“Oh, I can wait out here for her,” Vanessa said.
“No, Vanessa,” Cassandra said. “As she sent the note to me, I would prefer to be the person to greet her, as you still require introductions.”
“But I know who she is,” Vanessa protested.
“Yes,” Cassandra said, “However, she as yet does not know you. In society, this requires a proper introduction. I will present you to her first, then I shall introduce you to her. That is how things are done. Now, if you will excuse me, I must tell nurse to have Alex ready to come downstairs during the Duchess’s visit as she wishes to meet him as well.”
A footman rushed forward to pull out her chair for her. She smiled pleasantly at him and left the room.
* * *
“Mr. Harold,please have a carriage brought around, the light, town carriage with the ducal arms on the door,” the Duchess instructed the butler as she descended the stairs dressed in her most formidable visiting attire. “And please request Mrs. Morrison to meet me in the Lady Margaret parlor.”
“Immediately, madam.”
As the Duchess walked down the hall toward her favorite room, she heard Gwinnie playing her violin in the music room. Vivaldi, she thought. She smiled. The footman hurried before her to open the parlor doors for her to enter.
“Thank you, Stephen,” she murmured.
She sat down on her pink-striped sofa and stared out through the glass-fronted double doors to the terrace. Oscar lay outside in the sun. She idly wondered what Lakehurst was doing, for if her grandson was in his writing lair, Oscar stayed with him. That Oscar lay outside indicated Lakehurst was not writing. She wondered if this situation with Lady Darkford was affecting his creative endeavors. She hoped not; however, she could conceive how it would.
Well, she would do what she could to help Lady Darkford. It would be an entertaining enterprise. And besides, she quite liked the woman. Though timid appearing in company, the Duchess felt there were depths to the woman that deserved to be brought forth. And the overbearance of her relatives was not acceptable. Though Lady Darkford’s uncle-in-law was born the brother of a marquess, from what she had heard, he had the manners of a cit—or a greedy moneylender.
The widow might make the ideal match for Lakehurst. She certainly seemed to interest him, and he did not seem to intimidate her, either intentionally or unintentionally. That was a good sign.
She could not believe the rumors she heard coming from the debutants of London! At least this was the end of the season, and most would forget their gossip over the summer. They could return for the little season without such missish nonsense bandied about. Too big a man. Bah!
Her grandson was a quiet man by nature, quite unlike his boisterous sister. But his emotions ran deep. She thought that was why he was able to write the books he did, books that plumbed the depths of people's emotions.
The parlor doors opened to admit Mrs. Morrison.
“We are to go visiting today?” she asked.
“Just to one place. We go to the Darkford townhouse. As you have no doubt heard by now, Lakehurst and Gwinnie did not have a good outing with Lady Darkford and her son yesterday.”
“Yes. Though more whispers concern your future actions, Your Grace,” Mrs. Morrison said wryly as she crossed the room to sit near the Duchess.
The Duchess grinned. “I can well imagine. Most of the staff have known me for many years.—They don’t bandy such talk to their peers in London.”
“No, Your Grace. They know that could spoil the fun of seeing what is to occur.”
The Duchess’s eyes danced. “Precisely. Though today, I must say I shall be more duchess in manner.”
“How do you mean?”
“From my understanding of things Ellinbourne and Lady Darkford have said, the Tidemarks have been quite repressive. They are interested, I believe, in keeping her under their control. This will not do at all. I think some embarrassment for their behavior might be in order. But we shall see how it plays out.”
Her companion nodded. “I can see I may regret leaving you for the summer to visit my sister. I shall miss the fun.”
The Duchess laughed.
* * *
“Your Grace,”Cassandra said from the doorway to the Darkford House visitor’s parlor. She’d seen the Duchess arrive through the street-facing windows as her carriage drew up before her home. She’d been apprehensive about the Duchess’s visit ever since she’d received the note that she would visit that day, but one look at the warm smile on the Duchess’s face, and the twinkle in her eyes did much to relax Cassandra. She hurried toward the woman, extending her hands.
The Duchess grasped her hands in hers, squeezing her fingertips briefly. “Well, I am delighted to see there are no lingering effects from yesterday,” she said as she released Cassandra’s hands and took a step back.
Cassandra blushed slightly and looked down as she ruefully smiled. “No, I am much better today. I sent ’round a missive to Lord Lakehurst to apologize for my behavior yesterday.”
