Death of a Duchess, Nellie Steele [non fiction books to read .txt] 📗

the child, so I laid Tilly’s blue scarf on his chest and swaddled him in a new blanket and took him. It proved to settle my nerves for the majority of the journey and even some of the service. Three of the girls from the brothel attended the simple service. I recognized the redhead who had given me Tilly’s scarf, the vocal blonde and rude girl.

They stood apart from us during the service. I smiled at them whenever they glanced to me, though for most of the ceremony, they kept their heads bowed. After the service began, Sir Richard Prescott approached, standing at a distance.

I stared into the rectangular hole dug into the ground. The wooden box inside appeared so forlorn, so final. Its plain brown façade a direct contrast to the bright colors of spring. It served as another reminder of the finality of life. I fought to keep hold of my emotions during the funeral, though they got the better of me when we said our final goodbyes.

A sob escaped me, and tears rolled down my cheeks. Ella quickly swept Samuel into her arms to allow me a moment to grieve. Robert steadied me and I wept as sorrow swept through me.

After a moment, I regained my composure. I squeezed Robert’s hand and wiped away my tears. Ella placed Samuel in my arms, and I focused all my energy on fussing with his swaddling.

As the funeral concluded, Sir Richard Prescott approached. He shook Robert’s hand before turning to me. “My deepest condolences, Duchess Blackmoore.”

“Thank you,” I replied, surprised by Sir Richard’s compassion in the matter.

“I was surprised to learn of your friendship,” he continued. “Always a surprise from you, duchess.” He raised his eyebrow at me, a wanton expression on his face. I had misjudged him. He offered no compassion. His curiosity drove him to seek out Tilly’s funeral.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Sir Richard,” Robert chimed in. “My wife needs some time to grieve.”

“Of course,” Sir Richard answered. “Good day and again, my sympathies.” Sir Richard strolled away, glancing back one last time with a lecherous wink. I stopped myself from shuddering.

Tilly’s workmates approached me. “I shall wait for you at the carriage unless you require my assistance, Lenora,” Robert excused himself.

I nodded to him in response.

“Might we take one last peek at the babe?” the redhead inquired.

“Of course,” I answered, smiling away my grief and focusing on something pleasant.

“He’s got a new blanket,” rude girl responded. “Big and fancy.”

“Yes,” I answered. “Duke Blackmoore and I made the decision to adopt the child ourselves. He purchased a variety of items for the baby yesterday. I have kept the scarf you gave me with him though,” I explained, pulling the blanket open to show them.

The redhead wiped a tear from her cheek. “Tilly’d be so happy he’s being provided for.” Another tear fell to her cheek. She reached to Samuel’s cheek and rubbed it.

“What will you name him?” the blonde inquired.

“Samuel,” I replied. “Duke Blackmoore’s father’s name.”

“It’s a good strong name,” the redhead said with a sniffle. After a breath, she opened the ragged purse hanging from her wrist and withdrew a few coins. “Seeing as your husband took care of all the expenses, we no longer need this.”

“Keep it,” I blurted. I pushed her fingers closed and squeezed her hand.

“I couldn’t…” she began.

I interrupted her. “You can and you will.”

She smiled in response, dropping the coins back into her purse.

The rude girl suggested, “You will. To make up for our lost wages. We better be getting back. Madame Blanche is already sore at us for coming.”

The redhead rubbed her thumb on Samuel’s head and smiled at him. Rude girl tugged at her arm. “Hurry now, Alice!”

“Just a moment!” Alice insisted. She spun back to face me. “A bit of advice. Stay far away from that man.” She pointed in the direction of Sir Richard. “He’s a no good louse, that one. You’d do well to keep away from him.”

I nodded at her. “Thank you,” I said.

Rude girl tugged at her arm again. With a wistful glance to Samuel, she allowed herself to be led away. I sighed, snuggling Samuel closer to me and returned to the carriage where Robert and Ella awaited me. As I approached, I saw a third figure at the door. Tilly. She stood opposite Robert, her blonde hair flowing down her back. The color had returned to her cheeks and her blue eyes sparkled even from afar. She appeared as she had in life.

I smiled at her as I neared the carriage. She offered me a tearful smile in return. “You will raise him?” she queried.

I nodded. Robert noted my odd gaze, glancing between me and my focus point. “What is it?” he whispered.

“Tilly,” I explained, without taking my eyes from her face. “She has come to inquire about her baby.” Robert’s expression betrayed a mixture of emotions including confusion, fear and discomfort. “She understands that we shall raise him. She is pleased.”

Robert replaced his aghast expression with a soft smile. Tilly stepped close to me. She stared down at the baby, her hand finding his forehead. “My perfect boy,” she whispered.

“We shall name him Samuel,” I informed her.

“Samuel,” she repeated. “Little Sam. It is perfect, Lenora.”

“It pleases me that you approve, Tilly,” I said, my heart soaring with contentment. “I shall always protect him.”

“Please tell her we shall love him as though he is one of our own,” Robert announced, his voice raised as though the dead were deaf as well as deceased.

A chuckle erupted from me at his tone. He offered me a strange look. I nodded to him. “She heard you. And she thanks you. If there is anything further you wish to convey, you can speak normally, they are not deaf.”

“Oh,” Robert murmured. “I did not realize she could hear me.”

“She can,” I assured him. “Though only I can see and hear her response.”

“He seems a kind man, Lenora,” Tilly responded, her eyes unwavering from her child. “I am so