Her Graceful War Song

Samuel no longer dared to show his face. On the other hand, Mr. Claude began appearing before me rather often.

Several times, he brought his servant and stopped by the shop set up to sell the embroidery made by the ladies at our workshop. Over the past few years, we had built up a fine list of noble ladies and officials' wives as regular customers. I would occasionally visit to play hostess.

Truth be told, the embroidery had no trouble selling. After all, in the entire capital, few could rival Ms. Moore's needlework. It was only when dealing with wealthy clients that the prices were higher.

Now that the court permitted women to register as heads of their own households, many of the ladies were eager to earn enough money to purchase a small house of their own and live comfortably.

As I held the title of duchess and was cousin to the regent's princess consort, the ladies of noble families were more than willing to befriend me.

At first, Mr. Claude only passed by the shop with his servant, casting a glance inside as he walked on. But when it became a regular occurrence, he began stepping inside to make purchases.

Besides clothing and robes, the shop also sold smaller embroidered goods like fans, handkerchiefs, folding screens, and other such objects. Most were made for

women.

He never bought clothes-only folding fans.

In truth, folding fans were rare. We mostly made round fans, stitched from fine materials and embroidered with birds, flowers, and all manner of creatures. Some were even double-sided, with designs so lifelike they seemed ready to fly off the silk.

Folding fans were trickier-harder to make as silk brocade didn't fold as easily as paper. Still, we created a few now and then, simply for their delicate beauty when opened.

Mr. Claude was quite taken with them. Every time he visited, he would purchase one.

One day, I happened to be there, though not in the front hall. I was in the back room, going over the accounts, when I overheard him speaking with the shop assistant.

"Do you have anything made by the duchess today?" he asked.

"There's a round fan, but it's rather plain. We were planning to sell it at a lower price," the shop assistant replied.

"Truly? Show it to me at once," he insisted, sounding delighted.

A moment passed before he spoke again, full of praise.

"How can you call this plain? It's exquisitely done! I never imagined Her Grace's needlework was this fine. It's far better than the rest. You mustn't sell it cheaply; it ought to be priced higher. I'll take it, but don't let Her Grace know I bought it. Just tell her a certain customer was quite fond of it."

I felt rather embarrassed. My embroidery wasn't bad, but compared to the work of

the other ladies, it fell far short.

At such an awkward moment, I dared not step out.

I only heard him ask, "Her Grace didn't come in today, did she?"

The oblivious shop assistant cheerfully replied, "She did. She's in the back room."

There was only a wooden screen separating the so-called back room and the front hall. From where I stood, I heard the sound of a coin pouch falling to the floor, followed by a long silence. After that came the clink of money being placed on the table and the hurried thump of footsteps as someone dashed out the door.

The shop assistant stood stunned for a moment before muttering, "Why's he running off? No one's going to take the fan from him."

I, too, sat in the back in a bit of a daze.

I thought of Mrs. Murray and how she had persistently tried to arrange a match between Mr. Claude and I. Strangely, though I had always felt calm about such matters, a faint ripple stirred in my heart.

I had thought it was merely Mrs. Murray being overly enthusiastic. Surely Mr. Claude wished to marry a younger lady, someone who could bear children to carry on the family line, or perhaps someone to add charm to his home and be a gentle companion.

But looking at things now... Could it be that he truly had feelings for me?

Of course, just because someone

fancied me didn't mean I wouldnoveldrama

return the sentiment. Over the years, there had been no lack of gentlemen trying to win my favor. But once refused, they rarely made more than one or two further attempts before giving up. However, Mr. Claude seemed different.

His face rose to mind before I could stop it. Perhaps because I had seen him so

often of late, his features appeared especially clear in my thoughts.

He was strikingly handsome, refined in manner, and carried himself with quiet confidence. A true scholar, yet not weak; a man of both learning and steadiness. As a scholar from the Academy of Wisdom, his future was bright indeed.

But then, if he wished to marry, why not choose someone more suitable?

Cari told me not to belittle myself, but the truth was plain enough. I was a divorced woman. The only things I could truly offer were my title as duchess and my ties to the regent's princess consort.

I couldn't be blamed for thinking too much of it, for at court, many who lacked a strong footing often relied on powerful families to secure their place. Whether Mr. Claude was such a man, I couldn't say for certain. But I couldn't dismiss the possibility either.