“Yes, yes.” Leopold waved his hand at the disaster around him. “I was somewhat preoccupied with all this and it slipped my mind to send a note myself. You did the right thing following Her Grace’s instructions.”
Colby picked up a desktop curio and rubbed the dust from the top. “Her Grace has a lovely way about her.”
Leopold squinted at the younger man. “Don’t tell me you’re captivated of another highborn lady so quickly. We’ve only been in the district a few days.”
An impish grin crossed Colby’s face. “She wasn’t anything like I expected a duchess to be. Very anxious about your comfort, she was. Her Grace came up to your bedchamber herself and wanted to be sure you were squared away properly. For a moment there I was afraid she would supervise my unpacking.”
Leopold pursed his lips, puzzled by Mercy’s inquisitiveness. “Are we? Squared away, that is?”
“You are, sir. My quarters are on the floor above. I have a narrow chamber to myself with a view to the west gardens. Much better than our last quarters.”
Leopold chuckled as he relaxed into the hard backed chair. “Was the view of the pig-sty from the Vulture windows unappealing?”
Colby said nothing, but neither of them would miss the stench. “I’ve arranged for hot water to be sent up to your chambers in half an hour, sir. Her Grace was most insistent that you be given ample leisure this evening to prepare for dinner. I think she must be very lonely here, sir. The staff below stairs are all in a rush with preparations for tonight.”
Leopold choked. Mercy couldn’t manage the estate, yet she fussed over his comfort and had arranged an unnecessarily extravagant dinner. Would an hour go by without her astonishing him? Leopold feared there wouldn’t be. But then he remembered she’d been raised to be the perfect hostess. Why else would the old duke have arranged the match for his son to such an impetuous woman?
No matter how hard he tried, Leopold could not imagine cousin Edwin and Mercy married. Perhaps that woman in the painting fit the bill. But the woman he’d held in his arms this morning did not.
He closed his mind to the past, shut the journal carefully, and dropped it into the open desk drawer. “I’ll come up now. No point continuing with anything at this hour.”
“Very good, sir. Do you like it here in the abbey better than the palaces of India?”
Colby kept up a steady chatter as Leopold followed him upstairs and along the corridor to the family wing. His servant’s curiosity about the abbey amused. Colby wanted to know who graced each painting, as if Leopold had a close connection with the contents of the house. He did know the details of some, simply because his father had pointed them out when they had visited. Leopold had committed those few to memory, but Romsey Abbey housed a great collection of art and furniture, dating back centuries. Only the old duke and his son would have known the stories of all.
As he passed one closed door, he heard young Edwin squeal with joy. Leopold gritted his teeth and turned into the blue suite. He didn’t recognize anything in the chamber, but he knew the space well. The bed stood seven long paces from the door, and it squeaked.
“The duchess was curious about your other possessions, sir. Shall I have them sent up from Portsmouth?”
In the act of parting the drapes, Leopold turned. “No. I have no need of those items until we settle into our permanent accommodations.”
Colby appeared ready to say more, but instead closed his mouth. It was clear the young man liked Romsey better than anywhere else they had traveled. But staying here brought too many complications for his peace of mind. He would find his family, organize things so Mercy and Edwin would be better prepared for the future, and then set up his own estate. Perhaps he could visit occasionally when time allowed. But those visits would be brief and far between.
While Colby hurried from wardrobe to bed and back again, Leopold told himself his decision was still the correct thing to do. Right for him, right for her, most especially right for Edwin. The boy might never question his parentage if Leopold went away.
The deep bath and relaxation of his quiet chambers were just what he needed. He hadn’t sat still behind a desk for that long in ages and his body ached from the strain. When he was clean, neat, and presentable, according to Colby’s strict standards, he followed a footman down to the drawing room.
Mercy was already there waiting for him.
For a brief, delicious moment, Leopold looked his fill. Tonight she had dressed in a simple pale green silk, cut low over her breasts with tiny slivers for sleeves. Leopold’s mouth watered with the urge to rip the gown apart with his teeth. Yet he managed to cross the room, bowed respectfully, and kept his hands at his sides by sheer force of will. Up close, the smooth swells of her breasts beckoned him to feast. He hastily lifted his gaze to her face.
“I trust your day wasn’t too distressing, Leopold.”
He glanced at the
footmen lining the walls, surreptitiously listening in to every word Mercy spoke. He hoped she wouldn’t set too many tongues wagging with her lack of formality in using his given name because once Eamon Murphy learned every word they’d spoken tonight, the gossip would pass around quicker than lightning. He could feel his ears burning even now. “You have good workers, Your Grace. You should be well pleased.”
“Oh, I am.” Mercy set her hand to his sleeve, but then her fingers slid downward to squeeze his fingers. “I feel ill knowing I have continued my husband’s habit of paying them so poorly. You must raise their wages at once.”
Her bare fingers tightened on his and he caught a servant gawking. He twisted his hand free and stepped back, putting a greater distance between them. “I was intending to speak to you about that tomorrow in private. How did you know about the low wages already?”
Honestly, she should have raised them herself long ago if she’d known.
Mercy shook her head. “I hope you will spare me from confessing to an unsavory habit, something totally unfitting for a duchess to do.”
Her odd smile had him thinking hard until he guessed that she’d spent the afternoon secretly observing him. “You spied on me?”
She nodded ever so slightly. A pink blush spread up her cheeks.