28
The next morning,Fancy awoke alone. She was curled up on her side, facing the empty space that Knight had vacated, his pillow still bearing his musk. Memories of the night washed through her, accompanied by the faint ache of well-used muscles and the twinges of a megrim. Despite the reminders of her excesses, she couldn’t help but smile.
Goodness, her husband was wicked…and insatiable.
Then again, so am I.
As she stretched like a contented kitten, a sweet fragrance wafted to her, and she turned her head toward the table by her bedside. Her heart fluttered when she saw the bouquet of red roses, each bloom large and perfect, arranged in a porcelain vase. Next to them was a small paper packet and a glass of water. Sitting up, she reached for the note propped against the vase and read Knight’s bold scrawl:
My sweet Fancy,
Please accept the roses as a token of my esteem. The packet contains willow bark and will help with any megrim. I have placed extra guards on duty and informed the family that, for safety’s sake, you must all stay home today.
See you at supper.
-K
P.S. I am proud of you. Always. And if you need further help with your lessons, I shall be happy to assist.
Smiling dreamily, she plucked a flower from the bunch, the de-thorned stem smooth between her fingertips. She brushed the silky petals against her nose, inhaling the delicate scent and reveling in her husband’s gesture. The note and flowers were soKnight: thoughtful, sensually teasing, and gallantly protective.
Even if some mysterious villain wanted to harm her, she felt safe…because of Knight. Because, with him, she’d found her place of belonging. She had fallen in love with him, her prince who gave her a home and made her feel special. An image flashed of their future together: they would have darkly handsome boys who Knight could teach to be gentlemen and successful men of business, pretty girls to whom she could impart the skills of being a lady and a tinker.
Confidence and clarity bolstered her resolve. Her plan to make herself over into a duchess was working, but there was more to be done. Now that she had admitted the truth of her own heart, she could not settle for anything less than Knight’s love. Princess Adelaide’s soiree was in a few days. If Fancy could pull off a dazzling debut as the Duchess of Knighton, then maybe Knight would finally kiss her. In that magical moment, she would know she had his whole heart.
With all that in mind, Fancy did not want to waste a single moment of the day. After taking the willow bark powder, she breakfasted, dressed, and threw herself into her daily tasks.
She didn’t know whether it was her positive attitude or Knight’s “lesson” that was the cause, but her session with Mr. Stanton went exceptionally well. When her tutor exclaimed over her progress withh’s, commenting that she must be doing the oral exercises he’d prescribed, her cheeks flamed. She was, nonetheless, thrilled with her success.
The improvements extended into her time with Aunt Esther, who was astounded when Fancy managed to recite by heart several distinguished family trees from Debrett’sandwalked the length of the library with three books balanced upon her head.
The triumphs continued into luncheon. Instead of strained silence, conversation reigned over the table. It was led by Toby, who was over the moon about Knight’s promise to get him a puppy. He also chatted about the tricks he was teaching Bertrand. Eleanor, who’d been joining him and Fancy on their visits to the stables, agreed that Bertrand was a creature of singular intellect. She had decided that donkeys were vastly underrated due to commonly held prejudices against them.
To that end, Eleanor had started a club called The Society for the Equalization and Protection of the Rights of Asses, with Toby acting as Club Secretary and Fancy as Treasurer. The girl had even managed to rope Aunt Esther into being a member. Her aunt had agreed to join on one condition: Eleanor was not to bring books to the dining table.
A masterful stroke, Fancy thought admiringly.
Unfortunately, less progress was being made with Knight’s older siblings. Jonas, Fancy noted, acted bored throughout the meal and drank too much wine. To draw him into the conversation, Fancy asked him about his interests and possible professions he might like to pursue.
“A gentleman doesn’t work,” he said, aghast. “Unless it is an absolute necessity.”
“Knight does,” she pointed out.
“Well, my dear brother isn’t exactly a gentleman, is he?” Jonas said, sipping his wine.
“You will take that back.” Fancy scowled at him. “Knight is the definition of a gentleman.”
“No need to fly into the boughs.” Jonas set down his glass, his expression turning wary. “I only meant that he’s not aconventionalsort of gent. Sons of dukes aren’t usually raised in London’s rookeries, nor do they own factories.”
“You ought to be proud that your brother made his own fortune.” Fancy wasn’t going to allow him—or anyone—to disparage her husband. “And perhaps if you found something to occupy your time, you would be less inclined to waste it on frivolous pursuits. Idle hands are the devil’s work, my da always says.”
“What do you expect me to do?” Jonas muttered, pushing a drooping wave of hair out of his eyes. “Ain’t much for a well-bred bastard to dobutfrivolous pursuits.”
Despite the lad’s defiant posturing, which all of her brothers had adopted at one time or another, Fancy heard his underlying insecurity. Like Knight, Jonas was the son of a duke, but he’d been born on the wrong side of the blanket. And that could not be easy.
Gentling her tone, she said, “It wouldn’t hurt to try to find something useful to do.” A kernel of an idea sprouted. “Why don’t you ask Knight to show you one of his manufactories? Maybe he could teach you about his business.”
“I’ve no interest in becoming a businessman.” Jonas gripped his wine glass, saying with a slight sneer, “Besides, Knighton thinks he’s better than the rest of us bastards. To him, I’m just a wastrel and an unwanted obligation. He ain’t got time for the likes of me. For any of us.”
