Duchess by Chance (2 page)

Daniel looked to the doorway where his wife stood with her head lowered.
 

“Would you care for a drink, Duchess?” Squinting, Daniel tried to get a look at her eyes as her head shot up. Damn, still too far away. Why had he not looked closer when he helped her from the carriage?

“No, thank you,” she said, unmoving.
 

“However, I wish to finish mine,” Daniel added in a steady voice that took a great deal of effort. Just looking at the woman made him furious. How the hell he was supposed to dredge up some degree of passion to consummate their marriage before he left for London, he could not fathom. He had told Winchcomb he would not bed her, yet his father had given his word the marriage would be consummated, and so Daniel would oblige. The old duke had never kept his word on anything; this was one more thing he would do to ensure he was nothing like the man who had sired him.
 

“Of course. I will wait in the carriage for you, your Grace. Please take your time.”

“Come and sit d - ” Daniel heard the front door close before he finished his sentence. Growling at no one in particular, he gulped the last of his tankard, then slammed it on top of the table, enjoying the satisfying clunk. After handing several coins to the proprietor, he stomped out into the night.

Eva shot her husband a quick look. Husband! Dear Lord, he was so big. Large hands were clenched on muscled thighs, and polished booted feet twice the size of her own were propped on the seat beside her. She’d first set eyes on him striding down the aisle toward her and she had never seen a man so handsome. Even with his dark brows lowered and anger etched in every line of his face, he had made the breath catch in her throat.

His huge shoulders were encased in black super-fine cloth over a crisp white shirt. His black breeches were equally fine-looking. Across from her, his large hat rested on the seat. He was, to her untutored eye, everything a gentleman should appear to be.

He had been chillingly polite to her since their journey began, yet his anger filled the small confines of the carriage. In his eyes, she had crossed him -, or more importantly, her family had, and he was not going to differentiate between the two. She was here and he was angry; therefore Eva would bear the brunt of that anger.

She watched as he pushed one large hand through his thick sable-brown curls as he once again looked at her through the glass. Black lashes and brows formed a frame for eyes that were the color of an overcast day, and the one time he had looked at her during the service they had been smoldering with rage. On any other face, his nose would have been oversized, but on his, it was perfect, complementing wide, high cheekbones and a jutting jaw.
 

Eva had not known what to think when her father told her she was to be married today. Stunned, she had sat in silence as the carriage carried them to the church. Her father had talked of how a hand of cards was about to change her life and how she should always be grateful to him and never forget that it was he who had given her this opportunity. She did not question him further. Spencer Winchcomb was too handy with his fists and it would have been just a waste of breath anyway as he had never listened when his daughter spoke.
 

Was she trading one tyrant for another? This was her biggest fear since meeting the duke. She had no idea how a duchess should behave, but this she could learn. However she had no wish to learn how to evade another man who insisted on controlling her by force.
 

“It is stated in the contract that you must consummate this marriage!”

She had overheard her father roaring those words at the duke before the wedding service, and Eva had wanted to curl into a ball and hide from the humiliation when she heard her future husband’s response.
 

“Never! I may have to marry her, Mr Winchcomb, but I will never produce the heir you and my father wanted.”

His words had been laced with loathing and when her father had continued to roar at him saying things like, ‘honor bound’ and ‘gentleman’, the duke had not uttered another word. Eva had felt a fierce pain in her chest when she realized she would never have a child of her own - someone who belonged to her alone, relied on her for its love and survival.
 

The wedding service had been cold and informal, with the duke arriving just minutes before the allotted time. He had not looked at Eva when he placed the ring on her finger. It was an ugly gold band studded with different colored stones and seemed more suited for a man, as it was clearly too big for her finger. It now hung on a chain around her neck.

There had been no wedding breakfast and no celebration. All her silly, girlish dreams of tears, flowers and happy friends flew away with the other dreams she’d once had of a handsome, joyful husband who would declare his eternal love for her. The duke had merely taken her arm as the reverend uttered the last words and escorted her from the church. Outside, Eva had hastily hugged Reggie, her youngest brother, begging him to come and see her soon, and then, ignoring the rest of her family, she had climbed into the carriage.

Eva was relieved when the carriage finally drew to a halt at Stratton Hall. The atmosphere inside had left her tense and nervous. The duke had not spoken again, and the silence had been deafening. She could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes as she gathered her things. Yes, she no longer had to put up with her family and their demanding ways, but she now had to deal with servants and running a household. Admittedly, she had done so since she was a child, but this was a huge estate with a multitude of rooms and staff. Her father had been miserly and had relied on two servants and Eva to run his house. Surely Stratton Lodge would house many more. How was she ever going to fulfill her duties?
 

“Are you ready, madam?”
 

“I am, your Grace,” she said again, placing her hand in his and stepping from the carriage.
 

He released her at once and started toward the house, his feet making a crunching sound on the stones as he walked. She could not see the great stone building clearly in the dark, but she could feel its sheer size looming above her. Was she really to be mistress of this?

“Luton!” the duke bellowed as he walked into the house.

“Your Grace, we had not expected you until tomorrow.”

Eva stood just inside the doorway looking at the dirty water her husband’s large, booted feet had left on the polished tile floor. The butler was tall with black hair that was liberally streaked with silver and his mouth was bracketed with lines, which hopefully meant he knew how to smile.
 

“We made good time,” the duke grunted, motioning Eva forward. “Duchess, this is Luton. He is the butler here at Stratton Lodge and he will be the one who will help you settle in.”

“Your Grace.” Luton bowed.

“Luton,” Eva said, offering him a soft smile, although she spoilt it slightly by shivering. “It is a pleasure to meet with you.”

“Luton will show you to your room, Duchess. Tomorrow will be soon enough to meet the rest of the staff,” the duke said with a stiff bow before stalking away.

“This way, your Grace.”

Eva pulled her eyes away from the retreating back of her husband and quickly followed Luton toward the stairs. Lamps lit their way, yet Eva saw very little of her new home. Nervous and apprehensive, she kept her eyes on Luton’s very straight back. They climbed a long set of stairs and then walked down a narrow hall that had windows along the right side, though the curtains were drawn to keep out the cold night air. Her rooms were at the end and Eva held her breath as Luton opened the door and she walked inside.

“Dear heaven!” Eva whispered, moving slowly over the plush carpets.
 

Turning a full circle, she tried to take it all in. Surely this was not her room? Painted in the palest shade of peppermint, the walls blended beautifully with carpets of apricot and cream. There was delicate-legged furniture which looked too precious to sit on, and at the windows hung matching swathes of striped satin. The room seemed to reach out and welcome her while the bed was fit for a princess. How could she have ended up here? The daughter of a worthless gambler, a man who earned his living by stealing from others - surely she was not worthy of such a room. She trailed her fingers down one of the four turned posts that held up a gossamer canopy of soft white fabric before walking toward a window seat scattered with pillows.

“This is Molly, your Grace,” Luton said.

Eva turned to greet the young maid who was bobbing a curtsy.
 

“Shall I have a bath drawn for you, your Grace?”

“Yes, please, and some tea if it is not too inconvenient.” Eva couldn’t believe she was to have a bath she had not prepared herself.

“At once, your Grace.”

With the click of her bedroom door Eva felt the last of her strength flee. Burying her face in her hands, she slumped onto the seat. In one day, she had left the only home she had known for eighteen years, married a duke and was now going to live out her days in a mansion.
 

Eva’s thoughts went to her brother. How would Reggie survive without her? He worked for the local farmer, but at seventeen he was not a big man and too young to deal with the bullying ways of his elder brothers singlehandedly.

The maid returned with two footmen carrying a large bath. Eva had never seen one so big; surely she could lie flat in it.

“I will help you undress, your Grace,” the maid offered once the bath was filled and the footmen had left.

Eva had never had assistance to undress but she felt too tired to argue. Wearily she climbed to her feet and allowed the maid to pull off her damp coat.

“Thank you, Molly.” She felt color flood her cheeks as her dress was removed. Her undergarments were a dismal shade of grey and repaired several times over.

“I will return in a while with your tea, your Grace.”

Biting her lip as she stepped into the bath Eva felt the heat start to thaw her toes. Slowly she sank down, then lay backwards until only her head was out of the water.
 

So this is to be my life, Eva thought as her eyes did a survey of the room. She could find some peace here alone. Eva had no doubt her husband would not stay at Stratton for long. She knew he hated looking at her, being reminded of the fact that he had a wife he did not want. He would leave at the earliest opportunity and until then she would stay out of his way. Maybe in time her husband might wish for an heir, but for now she would be content with her life. There would be no more fear, just her and the servants. And they would rub along together nicely; she would make sure of it.
 

Molly returned with her tray as the water began to cool. She helped Eva climb out of the bath and slip into her nightdress. After she had drunk her tea and dried her hair, she climbed into the huge soft bed and fell into a deep sleep.
 

For one heart-stopping moment when she opened her eyes, Eva felt the same sinking feeling she’d experienced every morning when she woke in her small bedroom, located in the drafty attic of her father’s house. But then she realized where she was.

“No more,” she whispered, looking around the beautiful room. “They can hurt me no more.”

Climbing out of bed, Eva then walked to the windows and opened the curtains. It was still early. The rising sun cast a soft shadow over the land, and she had a feeling her new home was going to be a wonderful place to explore. She could see gardens with hedge-lined paths as well as beds filled with flowers and different varieties of plants. In the distance she caught a glimmer of water. A lake? She hoped so. Perhaps she could go swimming when no one was looking. Though who would be there to look, she asked herself, remembering the anger in her husband’s eyes and knowing he’d be leaving as soon as he could. Thinking of the duke made her heart plunge to her toes so she pushed all thoughts of him aside and hurried to answer the maid’s knock on her bedroom door.

After dressing, she left her room. Following Molly’s directions, she headed down the long hallway, stopping to look out the floor-length windows along the way. Her new home was beautiful but a little tired, Eva thought as she looked at the worn carpets that ran the length of the hall. Perhaps she could restore Stratton Lodge to its former glory.
 

“If you will follow me, your Grace, I will take you to the breakfast parlor.”

“Luton!” Eva squeaked, startled by the butler’s sudden appearance. “Good morning.”

“Good Morning, your Grace.” Luton offered her a smile before turning and making his stately way toward the stairs without further comment.

“Mrs. Stimpel, the cook, and Miss Sullivan, the housekeeper, will meet with you at your convenience, your Grace. Please let me know and I will take you to them when you are ready.”

“Thank you, Luton.” Eva suddenly felt queasy at the prospect of meeting the women.
 

The breakfast room had a faded red-and-gold patterned carpet and pale gold walls. She could imagine that in its day the room had been very grand. The table, thankfully, was not overly large and was draped in a soft white linen cloth. She sat in the chair Luton pulled out for her and noticed that only one place was laid.