Chapter 8
Since it was late, Bella hurried to prepare the duke’s bed. Even without a personal maid, the room the duke stayed in was cleaned every day, so there was not much to do.
‘He didn’t fall asleep on the sofa, did he?’
After smoothing out the sheets without a single wrinkle, Bella straightened up and carefully checked the direction where the duke was. She wondered if he might have fallen asleep while waiting for her, since she had been late.
But contrary to her expectations, the duke was reading documents.
So the rumors were true. The Duke of Fraser really was a workaholic. The faint sounds she had heard while arranging the bedding had come from that.
‘It looks like he already drank quite a bit before I arrived.’
Even so, could he really read the small typed letters properly? Bella stole a glance at the duke’s profile as he focused on the papers.
The first time they met, there had been distance. The next time, she had been too flustered to look closely. Now that she could see him properly, his appearance lived up to the rumors.
A high, straight nose, sharp jawline, pale skin that stood out even against his bright blond hair. Perhaps because it was evening, a few strands of hair that were usually neatly slicked back had fallen over his eyelids. No matter how much she tried to ignore it, her attention kept drifting toward him.
‘Get a grip.’
Realizing she was staring at his looks, Bella shook her head hard. Sneaking looks at a noble’s face. This was all because of what the duke had said to her.
‘It’s just a name.’
She tried to think of it as nothing more than a convenient nickname. But even as she made the bed, the image of him thinking carefully about her name kept coming back.
Until now, whenever she said she had no name, people would simply nod and move on.
“Just live as you are. What kind of name does a maid need?”
Those were the words Miss Amelia had once said to her, back when Bella had stubbornly refused the names other maids tried to give her because she wanted to learn her real name from her parents someday.
After that, no one tried to give her a name again, and living without one became normal.
This was the first time.
The first time someone had asked her if it was uncomfortable not having a name.
…That was all. It was just because it was the first time.
“If you have something to say, say it. Don’t keep glancing sideways like you’re about to steal something.”
A low, flat voice interrupted her thoughts. His eyes were still fixed on the documents.
The words, as if he had seen straight through her thoughts, made Bella’s shoulders jerk. Did the duke have eyes on the back of his head? Embarrassed at being caught, she turned her face away.
“No, sir. I’ve just finished arranging the bedding. Before I leave, I wanted to ask if there’s anything else you need.”
“Leave where?”
“My room…”
“Why?”
“Pardon?”
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Bella asked again. An awkward silence followed.
…Why?
Bella’s mind raced. It was late and her work was done, so of course she planned to return to her room. But saying that outright felt rude somehow.
Remembering Miss Amelia’s warning not to upset the duke, Bella spoke carefully.
“There is no space for maids to stay in the guest room.”
“Oh.”
Logan looked around. When a personal maid was assigned, there was usually a small attached space inside the bedroom for her. This room had no such structure.
Tap.
He set the documents in his hand down lightly on the desk.
“Tomorrow morning. Six o’clock.”
Standing up with his hands in his trouser pockets, he passed by her and spoke quietly.
“You should go back and sleep quickly, Bella.”
It was neither an order nor a request. And yet, that single sentence lingered in her ears for a long time.
***
Two hours earlier than the count’s household usually rose. Early in the morning, Bella stood hesitating in front of the tightly closed door to the duke’s bedroom.
She had skipped breakfast and rushed out at his words to come by six, but now that she was there, her hand would not lift easily to knock.
A personal maid to the duke. Should she turn back even now and tell the head maid she could not do it?
“Good morning, Bella.”
Just as she lowered her hand, a man’s voice sounded from behind her. Slightly huskier than yesterday, yet still gentle, she knew who it was without needing to look.
“Good… morning, Your Grace.”
Lowering her face to hide her flushed cheeks, Bella turned around. He looked as if he had just returned from exercise, dressed simply, with damp hair.
“If you’re here, why are you standing outside? Go in.”
Logan strode forward and opened the bedroom door. Trapped between the door and the duke, Bella held her breath at the fresh scent that brushed past her. Her heart raced wildly, heat rushing to her face.
Tucking loose hair behind her ear to hide her reddening ears, Bella followed the duke into the room.
“If you tell me your waking time, I’ll make sure to come without being late next time.”
“How would you know what time I wake up?”
“If you tell me, I can adjust—”
“Isn’t six o’clock early enough here?”
Logan cut her off before she could finish. He was right. Six was far earlier than the servants’ usual waking time.
“Maybe that’s why no one ever comes at the time I tell them.”
He added casually, lifting the desk clock, its hand pointing to six. His tone made it sound as though he had been testing whether she would arrive on time. Reading her uncertain expression, Logan let out a small laugh.
“Relax. I’m not scolding you.”
He hung the towel around his neck over a chair and ran a hand through his wet hair. His gaze slowly traveled from the tips of her shoes upward, as if examining her, or more precisely, checking something.
‘What is he checking?’
Under the duke’s direct gaze, Bella froze like a snowman in winter. Though he had not criticized her, she wondered if she was overreacting. Still, without thinking, her hand drifted to her wrist, where he had grabbed her the first day they met.
‘He mistook me for someone else back then. Is that why?’
But hadn’t that misunderstanding already been cleared up? Thinking about it, it was obvious. There was no way a girl who had wandered between orphanages in Rosedale could have known a noble duke from the capital.
And the duke had not mentioned it again.
Pushing her spiraling thoughts aside, Bella prepared the duke’s breakfast. As she cut the bread neatly and filled the cup with coffee, Logan pretended to change clothes while carefully watching her every movement.
She had said she had never properly served a noble, but as he had felt last night as well, there was a quiet consideration in her movements.
The kind of sense one could not gain from doing only menial tasks. It was not the clumsiness of a novice.
“What kind of work did you usually do at the dowager countess’s residence?”
Logan asked as he slipped his arms into his shirt sleeves. Bella lifted her head out of habit to answer, but at the sight in front of her, she dropped the silver plate in her hands.
Clatter—
The plate rolled across the floor and stopped at his feet. For a brief moment, an awkward silence fell, with neither of them speaking first.
