The Contract Duchess, a Regency Romance: Key To My Heart Book 1

Chapter 5 - Anne

Anne bustled away from her sleeping mistress, mindful of the short time allotted for her plans. The grand foyer clock began its drawn-out monotone music denoting the arrival of the noon hour as she hastened to Master Robert's study. At the portal, she did not hesitate before giving the solid wood panel three firm taps.

A gruff voice bade her to enter, and she slipped through the door, shutting it behind herself with barely a whisper of sound to mark her passage. The master sat behind a modest desk set at an angle so as to take in the warmth of the fire and observe clearly any person entering this important room. The masculine scent of cigar smoke mixed with the musk of decaying paper into a heavy perfume that threatened to overwhelm her nostrils, but Anne could afford no delay, even for a sneeze.

Her efficient gait placed her directly in front of Master Robert as he looked up from the papers scattered over the desktop in a pattern only sensible to him. Ignoring his glare of annoyance at her intrusion, she relayed to him the importance and details of the missive to be sent to the Chesterton estate. His expression softened as she explained her intentions and his sister's conflicting emotions over the invitation, and when she finished her requests, he offered her a rare smile and encouraged her to proceed. She answered his smile with a small one of her own when he said he had a surprise for Angela that would ease her transit to the parlor. He insisted she send for him when all was ready before dismissing her with a wave of his hand. As she spun away to her next task, she heard the rustle of papers and the pop of an ink pot being opened.

In the hall once more, Anne thought of her mistress as her feet darted toward the servant's staircase. Unsolicited invitations rarely graced her bedside table, but rarer still did she so plainly struggle with the more severe limits of her condition. Given these observations, some key information about the late Duke's heir was unaccounted for, and Anne meant to uncover it.

Taking the steps to the second floor as quickly as she dared, Anne searched her memory for her first years with her mistress, before her lady's accident and her eventual inclusion in the Hollins household. Her employment as Angela's lady's maid had begun after Anne's own family - mother, brother, and new husband - had perished in a fire along with the family they had served. The family's solicitor had been so kind as to write her a glowing letter of recommendation, ensuring her continued employment, despite the tragedy. Her first years serving Angela were blurred by her raw grief, but a few details emerged from the fog of time as she opened the door that concealed the attic stairs.

At the top of the attic steps, Anne's thoughts were cut off as her footfalls sent up a cloud of dust, causing her lungs to rebel against the air. She nearly lost her footing and tumbled down the stairs from the force of her coughing, and in the end she retreated a few levels down to regain control of her breathing. Once she could inhale and exhale normally, she tugged her handkerchief from her sleeve cuff and pressed it over her mouth and nose before returning to the summit of the stairs.

The light from a small window to her left afforded just enough illumination to survey the closest of the room's contents. Her gaze skittered past the trunks and crates stacked neatly against the left wall, lingering instead on the cluster of indistinct gray shapes on the right. Her entire project hinged on locating a particular kind of furnishing, one too large for a box. The furniture in the drawing room featured classic styling, with one distinct nod to current fashion: every chair and sofa featured a low back. This characteristic drew the eye to the shape of an occupant's shoulders and the cut of their dress or jacket, but it provided little support for one too weak to remain upright unsupported. Miss Angela's presence at tea required a more substantial fixture in the room, and Anne hoped something suitable could be found among the house's discards.

Stepping closer to the shrouded lumps, Anne bent low to shift the grimy sheets, taking care to disturb the collected dust as little as possible in her search. Her third attempt yielded the desired results: a lounging couch with a high back, its blue and gold flowered fabric clean and unmarred by holes or stains. A minute later she tucked the filthy fabric that had covered the couch under her arm and began descending back to the main part of the house.