Silk & Scholar (The Silk Series Book 4) by Cassandra Dean

Author:Cassandra Dean
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical romance, regency romance, victorian romance, enemies to lovers, historical victorian romance, grumpy and sunshine, grumpy and sunshine romance
Publisher: Cassandra Dean

Chapter Six

THE DINING TABLE WAS strewn with paper, empty teacups, and plates littered with crumbs. At the summit of the debris sat Gwen, muttering to herself as she scribbled furiously in a notepad. Flyaway strands of brown hair haloed her head and a faint streak of ink blemished one cheek. She also had three pencils adorning her upswept hair.

Head propped in her hand, Etta took a breath and refocussed on the page before her. They’d been in the dining room for most of the day, dealing with the business of organisation. They had a fete to organise, and another reading, and they had yet to determine the exact parameters of the scholarship. So much work lay before them as to be insurmountable, but she’d never let the impossible fell her before.

Exhaling, she allowed herself some relief, cradling her head in her hands. A pain had lodged itself below her left shoulder blade and her lower back was tight and tense.

The door opened. The Duke of Sowrith entered the room, the drag of his left leg almost imperceptible. Gwen didn’t look up from her work, clearly absorbed the papers before her.

The duke made his way to his wife, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. Blinking, she glanced up and, upon spying her husband, the most intensely joyful smile lit her face. “Edward.”

The duke returned her smile, the scar pulling at the left side of his mouth. “Busy?”

Her friend’s brow puckered. “Yes, dash it all. This is fair to drive me insane. What made me think this was a good idea?”

Brushing a kiss against her hair, he then proceeded to remove the pencils. “Because it is a good idea.” He held them out to her.

Absently, she took them. “Yes, I suppose.”

The duke’s gaze drifted over debris on the table. “Have you eaten?”

Gwen waved at the discarded plates. “Yes.”

The duke’s expression turned to resignation. “That is not food, Gwen.”

“Scones are food,” she argued.

“Have you had a break? Rested? You seem harried.”

“There’s so much to do.”

“That’s no excuse for no rest.”

“But—”

“You will rest, Duchess,” he said formally. His gaze flicked to Etta. “You, too, Miss Wilding-Marsh.”

She had been remembered. Wasn’t that nice? She nodded, resisting the urge to fold her arms tightly about herself.

Gwen glanced down at the papers before her. “I’ll just finish this last seating chart—”

“You will not.” The duke hauled his wife to her feet. “You will come with me, and you will rest.”

“But Edward—”

“You won’t do anyone any good if you wear away to nothing.”

Grumbling, she allowed him to usher her from the room.

Left alone with a mound of paper, Etta succumbed to her urge and wrapped her arms about herself. Gaze wandering around the room, she rubbed her upper arms. There was nothing familiar here, nothing of comfort. She was alone, again, and there was no one to care if she were rested and well—

Abruptly, she stood. Arms still wrapped about herself, she exited the room to stride down a hallway blindly. She did not know what she

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