Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

T he fire in the room had gone dim, and Richard stared at the poor excuse of a heat source. His room was colder with the coals burned down, and he knew in the back of his mind that he should call for a maid to come to relight it.

But he didn’t.

He just stared at the wavering air above the logs as he sat perched on the end of his bed. Richard had told Amelia that he was leaving. He’d planned what to say to her, stayed up all through the evening after carrying her back to her bed, and he’d said none of the things he wanted to.

Why hadn’t he said what he’d practiced?

There were words that assured her he was leaving so that she might return to her life of freedom. There were words he would have used to ensure she knew he would not interfere with her life going forward. And still, Richard had said none of them. He’d barely spoken at all.

It was unclear how long he sat there, watching the orange glow of the logs get weaker and weaker. But at some point, Richard stood up from his bed and called out for Edward, requesting his assistance and a bit of wood so that he wouldn’t freeze during the cool London evening. However, the thought of succumbing to a frigid slumber didn’t bother him nearly as much as it should.

Stepping back into his room, Richard walked over to the wardrobe, standing in front of the twin panels that opened in the middle.

I need to get changed. I cannot sleep in my attire.

The thought was there, but his body did not move. A few minutes later, Edward entered his bedroom with a maid following behind. Cynthia, her name was Cynthia, and she placed her bundle of logs on the fire and encouraged the flames once more.

“Your Grace?” Edward spoke, and Richard shook his head slightly as he returned his attention to him. “Is that acceptable?”

He didn’t know what his valet was referring to. Richard had completely missed whatever Edward had said as the twister of thoughts claimed his focus.

Looking to his valet, Richard put forth a pained smile. “I’m sorry, would you repeat that? I was…distracted.”

Edward came closer to him, reaching for the lapels of Richard’s deep gray waistcoat as he stood behind the Duke.

“I only asked if you would like your evening’s tea and repast brought up to your chambers for the evening.”

Richard nodded. “Yes, that’s…Yes, thank you.”

His valet assisted Richard with stripping the garment from his arms, removing his watch and fob items from where they were held by a chain to the bottom of the waistcoat. He placed it over the back of a chair where the items of his dress would all be collected before Edward deposited them in the basket for washing.

He’d seen the man do the same thing time and again, but Richard watched without blinking as Edward folded the coat gently, acting as if the fabric was delicate enough to tear from simply handling it.

“You are so careful with it.”

Edward looked up from lying the waistcoat down, offering Richard a humble smile.

“Of course, Your Grace. I would hate to mar any item of yours because of carelessness.”

Tension pulled at Richard’s temples, and he saw the image of his father wielding a cane in his mind’s eye. He had been young, still frail, and had dropped an inkpot on one of the man’s shirts. Richard held the scars of that punishment on his back.

“I hope you do not think I would harm you for something as simple as an accident.”

Edward’s wide eyes met Richards, and as the man’s brow furrowed, a crease forming between the two dark slashes over his eyes, his valet shook his head. A look of indignation crossed over Edward’s expression before he put a hand to his chest and bowed his head.

“You have never given Amelia any cause to believe that I would be mistreated, Your Grace. You are a kind and steadfast head of the household.”

Richard nodded, the discomfort of the compliment sitting on his skin like grease. “You have served Amelia for some time now.”

Nodding, Edward returned to Richard’s side, helping the Duke pull off his Hessians, leaving them by the door for the following morning. He was given slippers to keep from standing on the floor in his bare feet, and Richard thanked Edward as he always did.

The valet continued to assist Richard with shucking the other layers of his attire, starting next with his cravat and quizzing glass that hung around his neck from a thin chain.

“Coming up on twelve years, Your Grace. I have been with you since before your marriage when you were but a young man.”

The Duke hummed to himself, his eyes focused only on the floor at his feet. As much as he knew that Edward had helped him to get undressed, in fact, Richard was acutely aware that each layer had been handled with the utmost care; the act of undressing was a blur in his mind. It was as if he had traveled somewhere else and suddenly arrived at his destination.

“We will be returning to Blackford shortly. It is to my permanent residence once more.”

There was a pause, and Richard could sense Edward setting down the cravat and glass on the wash basin behind him. The Duke didn’t move, still staring at the fireplace, which now held renewed flames that flickered sporadically. Edward returned, unfastening the stock beneath the fine lawn of Richard’s shirt.

He draped the stiff neckband over his arm as he went for the buttons of his shirt sleeves. Richard held out his arms, moving by rote alone until his wrists and neck were free of the tension around them. Edward assisted him with one side of his breeches, allowing Richard to let them fall to the floor.

“You have made the staff aware, Your Grace. I will, of course, be ever at your side should you continue to call for me.”

Standing in only his shirt, Richard nodded, though he was not certain why.

“Might I, however, offer a word regarding your return.” This time, Richard turned to face Edward. “You have no call to heed my words, of course. It is merely a gesture of appreciation as I have been devoted to helping you for so great a time.”

“Go ahead, Edward. I will not fault you for expressing your thoughts or opinions.”

The Duke knew it was a dangerous thing for many a servant to speak candidly to their employer, but not only was Richard of a mind to hear Edward’s thoughts, but he also would be hard-pressed to find a reason to dismiss the man. They had become something akin to friends over the years, and Richard did not wish to see his life without his faithful valet.

“You do not seem pleased to be making your departure. Am I wrong in thinking you wish to remain at Heartwick?”

Richard sighed. As much as he was typically a fantastic whist player with the stoic countenance to prove it, today appeared to be an entirely different matter altogether.

“I am afraid my emotions have been far too obvious.”

Edward offered a slight smile, walking up to pat Richard on the shoulder.

“I have years of experience reading your expressions, Your Grace. Do not take it too harshly.”

When Richard was draped in his robe, Edward guided him to sit down in the small chair that sat by the window. It would be his usual place for taking an evening repast or tea in his room would Heartwick have been the place where he resided, not Blackford.

“I…I must return to the country. There is nothing more to be done here, and I am sure that Amelia can maintain the household without issues. It was clearly the work of jaded gossips to place her name in the scandal sheets, and I shall think of them no longer. Amelia is free to do as she wishes. With…whomever she wishes to do them.”

The words sounded as pretty as ever. Were they inked into a letter, it would be impossible to disprove their veracity. But Richard could hear the slight affectation of his speech, the way that he hesitated just a hair too long. He had yet to say, even in his mind, the reality of his feelings, and he could not let himself slip now.

“Your Grace, do you think?—”

“Edward, we are in my bedroom, myself undressed, and you have stood as my attendant for nearly twelve years, the fact coming from your own mouth, please, call me Richard.”

His valet chuckled slightly. “Apologies…Richard.”

As the two of them grinned at the oddness of circumstance, Edward took up a seat across from him at the minute table in his room.

“Would you care to express why it is that you do not wish to return to Blackford but feel you must?”

Sighing, Richard shook his head. “I cannot. It would do no good to speak of things that do not matter in the grand scheme.”

Edward regarded him, the structure of his brow rising up one side as if it were a wave frozen in place. He was quiet, but Richard could feel the scrutiny of his appraising stare sinking into the marrow of his bones.

“Would you kindly desist from pinning your gaze to Amelia as such? You must be aware of responsibilities and withholdings that affect a man of my station.”

“Is it the nature of your station or the confines you have created for yourself within it that holds you back?” Edward cocked his head, narrowing his eyes as he refused to let Richard brush this matter aside. “And please forgive me for saying, but is not the woman your very wife? Certainly, that is of benefit to you the now?”

Richard attempted to hide the way his entire body went rigid at the mention of Amelia. He was fairly sure that Edward saw past the stony mask that he placed over his features, and it took everything he had not to swallow and fidget underneath his valet’s criticizing stare.

“This does not have anything to do with the Duchess. Aside, of course, from the matter that she is to remain unhindered in her duties within Heartwick.”

“You are in love with her,” Edward spoke so plainly that it nearly knocked Richard out of his seat.

“I beg your pardon. Not that it is any of your business, but I do not have time for such frivolous matters. We have an arrangement that it all.”

“You forget, Your Grace,” Edward lowered his chin to look at Richard from beneath his brows, “Richard, I have been around you for so very long. I have seen you when you are ill. I have seen you when you are enraged by the work to be done and the lack of time to do it. I have never seen you so affected by anything as you are by the Duchess.”

He froze. Richard was incapable of movement to the tiniest degree. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to refute this ridiculous claim to all that might dare to think him so fallen under the whims of the woman who he happened to call his wife. There was not a soul whom Richard trusted enough with his heart to say that he was in love with them. It was preposterous.

Except…it wasn’t.

Richard’s stare fell to the table, a heavy exhale bleeding from his chest. “Don’t you see, Edward, it does not matter. And furthermore, it is the very cause for my departure. My presence will only hinder her. She had requested a life of freedom the likes of which she enjoyed before my untimely arrival. I cannot—I will not—take that from her.”

His expression dropping, Edward rolled his lips between his teeth as he met the Duke’s eyes. “Should she not have a say in the matter? Would it not serve you both to have a conversation about the feelings at work here? Her Grace is a kind soul. If she were to feel the same for you?—”

“She doesn’t. She can’t.” Richard shook his head, swallowing hard. “Anything felt on her end is the result of attention paid to her that she was unfamiliar with. I am sure that she will carry on and find another who will provide a partnership for her.”

The room hung in silence for a long stretch, and then Edward stood up from his chair, bowing slightly toward the Duke.

“I will fetch your repast and tea, Your Grace.” He smiled, knowing and sympathetic. “If you do so find yourself thinking on these words and coming to the conclusion that you would say something to the Duchess, I will be at your behest to see it done.”

“An unlikely fate, my friend.” Richard shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “But I thank you nonetheless.”

Edward turned and headed for the door, securing Richard’s last meal for the evening. He was set in his mind, and the Duke knew all too well that it could not change. The world was not a kind place, and he would offer Amelia this act of benevolence when a different man would selfishly claim her and bend her to his will.

He would, despite how his chest cracked in half for the pain of it.