"Excellent. If you would follow me. Her Grace awaits you." She led them to the parlour with slow, measured steps, curtsied again, and left.
"Ah, Tewkbury." A tall man with a mop of dark hair drawled as he strolled into the drawing room.
"Rochford." Edmund's face brightened. "I thought you'd be here."
Ellen looked from one man to the other. "What. You two know each other?"
"Of course we do," the Duke of Rochford said. "I have often turned to Tewkbury for fashion guidance in return for advice on gambling. Though as far as I remember, gambling was never your forte, was it? I hear you have been kidnapping and marrying one of our schoolmistresses? Miss Hilversham won't be pleased." He slapped Edmund on the back with a grin. "Miss Robinson." He nodded at her. "Or should I say Lady Tewkbury, now?"
The Duchess of Rochford, more commonly known as Miss Hilversham, stepped into the room, in her arms a mewling bundle.
The words died on Ellen's lips. "What? When?"
"Last week. Meet Lady Iphigenia Marie." Miss Hilversham beamed. She was rounder, softer; her entire demeanour, dreamier. Motherhood evidently suited her.
"You must forgive me. I have received your letters, of course, but I was rather busy with this little lady, here. Rochford has had to take over the running of the school on his own, can you imagine? Instead of a headmistress, a headmaster, and not just anyone, but a duke! It is unheard of. A scandal. But we are getting used to scandals, are we not? You wouldn't believe how much our pupils are enjoying it." She looked at her husband fondly.
Rochford took the baby from her arms and cuddled her. "Lady Iphigenia is keeping us busy, indeed. And you must admit, I make a formidable headmaster. Everyone does as I say. It is most satisfying."
"Yes, but only because all the girls are in love with you." Miss Hilversham sniffed.
The raven-haired housemaid entered again. She was excessively pretty, and if she hadn't worn a housemaid's garb, one could easily have mistaken her as one of the pupils.
"Anna, get the guest room ready for his lordship and her ladyship, if you please."
"Yes, Miss Hilversham."
Ellen turned to Miss Hilversham. "A new maid? But where is Martha?"
"She resigned to take care of her ailing mother," Miss Hilversham explained. "There have been some significant changes since you were gone. But let us all have a seat."
Everyone sat, except for Rochford, who walked up and down, patting his baby on the back.
Miss Hilversham pursed her lips as she looked at Ellen. "I must say, I am most displeased."
Ellen's heart sank.
"Once I finally found the time to read your missive, I thought I must have misread it. It reads like a Banbury tale, all of it. First, delivering the poor child to the wrong guardian," her tone grew more and more severe, "then a pretend marriage to Tewkbury? Ellen! What on earth has ridden you to agree to such a scheme?"
"A pretend marriage? I've tried much in my life, but that's one thing I must say I haven't tried." Rochford grinned.
Miss Hilversham slapped his arm, but then smiled. "Too late for that, Your Grace."
"I say, our marriage was entirely legal to begin with," Edmund interjected. "And regarding Noni, Your Grace, the blame is not to be laid on Ellen's doorstep, but on mine."
Miss Hilversham lifted a slim hand and looked at Edmund severely. "I shall get to you later, your lordship."
He swallowed.
"Your letter, Ellen, was one of the most shocking missives I have ever read," she continued. "But, I must say this, for it is true: none of it would have happened if I had just kept the child to begin with. So neither of you is to blame at all. The blame lies on my doorstep alone."
"But, Eleonore,” Ellen began, startled, "You know that is not true."
"Of course it is. I don't know what I was thinking. Of course, I should have kept the child, even though he is a boy." She glanced outside the window and frowned. "The child is running towards the lake, by the by." She rang the bell for Anna and told her to send out someone to supervise the boy.
Afterwards, she continued. "My only solace is that you were with the child all the time, so he received the best care he could possibly receive. Seen in this light, it was a good decision to take on Tewkbury's dubious offer of marriage, if only for the child's welfare. No doubt you have had your own reasons, which you will tell me in your own time. As for me, I have lost my best instructress. Excellent schoolmistresses like you don't grow on trees, you know. What am I to do?"
Rochford stopped in his tracks with twinkling eyes. "Write more advertisements, of course. I shall help you with that."
