“His paws are moving, and he’s making little woofing sounds. He always does that when he dreams of squirrels. When he dreams of dinner, he just drools.”
“A creature of distinction,” Lady Densham observed. “Knowing the difference between sport and sustenance.”
“Rather like men,” Lady Harbury added. “Though they confuse the two.”
“Agnes, really,” the Dowager Duchess protested, but she was laughing.
“What? It’s true. Lord Harbury, God rest him, once spent an entire evening at a ball discussing pheasant hunting with me. On our wedding anniversary. I finally had to remind him I was the prize he’d already bagged.”
The ladies erupted in laughter, and even Louise smiled. There was something infectious about their irreverence, their refusal to be proper elderly ladies.
“You know,” Lady Merrow said thoughtfully, “Louise plays the pianoforte beautifully.”
Louise shot her a look of betrayal. “I play adequately at best.”
“Nonsense. You must perform for us sometime.” The Dowager Duchess clasped her hands together. “We could have a musicale!”
“With refreshments,” Lady Harbury added.
“Proper ones,” Lady Densham said firmly. “Not just cucumber sandwiches.”
“And we could invite people,” Lady Harbury continued, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Eligible people. Tall, dark, ducal people …”
“I believe it’s time we departed,” Louise said quickly, standing so abruptly she nearly upset the tea service.
“But we’ve only just started plotting!” Lady Harbury protested.
“Which is precisely why we should leave,” Lady Merrow said, though she was grinning. “Before Agnes organizes something we’ll all regret.”
“I regret nothing,” Lady Harbury declared. “Regret is for people who don’t plan properly.”
As they prepared to leave, the Dowager Duchess pulled Louise aside. “Don’t let Lady Harbury fluster you, dear. She means well. She’s just incorrigibly nosy.”
“I heard that!” Lady Harbury called out.
“You were meant to!” the Dowager Duchess called back.
Emily had to be practically pried away from a plate of cakes Lady Harbury had produced, and Buttercup had to be discouragedfrom investigating an interesting smell in the umbrella stand. As they made their way to the door, Lady Haslett and her friends watched with poorly disguised curiosity.
“Lady Louise,” one of them called out with false sweetness. “How fortunate that Lady Merrow has taken you in during your difficult time.”
Before Louise could respond, Lady Densham swept past with the force of an advancing army. “How fortunate indeed that she found someone with actual conversation skills. Unlike some companions who can only discuss the weather and their ailments.”
The woman retreated, suitably cowed.
Outside, as they settled into the carriage, Emily looked up at Louise with wide eyes. “Lady Harbury is a bit silly.”
“She’s very kind,” Louise corrected gently.
“Can’t she be both?” Emily asked.
Lady Merrow laughed. “Yes, darling, she’s both. All the best people are.”
As the carriage rolled toward home, Louise found her thoughts drifting despite her best efforts.
The mention of the duke, she corrected herself firmly, had unsettled her more than it should. She could still feel the weight of his gaze from that morning in the drawing room. Could still remember the controlled power in his movements when he’d confronted her about Lady Merrow’s safety.
The way he’d leaned toward her, close enough that she’d caught his scent, close enough that for one mad moment she’d thought …
