Page 26 of The Duke and his Muse
“The Duke of Exeter!” She fanned herself with the piece of vellum in her hands. “He received word our book was to be published and says he wants to find out more about the process.”
“More?” Maisie tutted. “Just an excuse to see you. I tell you, he will call without the boy. I’ll wager a farthing.”
“Maisie, don’t be daft.” Seated on her favorite stuffed chair, Oliver jumped onto her lap. “The duke wants to see me for business reasons.”
“Let me wash up and make sure your cream dress is serviceable. Good thing I made cinnamon buns today. It must be a sign.”
Jane snorted in reply as her maid rushed from the room. Absentmindedly petting Oliver, she asked the feline, “What do you think, Beasty? Is today the day all my dreams come true?”
She laughed out loud. Her dreams? Vague notions of a family one day, perhaps. She sobered, remembering why Maisie said the dukereallywent to London. To be sure of his feelings.
A solicitor’s clerk had provided her first marriage proposal. Might a duke provide the second? No one could say The Duke of Exeter was a fortune hunter.
“Your dress is waiting for you,” Maisie said brightly from the doorway. “Shall we try a simple chignon for your hair? The wispy bits of hair around your face is ever so attractive.”
“That will be perfect,” she replied, shooing Oliver from her lap. “I’ll go up now.”
Jane hesitated on the landing above, turning toward the closed door of her father’s bedchamber. There was a cupboard next to it, then her bedchamber. Maisie slept, she said happily, in the attic. She opened the door to her father’s room and suddenly viewed the room as a different space. As a nursery.
She could remove the faded green wallpaper and paint pictures of her forest friends. Daniel would love the room. And would someday have a sibling or siblings. She could feel a flush rise from her chest to cover her face.
Jane knew little about how to become with child, but she knew it meant being intimate with a man. Could she ask Maisie about such things? She couldn’t imagine that conversation.
“Miss?” The maid stood on the landing outside Jane’s bedchamber.
“I’m coming,” she replied hurriedly, exiting the bedchamber and closing the door behind her.
She must get her emotions, and wayward thought, under control. The duke would arrive at her little cottage in the forest very soon.
* * * * *
His valet had learned to tie a new cravat knot whilst in London and Graham liked it very much. He checked his appearance again in the Cheval mirror in the corner of his dressing room.
“You look splendid,” his mother said dryly from behind him. “A black coat and tan trousers is all the fashion in London.”
“I’ve not over done it?” he asked seriously.
The dowager shook her head. “Now if you had a stickpin in your cravat that would be overdoing it. You look elegant. Reserved.”
“You’re not going to try and stop me from proposing to the girl?” he asked with a raised brow.
“You did as I asked. You had no interest in any of the ladies I shoved under your nose. I admit defeat.”
“Defeat?” he frowned.
“A poor choice of words. I admit that you know your own mind. Miss Hayward, while not of high rank, is a lovely, kind young woman. I believe she will make you happy.” The dowager smiled and truly looked happy for him.
“Thank you, Mother. Now wish me luck.” He picked up a small orange ceramic cat from a nearby dresser and placed it in his pocket.
“What is that?”
“A present Daniel wanted me to give Miss Hayward.” He exited the room.
His mother followed him into his bedchamber. “The woman owns a cat?”
“She does.”
The dowager had never let animals in the house, even his father’s hunting dogs. Once he married Jane, the dowager would live in the dower house. He would let his wife have as many pets as she wanted.
