Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

T he first thing Lucian noticed when he entered his town house was the unfamiliar scent. It smelled like some sort of intoxicating perfume. A mixture of flowers and fruit and something indefinably…feminine.

The next thing he noticed was the flowers themselves. Ridiculous amounts of them. Crystal vases filled with them. Not in an ostentatious way, but in a tasteful yet lovely way. Had Gemma done that?

There were little things too—a new rug, an unfamiliar vase. All tastefully done with an eye to detail. Hmm. Were those Gemma’s work as well?

Leaving the trunks to the footmen, Lucian bounded up the stairs two at a time in search of Mrs. Howard. He found the lady in the doorway to his bedchamber, clearly overseeing the final details to ensure the rooms were ready for his return.

“There you are, Mrs. Howard.” He gave the woman a wide smile as she turned to face him.

“ Your Grace .” She curtsied and an equally large smile lit up her familiar face. “Welcome home. We’re nearly finished here and?—”

“No need to hurry on my account. I intend to spend most of the afternoon in my study seeing to the correspondence I missed. I merely wanted to find you and tell you that I had arrived.”

“Might I say how well you’re looking, Your Grace?” Mrs. Howard said next, eyeing him up and down.

He bowed slightly. “Thank you, Madame. I do believe the sun agreed with me.”

“Indeed,” Mrs. Howard replied.

He inclined his head toward the staircase. “Walk with me down to the study?”

The two turned and made their way downstairs as Lucian fired off two dozen questions about the house, London, his correspondence, the mews, the coaches, the other servants, the shopkeepers’ deliveries, and a number of other things he wondered about.

By the time they made it to his study, Mrs. Howard had answered all of his questions to his satisfaction.

“Thank you, Mrs. Howard,” he said, giving the lady a final bow. “I’ll take things from here.”

Mrs. Howard’s brow shot up in a disapproving manner. One Lucian was quite familiar with. It would take longer than fifteen months for him to forget his trusted servant’s most telling facial expression. The woman had known him since he was born.

“Don’t you want to know about your wife , Your Grace? You haven’t asked so much as one question about her.” There was an unmistakable note of disapproval in her words.

“Oh, yes. How is she?” Lucian said absently, already rifling through the stack of correspondence he’d found atop the desk.

At Mrs. Howard’s silence, he glanced up. The housekeeper was staring at him with obvious judgement in her hazel eyes.

“You may want to ask her yourself , Your Grace.”

Lucian frowned. Mrs. Howard had never reprimanded him. She’d never had to. This was the most disapproving thing she’d ever said to him. Point taken.

“Very well,” he replied, expelling his breath. He should say something in way of greeting to Gemma. “Where is the duchess?”

“She’s gone out for the afternoon.”

“Mm.” Lucian had already turned away and was headed around the side of the desk to take a seat. He had much to get to. “I shall speak with her later then.”

He’d expected Mrs. Howard to leave, but when her shadow remained in the doorway several moments later, he glanced over. “Yes, Mrs. Howard? Is there something else?”

Mrs. Howard folded her hands together and inclined her head. “Ahem. There is…something you should know.”

Lucian stopped sorting through the post. “Yes?”

“The duchess has become…quite a favorite of the servants.”

Lucian frowned. “In what way?”

“She, uh, plays cards with the footmen on Tuesdays and has tea with the maids on Sundays.”

Lucian blinked at her. A duchess? Playing cards with the footmen? He’d never heard of such a thing. “Thank you for bringing it to my attention, Mrs. Howard. I’ll take care of it.”

“No, Your Grace,” she said, clearing her throat. “You misunderstand me. I mention this not to indicate it is a problem. But to let you know how very beloved Her Grace is in this household. Mr. Warwick and I don’t know what we’d do without her.” With that, the housekeeper turned and exited the study, leaving Lucian to stare after her in wonder. If he didn’t mistake his guess, he’d just been taken to task for the treatment of his wife and then warned that the servants were on the duchess’s side. Good God. He’d clearly been gone too long. Had his entire household descended into chaos?

Regardless, he’d see Gemma at dinner. He would ask after her health. Ask after her health and then inform her of the decisions he’d made about their future while he’d been gone. There was no reason they couldn’t be civil to each other and live separate lives as they’d already learned to do in the last fifteen months. It would all be quite tidy. And the ton wouldn’t suspect they were anything but happy. A marriage exactly like his parents had.

Hopefully, his wife had matured in the last year. Perhaps she was no longer as dramatic or as eager to argue. He could only hope she’d changed. But even if she hadn’t, Lucian intended to succinctly inform her how their marriage would be from now on. She would simply have to accept it.

Meantime, he would see to this mountainous stack of correspondence and then he would go to his club. The long travel had been hell. He needed a drink, and he looked forward to catching up on the latest news about London, about Parliament, and about his friends’ lives. There would be plenty of time to deal with Gemma later.