Page 16 of Lavender’s Lost Duke

Meredith Dalrymple was the daughter of one of her mother’s particular friends . . . if you could call their mothers’ relationship such. Meredith had always been Lady Dalrymple’s perfect daughter, just as Rose used to be. A topic of conversation that never seemed to exhaust the two women, both remarking about their own offspring as if they were horses in a race. Lavender, though, was a couple years Miss Dalrymple’s junior. It was Rose and Bluebell who had suffered through most of the comparisons. Lavender was simply another lovely daughter, not one who garnered attention from either of the matrons.

An awkward pause stilted their conversation. Just because the girls had always been compared to each other in the past didn’t mean that had to continue. Neither of their mothers were here at the moment. It was worth a try to be friendly. The more connections Lavender could make, the easier it would be for her to find someone to marry. “Are you by chance a member of Mrs. Moore’s musical club?”

Miss Dalrymple pulled her head back slightly. “I am in the musical club. How did you guess?”

“I seem to be overhearing a few different conversations. Everyone talks about the lost Duke of Fenleigh. But after that, conversations turn to either music or sewing, and you were talking with the musical ladies.”

“Interesting.” She looked around. “I do believe all the members of our musical club are in attendance.”

“I presumed as much. Although there is plenty of refreshment for everyone here, the garden is only set up to seat about half of us. I wonder if Mrs. Moore accidentally scheduled a tea party for both of her sets of friends at the same time.”

Miss Dalrymple’s eyes roved over the garden. “The staff is looking a little harried as well. I wonder if you are correct.”

Just then, Miriam walked over to the pair of them. “Good day, Miss Dalrymple. How are you?”

“I am quite at ease, Your Grace. Tell me, are you in Mrs. Moore’s sewing circle?” Miss Dalrymple asked.

Miriam grimaced. “I am. Lady Rose convinced me to be a part of it, although I am the worst at needlepoint out of the entire group.”

Miss Dalrymple shook her head, her blonde curls swaying alongside her face. “I do not believe that. Now tell me, is your entire sewing circle here today?”

Miriam looked around for a moment and nodded. “Everyone except for Rose. Then again, I don’t expect to see her often until the baby arrives.” She turned to Lavender. “Would you be upset if we headed home early? Lady Gilfordshire is feeling a bit peaked.”

Lavender looked over at the dowager duchess. Samuel’s mother’s dark hair streaked with gray made her look quite regal sitting next to a shrub further down the path.

“Not at all,” Lavender answered honestly. “I am a bit hot.”

Miriam nodded. “Yes, I am as well. I’ve already made our excuses.” She turned to Miss Dalrymple. “I hope to see you again soon.”

Miss Dalrymple smiled at Miriam, and then at Lavender, a calculating glint in her eye. “I’ll call on you.”

Her tone sounded ominous. Never had Meredith Dalrymple visited the Gardner home with anything resembling good intentions. But perhaps that was more of her mother’s doing. Lavender knew how difficult it was to make friends when her own mother was near. If Miss Dalrymple came without her mother, there was a chance they could be friends.

Chapter 8

After only a couple days, Thomas felt the thrill of his new life waning. As it turned out, servants didn’t sleep as much as he was accustomed to. Also, he was never truly clean; he smelled like he slept with a pack of wolves. Could he keep up with a life of work? He was beyond tempted to throw his charade out the window and take himself to White’s to drown his self-doubt with something to drink. Or he could quit. It would be easy enough to do. If he revealed himself—after a long bath—it could all be written off as a lark.

But he didn’t have the time or the money to go to a club, and he was determined to stick it out for at least two weeks. For the hat, of course. Well, that and the fact that he’d never hear the end of it from Samuel if he failed.

He was just about to crawl into his too small bed when Mrs. Bitters called for him.

“Tom, His Grace wants to speak with you in his study.”

There really was no rest for the weary. “I’ll be there shortly, Mrs. Bitters.” He stepped into his worn shoes and went to see what Samuel needed.

Samuel was staring out the window when Thomas came into the room. “Have you spent much time with Lady Lavender?”

Thomas rubbed a hand down his hairy face. “Excuse me?”

Samuel tipped his head to the window. “Lady Lavender is out in the garden. What do you know about her?”

Thomas thought about what he knew. “The woman loves her books. The children and your mother adore her.” He stepped up beside Samuel and watched Lavender shiver on the bench outside. “She has terrible reactions to bee stings.” He kept his remarks short and succinct on purpose. He didn’t think Samuel wanted to know about the way she made him stand taller when she walked by, or that she smelled divine, or that he found the lady creeping into his dreams at night.

“She spends most of her nights outside in the garden. Would you be up to the task of making sure she’s safe out there?”

“Do you expect trouble?” Thomas looked around to see if anyone else was in sight.

“No, not particularly. But Miriam worries about her being out there alone.”