The Devil is The Duke

RUNNING AWAY



Emeera returned to the town with the Duke but all through the ride, the man sat like a statue. She made several attempts at polite conversation but finally gave up. It seemed the duke was bent on silence. The few hours drive felt like a day but at last it was over. As soon as the driver parked, Emeera ran up to her room for a long bath. After her bath, she was summoned to the Duke’s study.

She went in and saw the man with Mrs. Fletcher, standing together in an intense conversation. The door separating the study from its reception was open so Emeera coughed to announce her presence. Mrs. Fletcher sharply turned.

“Hello Emeera, welcome. I heard the country air was good for you,” she said sarcastically. Something in her voice warned Emeera that everything was about to go wrong.

“Thank you Mrs. Fletcher,” she answered and turned to the duke. “Your grace…” She said with a small curtsey, inviting him to speak. She stood still, scared of the scandal he was about to mention.

“Ms. Charles, we have some issues we must fix. My brother-in-law who is also my business partner is dead. I do not know why they could not reach us by telephone but this letter got in today from America where he was based. He did not put his affairs in order so this may cause us great discomfort. Also, my sister who is his widow is already on her way with her two daughters. The daughters are returning to Savoy to settle here and probably wed. So you must prepare this house for their arrival.”

“Alright. I will move out of the mistress room-”

“Why?!” He asked.

“Your sister is coming and this is still her home.”

“My sister would prefer to live in the country house and retain Mary as her maid. She will be here for only a short visit and she has her suite. She does not need you to move out for her. Mrs. Fletcher will prepare her rooms. And note that they will be here just in time for the ball so please have that in mind,” he said briskly. If he felt any emotions over the death, he did not show.

“Your grace, I have one other thing,” Mrs. Fletcher said sweetly.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“What will you do about the butler?” The older woman asked, causing Emeera to collapse into a nearby chair.

“Please get to the point. You know I do not like endless chatter,” he said. His eyes were filled with concern and fixed on Emeera. Maybe he thought her slump was as a result of the cold she had suffered.

Mrs. Fletcher who looked like she was enjoying taking her sweet time said with false surprise “About the pregnancy, your grace. One of the maids is with child and the butler is the father. I thought Emeera had told you,” she added the last sentence in a mischievous tone.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

The duke took the news better than Emeera had thought he would. “Ms. Charles did not tell me because this is news to her too,” He said calmly. Emeera looked at Mrs. Fletcher, imploring her not to say what she knew the woman was dying to say. But like Emeera already knew, her silent pleas were in vain. There was always something about the way Mrs. Fletcher looked at her that told her she was not supposed to be there, lording it over them. Even when she hid it well, it was still there. Always there.

“But Emeera knew and has known for a long time. Her maid, Lucille, told me with all certainty that Emeera knew and even instructed the maid to hide it from the rest of the household. She probably wanted to decide on the matter herself instead of informing you. I am surprised she did not tell you. I only brought it up because I thought you were in the know.”

The duke glared at Emeera. “Why?” He asked. One word, spoken so quietly she would have sworn he had not said it. She twirled her dress between her fingers, wondering what to say.

“I wanted to tell you but it was not the right time.”

“When?”

“In the country home but I was ill and…”

“Don’t try cheap emotional blackmail. You knew before we went to Davinshire.”

“I apologize for not bringing it up earlier,” she mumbled.

“To think that I actually asked you. Ms. Charles, I asked you to tell me if there was anything at all I was supposed to know but you withheld the information from me.”

“I am sorry,” she said with demured eyes.

“Mrs. Fletcher please leave us,” he said. Looking like a baby whose sweets had been taken away, Mrs. Fletcher left. The duke turned to Emeera. “I am disappointed in you. And I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

Emeera knew she had not been honest with him but she thought his reaction was an overkill. She had not connived with the enemy to take over his Davinshire estate or the Savoy Manor. “I did not think it was so important. It was a matter I thought…”

“Ms. Charles I didn’t pay you to think and decide what to tell me and what to keep. I paid you to manage my estates in my name and on my behalf. I asked you to be my eyes and ears. I don’t brook liars.”

“But I am not a liar!” She screamed before she could restrain herself.

“You are whatever I say you are,” he responded in a cold voice that sent shivers down her spine. There was something wrong with him. It showed in his icy eyes and the hissing breath. Emeera had never seen him like that before. It was as if he was not only addressing her but demons from his past. “You are a lying, conniving wench. All what women do is lie and lie and lie unprovoked. Get out of my sight.” He said it like she was filth.

Emeera blindly ran out of the study and charged to her bedroom. On getting there she met a crestfallen looking Lucille. “Madam I am so sorry, I did not know Mrs. Fletcher asked me in order to report. Please forgive me.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “Please help me pack my bags. It is clear I have overstayed my welcome in the Savoy Manor.”


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