Hunters

XI. Visitors

XI. Visitors

Her Grace, the Duchess of Cambria & Martisine
Martis Palace

28 June 1885

Madam,

How odd it is to address you thus. For so many years you were just Lecia to me, and now propriety dictates I must call you Your Grace. I am honored to do it, as I am the most happy for you and your advantageous match. I have heard that you are just settling in to your new home; I do hope that you find it at least half as splendid as I have found the park at Forneford. You simply must come to visit.

I write to share the most wonderful news. The physician has just confirmed that Henry and I should expect an addition to our small family before Spring arrives again. We are so joyous that our love has been fruitful and that God has been so gracious to bless us with this wondrous gift. I have faith that your union with His Lord Duke will be as prosperous as mine with Henry. Our families shall grow together.

Mother has told me that you and His Grace have been getting on well despite the chaos surrounding your marriage; I do hope you and father have forgiven each other now. I regret that we did not share this past season together as newly married women, but I admit that the holiday Henry and I shared in Italy was marvelous. I am much too excited for Christmas to give you your gift.

I am afraid I must go now. Though I am not yet a Countess, I have been given many duties.

Please write to me, as I do miss you dearly, and give my regards to your husband.

Your sister,

Zora Agnes Fenner

Lecia dropped the letter to her lap and gazed out the window in her parlor. Zora was pregnant. Of course she was; she and Henry loved each other more than anything. Children scared Lecia, but her sister had always been motherly. Lecia was delighted for her sister; everything was coming together for Zora, wasn’t it? Yet…a certain kind of sadness delayed any display of excitement.

A knock came at the door and Izzy slipped in. Looking over her shoulder, Lecia watched as the young maid hurried toward her.

“My Lady, the Marchioness of Brahmsboro has arrived. She’s waiting in the saloon,” the maid said quickly.

Surprised, but not particularly distressed by the news, Lecia instructed her maid to let the Marchioness know she’d be by shortly. Izzy worried how the Duchess would ready herself alone, but was reassured that Lecia would fair just fine on her own.

Alone again, Lecia stood up and folded her sister’s letter, placing it on the small writing desk by the window. She’d gotten dressed this morning to take a turn in the garden with Vaughan, but he’d become busy with something else much more important. She could have gone alone, but it really hadn’t seemed very exciting anymore, and then she’d gotten Zora’s letter.

Satisfied that she would look appropriate—and knowing that the Her Ladyship Catherine Shevington wouldn’t mind if she didn’t—Lecia left her apartment. When she arrived in the saloon, her guest was admiring the new painting over the fireplace.

“I bought that at the Academy,” Lecia said as she approached, glancing up at the piece.

“Well, my dear, you certainly do have an eye for scandal,” the Marchioness laughed.

“Whatever do you mean?” the Duchess smiled. “Edward Poynter is a respectable artist. I think this painting livens up the room quite nicely.” The painting was a nude.