He grinned down at her. “So, my company is preferable to no one else’s, eh? No, don’t worry, Duchess. Aunt Gweneth will be here shortly. She’s very worried about you. She’ll not leave you until I return.”
Not five minutes after Aunt Gweneth arrived, all gentle worry and soothing fingers to smooth away her headache, Aunt Wilhelmina came into the bedchamber, swathed in dark purple, her impressive bosom well in the foreground like the figurehead on a ship.
“Oh dear,” Gweneth said, “I don’t believe dear Marcus wants more than just one visitor at a time, Willie. The Duchess is still quite weak.”
The Duchess opened her eyes and stared into a face that had once been quite pretty but was now filled with discontent, and bright, dark eyes that were filled with a savage sort of delight at seeing her lying here on her back. Willie? Surely that wasn’t quite the right name for her aunt. Surely a Willie was warm and giggly and kindness itself. It was just as odd a name on her as Trevor was on her eldest son.
“So, someone struck you down. What a pity.”
“Yes, as you see. To get the book, the same book that Mr. Burgess has.”
“You’re lying. No one would strike you to get to that silly book.”
“Really, Willie, the Duchess is ill. I beg you to leave now. She must rest.”
“I wish she would die and good riddance to the whore.”
Aunt Gweneth gasped. “What? What did you say, Willie?”
“I said I could cry and that I pray there’ll be no more.”
The Duchess closed her eyes and turned her head away from Wilhelmina.
It required but the Twins and Ursula, and they poked their heads into the bedchamber not two moments later.
“Mother, the Duchess must rest,” Ursula said in a firm adult’s voice. “Come along now. Fanny and Antonia want you to see the new bird feeder we’ve made. Mr. Oslo, the estate carpenter, helped us, but we did most of the work and we even painted it. It has the look of our house in Baltimore.”
“Oh, very well. Do rest, Duchess, maybe forever.”
“Willie!”
“What is wrong with you, Gweneth? I just told her to rest and get better.”
“Mama, please come along now.”
When they were alone again, Aunt Gweneth said softly, “Do forgive her, Duchess. She isn’t always a diplomatic woman and her life hasn’t been all that easy.”
“You mean she was starving in a gutter drinking blue ruin when your brother married her? Or perhaps she was an orphan in a workhouse? I know, it was smallpox, wasn’t it? Or do you mean that your brother—my uncle—beat her?”
“Well, no, not exactly. However, you’ve covered just about every possibility.” Gweneth paused a moment, a brow raised thoughtfully. “That was well put, very well put indeed. You seem a bit different, Duchess. Ah, it’s just that, well—Wilhelmina isn’t a very happy person.”
“She’s a vicious harpy,” the Duchess said, then sighed deeply. “I want to rest now, Aunt Gweneth, that’s certain, but not forever.”
“No, dear, certainly not. Whatever medicine Badger gave you, keep taking it. I like the vinegar in you, dear. It’s such a change, but so invigorating, don’t you think?”
20
WHEN SHE AWOKE, it was late afternoon. Badger was sitting beside her. He immediately smiled down at her and gave her some water, holding her head gently in the crook of his arm.
“You always know what to do. Thank you.”
He merely nodded. “I heard about the invasion of that American person from Miss Antonia. Now, this person, who is only your aunt by marriage, will not be allowed to discomfit you again. Mr. Spears and I have worked out a schedule. Whenever his lordship isn’t here, either Mr. Spears or Miss Maggie or I will be. You won’t be bothered again, Duchess.”
“And when they aren’t here, why I will be. How do you feel, Duchess?”
She felt her spirits lift just at the sound of his voice. It was stupid of her, but true nonetheless. “I’m fine now, Marcus. If you wish, you can relieve your spleen. You can yell at me again with good conscience.”
He frowned at her. “No, I shan’t do that, particularly in front of Badger. Now, I will dine with you this evening, right here, then we will see tomorrow morning if you’re ready to get out of bed.” He continued to Badger, “I understand you