a/n: sorry for the short chapter :(
***
Belinha's eyes were heavy with unshed tears as she sat beside the Duchess, barely noticing Lord Caldwell slinking out the door.
"I have never been so afraid that I'd lose the only person I've ever loved," she said. She was in the middle of detailing her past to Belinha, a stranger, whom she seemed to trust.
Belinha couldn't help but feel some sort of...pull to this woman. Though they may not have had the same experiences, they both knew what it was like to be lonely, to have no one but one person and to have that someone ripped away.
"You won't lose him," she said, firm in her words. "The Duke is a strong man. You are a strong woman. This is but a small obstacle in the path of a life full of joy."
"I hope so," she said with a sigh. "I don't know how much more of this I can take. I guess I'm getting too old to handle all this."
"Do not say that about yourself. You don't need to handle this alone because you are not alone. You have your sons, and you have me. Use us, instead of letting yourself carry burdens that you have no use carrying and fainting as a result."
The Duchess looked at her, startled. Her shoulders relaxed and she drew her into a hug. "You remind me of a friend I used to have back home," she whispered in her hair, breath tickling her ear. "She used to tell me things as they were."
"I hope that is a good thing, my lady."
She pulled back and moved away. "I should wash Alastair."
"Would you like me to help?"
"It's something I like to do myself," she whispered, her knuckles brushing the unmoving Duke's cheek. "It makes me feel like I'm doing something to help."
You are, my lady, she thought. She didn't say it aloud seeing the forlorn frown across her face. It wouldn't help her if she were to repeat it. The Duchess would have to come to believe it herself.
She watched the gentle way the Duchess wiped his hands and feet with a towel, wondering how two different people showed that difference did not mean bad, that love was possible. It was exactly as Luciana had described to her; fairytales about a coloured woman like her finding true love. That is when the words slipped from her mouth.
"May I ask about how you met? How is a love such as yours possible?"
The Duchess paused. Had she offended her by asking that question? Had she overstepped? She braced herself for her to turn and slap her, or throw the towel at her.
She is not Sir Pablo, she told herself. The Duchess did not look maddened at all. She chuckled. "We hated each other actually," she began. "I was accidentally employed as Richard's governess when I had no business here. Alastair was such an intimidating, rude man but he was also so caring. It took us a while of understanding to get us to the point we're at now."
So it wasn't entirely like the fairytales but to see it had blossomed made it even better. Her mind drifted to earlier when she had hurried to grab a glass of water for the Duchess when she looked a little pale. That was when she spotted the book Lord Caldwell was reading. She had seen Sir Pablo's mother indulging in novels, but never had she seen such a pretty cover.
She had always dreamed of reading like them. Being here would mean she would have a chance even if she didn't know how to read. She would learn. Somehow. She wanted to read Luciana's fairytales for herself and imagine the stories in her head, not merely hear them or have the same ones echoed.
Belinha had been so lost in thought that she hadn't realised Lord Caldwell had stopped reading to glance at her over the top of his novel. She nearly tripped over her dress as she scuttled away, head down like a mouse. She was such a silly buffoon for being caught staring. She knew this family was nothing like Sir Pablo or the other slave masters back in Portugal, but she couldn't risk her safety.
"Louise?" It wasn't until she called her twice that Belinha realised the Duchess was talking to her.
Right, Louise is my name now, she thought. "Yes?"
"You looked a little lost in thought."
"I suppose after hearing of your love story, I wish to read novels like that." She left out the part that she couldn't read because that would only raise suspicions about her that she didn't need. She needed to be in hiding for as long as possible.
"That's nothing to sigh about. We have a library right down the hall. It's Alastair's. He'll be grumpy at first but he'll get over it." Her choice of words was always so unusual. "There are an endless array of books you can choose from."
Belinha beamed. That sounded like a dream! A library inside this mansion made it seem like heaven. But she faltered immediately. Though she had gotten permission to read the books there, how could she? She didn't know how. How would she even start?
She inched forward, helping her with the bucket of water. "I will explore the library after the picnic. It sounds delightful."
The Duchess huffed. "I'm honestly sick of socialising when Alastair's all alone here."
"You should do whatever makes you happy, my lady. I only worry that you will faint again."
She shook her head. "I relieved myself from one party, I can't shirk my duty like that again. It'll also be good for you to see other people as well. I don't want you to be stuck with me, cooped up or feeling like I'm trapping you."
"Please refrain from such thoughts!" Her exclamation was one of genuine concern as the Duchess had treated her as an equal despite her status. In this short time, she couldn't imagine her thinking that. But, the deeper part, the selfish inner thought, was more afraid of seeing people who were somehow acquainted with Sir Pablo at the picnic.
She was far far away from the town that the ship docked them at and where Sir Pablo possibly lived but that did not mean she was free from danger. If he wanted her back, he would find her anyway.
Acidic bile tore at her throat, tingling and sharp.
She swallowed it down. "May I take leave, my lady?" she whispered, suddenly feeling faint.
The Duchess frowned. "That other night won't happen again if that's what you're afraid about." She glanced at the fading bruises that nearly decorated her arms just a week ago. "We won't let you get hurt."
A knock came at the door before it was opened, and Lord Caldwell sauntered in.
"Mother," he said with a bow of his head. "So you don't worry about our absence, Beau and I are off to see Weston and Devonport."
Belinha noted that he remained stiff, not glancing down at his father's bed.
The Duchess lit up, any sign of aging disappearing. "And he won't let you get hurt, either," she mumbled to herself. Belinha stared. "Sorry, let me rephrase: from now on, Richard will be your confidant."