Page 61 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
“Can I ask you something?” Emmeline asked as they walked toward the library.
“You can ask me anything, Your Ladyship.”
“Did you know that Francesca had made advances toward Lord Torrington?”
Jasmine’s mouth dropped open. “I had heard talk, but I thought it was just the maids. They are not overly fond of Miss Durant and I didn’t know how much stock to put into their words.”
“Do not speak of it,” Emmeline warned. “I had a talk with the duke this morning where he told me of it.”
“I have seen the duke give her no deference.”
“I would not expect him to do so. He merely told me so that I might be aware of it.” Emmeline opened the library door and whispered, “Truthfully, I do not know if I should trust her. If she has used my friendship so, can her aid be that valuable?”
Jasmine and Emmeline slipped into the library. Jasmine gave her apron a worried wring. “She might be out for herself, but surely she’d not go so far as to throw you into the mire to raise herself up. That would do her little good in the eyes of the duke or the earl.”
“I hope that she sees it that way.” Emmeline went to the book she had left next to her favourite chair. She laid her hand on the book as if to garner comfort from it. “Time will tell, but I do not want to be caught unawares. I feel as though I am already racing to catch up with everyone who was raised in this gilded society.”
Chapter 11
Breakfast at Nash’s home brought a certain amount of troubles. His father had returned. Of course, his mother had been very put out that Nash’s brother had chosen to stay at the country estate. Nash was fairly relieved that for once his brother’s tendency toward sloth was in Nash’s favour.
“I thought that perhaps with the child having no mother of her own, that they might consent to allowing me to throw the engagement party,” Nash’s mother started in for the hundredth time that morning.
Nash’s father nodded. It was clear he had already developed deaf ears to the conversation. Nash had not as yet learnt that trick, so he had to grit his teeth. The worst of it would be if Mother forced him to explain yet again why Lady Callum had chosen to do it herself.
It was not something that even needed an explanation. Harcourt and Lady Callum were well within their rights to choose to do the engagement party on their own. Really, he would have thought his parents would be relieved at avoiding the added expense, but apparently that was foolish thinking.
Nash swore he would never put his children through the horror of such an ordeal. Perhaps he would send them all off to a monastery. As he sat there pondering his children’s fates as monks, he became aware that his mother was looking at him sternly.
“What?”
Her lips were pressed in such a thin line that they threatened to disappear altogether. “Were you not listening to me at all then?”
“If you were speaking then I suppose I was not. My mind had wandered off somewhere. I do apologise. What were you saying?” Nash was sure it was not important, but manners dictated that he ask all the same.
His mother pinched her nose. “You are becoming your father.”
“What was that?” Nash’s father looked up at them. Nash was not sure if the man meant the interruption as a jest or not, but the expression on his mother’s face said, clearly, she did not think it was funny.
Nash rose from his seat. “As much as I am loathe to rush off, I have a morning appointment with Lady Callum.”
“Oh, you are going to call on your young lady,” Nash’s mother said with obvious pleasure. “I am already planning the party that we shall throw for her after your engagement party. We need something to really welcome her to the family.”
Nash dared not even get into a discussion with his mother over family again. He simply could not bear to have her go over yet again when he was allowed to write to relatives about the engagement and in what order he could do so. It was truly amazing that anyone got married at all with all the etiquette that had to be followed.
There were certainly some of his relations that Nash was certain did not make it through all the extensive rituals involved. He dipped his head absentmindedly to his mother to acknowledge her words as he pondered if it were possible to simply get engaged by proxy. Nash was still thinking on it when he went to the stables to fetch his favourite horse.
It was a lovely day and a ride suited him. It would be nice to navigate the streets more freely. The stable lads were off like cannonballs to get his horse and harness as soon as they saw him approaching.
There was nothing quite so grand as riding on a day where the clouds held at bay and let the sunlight dry up London’s streets. Days like today were rare in London, especially these days when there seemed to be a constant pall across the city either figurative or literal. “Hoping you aren’t going down by the factory on Lawson Street, Your Grace. The newspapers said there was a fire there last night,” one of the stable boys said as he led the horse out to Nash.
“A fire, eh?” Nash checked the straps out of habit and found them nice and tight.
The boy’s head bobbed up and down. “Yes, Your Grace. There’s talk it was set on purpose.”
“Sounds like luddites,” Nash commented.
The other lad hit the first on the shoulder. “Told ya that’s what they’re called.”
