Page 14 of A Duke to Undo her
“Josephine, dear, I think you worry too much,” Vera assured her. “The ladies I spoke to found you quite charming. No one said anything about your manners at all.”
“Maybe the gentlemen did though,” suggested Josephine, looking to Norman. “Although they never tell on each other, I suppose.”
Norman laughed aloud.
“Your imagination runs wild today, Josephine. I believe the ladle might have been mentioned once by some fool young man but the Duke of Ashbourne closed that nonsense down by inviting thoughts on whether the draft labor bill would get through parliament by the end of the year. Our conversation over port ended up being very worthy and I won’t bore you with details.”
“Oh?” replied Josephine, surprised by several details in this account.
“I can’t imagine the Duke of Ashbourne is interested in gossiping,” Vera commented. “He is very different to his younger brother, isn’t he, Josephine?”
“Yes, he is,” she agreed, filling her mouth with more crumpet to avoid having to talk while she mulled over all this new information.
Cassius Emerton, despite his dislike for her, had done nothing to mock or injure her name before the other guests. In fact, he had even diverted someone else’s attempt to make a joke at her expense, even if only because he found such behavior beneath him.
“Do you think he will ever accompany Mr. Emerton here for tea?” Lord Eldridge speculated. “I should like to know Cassius Emerton better, I think. He seems an interesting character.”
Josephine shook her head.
“Afternoon tea is as lightweight and trivial as gossip for an important man like the Duke of Ashbourne,” she pronounced only half in jest, making her relatives smile. “He does not have time for such things.”
Or for lightweight and trivial people, like me,she added to herself.
“Dear me. Well then, we shall make do with Mr. Emerton and be glad of him,” Norman answered.
Chapter Seven
“Anightcap, Mother?” the Duke of Ashbourne asked Duchess Nerissa courteously. “Benedict?”
It was only half past ten, and the three of them were back again at Ashbourne House, their London mansion. Cassius was glad that Philip Kemp’s dinners never went on late and everyone could go home at a civilized hour. He had certainly not wished to linger overlong in tonight’s company.
“Why, yes,” said Nerissa, her face crinkling into a pleasant smile. “Let us all take a glass of negus in the library. It will help us sleep.”
Benedict hesitated at the bottom of the staircase but then shrugged agreeably, apparently not keen to sit up tonight but willing to comply with their mother’s wishes. Cassius guessed that it was his own company that made Benedict ambivalent but that couldn’t be helped.
The duke rang for a maid and ordered their drinks before leading the small party into the library.
“You really could have made more of an effort with Margaret Peckford,” his mother reproached Cassius mildly as she settled herself into a comfortable chair. “I did so want you to know her. She is such a nice girl and so well-mannered. Didn’t you find her so?”
“One young lady is much the same as another to me,” the duke shrugged. “I have already forgotten Margaret Peckford, Mother. I did not intend to be rude.”
“You never do, but you often are,” Benedict pointed out, taking his own seat beside their mother and offering her a throw for her lap.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Cassius demanded crossly but then calmed as Nerissa gave both of them a warning glance.
“It is too late at night for arguments, my boys. Save your differences for tomorrow when you can look at matters more equably.”
“Sadly, I fear that Cassius’ temper will be no better tomorrow,” Benedict observed, clearly holding some sort of grudge.
“Benedict!” their mother now reprimanded her younger son sharply and he fell silent. “Now, Cassius, returning to Miss Peckford?”
“Must you return to Miss Peckford?” Cassius groaned, regretting that he had even suggested this drink.
“Yes, I must, unless there is another young lady occupying your thoughts, Cassius,” stated Nerissa firmly.
The goading image of Lady Josephine Thomson crossed the duke’s mind, her autumnal hair tumbling around her face and her light dress half off one-shoulder, although he had never actually seen her in quite such disarray as that.
Shouldn’t you have been attending more to the worthy and virtuous ladies in the party rather than watching me..?
