Bea laughed. “You don’t need to answer me, dearest: your blush says it all. I’m not surprised, really, given the way Knighton looks at you.”
“’Ow does he look at me?”
“How do I describe it?” Bea tilted her head. “Like you’re a deer and he’s a starved wolf?”
“Oh.” She widened her eyes. “You think so?”
“I noticed it even before I left for London. While Knighton was busy convincing himself that he had a duty to propose to me, he couldn’t keep his eyes offyou. That was why I warned you before I left. I was worried that he might propose something untoward, but instead…” A smile slowly spread across Bea’s face. “Instead he’s done the right thing and made you a duchess.”
“I want to be the lady Knight needs me to be,” she said earnestly, “one ’e’ll be proud to ’ave on ’is arm. I want to ’elp ’im with ’is siblings too—who, by the by, make my brothers look like perfect princes. I didn’t tell you all o’ it, but Knight’s road ’asn’t been an easy one. ’E’s ne’er ’ad anybody to lean on, not really, and I want ’im to know ’e ain’t alone now.”
As she spoke her thoughts aloud, her resolve grew. She could never be the angelic Imogen, but Knight wasn’t married to Imogen, was he? He was married to her, Fancy, and she didn’t come to this marriage empty-handed. She was her father’s daughter: what tinkers lacked in wealth and prestige, they made up for in grit, determination, and adaptability.
Why, how many times had she mended a broken pot or piece of clothing? Or taken things she’d found in a rubbish pile and turned them into objects others would pay good money for? She would use all the skills at her disposal to become what Knight needed.
She would simply fix…herself.
I’ll be what ’e needs,she thought fiercely.I’ll make myself o’er into a lady. I’ll work to win my prince’s ’eart.
“Youarewhat your husband needs.” Bea reached over and squeezed her hand. “You are beautiful, loving, and sweet, which is probably what drew Knighton to you in the first place.”
Fancy was too busy planning to pay full attention to her friend’s words.
“Aunt Esther will ’elp me with my clothes and ’air,” she said eagerly. “She says I must ’ave lessons as well.”
Bea pursed her lips. “Lessons in what?”
“Ineverything. She says I must learn to speak, dress, and act like a lady.” Fancy looked hopefully at her friend. “Would you mind ’elping me with…” She tried to recall Aunt Esther’s term. “Proper comportment?”
“I’m hardly a shining example of propriety,” Bea said dryly. “But I would be glad to point you in the general direction.”
“Thank you.” Bubbling with enthusiasm, Fancy suddenly realized there was something she had not yet mentioned. “And there’s something else. A secret about my past.”
She shared what Da had revealed about her origins.
“Goodness.” Bea’s lavender gaze rounded. “And there were no other clues about who your parents might be, other than the clothing you were wearing and the note?”
“None whatsoe’er. Da thinks—and Knight and I agree—that at least one o’ my parents must ’ave been rich.” She bit her lip. “Maybe a lady gave birth to me out o’ wedlock, or I’m some toff’s by-blow. Whate’er the case, they needed to be rid o’ me.”
Concern lined Bea’s brow. “Is it safe for you to be in London?”
“It’s been o’er two decades since that note was written. ’Ow could I be in danger now?” She shrugged. “But Knight says I’m not to take risks, and ’e won’t let me go anywhere without an escort.”
“I like your duke better already,” Bea murmured.
“’E’s a good man,” she said staunchly. “And I’m going to make myself into a lady worthy o’ ’im.”
“That is utter claptrap.”
At her chum’s sharp tone, Fancy blinked.
“I’ve been around so-called ladies all my life, Fancy,” Bea went on. “After I was scarred, they turned their backs on me, even those who professed to be my closest friends. None of them showed your goodness, loyalty, or heart. Any man who deserves you will see that: will seeyoufor the jewel that you are.”
Fancy was touched by her friend’s words. Yet if she were a jewel, she would be a diamond in the rough compared to the sparkling perfection of Imogen, Countess of Cardiff. Being born a duke’s daughter, Bea didn’t understand certain things…and perhaps couldn’t. Even when the winds of Fate had been cruel, she’d had wealth and privilege to buffer her.
Not having those things, Fancy would have to rely on her skills to win her husband’s heart.
“Even a jewel needs the right setting and polishing up,” she said lightly. “Speaking o’ which, Aunt Esther is taking me shopping this afternoon.”
