“I know what compelled her to answer my advertisement,” Dominic replied with a shrug. “I do not need to know anything more.”
Hugo leaned forward in the saddle. “You are not the least bit curious? One letter to an acquaintance of mine, and I can have all the information you would ever need about her.”
“She is here for Harriet’s benefit. Nothing about her interests me,” Dominic said sharply. “Indeed, her presence is an inconvenience, but if it means that Harriet is happy, then so be it. The woman will be gone in a month, and I can return to life as I like it.”
“A month? Why a month? Surely, you mean to keep her here for a year, until the next Season begins?”
Dominic huffed out a breath. “She has four weeks to get Harriet ready. My daughter does not want to wait another year and… I cannot keep her in my household indefinitely.”
“Harriet or Frances?” Hugo smiled as if he had led his cousin into a trap.
“Harriet, of course.” Dominic shook his head, wishing he had told Hugo to come back tomorrow after all. “Like any father, I am reluctant to let her go, particularly as we have been on much better terms in this past year or two, but it is expected, it is a duty, and I will not keep her from what she wants. And that is to enter society as soon as possible.”
Hugo nodded slowly. “I cannot imagine it. If I had daughters, I would pretend therewasno society, no world for them beyond the grounds of my estate.” He shuddered. “But I am just saying, you rarely leave this part of the country, you rarely leaveyourestate, you have no means to encounter new women, and here is a beautiful one of noble birth, who has come right to your door. I would call that fate if I believed in such a thing.”
Tightening his grip on the reins and deciding that his gelding had rested enough, Dominic clicked his tongue to urge his horse into a slow walk. “I will never marry again, cousin, as you well know,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “The entiretoncould send their daughters to my door, and it would not make the slightest difference.”
Hugo’s laughter pursued him down the peak of the hill. “Marriage cannot be as daunting as you make it sound!”
“Find out for yourself and come back to me with an answer!” Dominic called back, settling into the sway of his horse, his gaze drifting toward the faint, rusty smudge in the distance that was his manor.
I wonder what she is teaching Harriet now…
The thought crept through the blockades in his mind, bringing with it the vision of Frances’ beautiful—exquisitely beautiful—face at the breakfast table, and that ‘thank you’ smile that made him wonder if hehadwandered into a trap.
He should never have allowed her to stay the night. He should never have agreed to let her try and teach his daughter. He should have lied and said the position had been filled. He should have sent her away the moment she gave her name, for where there was scandal, trouble inevitably followed. Indeed, howcould he trust Frances with his daughter’s debut, when she was no longer welcome in society at all?
And yet, he had not been able to cast her out… and that unsettled him, for a true duke would have. His father would have.
“It is just for a month. Just one month,” he muttered to himself, as he squeezed his thighs and lightly tapped his heels, instructing his horse to run as fast and as far as it could.
Harriet is a better student than I thought she would be.
It had been a long day, with more frustrations than Frances had ever experienced with her sisters, but as she made her way up the stairs to her chambers, she was overcome with a good kind of exhaustion. The kind that came from knowing a day had been well spent.
Opening up the door to her bedchamber, she was surprised to find Catherine there, setting out a tray of tea things.
“Cathy, you do not have to do that!” Frances urged, hurrying to close the door behind her. “This is supposed to be your respite. A holiday from your tireless work at home.”
Catherine laughed softly. “You know I don’t like to be idle, my lady. I’ve been in the kitchens most of the day, making myself useful.”
“Oh, Cathy.” Frances shook her head, though she could not hide her smile. “Well, if you will not do nothing, then you must join me and Harriet in our lessons as of tomorrow. You can help me teach her about the latest fashions and what the ladies of thetonare doing with their hair these days, for I am hopeless at such things.”
The maid seemed to blush as she poured out a cup of chamomile tea. “I couldn’t do that, my lady. I’m no teacher of anything.”
“Then, think of it as passing along wisdom,” Frances said. “A debutante must know all of the latest favorites, and I learned most of that from Juliet and Lucinda. Please, Cathy. It would be such a comfort to have you there, and I cannot let you demote yourself to a kitchen maid.”
As Frances sat down at the writing desk, where the tea steamed most appealingly, she flashed a hopeful smile to her friend and maid. Meanwhile, inside, her heart fluttered in a panic, for if she could not prove that Catherine was useful, she feared that the duke might send her away. And she simply could not be here without Catherine.
Would he be so cruel?
Frances did not know, for she was still struggling to judge his character. The very fact that she had been permitted to stay suggested he was not completely unfeeling, and his actions this morning had been rather generous, but she could not forget the harsh words he had thrown at her last night, nor the steely look in his eyes.
“I suppose I could try,” Catherine replied with a shy nod. “What did the young lady learn today?”
Cradling the cup of chamomile tea in her hands, Frances began. “I believe we are getting somewhere with her dining etiquette, though watching her debone a fish would put many a hunter to shame, and I fear society will not find it as impressive as I did.” She paused. “I cannot even discuss how she ate her lemon posset, but the soup was a triumph, and she has almost figured out the proper way to use cutlery.
“She cannot embroider if her life depended on it. She knows everything there is to know about music but cannot tell me the name of a single poet. I do not think she reads much, and her writing is abysmal, and when I mentioned dancing, she did everything she could to divert me. But she is… wonderful, she is earnest; she is intelligent and witty, occasionally to a fault; she is desperate to debut, and I think… I think we can do this.”
