Heartless by Jaimey Grant Read Free Book Online Page A

sprites. The room that was once dark with red and brown was now bright with blue and gold, earthy browns and greens, with warm golden threads woven into the tapestries and the carpet.
    This was the room she retreated to when the odds of her circumstances threatened to overwhelm her. This was where she went when she needed to think, or not think at all. And this was where she went when thoughts of her husband threatened to overwhelm her.
    She’d tried to immerse herself into Folkestone Society but Folkestone Society refused to accept her. She assumed they’d somehow heard of her illegitimacy. She had no way of knowing that her husband had managed to alienate local Society the same way he’d alienated high Society. They didn’t believe she was really his wife. But there was no way she could know that.
    Instead of trying to gain that which she’d never had—a place in Society—she instead focused on establishing relationships with each and every one of her husband’s servants, old and new. Her first conquest was Liza.
    Liza had always wanted to be a lady’s maid, she confided to her mistress. After a brief discussion with Mrs. Stark, Leandra promoted her to the post, confident the girl would prove her worth. It was through Liza that the new duchess learned of the other servants and of others who needed work. Leandra felt no compunctions about hiring additional help and saw no reason to inform her husband of any changes she made. It was due to her that he had his inheritance so it was only fair she decide how to spend that money. She had no idea how to contact him, so seeking his permission was moot.
    Righteous indignation wore off rather quickly, especially when the object of one’s wrath was not present to witness it. Leandra settled into a routine, thoughts of Lord Derringer little more than an uncomfortable reminder of her lack of style.
    Liza replaced her mistress’s wardrobe with all the frills and stylish garments Leandra could ever wish for. Or her husband could wish for, rather. For Leandra, despite having been raised in a home where the latest London fashions were regularly bestowed upon the daughters of the house, fashion had never been an interest for her. She was content to wear clothes that covered her, allowed her to move, and didn’t require much forethought.
    Returning her gaze to the bluebird previously forming beneath her fingers, Leandra smiled at the memory. Liza’s excitement had known no bounds.
    Leandra was sure the local gossips were positively agog with all the castle activity. Besides the summoning of the local seamstress, milliner, and staymaker, outdoor servants were hired in droves, any man, woman, or child who desired employment. Within the few weeks of her husband’s absence, Leandra transformed the castle grounds. She turned no one away, finding something for each person to do, even those whose physical limitations made labor difficult. It was no surprise to her when those from further off began arriving, all pitiful, all desperate, and all seeking help. Leandra remembered her own brief moment of desperation, those hours after her brother and stepmother threw her into the streets, and was unable to turn any of them away.
    Adding to the indoor staff meant she could fix all the misnamed salons that dominated her new home. Whoever heard of making the Blue Salon gold and orange or the Green Salon crimson? The resultant confusion probably entertained the duke to no end. As Leandra inspected every room in the vast castle, she made notes of what to change and what could stay. Upon entering the Egyptian Salon, she immediately turned around and never entered it again. How she despised that particular affectation! 
    Leandra soon found herself at loose ends but that didn’t last long. She’d given up on winning over the townspeople, settling for the good opinion of the estate farmers instead. When several learned a master of sorts was in residence, they swooped in on her with complaints,