I made my way downstairs, anxious to find Robert so we could post our letters. Where would he be at this hour? The library, perhaps? Or the billiards room?
Now, if only I could remember where the billiards room was. I turned back the way I had come, certain it was in either the second corridor or the third.
“Miss Graham.” I jerked up in surprise to find Halstead’s mother standing in front of me.
I curtsied. “Your Grace.”
“I’d like a word with you.” Her fingers fluttered against her skirts.
The way she was eyeing me gave me pause, but I had little choice but to acquiesce. “Yes, of course.”
“Perhaps you would join me in my sitting room so we may enjoy some privacy.”
She led me down a small corridor. My mind churned as I followed along behind her, unable to think of any positive reason she might wish to speak with me. Alone.
The duchess opened the door to a tastefully decorated room of cream and soft gold. The sun’s bright rays beamed through the west-facing windows, warming the room despite the chill outside.
“Won’t you sit down?”
I chose an elegant yellow-and-gold-striped chair that was surprisingly comfortable, given its refinement. The duchess chose the matching chair and seated herself beside me.
The muted sound of the wind could be heard just outside the window as we sat in silence. We’d hardly spoken above a dozen words to each other since my arrival, and I wondered that she would request a private audience now. I took a moment to appraise her and sensed her doing the same to me.
The duchess was elegant in every way, her face fine-boned and pale. Her eyes were light gray, her lips a perfectly practiced line of gentility. Halstead looked nothing like her. As his grandmother had said, his looks favored his father’s side—strong Corinthian features with a regal bearing, dark brows, and a stark jawline. What I could not so easily discern, in my few seconds of scrutiny of his mother, was which of his parents he favored in temperament.
She finally cleared her throat, a graceful hand at her neck. “One thing I have learned in my years as a duchess, Miss Graham, is there is no sense in pretension. I will be direct and expect you to be the same.”
I ran my tongue over the back of my teeth, intensely interested in what she might say next. Even though the room wasn’t overly warm, the new skin forming over my burned palm grew clammy under the gauze.
“What, exactly, are your intentions with my son, Miss Graham?” With her back so straight, her spine barely touched the back of the chair, and she looked every inch the duchess.
I fingered the necklace at my throat. “You’ll have to clarify your meaning, Your Grace, if you wish me to answer.”
She nodded and went on, her words passionless, matter-of-fact. “You can have no illusions as to what Halstead’s duty is. He may find you interesting for the course of a few weeks, but nothing more will come of it.” The skin around her mouth grew taut. “What I’m struggling to comprehend is why you encourage his attentions, unless you enjoy the process of having your heart broken.”
Every piece of me rankled under her arrogance. Several satisfying retorts jumped to my mind, but thoughts of Aunt Agnes held me back. I had little doubt that were I impertinent with the duchess, my aunt would hear of it. And I would be punished—through Harry. With the letter Robert had just received from Harry’s headmaster, I could not give Aunt Agnes any incentive to make things worse.
Before replying I sifted through my thoughts. “I hold no illusions. Your son is a duke. While my mother was the daughter of a gentleman, I am also the daughter of a sailor.” I dragged my bottom lip through my teeth. “It would be preposterous of me to have any expectations beyond bidding each of you farewell at the end of our stay.”
But the coldness that trickled through my middle belied my words. A foolish hope had taken hold of me, so subtly I had only realized it now that Halstead’s mother sat across from me, a look of disdain on her face. I folded my arms across my stomach, trying to keep hold of my emotions.
“I can only hope you feel those words with the same conviction you say them. Lady Margaret has always been intended for Halstead, and given the opportunity, his head will come to rights on the matter. Tomorrow evening’s ball holds a great deal of expectation. I believe today and tomorrow spent in each other’s company will allow them the time they need to settle things. In the meantime, I will ask you to keep your distance.”
Was it true? Perhaps I did not know Halstead nearly as well as I believed I was coming to know him. Or maybe his mother feared what she’d seen between Halstead and me and hoped to drive a wedge between us. My throat squeezed closed, choking me. How could I agree to stay away from him? But I dared not defy her.
She gave me a forced smile. “Halstead can be intractable, but I am sure you will think of something to make it clear you have no intention of continuing on as you have.”
Unable to speak, I gave a brief nod. She waved a hand, dismissing me. I bolted from my seat. Once in the corridor, the walls blurred around me. My lungs compressed, and I felt as though I were suffocating.
Air. I needed air. I made my way outside, and once out on the steps I breathed in deeply, but even with my lungs full of fresh air, I felt an acute sense of panic, as if life were closing
