Duke of Desire (Maiden Lane #12)(29)

A marriage she could be content with.

Now she was thrown back into uncertainty. If he didn’t desire her—if he was actively repulsed by her—what chance that their marriage would be a happy one?

How could she live with a man who had rejected her so curtly?

How could she live without the children she so longed for?

Damn him!

Iris paused before the kitchen door, taking a moment to settle herself. Then she walked into the kitchen and discovered Ubertino picking up two steaming pitchers of water.

“The duke is ready for you to finish his bath and to shave him,” she said.

“Yes, Your Grace.” Ubertino hurried out of the room.

Two servants remained in the kitchen—Bardo and the one with the bushy eyebrows, whose name she still didn’t know. They’d been sitting at the kitchen table, evidently finishing their supper, and had risen when she’d entered.

She nodded at them and turned to go.

“Donna,” Bardo said.

Of course. He picked up the candelabrum from the table and waved her on. The manservants had taken to trailing her about the castle—obviously on the duke’s orders. Evidently he felt she needed bodyguards even inside the abbey.

She shivered at the notion, then shook herself and set her mind firmly on the task of changing the duke’s filthy bed linens.

She squared her shoulders and looked at the two men, summoning a smile. She pointed at Bardo and said, “Bardo.”

He looked puzzled, but he bowed and said, “Donna.”

She moved her finger to Bushy Eyebrows and raised her own eyebrows.

“Ah!” the manservant said, smiling broadly. He was homely, but the grin made what would otherwise be an intimidating face quite likable. “Luigi.”

She nodded. “Luigi.” She looked at both men. “Do you know where the linens are kept?”

Luigi and Bardo exchanged a puzzled glance.

“Linens?” For a moment Iris contemplated how to mime linen, and then simply gave up.

She was tired, it had been a long day, and linens were generally the purview of women.

She sighed and turned around in the kitchens. If there was some sort of cupboard used for linens it would probably be in the housekeeper’s room. And the housekeeper’s room was oftentimes off the kitchen.

Iris started for an arched doorway across from where she’d entered.

She stopped, making both Bardo and Luigi look at her in confusion. It was odd to think of all the people who had been living in this house until Dyemore came. The housekeeper, the butler, the maids, the footmen, and all the many, many servants needed to keep a great house like this one running even when the master was not in residence.

No wonder the abbey seemed dead—it had been gutted of people.

Iris shivered at the thought, remembering a rather vicious nurse telling her the gory story of Bluebeard. She’d been seven and had nightmares for months afterward.

Good Lord! She suddenly realized that like Bluebeard’s poor wife, she’d been given the keys to the abbey and had stolen into a locked room. Except these locked rooms contained only dusty furniture and strange paintings, not bodies.

Iris took a breath and shook her head at her own silliness. Dyemore had let the servants go; nothing sinister had happened. He’d said he didn’t trust the local people. Just because he’d recently rejected her was no reason to look for more ominous actions from him. Ridiculous to stand here making up stories to scare herself without evidence. She wasn’t a ninny just out of the schoolroom. She was a grown woman, a widow of eight and twenty years, and far too sensible for this nonsense.

With that thought she continued through the low doorway. Beyond was a short hall and then steps leading down into a wide cellar. She peered down. It looked to be a larder or wine cellar or both. In either case, linens would hardly be kept there—they’d become moldy.

She retraced her steps with the manservants trotting behind and went back out into the hallway that led into the kitchen. Ah! Here were several other doors. She tried the first and found it locked.

Fortunately she’d tied the key ring to her waist with a bit of string. Several minutes later she pushed the door open, just as the sound of Nicoletta’s heels came along the corridor. The maidservant joined the little party.

Iris looked inside.

The room contained several cupboards, chests, and shelves, and they held what was probably everything that the housekeeper would keep under lock and key. Spices, sugar, medicines, beeswax, nuts and dried fruit, the silver, and the good linens.

Iris crossed to the largest cupboard and opened the door, revealing stacks of snowy white linens. She couldn’t help an exclamation of satisfaction as she inhaled the scent of cedarwood.

She had started to gather some of the linens when Nicoletta said, “No.”

Startled, Iris turned to look at her.

The maidservant shook her head emphatically and went to one of the chests to open it, then rummaged among what looked like older linens. She grunted finally and straightened with two sheets that, while clean, were frayed at the edges.

Iris stared. The sheets Nicoletta held looked as if they had been kept only to be used as rags. But the older woman was moving to the door with her burden. Perhaps she had a use for them other than for the duke’s bed?

“No, wait,” Iris called.

Nicoletta turned, frowning.