The Duchess

Chapter Twenty-seven: The Return

  When Peter realised he had left a stack of the letters his brother had written to him while he had worked for the Duke of Blackfall, and wrote to Mr. Johnson, asking if he could return to collect the letters, his instinctive feeling was one of fear. It wasn't fear of being rejected, but rather fear of seeing the duchess again.

  Nonetheless, he had to regain his courage and return. For the letters.

  Mr. Johnson had kindly collected the letters from the drawer in his room where he had left them and placed them on an end table in the foyer of the house, for Peter's convenience.

As soon as Peter entered the house, instinct kicked him. Two things were conspicuous: firstly, there was an extra footman stationed int the room, by the door.

  Secondly, the duchess was in sight.

  She stood at the top of the grand staircase, on the interior balcony of the second floor, simply staring at the ground, only turning to look at the door a few seconds late, a blank expression on her face.

  Instantly, he knew she had been crying for some reason or another. He dared to hope it was because— It was probably because of her family problems.

  He did not look away, but she did not react upon seeing him. “I’ve come to collect some letters I had left behind, Your Grace,” he said, reaching to pick the letters.

  She gave him a simple nod and he turned to leave for the final time. Again. Or to at least find Mr. Johnson before doing so to inform him that the duchess did not seem to be doing well, but he already probably knew that. However, some force within him willed him to say, “I hope you and the child are doing fine.”

  “We are,” she said emotionlessly, though that was obviously a lie.
  Forget Mr. Johnson, he had to speak with the duke!

  “I think I’d better check if I had left any other items behind,” he voiced out loud enough for her to hear, and entered a hallway.

  Just as he had suspected, the duke was in his study. He shut a drawer after noticing Peter’s entrance.

  “You’re back,” the duke commented, as emotionlessly as the duchess had.

  “Your Grace, the duchess is obviously not feeling well.”

  But the duke simply sighed as if it were none of his concern. As if he had heard many others voice their concern, and was sick of it. “You’d do best to stay out of it.”

  “I assume I just saw her contemplate throwing herself down a flight of stairs!”

  Peter left the room as soon as the words left his mouth, trying to act as if he, previously a mere servant, who was and always would be a peasant, had not just yelled at a duke, all courage leaving his body.

-