Windsor faintly furrowed his brow, as if he himself had just been scolded. Noticing this, the woman sipping her tea curved her lips into a soft smile.
“As it turns out, he left behind a notebook for the day I’d be alone. He sat at his desk, forcing his ailing body, just to write it.”
“A notebook, you say?”
The Grand Duchess gazed at her teacup with a distant look and nodded. “Yes, a notebook.”
“They called me the queen of high society, but the truth is, there wasn’t a single thing I could do on my own. I left all household matters, big and small, to Gregory. Perhaps… he was more worried about me, the one who would be left behind, than about himself as he was leaving.”
Her quiet voice was steeped in regret—sounding like longing, yet also carrying a trace of resentment.
“From trivial things like handling…
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Emilybronte
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