“Well then, I’m sure if that is indeed the case, you did not dislike either of them overly.”
The old lady’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Dimity.
“I know of only a handful of people who will stand up to me. Raine and Mr. Alexander Hetherington are two.”
“And I make three?” Dimity asked politely.
For now she was warm and dry, and even Walter was warm in the carriage with her. One of her limbs may be going numb, as he was leaning on it to escape Romulus’s attention. The dog sat on her mistress’s knee and attempted to lick his face.
“Obviously you will live with me and be at my beck and call whenever I need you.” The old woman poked the maid’s ankle with her cane. “Unlike others in my employ.” The maid paled.
“I doubt you are the easiest of employers,” Dimity said, smiling at the maid, who looked about to faint. “Perhaps if you were a little more approachable and did not appear ready to dismiss them for sneezing, they may be more accommodating.”
The old woman barked out what Dimity thought was a laugh, but she couldn’t be entirely sure, as the carriage was pulling to a stop.
“You have the look of someone about you.” The duchess leaned closer as if to study Dimity.
“I’m not sure how’s that’s possible, Your Grace, seeing as your blood and that of the people you associate with runs blue, whereas mine is the commoners color of red.”
The maid’s eyes shot from Dimity to the duchess.
“Pfft, the blood that runs through our veins means little other than we were lucky enough to be born in a bed with fine sheets.” She dismissed Dimity’s words.
That surprised her. Dimity had thought this woman would believe only those of noble birth worthy of her time.
“Now out you get.”
They climbed out, and Dimity looked up at the residence. Nestled behind a black fence and gate was an elegant white town house. Flower beds held a bouquet of color, the sun coaxing a lovely scent from their petals. A white stone path led to the front door, and windows sparkled in the midmorning light.
“You have a nice home, Your Grace.”
“Is it?” She stopped beside Dimity and looked about her. “I suppose you are correct. One gets used to things and forgets to see them over time.”
“How lucky for one,” Dimity muttered.
“Sarcasm is considered lowering, but I’ve always enjoyed using it. Come along.” The duchess walked toward the house, safe in the knowledge that her minions would follow. Walter lifted his leg on a neatly trimmed bush before wandering into the elegant front entrance, as if it was something he did regularly. He then paced around the black and white tiles, inspecting the space with Romulus on his heels.
“My dog rarely takes to others, and yet she likes your beast.”
Dimity didn’t reply, as she too was taking in her surroundings. The entrance had soft duck-egg-blue walls trimmed with gold. A staircase swept up the side of a wall and curved with a twisted bannister and more gilding in the ironwork. It really was beautiful.
“Ah, there you are, Chibbers.”
Dimity watched an elderly man in uniform walk to greet the duchess. He seemed to glide across the floor, shoulders back and rigid in his black jacket. He had extraordinarily bushy brows and silver hair that was nearly white. His face was set in calm lines, eyes focused only on his mistress and not the large prowling dog and strange woman before him.
“Chibbers, this is Miss Dimity Brown. She will be my new companion, so see to it a room is prepared. Walter will also be living with us. He is allowed to roam.” Those sharp brown eyes turned back to Dimity. “I suppose he can be trusted with his habits?”
“He is quite the gentleman, I assure you, Your Grace. However, I’m not sure I completely agreed to becoming your companion yet. In fact, you told me I was.”
The maid, who’s name she really must learn, looked ready to faint. Chibbers turned his eyes to Dimity, and she was fairly sure there was something like a smile in them. Looking closer at his somber impression, she guessed she’d been wrong.
The duchess thumped her cane while drawing in a breath. “You have no employment or lodgings, and my guess is no money. I doubt you are in the position to quibble.”
“Oh, I always like to quibble,” Dimity said calmly. “In fact, quibbling is a favorite pastime of mine. Just ask Lord Raine.”
The duchess sucked in her cheeks, then turned. “Follow me, gal!”
She sailed up the stairs with remarkable speed for a woman carrying a cane, and Dimity followed. She was intrigued and not stupid. This could be an opportunity that would see her warm and well fed and hopefully allow her to put a few coins aside for when next her world imploded. Plus, it meant she no longer had to deal with Lord Raine, who was intent on helping her. This way, her pride stayed intact.
