have known the baby for no more than a few days, if the timing of her letter was to be believed. Why was she speaking about the baby so tenderly then, as though she had given birth to it herself?

“I shall try and find the parents,” Simon promised with a sigh.

Harriet did not look convinced yet that he was not the father. But she held back her tongue, and refrained from arguing. “That would be good, but I am not sure how you will manage to do that from so far away.”

Her words were tinted with complaint. To him, it seemed like she wanted to remind him that he had been absent.

“It is obvious that I will have to extend my stay for this,” he told her, surprisingly himself as well.

The duke was not someone who was known for bending his rules. The rule he had set was that he would not spend a night more than necessary under the same roof as his new wife. But then again, these were not ordinary circumstances either.

If Harriet had a reaction to what he just said, she did not let it show. Instead, she nodded curtly.

“Very well. If the baby is indeed yours, I should hope that you show for up for her, not abandon her as I have known you to do,” she noted.

“Abandon?” he raised an eyebrow at her. “Pardon me, young lady. Are you somehow implying that I have abandoned you ?”

“I have spent the last nine months alone in this house, without the man that I married. What else do you expect me to call it?” she retorted.

Simon felt annoyance seep into his blood, and spill out in his tone. “You are well taken care of, in every possible way except for my physically being here. I suggest that you look up the definition of abandon, since your usage of it seems to be far from the reality.”

Harriet fell silent, causing an awkward tension to settle between them.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I have to figure out the origins of this child,” he said through gritted teeth, and turned to walk away. But right before he did, he looked at Hariett with a serious expression once again, “I would suggest that you think twice before speaking to your husband, and the head of this household, in this manner again. You may have had the privilege of being on your own for the last few months, but that does not change your position in this house.”

Simon left the drawing room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. Harriet remained, thinking to herself about what had just transpired.

Had she really come off as too stern in her letter? Surely, it was a strongly worded piece, but wasn’t that natural given how shocking the entire situation was?

She thought about what her mother may think of this. A lady has failed in her divine-decided duty if her husband is unhappy with her, she would often tell her daughters.

Surely, Albina Cooper would be thoroughly disappointed in Harriet, if she were to be a fly on the wall for this conversation.

Catherine began to fuss, her small face scrunching up as she let out a wail.

“Oh, dear,” Harriet said, growing panicked. She rocked her gently, trying to soothe her, but the baby’s cries only grew louder. Harriet's inexperience with infants was painfully obvious.

The maids, noticing Harriet’s struggle, quickly gathered around to offer their assistance. Eliza stepped forward first.

“Your Grace, let me take her for a moment,” Eliza said softly, reaching out her arms.

Mrs. Alridge noticed the look of dismay on the duchess’s face, and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “Your Grace, it is natural for a baby to cry like this.”

“Is it?” Harriet asked, unable to tear her eyes away from the little baby. “I fear that I have done something to upset her.”

“Oh, no. Not at all. The baby is too small to have feelings, as we do. I suspect that she is merely hungry,” Mrs. Alridge commented.

“Hungry?” Harriet asked, surprised. “But did you not feed her this morning?”

“She was fed, as you instructed us to. But a growing baby has a large appetite, and needs to be fed by the hour.”

“Oh,” Harriet said, feeling a bit daft now. “I suppose I do not know much about babies at all, do I? I was the youngest in my family, after all.”

She slumped her shoulders, thinking to herself that if only her parents had a child younger than her, she could have gotten some experience in looking after it. As Esther did. She was a natural when it came to looking after children.

As the baby continued to cry, Harriet realized that it was going to be tough looking after the baby, even with the help that she had at her disposal.

And then, a thought occurred to her.

“That’s it! That’s the solution,” her words came out rushed.

“What is it, Your Grace?” Mrs. Alridge inquired, baffled by her sudden burst of energy.

“Please ensure that little Catherine is fed, and that she stops crying. I have to go and pen an urgent letter.”