“Lovely,” said Cynde sweetly, clapping her hands together once. “It’s all settled. You can manage, can’t you, Miss Trelayne?”
“Ah,” began Drew. Words escaped her overwhelmed brain.
The duke was unmarried.
The twins were his nieces.
Lachlan hadn’t been interested in hiring a stylist for the girls. She’d beenassignedto him.
And this wasafterDrew had insulted him in the antechamber.
Now the prince gazed lazily at his young wife, chewing a fresh date.
Cynde beamed hopefully at Drew with a look of accomplishment.
The duke stared straight on, his eyes stony.
Drew looked at her hands for longer than necessary, trying to summon the correct words. Finally, she said, “Thank you so very much, Highnesses, Your Grace. And yes—I can manage.”
The truth was, Drew knew very little about court presentation, although she could easily learn. The real challenge here would be an employer who had no wish to hire her. And whom she’d insulted.
Cynde chimed in, “You will not regret this collaboration, Your Grace. There is no match for my sister’s talents. Your nieces will have guidance on wardrobe, styling, manners, proficiency with hobbies and diversions, introductions, modesty—there are so many things Miss Trelayne can teach them. They will learn to navigate London, how to manage city servants, to write tactful correspondence, to make sparkling conversation. Best of all—and this is the bit that only Miss Trelayne can offer—she will teach the girls to believe in themselves. To be confident. To make informed choices based on their own best interest and to choose wisely.”
“Oh,good,” drawled Lachlan, his tone steeped in sarcasm.
Drew stole a glance at him. He looked trapped. He looked as if he’d been forced to endure a very long, verytedious meal, and now he wished only to go, but someone had suggested songs around the pianoforte.
“Brilliant,” said Prince Adolphus. “Off with you then. We’ve other subjects. You may mete out logistical details however you like. But please take note, we’ll be keeping watch. Cynde speaks routinely with Miss Trelayne. I’ll also wish to learn of the girls’ progress. Perhaps monthly visits to the Throne Room would be a useful tool in their training.”
“Oh lovely!” said Cynde, clapping her hands again.
“Very good, Highness,” said the duke, and he bowed formally. “Thank you for this... introduction.”
“You’re welcome, Lachlan. Now, there’s a good fellow. My steward will send word about that drink at the Ferryman. I’m glad you’re back in London, whatever the reason. It’s long overdue.”
Drew hesitated, allowing the duke to reply, but he said nothing.
“May God save you both,” Drew put in and curtsied again. “I am ever so grateful for this opportunity. I... I will not disappoint you, or the duke, or his family. As you know, this is my life’s purpose.”
“Of course it is,” Cynde enthused, her voice almost a squeal. “How very welcome you are. I am positively brimming with anticipation.”
Lachlan mumbled a curse beneath his breath and bowed again.
Drew hovered, not entirely certain if they’d been dismissed or if a footman would lead them out.
She glanced at the duke.
He stared at her with cold, impatient eyes.
Drew took a small step in the direction of the door, a test.
He made an exaggerated nod,Yes, that’s it.
Drew blinked, swallowed, and made for the door.
But now would theyleavetogether? she wondered. Must this terrible conversation be prolonged?
“Miss Trelayne?” the duke said, following close behind.
