Page 40 of Saved By the Rakish Duke

In a few short minutes, they found themselves in the drawing room, where the servants had set up the refreshments as Duncan had requested.

Lady Penelope offered to pour both of them some tea.

He thanked her as he accepted his cup. “Have you been studying?” he grinned, leaning back into his chair.

“Of course,” she scoffed, lightly blowing the steam off her cup. “You’re the sort of person who likes to spring surprises on the unsuspecting. So, I wanted to be as ready as possible at all times.”

“A wise choice,” Duncan commended her, “and before we begin, do you have anything to add about our previous lesson? I don’t like to assume, but based on my observations at the garden party, you seemed to find my pointers quite useful.”

“It isn’t gentlemanly to gloat.” She clicked her tongue at him, “But yes, it’s a good thing we rehearsed beforehand as it helped me steady my nerves. Why? Did I do something wrong at the party?”

“Not at all,” he assured her, reaching for a biscuit. “Though now that I think about it, I was wondering what on earth you, Tresney, and Larkspur were laughing so hard about.”

“Oh yes!” she gasped in realization, already starting to giggle. “But I don’t know how to tell it exactly like Lord Tresney did.”

“Ah… was it a joke?” Duncan swallowed before adding, “Was it the one about the musician in Bechdalla?”

Lady Penelope laughed harder at this. “Yes! So, you’ve heard it already?”

“Many times,” Duncan replied, dusting his hands. “That’s one of Tresney’s signature gambits when attempting to woo someone. So at least we know he was genuinely interested in you,” he nodded, “Well done!”

His companion furrowed her eyebrows in disappointment. “Oh. Is Lord Tresney also a bit of a rake?”

“He tries to be.” Duncan grinned. “I think he just hates me because I’m apparently far more effective.”

“No, I wouldn’t say that he hates you.” She fervently shook her head. “Why, I don’t think he even mentioned your name.”

“He probably didn’t want to remind you that a far superior gentleman than him was also present,” Duncan joked, “But enough with these trivial matters, let’s begin our lesson,” he declared.

Lady Penelope set aside her cup of tea and prepared to stand, but he stopped her.

“No, no, we can stay where we are.” He cleared his throat. “Last time was all about the physical, this lesson is all about the spoken word.”

She let out a deep exhale. “Perfect... And my instructor so happens to love the sound of his own voice.”

“Just because I’m charming and confident, doesn’t necessarily mean I’m vain,” he retorted. “Besides, as the student, you shall be doing most of the talking.”

“Very well, Your Grace. Where would you like me to start?”

Duncan tapped his chin in consideration. “Since it worked so well for Tresney, why don’t we start with using humor as a means to draw the other person in?”

“All right,” she concurred, seeming undeterred by his challenge. “Oh, but who are you supposed to be?”

“Hmm?”

“Which of the four remaining gentlemen on my list are you pretending to be?” she asked, “So that I can better tailor my approach.”

“I see. Well, have you studied the Earl of Direpeak?”

She nodded.

“Then I shall be him.” Duncan gestured, signaling for her to begin.

“So, Lord Direpeak…” she opened, leaning forward in her chair. “I hear you’ve won quite a few fencing tournaments.”

Duncan pushed out his chest as he answered, “Why yes, Lady Penelope, I often advise-”

“Don’t do a pretend voice!” she laughed slapping his arm.

---