Scoundrel With A Noble Heart (sequel of Disgraceful)

Chapter 92

At the bottom, the butler materialized to guide them to the dining room, where the Duke and the duchess awaited. The duchess, a ravishing woman in her early forties, rose from her seat to welcome them.
"I've heard the fascinating story about your connection to my husband's long-lost brother. What an incredible stroke of luck! The two of you are a real godsend!"

"Your Grace, you are far too kind," Marguerite replied, attempting a curtsy despite the duchess' attempt to stop her.

"Nonsense with formalities, Miss Goddard. Marguerite, may I call you that?"

"Of course, Your Grace," Marguerite said with a touch of amusement. "Just call me Maggie."

"Then Maggie it is," the duchess declared, a warm smile gracing her lips. "And you, my dear, may call me Ava."

Despite their recent acquaintance, Marguerite felt an inexplicable kinship with the duchess. As their conversation flowed, the duchess divulged a curious story.
"Years before my husband even knew he had a brother," she began, a hint of sorrow in her voice, "he encountered a young pickpocket, a mere thirteen or fourteen. There was an undeniable likeness between them, one that struck me at the time. But mentioning it felt ridiculous. You see, his name was..."
Marguerite held her breath despite knowing what it would be.
"...Matthew," the duchess finished, a tremor in her voice. "Sadly, we lost track of him shortly after. When the secret came to light, a foolish hope bloomed within me. Could he be...?"

Marguerite's hand, gentle but firm, settled over the duchess's trembling fingers.
"There's only one way to find out. You have to meet Matthew."

The duchess drew a deep breath.
"We'd love to. As soon as possible. I pray Matthew can find it in his heart to see Uncle Carlton. The poor man is yearning for forgiveness, his spirit withering with each passing day."

As soon as possible? Panic clawed at Marguerite's throat. Matthew should be hunting them down by now, and this unforeseen discovery could throw a wrench in her entire plan.

"I'm leaving for London next week," The duke declared, his jaw set with newfound resolve. "I'll visit him at that club. In the meantime, I have much to repair here. It may take time to win him over, but I won't be deterred by the possibility of rejection."

Next week.
A wave of relief washed over her. The delay meant a reprieve, a chance to sort things out with Matthew before the next big storm.

"It's not going to be easy, Your Grace. But don't lose faith. With time, his heart may soften, he is a gentle soul." She promised.

After dinner, Marguerite found herself engaged in a lively conversation with the duchess. The lady escorted her on a fascinating tour, the scent of aged leather wafting from the library shelves as Marguerite admired its towering volumes. Meanwhile, the duke invited Jacob to his wood-paneled study for a chat over snifters of brandy. The next morning, a gleaming lacquered carriage awaited them at the grand entrance. Inside, a bounty of fresh pastries and chilled drinks sat beside several bulging travel bags. The duchess' generosity extended to a new wardrobe. On the far corner of the carriage, Chester nestled contentedly in his new carrier, a fancy wicker basket lined with piles of soft, fluffy linen.

With a warm embrace at the cobblestone driveway, the duke and duchess watched them depart.
'We eagerly await your return, my dear,' the duchess murmured, her smile gentle.

"We are forever grateful, Your Grace. May fortune favor your endeavors."
Marguerite waved goodbye, a heavy weight settling in her chest as the carriage rolled away.

"Matthew... I wonder how he'll fare,"
Marguerite sighed. Despite a pang of jealousy, Jacob reassured her,
"He is strong, Maggie. He has overcome greater challenges."