Johanna strode down the hall, stopping a maid to point her in the right direction.Instead, the maid immediately abandoned her duties and showed Johanna herself, which she had not meant to have happen but was grateful for.She made a mental note to remember that maid for the future.
Johanna was not certain what she could do for her, but once she was the duchess, surely there would be something.Lady Stark had made it sound as though she would have dominion over the household.A daunting thought, but one which was made more appealing by knowing she could reward the staff when it was deserved.
“No.”Bridget’s voice drifted out of the open door, stubborn as always.
“Yes.”Lady Stark’s response was unbothered but firm.
Oh, dear.Bridget was arguing with Lady Stark?Johanna rushed into the room, pushing a smile that she did not feel onto her lips.
Lady Stark and Bridget appeared to be in a staring contest, while the duke and Micah watched with fascination but also appeared to be sitting as still as they could so as not to draw attention.Charlotte, as usual, was staring off into space, in her own little world.She was perfectly still on the large chair she and Bridget were sharing, her legs hanging down, feet hovering several inches above the floor.
“Hello,” Johanna said brightly.“What are we talking about?”
“French,” Bridget and Lady Stark said at the same time without breaking their eye contact, as if that explained everything.
Johanna looked at Micah.
“Lady Stark says we’ll need to learn some French,” he said tentatively, with a wary look at Bridget, whose scowl deepened.
“I am already going to have to learn dancing, embroidery, an instrument, math, reading, and geography; the line must be drawn somewhere,” she said dramatically, breaking her gaze away from Lady Stark so that she could look at Johanna.“You are going to be the duchess.Tell her I do not have to learn French.”
“That… is not… I am not…” Johanna fumbled over her words.
It was a good thing Bridget was not old enough to marry; she was already in the works to be a tiny despot.The last thing she needed was a duke as a husband to give her a taste of real power.
“Every young lady needs French, unless they wish for others to be able to speak about them without knowing what they are saying.”Lady Stark arched her eyebrow.
Bridget’s mouth opened.Closed.She frowned even more fiercely.
Then her chin tipped up.
“I will learn French,” she declared.“But that is it.No more lessons.”
“No more lessons for now,” Lady Stark agreed.
Bridget did not seem to pick up on the significance of the last two words, thankfully.She relaxed, pleased.
“I am going to learn the flute,” she told Johanna.“What instrument do you play?”
“Ah… well.”Johanna cast her mind back to her childhood.“I believe I mostly sang.Mother would play the piano, and I would sing.”That was before their father had died.
“Oh.”Bridget tilted her head.“I think I remember that.You do have a nice singing voice.”
“Thankfully, you do not have to take singing lessons,” Micah teased her.“You will sound much better with a flute instead.She has the singing voice of a donkey.”
“Micah,” Johanna said reprovingly as Bridget’s face flushed hot.“That was ungentlemanly.”It was true, but it was not gentlemanly to say so.
Micah looked at the duke, who raised his eyebrows at him.
“Sorry, Bridget,” Micah said immediately, rather than arguing.As annoying as it was to have Micah listening to the duke rather than to Johanna, at least the duke had agreed with her.
Bridget sniffed and turned up her nose.Charlotte hummed under her breath, still staring into space, hands folded neatly in her lap.
“What instrument is Charlotte going to learn?”Johanna asked, hoping to turn the subject.
Everyone looked at Charlotte.
She blinked.Focused.Smiled at Johanna.
