“A termagant!” the duke finished, then he laughed again. “Come along, my love, your sister knows I’m speaking in jest this time. She’s younger than you are, and you know I don’t think you to be any of those things, despite your having been on the shelf even longer than she has.”
Beatrice decided they’d best get to the lessons before this line of conversation drove a wedge between the blissful newlyweds.
“What shall we do first to prepare for this delightful undertaking?”
Chapter Six
After dinner, Greerfollowed his hosts and Miss Rare-Foure —Beatrice, as he already thought of her — into a ballroom.Damn!The Pelhams had a ballroom in their home. A decent size, too, although he supposed any size ballroom was impressive enough.
“Now,” said the duke, “let’s see about your dancing skills.”
“What about music?” Beatrice asked from where she’d taken a seat by the double doors, changing into dancing slippers along with her sister. “Dancing is a challenge at the best of times, but to do so in silence—”
“I’ve taken care of that,” the duchess promised, jumped up, and rang a bell discreetly tucked in one corner.
Greer could get used to this lifestyle, and a titled lady would give it to him. Although at present the family estate in Scotland was a drafty disaster, he would bring it back to its former glory. Moreover, he would keep a comfortable London townhouse and let his lady wife host parties and whatever else she wanted. And then high society would be the norm, and ballrooms would become commonplace.
An older lady entered, and the duke crossed to greet her. “Nanny Beryl, so good of you to join us.”
“Hmph,” she said, and that was all, before going to the pianoforte that was located at one end of the room. “I need more light,” she yelled when she reached the piano bench and took a seat.
While the duke went to turn on the two central pendant gas chandeliers, the duchess explained, “Nanny Beryl was the family nanny. She taught Lady Penelope, my husband’s sister, to play the piano. She stayed on for all these years because....”
Trailing off, Beatrice’s sister looked to where the lady began to warm up, playing scales. “I have no idea why, to tell you the truth.”
“Do you think she will be your children’s nanny?” Beatrice asked.
Greer nearly laughed at the look of horror on the duchess’s face. “Gracious, I hope not! She is ever so crotchety and ancient. I can’t imagine letting her hold a baby for fear she’d drop it on its head. When I asked Henry about music, he mentioned her living somewhere in the house, the basement or the attic. For all I know, she resides in the mews out back.”
The toffee-maker laughed delightfully, and Greer was again glad he’d persisted in making the young woman’s acquaintance. She would make an excellent partner in this exciting endeavor.
The duke returned. “Are we ready? Nanny Beryl will start with a waltz. I know my wife can perform one quite well. What about you, Miss Beatrice?”
“About as well as my sister, I shall wager. And you, Mr. Carson?” she asked him in turn.
He had to confess. “I’ve never waltzed, not once.”
