Trevor released a heavy sigh and silently cursed his temper. He’d made her cry again. “Louisa, forgive me. I shouldn’t have—”
“Indeed, you have every right.” She threaded her fingers through her hair and pushed back the damp strands from her face. “I will leave first thing in the morning to find other employment. Although, at this point, I have no idea what kind of employment to search for.” Her voice broke and she bit her trembling, bottom lip.
Shaking his head, he stepped closer to her. “That is utterly ridiculous, Louisa. I’m not sending you away.”
She sniffed. “You should. I cannot do anything but destroy things.”
“I’m quite certain you can do something, but we haven’t found it yet.”
“You have so much patience, Your Grace. By the time we discover what it is I can do, you may not have a house leftstanding.” She swept her hand, indicating his attire. “Or any clothes to wear.”
Her comment—as serious as she tried to make it—made Trevor grin. “Oh, Louisa. I believe I have just discovered your skill.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You have?”
“I enjoy having you around because you make me laugh, which is something I haven’t done for a long time.”
Her face cracked a smile as she wiped away a stray tear. “You are being very humorous, Your Grace. But there is no possible way I can find work as a jester. It just isn’t done in this century.”
He laughed again. “No, my sweet. You will not find work as a jester.” Sighing heavily, he glanced down at his shirt. “Well, I suppose I should change. I have a dinner party to attend this evening.”
“I hope I have not made you late.”
“Of course not. Are you not aware that a duke is never late?”
“So true. Out of respect, they cannot serve the food unless the duke—or someone with the highest title—is there.”
“You are correct.” He tilted his head. “I truly believe now that you have worked at an estate at one time. You know your way around a manor, even if you don’t know how to work the different positions.”
She nodded. “I think you are correct. In fact, earlier this evening, I did remember something.”
Excitement shot through him as he grasped her hands. “Please tell.”
“I burned myself on the stove,” she said, lifting up her palm, “and I remember being a young girl and burning myself. My parents cared for me. Although in my memory I couldn’t see their faces clearly, I could tell they were dressed as you and your mother are. I don’t know what might have happened to them tomake me live like a vagabond, but I do feel these were indeed my parents.”
“So you feel like you were raised in a good home with noble parents?”
“I do.”
“Very interesting. I would love to test a few theories on you to see what you know. One I could probably do right now.”
“What is it?”
“I would like to see how many dances you know.”
Louisa stared wide eyed at him for a brief moment before snorting an unladylike laugh he thought was adorable.
“Me? Dance?” She shook her head. “I think not, Your Grace. Although I don’t remember my life, I would certainly know if I have ever danced before.”
“Come now.” He held out his hand. “Let us see for ourselves, shall we? Have you danced the Scotch Reel? We shall try that out first.”
“But…” She acted as if she would say more, but then paused a few moments before shaking her head. “We don’t have enough people. We need at least four more dancers.”
Trevor grinned. “Very good. You do know about that dance. Can you now show me what you would do if we had that many more people with us?”
Staring at the floor, she stood in silence, then slowly her feet began to move in the right direction. The fancy footwork required would be difficult if one had never attempted this dance, but Louisa moved through the steps perfectly. Every second that passed, her eyes grew rounder and her smile wider.
“Splendid,” he praised. “What about the Cotillion?”
