The Lord and his Lady (Forbidden #2)

Chapter Four

Belinha had never seen anything like it. She tip-toed forward and brushed her fingers over the fabric. So soft, she thought, brows puckering. Was this real? "I cannot believe it," she found herself giggling. It vanished when she realised the Duchess was standing behind her. She snatched her hand back and whirled around. "I am sorry!"

"Why're you apologising? Explore, please!" She sat down on the edge of the bed almost in exaggeration; she looked almost comical doing so in that puffy dress. "I'll be right here when you're done."

Such a kind woman, she thought absentmindedly as she turned around to survey the rest of the room.

The wardrobe was a rectangular moulded cornice with marquetry inlay, and cross-banded in satinwood above the rectangular central door with a full-length bevelled glass mirror providing light in an otherwise dim room. Though nighttime, under the faint fluorescent candlelight, she could see herself rather clearly.

Her dark skin shone with sweat and her brown eyes looked sunken as if she had not seen sleep in months. Her curls were greasy in their braids and she winced at the image. Never had she been more embarrassed of the way she looked until then, surrounded by finery and luxury.

"I'll leave so you can take a bath," came the soft voice. The Duchess appeared beside the mirror and gripped her upper arms, smiling as a mother would to their daughter.

"May I truly?"

"What kind of silly question is that?" She then joked, "Were you not allowed to take baths at your last employer?"
She did not know the truth of that statement, she thought. "I'll bring some clothes over for you to sleep in just until tomorrow. Eliza will get you clothes that actually fit you."

"Your clothes have been wonderful," she rushed to say, "I love them very much. May I keep them?"

The Duchess stared at her as if she was a puzzle. "Sure, if you want," she said. She then sighed, surveying her to the point Belinha wanted to back away. "You're absolutely beautiful. I'm honestly so jealous of how smooth your skin looks. I get pimples almost every week, now."

Belinha shook her head, unsure of what to say. "You are perfect, Your Grace."

She looked around the room and clasped her hands together against her chest. "I haven't been in this room in a long time." Seeing the look of question on Belinha's face, she elaborated. "This used to be my room when I was the governess."

Belinha blinked. "The governess?"

"Oh, right, I should explain. I was the governess for Richard, believe it or not, before the Duke and I fell in love and got married. Sounds simple but it's a very long story."

She worked for the Duke as a governess and yet he did not discriminate against her? She was just like her in some ways! Belinha felt her chest swell, the tension of being around artistocracy diminishing.

"You and me...we are alike, yes?"

"Exactly." The Duchess squeezed her hand. "I always thought the lady-in-waiting would be someone who only saw me as a mistress and followed my every order. I don't like that at all so I'm hoping we can have actual, meaningful conversations."

"I would like that very much," she said, trying to halt the excitement seeping into her voice. Do not get too comfortable, she told herself. But she could not help it. This woman was very kind and respectable.

Richard was not her son in true blood. And yet that was not a problem to her or the family? This family is very strange indeed, she thought. Regardless, there was an unspoken atmosphere of love that she could sense.