CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
Why did his throat suddenly feel this dry and his heart heavy before he could even ask a question? Mrs. Baker on the other hand sat down opposite him, fiddling with her fingers nervously. She had never been summoned by the duke before and given how he was acting, she was almost convinced he wanted to fire her. Had one of the helps not straightened his bed properly? Did the covers perhaps have some bit of stain that escaped her eyes? Was it the food maybe? She knew she should have tripled checked everything.
“Since she was sixteen,” he finally formed a coherent sentence, his fingers bunched in front of him as he leaned forward. How was exactly supposed to broach the subject when he could barely wrap his head around it in the first place? He badly wanted to believe it
