The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

Louis locked his hands behind his back and turned away, taking a few slow, deliberate paces toward the window. ”No, there is no need to question anyone. I prefer to extend my trust to you, Miss.” He tilted his head back, casting a quiet look over his shoulder before returning to his seat.

”I fully understand Lord Louis’s reasons for caution,” Elodie replied softly, her posture remaining poised despite his intense scrutiny. ”I assure you, my only intention was to place this ledger in safe hands. I have felt profoundly indebted to you ever since the kindness you showed me.”

Satisfied by her earnestness, Louis reached over and rang the small silver desk bell. A moment later, the servant knocked and entered.

”Please bring tea for us,” Louis instructed, setting the old ledger aside as the servant bowed and retreated to prepare the tray.

”Do not feel that way toward me,” Louis replied softly. ”It is merely our duty to look after the citizens of Varos. As for the dry cleaning of my coat, I must insist upon paying you. I know how hard you work to earn a living; it is never an easy path.”

As he spoke, a flicker of deep, hidden pain crossed his eyes, a personal sorrow and burden unknown to anyone else in his circle.

”My lord, you are unlike any of the nobility I have ever known,” Elodie said, her gaze meeting his with quiet sincerity. ”I always believed they cared only for their own selfish interests. I do not say this to win your favor. These are my genuine thoughts. It is rare indeed to find someone of your station who is so genuinely kind and thoughtful.”

Louis smiled as he watched the maid return. She poured two cups of steaming tea before quietly withdrawing from the room.

”Please, drink the tea before it gets cold,” Louis urged gently.

He lifted his own cup and saucer, gently blowing across the surface. Across the low table, he watched Elodie cradle her cup with both hands, a quiet fondness tugging at the corners of his mouth. Forgetting his own tea entirely, he found himself simply watching her savor the flavor, as though she had never tasted anything quite so exquisite.

Suddenly, Elodie lifted her gaze, only to find his warm, steady eyes fixed upon her.

”The tea is good,” she murmured, a soft flush rising to warm her cheeks. ”I never had such a tea before.”

”I am glad you liked it,” Louis answered, taking a few measured sips before setting his cup back upon the saucer.

”My mother did not belong to the nobility,” Louis revealed, the confession slipping out before he could check himself. ”Perhaps that is why I am made of softer stuff. I witnessed too much struggle within my father’s house.” Having already breached such a private boundary, he continued, ”Their marriage was arranged by our grandfathers on both sides. My father never truly acknowledged my mother.”

Elodie listened in silence, her gaze unwavering as the truth settled between them.

”I am certain your mother would be proud to see the man you have become,” Elodie said softly, a genuine smile touching her features as she set her teacup onto the low table. ”Lord Louis, your name is spoken with quiet gratitude in the lower districts. The commoners count your fairness as a blessing.”

Louis chuckled, a warm, disbelieving sound. ”Is that so?”

”It is, I swear to you,” she murmured, lightly pressing her fingertips to her collarbone in a customary gesture of absolute sincerity.

A quiet laugh escaped him, though the sudden, bright sheen of moisture in his eyes betrayed how deeply her words struck a chord he usually kept heavily guarded.

”The hour has grown late. I must take my leave,” Elodie said, rising from her chair.

”My coachman will see you safely to your door,” Louis replied, standing up immediately. ”Please, this way.”

He motioned toward the corridor, escorting her out toward the main stone portico. The moment they stepped past doors, they saw the sudden, torrential downpour was lashing violently against the flagstones.

”The storm has broken with some force,” Louis observed, looking out over the shadowed grounds.

”Indeed,” Elodie murmured, tilting her head back to watch the sheets of rain blur the courtyard lights. She realized she didn’t even hear it was raining.

”Your lodgings are a considerable distance from here, and this gale shows no sign of abating,” Louis noted, turning back to face her against the roar of the storm. ”Why not stay here for the night?”

Elodie blinked, her fingers tightening instinctively over the wool of her coat. ”My lord... I could not possibly trouble you with my presence. And given the hour, it would hardly be proper.”

”It is no trouble at all, nor do I see any impropriety,” Louis replied with a quiet, reassuring smile. ”I am neither wed nor betrothed; you would be entirely safe under this roof. Please, step away from the draft.”

”I... I can manage the walk back, Lord Louis,” Elodie murmured, her gaze dropping to the wet stone of the threshold, though her hesitation was plain against the sheet of rain driving against the porch.

”Elodie, it’s not wise to step outside in this rain. The cold is extreme too because of the strong wind,” Louis told her. ”What do you fear? I’m a gentleman and don’t lay a hand on any lady. Let’s go inside.”

Elodie finally agreed and walked behind him when he showed her one of the guest rooms. ”Tonight, you can stay in this room. I’ll send a pair of night clothes for you through a servant’s hands,” he asserted. ”Make yourself comfortable.”

He then turned around and left her alone in the room.

Elodie fiddled with her fingers as she looked around the room. It was like three or four rooms combined. ”He’s truly kind,” she murmured.

~~~~~

Xenia latched the wooden shutters of the small room against the rising gale, shutting out the wind. In the center of the narrow cot, Lara sat huddled beneath the patched quilts, watching her with wide eyes.

”The storm is fierce tonight, isn’t it?” Lara asked.

”It is,” Xenia murmured, turning away from the drafty window to shed her damp shawl.

Lara held up a small, neatly folded piece of parchment. ”Look. I made this in the afternoon.”

Xenia paused, stepping closer to inspect the fragile shape. ”It is finely made, Lara.”

”Thank you,” the child whispered, lowering her hands. ”Where did you go today? Even our brothers didn’t know.”

”Matters concerning the market,” Xenia replied carefully, climbing onto the mattress and drawing her little sister close against the chill seeping through the floorboards.

After a moment of silence, Lara looked up, her brow furrowed with a child’s sudden worry. ”The brothers were speaking about your betrothal. Will you be married off? Will they send you away from this house?”

Xenia pressed a firm kiss to the crown of her sister’s head, her fingers tightening around the quilt. ”No,” she said. ”Why would I ever leave you behind?”

She tapped the tip of Lara’s nose, smoothing her hair against the pillow. ”Now close your eyes. You need to get a good sleep.”

”Sis, please take me with you if you ever get married. I do not want to be left behind,” Lara whispered, shutting her eyes.

Xenia smoothed the child’s tangled hair. ”I am not going anywhere, Lara.”

She had sworn to herself long ago never to abandon her sister, no matter what the future brought. If the time ever came to consider a match, she would make her condition plain: her sister went wherever she went.

A quiet thought crossed her mind, ’Will any man agree to such a demand? If not, then I simply will not marry.’

However, the next moment, her mind suddenly drifted to August. Once again her heart began beating rapidly which confused her. ’What is this strange feeling? I feel anxious... No... It’s tough to explain. Ever since he caught me in the market, my heart is acting weirdly.’

Listening to Lara’s soft, even breathing, Xenia smiled faintly in the darkness. The child had drifted off. Leaning down, she pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

’I want to help Prince August,’ she thought, her mind racing back to the burdens she carried. ’I can only hope the Duchess agrees. Yet she spoke the truth. I have a family to consider, my little sister and my older brothers. If anything were to befall me, what would become of them?’

Having endured the shattering grief of losing their parents, Xenia knew too well what that emptiness felt like. She would never allow Lara to suffer that pain. Though Lara had lost them too, she had been too young to retain any memory of their faces, growing up instead without the warmth of a mother or a father.

’But I also trust that Prince August wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I’ve to help him for what he did for my family,’ she again thought.