She followed his gaze and realized he was staring at her drawing of Sophia and Lydia building their snow people. She remembered the list of acceptable and unacceptable traits men desired in a bride. An unacceptable trait was a woman who aspired to perfecting a skill as a painter. But she hadn’t set her cap for the duke, so what did it matter what he thought?
“Why is that surprising, Your Grace? She said it with a deliberate edge to her voice. “Have you never met a woman who painted?”
He seemed taken aback by her terse response. “My father purchased several portraits from women painters, but I have not seen them.”
“You haven’t seen them? Is that because they are of such poor quality, being painted by women, that they are hidden away? And before you ask, I attended Bradford College in Massachusetts, and my mother hired private art tutors. Which means I can discern a gifted painter from an amateur.”
“A school that accepts females,” he said evenly. “How extraordinary.”
“Is there something that you wanted, Your Grace?”
His eyebrows drew together. “Have I done something to offend you? I came down to break my fast, knowing you were in the dining area. Yet you left without finishing your meal, and I know you saw me enter. Are you avoiding me? I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends. Just friends. Thank you, Your Grace, for the reminder. If you will excuse me, I must see to my mother.”
****
Madeline stormed into her mother’s room and slammed the door shut. Her mother sat at the desk by the window reading a missive. When she glanced up toward her daughter, she folded it and tucked it into a drawer.
Frustration and anger twisted a knot in Madeline’s stomach at her response to the duke. The man was infuriating. Mentally, she knew the duke was the same man without a beard as he was with. But her heart screamed a different tale. She was pulled to the bearded man. He was approachable, flawed, vulnerable. The clean-shaven duke exuded confidence, privilege, and caution. Everything she was not. And worst of the worst, she had heard that he had been talking with Lady Montgomery.
Her mother glanced up and poured tea into her cup. “What did the duke do this time?”
Madeline paced a path in front of the fireplace. “Why do you assume this has something to do with the duke?”
Her mother arched an eyebrow.
“Very well. As you must know, I was in the dining room planning to break my fast. I heard him laughing and talking to his friend, Lord Dumont. When he entered the room, he looked different. Mother, he wore a formal jacket and breeches—and he had shaved his beard.”
“I am confused.”
Madeline drew in an exasperated breath. “He looked like a duke.”
“Heisa duke.”
“I know. But today helookedlike one. I could not face him, so I ran away and hid in the library. You know what he did next?”
Her mother added milk to her tea and stirred. “I cannot imagine. Enlighten me.”
“Hefollowed me.”
Her mother’s mouth twitched at the corners as she sipped her tea. “Did he ravish you? Compromise you? I am told that here in England that if a man is caught taking liberties with a woman, that woman can force the man to marry him. If he did compromise you, our problems are solved.”
Madeline rolled her eyes. “Mother, please. The duke was a perfect gentleman. He did not take advantage of me. We had a fight.”
Her mother closed her eyes and sighed. “That is what I love about English men. They have perfected the art of foreplay and hold all that lovely sexual tension in check.” She opened her eyes and winked. “Once it is released…” She sighed again.
“Mother. It wasn’t like that. He said we were friends.”
“Dear one, I warned you…” Well, you must forget about the duke and set your cap on someone else. Mr. Oswyn, for example.”
“He is in love with the governess.”
“What a muddle. Well, regardless of how you feel toward the duke and he you, I have learned through my informants that he and Lady Montgomery have announced a date for their wedding.”
“Then it is over.”
“It is never over until a couple pledges to love, honor and obey.”
