Page 35 of The Design of Dukes
She nodded slowly. “I was surprised to find Mr. Estwood attending the house party.” Her eyes lifted to the green where Estwood stood with Mildred.
“You should speak to him.” Romy inclined her chin. “Mr. Estwood.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.” Her lisp increased. “I’d only embarrass us both and possibly anger the duke, which I certainly do not wish to do. I find him,” she lowered her voice, “intimidating. Which isn’t surprising. Miss Eddison says I am afraid of my own shadow.”
Romy looked over at Miss Waterstone’s chaperone, who resembled nothing so much as a mushroom with her rumpled dress of gray wool puffed out about her sallow, wrinkled cheeks.
“A toadstool,” she said aloud. “Not you, Miss Waterstone. You’re lovely.”
“You are very kind to me.” Her lips trembled slightly. “I wish I was braver. More like you, Lady Andromeda. I think you quite fearless, and you have excellent taste in clothing.”
“Me? I grant you my fashion sense.” Romy grinned. “But I am not brave; I am only the victim of an awful temper which, once unleashed, loosens my tongue. That is not bravery, Miss Waterstone, but stupidity.”
“I esteem you nonetheless, Lady Andromeda.”
“I would be honored if you would call me Romy. At least when we are together. We are friends, are we not?” Romy truly liked this shy, reserved girl.
“We are. And it would please me, my lady, if you would call me Lucy. Romy is short for Andromeda, I take it? From the myth?” Lucy, when she smiled genuinely, was quite lovely. Beautiful, even. She only needed the proper incentive to relax and step out of her shell.
“And a constellation. When my father was alive”—she hesitated slightly, feeling a tiny press of grief over her heart—“he and my mother were great admirers of the night sky. It was an interest they both shared. There were many mornings my sisters and I would find them on a blanket together on the lawn. They’d fallen asleep, you see, watching the stars together.”
Lucy stopped and took Romy’s hand. “You miss him very much.”
“I do. My father didn’t subscribe to the notion that children of dukes should be raised by nannies and governesses, at least once he married my mother. He taught me to play bowls.” She waved at the green where Carstairs, Theo, Estwood, and Mildred were competing against Beatrice, Granby, Blythe and Meredith. “Among a great many other things.”
He told me I should find a way to practice my art. And I have.
Lucy was silent, the only sound the gentle rustle of her skirts. She hugged Romy to her. “You are fortunate, Romy, to have had a father who cared so much for you.”
Romy knew Lucy’s father was often unkind to her, even ridiculing her in front of others. She vowed to help her new friend navigate London and perhaps assist her in finding the sort of gentleman who would appreciate her gentle soul.
“Think how pleased your father will be that you’ve garnered the friendship of a duke’s daughter.”
“Pleased?” An odd look flitted across Lucy’s face. “Yes, I’m certain of it.” Her eyes found Estwood again. “Lady Molsin tells me most of the duke’s neighbors have been invited for the dance at the end of the week. No one eligibleandtitled, unfortunately, which is bound to make my father unhappy, but she’s assured me several nice gentlemen will be in attendance.”
“There’s always Haven. He’s a marquess.”
Lucy shook her head. “My father doesn’t approve of him, title or not.”
Romy leaned in. “Do not allow your father to dictate your future, Lucy. Neither who you are nor who you wish to be. Your life and choices are your own.” Theo claimed this to be one of Romy’s best and worst qualities, the way she interfered at times when she shouldn’t. But Lucy didn’t deserve to be browbeaten by her father.
“The duke watches you, Romy.” Lucy looked over Romy’s shoulder.
“He dislikes me.” Romy shrugged as if it were of no consequence, all the while feeling the press of his eyes against her skin.
Lucy gave her a sideways glance. “His disdain is quite apparent.”
“He may even ask us to leave. Theo and I weren’t actually invited.”
“Oh, dear.” Lucy looked up at her, eyes innocent. “That would be unfortunate.”
12
After speaking to Lucy for a few more moments, Romy left her friend to the dubious care of Miss Eddison before making her way to Theo. Her sister tossed the bowl in the direction of Blythe, who had his back to her. He was on the green, pointing to the cluster of bowls, probably determining which had been closest.
Theo’s bowl tapped him on the heel and Blythe jumped. Meredith nearly tripped over a bowl.
“I beg your pardon, Lord Blythe.” Theo waved, pretending distress. “I’m only just learning.”
