CHAPTER EIGHT
“My lady, I must speak with you… privately. It is important.”
Rose had whispered the words in Grace’s ear as she sat with some of her women in her private solar. There was a ladies’ solar for all of the women, but also the duchess’ private solar, and that was where she sat now as she embroidered a rather ambitious scene on a large wooden loom. The chamber was comfortable, with furs on the floor rather than rushes, and fresh flowers that filled the room with a sweet scent that mingled with the smoky smell from the hearth.
But the duchess wasn’t alone in her solar today, much to Rose’s disappointment when she located her. There were other women, too, including Tristiana and another woman named Cecily de Leybourne. Cecily tended to be the duchess’ lap dog, always following the woman around even when she was told not to. Even now, the woman sat at the duchess’ feet. But Tristiana was over near the lancet window that overlooked the bailey, sewing a tiny garment for her coming baby, and she looked at Rose curiously when the woman whispered to the duchess. As Rose spoke, Grace looked up from her loom.
“Very well,” she said. “Send the ladies out if you must.”
Rose snapped her fingers at the other women in the chamber, helping Tristiana to stand when the woman had trouble rising from her chair. She ushered the women to the door and instructed them to go to the other solar, which they did. When Rose was certain they were doing as they were told, she closed the door quietly and turned to Grace.
“Thank you, my lady,” she said. “I apologize for requesting a private audience at such short notice, but it could not be helped.”
Grace genuinely liked Rose. The woman had been a great help to her when she first married Jago and she looked at Rose as a surrogate mother in a sense. Their relationship was quite mother-daughter, as Grace was almost subservient to Rose’s suggestions at times. Even now, she was eager to please Rose.
“Of course,” she said. “What is it?”
Rose had been planning how to approach this subject with the duchess ever since she left the garden where Lyssa had been attacked. She knew that Grace had no love for her husband, but there was the matter of pride. Therefore, Rose knew she had to be careful. She didn’t want the woman’s embarrassment at her husband’s actions to turn on Lyssa.
“I am afraid there was an incident in the garden this morning and I wanted you to know about it before you heard from anyone else,” Rose said.
Grace’s plain face filled with concern. “What incident?”
Rose approached the subject cautiously. “Lyssa was in the garden picking violets as you instructed,” she said. “She is a good girl, as you know. She always does as you ask. But she was alone. At least, she was until the duke joined her. When he tried to touch her, she pushed his hand away and he struck her.”
Grace’s eyes widened. “He did?” she said, aghast. “But… Rose, how could this happen?”
“Must I truly explain this to you, my lady?”
“But – but surely she must have provoked him!”
Rose wasn’t surprised with her response. Everyone knew that the duchess looked the other way when her husband bedded the servants, but for him to touch a noblewoman… that reflect on her personally. Rose knew this because the duke had bedded two former ladies-in-waiting since the marriage and Grace’s justice against the women had been swift. They had been sent far away and never heard from again.
In truth, Grace found herself hoping that would happen to Lyssa, too. She’d come to that conclusion on her walk from the garden to the manse. She would welcome anything to separate Lyssa from a man who looked at any woman as for the taking because she wasn’t sure she could protect her niece from the duke after this. Once he had the scent of the woman, he was like a hunter. He couldn’t let it go.
Therefore, she needed the duchess’ help.
“Lyssa did not permit him to touch her, my lady,” she said in a low voice. “You know as well as I do that any resistance to your husband’s advances is unwelcome. We have had this happen before, although you and I both know that we have tried to keep Lyssa from him. We have hidden her away, dressed her in shapeless clothing – anything to discourage the man. But he has found her and he is on her scent. I fear we must do what is best for you and best for Lyssa and find her somewhere else to serve. This was not her fault, my lady. She deserves an excellent position.”
Rose’s words distressed Grace. Aye, she knew everything the woman said was the truth. She felt shock and guilt at what she’d been told, but there was a large part of her that wasn’t surprised because it was exactly as Rose said – they’d been trying to keep Lyssa from the duke since she had arrived. But if Jago wanted something, he would find it, no matter what. The more Grace thought on it, the more distressed she became. There was no use in trying to drive the blame to anyone else.
She knew who was to blame.
“This is my failure,” she said after a moment. Slowly, she set the needle in her hand down, embedding it in the embroidery, before looking to Rose again. “Rose… I do not know what to say other than this is my failure. Did he injure her overly?”
Rose shook her head. “Nay, my lady,” she said, somewhat gentler. “He slapped her on the cheek. She will recover. But I cannot guarantee the same will be said for the next time he comes into contact with her.”
Grace nodded, averting her gaze. “I did not think him capable of striking a woman,” she said. “He has never struck me.”
“You have a powerful family behind you. Lyssa does not, my lady.”
“True,” Grace conceded. Her despondency was clear. “The duke and I spoke of Lady Lyssa this morning, in fact. I had heard rumor that she did not return from Westminster last night after pleading illness and my husband wished to interrogate her about it. I told him that I would do it. I suppose… I suppose he was unwilling to wait for me to speak with her.”
Rose should have known that the duchess would have heard the same rumors she did. Nothing stayed quiet for long around this place. “I have already spoken with her, my lady,” she said. “She is young and naïve. She permitted the knight who escorted her home from Westminster to take her to a tavern for food since she had been denied her meal at the party. Lyssa saw nothing wrong with that and assures me that nothing untoward happened, but she understands and agrees that such a thing will not happen again. She is very sorry if she has caused you any embarrassment in the matter.”
Grace eyed her. “Then she was not ill when she left Westminster?”
Rose shook her head. “Nay, my lady,” she confessed. “That was my idea. When Hawisa asked to meet her… we know how Hawisa and John behave. I could not subject my niece to their debauchery, so I was the one who made excuses for her and sent her home.”
Grace understood. “I see,” she said. “My husband was not happy that she left, especially with the prince’s wife asking for her.”
“I know, my lady. But you understand why I could not permit her to be taken to Hawisa.”
“I do. But I will have to make excuses to my husband.”
“Thank you for your understanding, my lady.”
Grace wasn’t happy that she would have to lie to Jago about the situation but it could not be helped. In fact, considering everything, she knew she had to make a few swift decisions.
“It seems to me that, given the circumstances, it is best we remove your niece immediately,” she said. “You know of the great houses in England. Where would you send her?”
Rose did, indeed, know all there was to know about the nobility of England, but her contacts were limited. Any request for relocation would have to come from the duchess.
“I have heard that Lord and Lady Brantham are in London this season,” she said. “They are an older couple with no children. Although I know Lady Brantham has many nieces, she might appreciate an efficient young woman like Lyssa. There is also Lady Belchamp; I believe she is in residence in Clerkenwell, north of the city.”
“Do you know Lady Belchamp?”
Rose nodded. “A little, my lady,” she said. “When I fostered at Thunderbey Castle many years ago, she was a good friend of my benefactor, Lady du Reims.”
Grace pondered the suggestions. “Then send out the necessary missives on my behalf and see if your niece can be placed with either of those houses,” she said. “Meanwhile, we will have to keep the lady from my husband’s sight. She will have to be sequestered until we can remove her.”
Rose’s heart sank a little but she knew it was necessary; keeping Lyssa sequestered was as much as putting Lyssa in prison. Hiding such a vibrant young woman away from the world was tragic at best, but there was little choice if they wanted to keep her from Colchester’s clutches.
“She does not necessarily have to be locked away, my lady,” she said. “We can send her on errands for you to keep her out of The Wix. That would also keep her away from the duke. Surely you have errands she could do for you, things you usually have the servants do?”
Grace considered the possibility. “I have my servants go to the Street of the Merchants every week,” she said. “They select thread for my embroidery, among other things.”
“I know, my lady. Those were the errands I was referring to.”
The more Grace thought on the suggestion, the more she liked it. “Then make it so, Rose. Send her on any errand for me that you please. I think it would be better to have the lady away from The Wix rather than here where my husband can find her.”
Rose was relieved that the duchess approved. “Agreed, my lady,” she said. She paused a moment, eyeing Grace. “I am sorry this happened again, my lady. When I brought Lyssa here, it was with an earnest desire for her to be a good servant to you. I am sorry it has come to this.”
Grace averted her gaze, looking at her sewing; hummingbirds and flowers, with mountains and vineyards in the background. She had designed it herself. It seemed that was all she had these days; her sewing and her women. She certainly didn’t have a husband, or at least one she wished to participate with.
“As am I, but only for your niece’s sake,” she said after a moment. Reaching out, she plucked away a piece of errant string. “You have been with me from the start, Rose. You have seen what my husband is capable of.”
“I have, my lady.”
Grace didn’t say anything for a moment. When she did, it was softly uttered. “I wish I had your niece’s beauty,” she said. “If I had, then I could have commanded the finest husband in all of England. Not the bastard cousin to the king, a man that no one else wanted. Did you know that? Richard offered my husband to four other houses before he made the offer to my father. Fearful that his ugly daughter should never marry, my father took it. Now see what misery his ambition has brought me.”
Rose knew that but she would not confirm it. She didn’t want Grace feeling any worse than she already did.
“Take heart, my lady,” she said. “Mayhap someday, the duke shall realize the treasure he has married. It takes some men longer than others to realize their blessings.”
Grace couldn’t even reply. Rose was being optimistic and they both knew it. Jago de Nantes would never realize the blessing he had in his wife, which was probably for the best. It wasn’t as if Grace was capable of returning any attention or affection he might have for her. That ability had been lost when her father had torn her away from the only man she’d ever loved, a servant in the house of her father. That was where her love remained to this day – a bittersweet memory of what had once been. It made the reality of what she had that much more sickening.
“Thank you, Rose,” she said. “That will be all. You may send the ladies back in.”
Rose didn’t say anything more. There truthfully wasn’t any more to say. Leaving the duchess’ solar, she was crossing the main hall on her way to the stairwell that would take her to the upper floors when she saw the duke enter the manse and head for his private solar. She glanced at him, briefly, but said nothing, scurrying up the stairs so she would not be in the awkward position of having to speak with the man. But it was times like that she wished she had a dagger.
She would have had no problem using it on him today.