“I’m serious. I’ve put off my duty long enough. And since you two don’t pay attention to the business, I think it only right that you have your own households to manage. I will soon have enough for dowries for the two of you.”
“Katherine.” I shook my head. “I’m not marrying. And we’re only doing better because of the duke. The man you hate has stepped in to help us.”
Scarlett’s cheeks turned colors like she held her breath. “You don’t suppose she’s the reason he hasn’t come? Did you order him not to come back?”
“If it was that easy, don’t you think I would’ve tried that?” Katherine huffed. “He’s always here. I can’t escape him.”
Scarlett drummed her medical book. “The Duke of Torrance visits faithfully on Friday like he promised. He pays attention to Lydia, Georgina, and me. He’s never offended by your low-toned barbs. He’s a gentleman. And we think he’s in trouble.”
“Georgina, Scarlett, I mean it. Get out of the gig. Give me the reins.”
“No, sister. Why don’t you walk down to the coal office. Figure out how to save it without the clients the duke has sent.”
Katherine’s head dipped, and I felt sorry for how harsh my words sounded. But there was no changing my mind.
“What if I have to go to a client? You’re taking our only carriage.”
“This is a gig, Katherine. It’s not our coal wagon or our coal dray. Wilcox Coal has those two conveyances to move people and coal. You only have to send someone to go get one. Mr. Thom, isn’t that right?”
The little man had returned to rake the leaves falling from the cypress tree near the front of our town house. The March winds had shaken a few loose.
He looked away, still not wanting any part of our fight.
“Bye, Katherine.” Scarlett sat back and waved.
“Both of you, out. You can’t go to a man’s house in the middle of the day unchaperoned. It’s simply not done. The Duke of Torrance will not protect your reputation.”
That didn’t even seem true. This man had no reason to be of use to our family once his friend died. “If he cared nothing for us, we’d have never seen him again. Every week, for fifty-three weeks, he’s been coming to our door. Something must be wrong.”
“Katherine,” Scarlett whined. “Go back into the house. Have your morning tea. Grouse about our mission of mercy if you must, but we’re going to see the Duke of Torrance.”
“Mr. Thom, help me tell them how wrong this is.”
The poor man shook his head. “Not getting involved, Lady Hampton. I promised your father I would continue to make sure the grounds are good. Nothing else. Discipline is not me. Grounds good.”
Mr. Thom had emigrated from Mama’s beloved Port Royal, Jamaica. His English wasn’t the best. But he was hardworking, and we could trust him. “But if I didn’t have to rake or visit coal customers and I was a viscountess, I’d go see about the duke.”
At that moment, Lydia ran from the house and jumped into the gig. “You should’vewakedme up. If you think for one moment I’m not going to check on him too, you’ve made mistakes.”
“Haven’t we all.” Katherine covered her eyes. “All of this fuss over the Duke of Torrance?”
“Do we have another duke?” Lydia offered this advice with a grin, then a grimace. “We’ve waited long enough. He could be in trouble. We have to go see about him. He’s my bestus friend.”
Katherine’s fists balled before she flattened her hands against her hips. “The Duke of Torrance is a wealthy man. He has a full staff and can manage on his own.”
I’d try one last time to convince her, then I hoped she’d hop out of my way. This gig was going to Mayfair. “For over a year, the duke visits on Friday, every Friday, by ten a.m. He’s the first visitor to call upon us. He takes us on walks by the Thames. He brings treats and he patiently samples the tweaks I’ve made to my Cornish Fairings.”
“Well, obviously that’s the problem. You’ve made him ill from those biscuits. Too much ginger.”
Katherine’s tone was full of sarcasm. She knew my biscuits were delicious. The experimentation was to find the proper icing sugar for them and then to try and make something the duke called kartoshka, made with leftover breads.
“Wait. You’re saying my food did him in. Oh my goodness. Scarlett, look up stomach ailments. Katherine, move. We have to go.”
“He’s sensitive,” Lydia said. “He can’t be sick. If he dies, who will give us advice on spices or give us some from his homeland in Russia?”
Squinting at us, Katherine shook a finger. “You have been accepting gifts from him? I said no gifts.”
I pointed back. “Move.”
