“No.” She cleared her throat. “I must speak to my maid. Lilly is from the country and has much to learn.”
“Why not replace her?”
“Because I like her.” Would he expect his duchess to engage a superior lady’s maid?
His answer reassured her. “My valet is a rascally fellow. Although competent at his job, having made it his business to charm John Weston, who makes my coats, Hobby my boots, and Lock and Co, the hatters, he is not what you’d expect. Perhaps because he is not at all toplofty, I enjoy his company.”
“Yes,” she said, smiling with relief. “When one must spend so much time with a person in such proximity, one must like them. I never wished for a French lady’s maid like those my friends choose, although they say the French aretres chic…” At the sudden thought of his mistress, her voice petered away.You won’t hold him, the woman had said. Nellie drew in a sharp breath. “Lilly has much to learn, it’s true, but she is intelligent and very keen.”
“Jane, my mother’s dresser, might be of help.”
“Oh, yes. I’m sure she would be, that’s an excellent idea.”
“You worry too much.” Charles smiled and folded his long fingers over hers in her kid glove.
*
As they traveledthe short distance to Shewsbury Court, Charles observed his nervous bride. In the blue and cream striped dress, a stylish bonnet covering her hair, Nellie sat tensely beside him. She always looked beautifully turned out, so it appeared her maid from the country had already learned her craft well. Charles completely approved of her intention to improve the girl’s lot in life. It was a sign that Nellie’s view of the world matched his.
When they entered the house, his staff, from the butler, housekeeper, and footmen, down to the maids and the boot boy, stood on the black-and-white marble floor of the hall waiting to be introduced to their new mistress.
Nellie greeted each one in a friendly, natural manner, which was sure to warm them toward her. Charles approved. A happy staff was an efficient one.
When they entered the duchess’s apartment, her maid was busy in the adjoining dressing room unpacking the trunk. All thoughts of spending a few moments alone with Nellie fled.
“I have some work to do in my study,” Charles said. “I’ll leave you to organize your unpacking. We’ll dine at seven here in the ducal suite.”
With a nod, he left her, noting the panicked expression she cast him. He was aware he’d have to be careful. While they were physically drawn to each other, Nellie was an innocent, while the women he’d known were experienced. He wanted their first time together to be perfect for her. It would surely be special in a woman’s life and something to remember.
Charles sat at his desk and took out his estate books. They usually held his interest, but he found it impossible to focus. He moved uneasily in his chair. His lovely wife was upstairs, but she needed time, and rest, after such a taxing day. He sighed. “Bring me an ale, will you, John?” he asked when the footman answered the bell.
Charles forced his attention onto his books and took up his pen.
Chapter Thirteen
In her dressingroom, Nellie luxuriated in a perfumed bath, allowing the warm water to ease the tension from her limbs. Lilly then assisted her into a gown of russet silk and dressed her long hair in a loose bun.
The sitting room was cast in soft twilight when Charles entered through his bedchamber door.
A table laid for supper was placed before the brocade sofa.
When Charles joined her, she smelled his spicy soap, and the familiar heavy sensation settled low in her stomach. He had come from his bath and was dressed dishabille, in a royal blue silk banyan over his open-necked shirt, snug fawn pantaloons, and backless shoes. He arranged his long legs in the space, so big and masculine; he reminded her of a large jungle cat. A lion, perhaps. So sure of his control over his pride. She almost giggled as nerves made her tremble.
A pair of footmen entered, carrying trays of aromatic dishes. “Leave the bottle of wine. We will serve ourselves,” Charles said.
They bowed and left the room.
Charles poured them both a glass of wine as she served the meal. He leaned back to watch her. “Tell me something about your childhood.”
Nellie placed a portion of roast beef, potatoes, and peas on each plate. “I preferred to be outdoors rather than sewing or painting.
“I can picture you, a little hoyden, I suspect,” he said, as she placed the plate in front of him.
Nellie laughed. “I had a favorite old oak tree in the garden. I used to climb it with a book and an apple. I fell out of it once and skinned my knee. I still have the scar.”
“May I see?” he inquired politely.
She laughed and shook her head. “Mama despaired of me. I wouldn’t keep a hat on outdoors and freckled every summer.”
