The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

”The business... It has begun to do well after so many difficult months,” Wilfred stated, forcing a reassuring smile.

Roseline glanced toward her father, wondering why he would fabricate such a lie, but she held her tongue and remained silent. ”Will the Young Lord not be joining us?” she asked instead, breaking the brief tension.

”Roman has fallen asleep,” Eilika replied calmly. ”Why don’t we sit? I brought these gifts for all of you. It was a hasty decision to visit home today, so I simply packed what I could at the last moment.”

She paused briefly, her eyes sweeping over the quiet drawing room before continuing. ”Damian and I will be away from Varos for the next month. We are traveling to the North. I felt it best to visit you before our departure, Father.”

Wilfred frowned slightly, a touch of concern touching his weathered face. ”To the North? Whatever for?”

”It concerns official business regarding the Dukedom, Father,” Eilika answered, leaving no room for further inquiry.

”Will the Young Lord not be accompanying you?” Wilfred asked.

”Roman has his studies to attend to,” Eilika answered. ”He will remain at the estate under the care of his grandmother and uncles.”

”That is sensible. The young master must prioritize his education,” he agreed, turning his attention toward his wife. ”Have you prepared lunch?”

”Father, I have already eaten,” Eilika interjected gently. ”The three of you should proceed with your meal without concern for me. I will remain upstairs in my room.”

”How could we possibly dine in the presence of Her Grace?” Wilfred murmured beneath his breath, his hands resting heavily against his knees.

”Please, do not starve yourselves on my account. Besides, I will likely take my leave soon, as I know you must return to your affairs,” Eilika replied softly. She rose to her feet, smoothing her gown. ”Enjoy your meal.”

Without waiting for a reply, she turned and made her way back up the stairs toward her room.

”Why did you lie to Eilika about the business? We were forced to slash the household budget yet again this month,” Susan said in a hushed tone. ”It seems clear to me that the Duchess has finally found it in her heart to forgive us.”

”I have no intention of begging for her charity,” Wilfred replied, his brows furrowing deeply as he stared ahead. ”I know full well how dire our situation has become, and that we have been forced to let go of most of the staff, but soliciting her help would be entirely wrong. After our last dispute, it hit me just how thoroughly corrupted my thinking had become over the years.”

”Roseline, go to the dining hall and assist the servants,” Susan instructed gently.

Roseline nodded and quietly withdrew, leaving her parents alone in the drawing hall.

”My dear, we still have Roseline’s future to consider,” Susan urged, keeping her voice to a desperate whisper. ”At this rate, we will have no dowry left to offer for her marriage. In Eilika’s case, we were spared that burden, but Roseline will not be so fortunate. Eilika’s attitude toward us has softened. You must speak to her about our financial distress. We are down to our final three fields, if we are forced to sell those as well, how will we put food on the table? How will we survive?”

”Susan, the Duke made it abundantly clear to me that I must earn an honest living,” Wilfred replied, his voice firm despite his weary appearance.

”You have no idea what could have happened to me. I committed fraud against those people and withheld their rightful supplies. Later, when the Duke offered his assistance, I did not hesitate to hurt Eilika. But after seeing Roseline forced to work in the central administration center, I realized just how poorly I raised her. I will not trouble Eilika any longer. I will find a way. As for Roseline, she will find a good household. Do not worry.”

With that final assurance, Wilfred rose from his seat and walked quietly toward the dining hall, leaving Susan alone with her thoughts.

Shaking her head after some time, she went to the dining room as well.

”Take the fruits to the Duchess’s room,” Susan informed the servant, who was serving at the dining table.

~~~~~~

Eilika sat on the edge of the bed beside the sleeping Roman, her eyes fixed on his steady breathing, when a gentle knock sounded at the door. The wood swung open without a sound, and a servant slipped into the room, dipping into a low bow.

”Madam requested that I bring these fruits for you, Your Grace,” the maid murmured, placing the silver tray onto the side table carefully.

”Thank you, Anne,” Eilika replied softly. She glanced toward the hallway beyond the open frame before looking back. ”I noticed the corridors are unusually quiet today. Have the staff been granted early leave? I was under the impression their customary seasonal leave did not commence until winter.”

Anne lowered her gaze, her hands clasped tightly before her apron. ”It is a matter of the household accounts, Your Grace,” she confessed in a hushed tone. ”The Master’s business has suffered greatly since he settled his outstanding obligations with the creditors. With the coin depleted, most of the house staff were dismissed weeks ago.”

Eilika sat frozen, the maid’s words ringing in her ears. She had no idea the household had fallen into such dire condition.

”Thank you for telling me the truth, Anne,” Eilika said, recovering her composure. ”You may go now.”

Anne bowed low and withdrew, closing the door softly behind her.

Eilika picked up a piece of fruit from the tray, eating in silence as her thoughts raced. She could not fathom why her father had chosen to lie so blatantly, concealing the collapse of his affairs.

’I warned him never to come to me seeking favors again,’ she thought, staring at the closed door. ’I was only protecting myself because Father always hurt me. I did nothing wrong... Did I?’

~~~~

August lay back in the boat, his eyes closed as the gentle rock of the water lulled him into a quiet daze, until a soft voice broke the silence.

”Are you taking passengers?” a woman asked. ”My sister and I need to reach the opposite shore.”

August opened his eyes and sat up, shielding his gaze from the sun. Standing on the wooden dock was a young lady in her early twenties, her hand firmly holding that of a little girl who looked to be no more than ten years old.

”I am no boatman, Miss. You have approached the wrong person,” August replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

”Sister, this uncle is lying,” the young girl said, turning her tearful gaze up toward her elder sister.

”Pardon me? I am certainly no uncle,” August interjected, letting out a sharp chuckle. ”I have paid to rent this boat for three hours. The two of you ought to look elsewhere, and kindly leave me in peace.”

Without warning, the child burst into loud wails.

”Oh, Lara, hush now,” the young lady pleaded, dropping to her knees on the dock to stroke her sister’s back.

”The uncle raised his voice at me!” the girl cried out, her sobs escalating.

”When did I ever scold you?” August demanded, his eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at the pair.

”Be silent, sir! You most certainly did raise your voice at my sister,” the young lady snapped, cutting him off sharply. She scooped the sobbing child into her arms and turned on her heel, marching away without another word.

August stared after them, dumbfounded. ”I was the one disturbed by their intrusion,” he muttered to the empty air, running a hand over his face. ”Do they have no idea who I am? I am a Prince of—”

He broke off, the words bitter on his tongue as he remembered he held no true royal authority here.

Realizing his quiet afternoon was ruined, he stepped out of the boat onto the wooden pier. He had barely taken a few strides when he froze. The young lady had returned, flanked by several heavy-set men wielding thick wooden cudgels.

”Brothers, that is the man who berated my sister!” she declared, pointing a slender finger at him.

”Step behind us, Xenia,” the man in the lead ordered, gripping his club tightly. ”We will teach this fellow proper manners.”

”Hold your ground, all of you,” August commanded, his tone hardening into steel. ”This woman and her sister speak falsehoods. I was resting peacefully in a vessel I paid to rent. And you would do well to remember that I am not some common drifter for you to threaten with sticks.”

Reaching into his tunic, he drew forth the heavy silver token his father had bestowed upon him before his departure for Varos. He held it aloft, the royal crest gleaming under the light.

”I am August Van Kingsley, son of King Nyxen,” he announced calmly.

At the sight of the seal and the sound of his name, the color drained from their faces in an instant.