Chapter Twelve
The next morning,Jenny’s breakfast was late again. The tray didn’t arrive until well past eleven when lessons had begun. The food was cold the porridge congealed and smelling faintly sour. She quickly replaced the cover over the dish. “Do you know, I’m not really hungry,” she said hurriedly, because William, smart boy that he was, had leaned forward to inspect the food on her plate. “It’s just as well, I have put on a little weight.”
The door opened, and His Grace strolled in.
“Father!” Barbara darted off her chair and ran to him. “Carrot was so funny this morning. He got milk all over his whiskers.”
The duke placed a large gentle hand on her head. “Did he, sweetheart?”
“Did Jenny tell you about how I climbed onto the tower roof and rescued the cat, Father?” William stood tall but still looked pale and tired.
“Miss Harrismith did, William. You are pluck to the backbone. And very resourceful.”
William went pink with pleasure. “I thought I saw someone in the corridor. But Miss Harrismith thinks I must have been mistaken.”
“Shadows can trick you, my boy. The way they sway about. It’s a reflection of the trees in the moonlight. Nevertheless, you did a splendid job rescuing the kitten.” The duke drew up one of the small chairs and joined them at the table. “Let’s see what you are up to.”
Barbara giggled. “You look like a giant, Father.”
He laughed. As he looked through William’s workbooks praising him on his arithmetic, Jenny swept the offending breakfast tray away onto a small console table.
“What is that?” His Grace’s sharp gaze missed little.
“Jenny’s not eating breakfast,” William said. “She thinks she’s too fat. Jenny’s not fat, is she, Father?”
“Not in the least.” The duke untangled himself from the chair. He walked over to where Jenny stood blocking the tray. “Let me see.”
She shook her head. “It really isn’t necessary, Your Grace.”
He raised a dark eyebrow. “You would refuse me?”
“I…” She met his questioning gaze and swallowed. “It’s just my breakfast.”
“At this hour?”
He put a gentle hand on her arm and moved her aside. When he lifted the cover a heavy frown creased his forehead. “When was this brought up?”
Jenny opened her mouth and then closed it again.
“It just arrived.” William came over for a closer look. “Ugh, it looks all dried up.”
Barbara pushed her way in past William. “Carrot might eat it.”
His Grace turned to her, a spark of anger in his eyes. “I would like to speak to you in the corridor, Miss Harrismith.”
“You’re not angry with Jenny, are you, Father?” William asked.
His father ruffled his hair. “Certainly not, William. Go back to your books. We shan’t be long.”
The duke strode to the door opened it and stood waiting.
Jenny hurriedly complied. Outside, George’s replacement, red-haired Jeremy, had left his chair. He bowed.
“Go for a walk for five minutes, Jeremy.”
Once Jeremy had moved out of earshot, the duke turned to her. “My son now calls you Jenny.”
Her heart sank. “It happened while on the roof, Your Grace,” she said vexed that he’d noticed before she could address the matter. “I didn’t have the heart to dissuade him so soon after the terrible shock he’s had, but if you feel I should.” She hurried on. “Although, I’d prefer to wait until he’s a little more…”
