Frances suddenly flashed into his mind: green eyes like late summer leaves, dark brown hair that had spilled loose from her bonnet, which he had briefly wanted to brush out of her face. A beautiful face, though surprising for a lady of theton: her complexion was not the sunless, porcelain pale that he knew society held in such bafflingly high regard, but pleasantly freckled, as if she were not terrified of the outdoors.
Small in stature, with pleasing curves that some might have considered ‘plump’ but he considered to be healthy and vastly preferable to a slender waif who looked like they might be blown over by a mild wind, she had made a considerably powerful impression last night.
When I moved toward her, why did she not step away?It perplexed him even now, for he was accustomed to peopleavoiding him. Preferred it, in truth. But she had stood firm, not only unafraid of standing in his path but reaching out to touch him, too.
He could still feel where she had touched him, like a bruise on his arm.
“I can come back tomorrow, if you like?” Hugo leaned against the newel post, his face flushed, blue eyes bright from the ride over.
“What?” Dominic snapped out of his thoughts, troubled by the fact he was thinking of her at all.
“I said, I can come back tomorrow, if you like? You seem occupied.”
Dominic mustered a dry laugh. “I notice you did not offer to help with the barn.”
“I know my talents, cousin. Hard labor is not one of them.” Hugo smirked with the ease of a man who reveled in humor and being around others. “I could offer moral support?”
Dominic shook his head. “It can wait.” He paused. “I do not understand why you do not stay here when you visit Bath, instead of riding from the city.”
“Because you do not actually want me to stay,” Hugo replied with a chuckle. “I do not mind, cousin. I know your nature.Besides, I prefer to come and go as I please, and I would feel as if I had to inform you of my every movement if I were to reside here.”
“Why on earth would you feel like that?”
Hugo shrugged. “Memories of my uncle, I suppose.” He feigned a shudder. “Goodness, he was strict. I shall never know how you endured it.”
“He was not strict, he just had high expectations,” Dominic replied gruffly, as he headed toward the breakfast room. “You might not be coming and going as you please at thirty years old ifmyuncle had had higher expectations. You are the Duke of Ravenvale, not an heir at his leisure.”
Groaning, Hugo traipsed after him. “Do not start with that, cousin. I hear it enough from my mother.”
“Maybe, you should listen.”
“It is not as ifyouhave remarried, though you have no sons at eight-and-thirty,” Hugo pointed out, drawing level with Dominic. “I do not pester you to find a new wife.”
Dominic sighed, a weary smirk lifting his lips. “No, I suppose you do not. So, perhaps we should speak of something else.”
He pushed open the door to the breakfast room and froze. It was not yet eight o’clock in the morning, yet there was alreadysomeone in there. Two people, in fact. One of whom had not seen eight o’clock in the morning since she was ten years old.
“Lady Harriet, please. You cannot… shovel food into your mouth like that,” Frances groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“But I am hungry,” Harriet protested.
“I realize that, but you must be dainty. You must pretend as if you are not so famished. Remember, you lightly stab the eggs,” Frances demonstrated, skewering a piece of egg on her fork, “then carefully pop it into your mouth. Never too much.”
Dominic found his lips parting unconsciously as she slipped the food into her mouth; he had never seen anyone eat more gracefully, though it was her lips themselves that held his attention a moment longer. Full and pleasingly pink, the shade of fresh raspberries.
What are you doing?He looked away, realizing at last why his manor felt so wrong today. It was because of her. A guest in his house who should not have been there, for she was never supposed to actually accept the challenge he had put before her.
Harriet chewed unhappily. “But who is going to see me eat breakfast?”
“Lady Harriet,notwith your mouth full,” Frances urged. “Swallow first, demurely dab the corners of your mouth,thenspeak. And it is not about breakfast, it is about dinner parties, of which there will be many if you debut well.”
Dominic realized he had not blinked in some time, so astounded by the scene before him. Not only was his daughter awake and eating breakfast at a reasonable hour, but she was dressed for the day, her hair neatly pinned into a braided bun.
“Dinner parties?” Harriet gasped, almost choking on her mouthful. “Are they as wonderful as everyone says they are? Will I be seated next to an eligible gentleman? Will there be twelve courses?”
Eligible gentlemen?Discomfort shifted like a slipped rib in Dominic’s chest. Of course, he knew his daughter could not stay in his household forever, but he did not like the idea of her marrying so soon. Considering his position as a duke, he reasoned she could have a few Seasons out in society before she even had to think about a husband.
It was precisely why he did not care if Harriet’s debut was a roaring success. Indeed, he would prefer it if it was not.
