Tamara's POV
Haldfast Manor
The carriage ride to Haldfast Manor was both nervous and exciting. Elias kept glancing out the window, muttering about the strangeness of it all. Me, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the grand manor that came into view as we approached.
The sprawling manor house seemed to belong to a different world, one far removed from my humble cottage in Bury Street.
As we alighted, the Duke barked a curt order, and a young man with a nervous demeanor hurried forward. "Frey," the Duke said, "show our guests to their rooms. Discreetly."
Frey, his eyes wide with barely suppressed curiosity, bowed low. "Of course, Your Grace."
The manor's interior was even more breathtaking than its exterior. We walked on plush carpets, past towering portraits of stern-faced ancestors. Finally, we reached a double door, which Frey swung open.
"These will be your chambers, my Lady," he said, gesturing towards the larger door. "The young master can use the adjoining room."
Elias and I exchanged wide-eyed glances. These weren't rooms – they were private havens fit for royalty. Four-poster beds draped in silk, richly furnished sitting areas, and even private balconies overlooking gardens – it was a world away from our simple lives in Bury Street.
As Frey closed the door behind us, Elias let out a low yell. "This is… incredible," he breathed, running a hand over the plush velvet armchair.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, emotions filling me. Relief, excitement and trepidation – this unexpected turn of events had thrown my life into complete disarray. Here we were, a commoner and a street urchin, guests in the Duke's own manor.
Elias placed a hand on my shoulders, "Thank you, Tamara," Elias said, his voice was filled with gratitude. "If it weren't for you, we'd still be stuck in your tiny cottage, brewing potions under dim candlelight."
I chuckled. "Don't thank me," I replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you for believing in me, for pushing me to take that chance today. We wouldn't be here without you."
There was a comfortable silence between us, this was a new chapter, a chance we never dared to dream of. Suddenly, the door creaked open, and the Duke entered the room.
"My Lady," he addressed me, his voice was formal. "May I have a word?"
I nodded, following him out of the room. We stopped a short distance down the hallway, away from prying ears.
"There are a few… rules, for your stay here," he began, his was voice low.
"Discretion is paramount. You will take orders from Frey, he is my trusted servant, and he will see to your every need."
I nodded. "Of course, Your Grace."
"Anything you require," he continued, his voice softening slightly, "you will be provided for. Consider it a small token of… appreciation."
"Anything," he repeated whilst staring at me in the eyes, "for the lady who can stop my nightmares."
There was something in the way he said it, the intensity in his eyes that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Thank you, Your Grace," I stammered, suddenly overcome with shyness.
"I, uh… I need to get ready for bed," I mumbled.
The Duke offered a curt nod and turned to leave. Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he paused at the doorway. "My lady," he said over his shoulder, "I never got your name."
"Tamara, my name is Tamara Herwick." I replied. With that, he turned and disappeared as quickly as he had arrived, leaving me and Elias alone once more.
Duke Leonard's POV
I followed Frey into a secluded corner of the manor. "Frey," I said, "you understand the importance of discretion. No one, and I mean no one, is to know about our… guests."
Frey, a picture of loyalty placed a hand over his heart. "I swear on my own mother's grave, Your Grace. Not a word will escape these lips. Not even to your… mother."
"Good," I said with relief washing over me.
Just as we reached the end of the corridor, we heard a laughter, rich and unfamiliar, echoing through the halls. My mother? Laughing this late at night?
"Frey," I commanded, my voice was filled with urgency. "Fetch Harold. Now."
As Frey scurried away, I found myself drawn towards the source of the laughter. Peering through a window, I caught a glimpse of my mother strolling through the garden, her arm linked with a woman I didn't recognize. Her blonde hair shone bright under the moonlight, and a smile, so genuine, graced her lips.
"What the fuck has mother done?" I muttered, my fists clenching at my sides.
Harold appeared by my side, his brow furrowed in response to my summons. "Your Grace?"
"Why is my mother back in Haldfast Manor so late?" I demanded.
Harold's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Back, Your Grace? I wasn't aware…" He trailed off.
"Then who is that woman with her?" I growled, gesturing towards the window.
Harold's eyes widened as he followed my gaze. "By the gods," he said, his voice was a mere whisper. "There is another woman with your mother, and… I don't recognize her."
My jaw clenched. Deciding to confront her directly, I marched out of the room and into the gardens. There she was, Mother dearest, her smile turning even wider as she caught sight of me. "Leonard, darling!" she exclaimed. "So good to see you."
But my gaze bypassed her, landing on the woman beside her. "And who might this be?" I asked.
The woman stepped forward with a polite curtsy. "Calista, Your Grace," she said, her voice was soft.
"Calista?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "Has it slipped my mind, or have I not had the pleasure of meeting you before?"
Embarrassment, or perhaps shock, crossed Calista's face. "Oh, Leonard, you're being so silly!" Mother chimed in. "Calista, dear, why don't you make yourself comfortable inside? The servants will help you with your things from the carriage."
My blood ran cold. "Her things?" I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mother's smile disappeared slightly. "Yes, Leonard," she replied, "Calista will be moving in with us."
"Since when did you start making decisions about the manor without discussing them with me?"
Anger flared in my mother's eyes. "Leonard," she snapped, "don't take that tone with me! I am still your mother."
"And I am still the Duke!" I retorted. "This manor isn't yours to do with as you please!"
Before the argument could escalate further, my mother raised a hand and slapped me across my face.
"You will learn some respect, Leonard Haldfast." she said, her voice was trembling with emotion. "I may be getting old, but I am still your mother, and I am still the Duchess of Haldfast. Don't you dare forget that!"
Tears welled up in her eyes, her voice was breaking. "You need to understand the pressure I face every day. I need to know there will be a true successor. If your father… if he were alive…"
I felt sympathy for my mother, "Alright, Mother," I sighed, the fight draining out of me. "Who is this Calista? And what is her… purpose?"
My mother's tears dried instantly. She wiped her face with a lace handkerchief. "Calista, first daughter of Lord Felix," she declared, "is your bride."