Page 43 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
The duke moved his arm taking it away from her fingers. “I believe it is horsehair, but I shall have to ask my tailor to be certain. If you will excuse me, Miss Durant, I am expected.” He stepped around her as he inclined his head toward her.
Francesca was not too upset that he had evaded her as she curtseyed to the duke. He had at least spoken her name and thus cemented a little more of a relationship between them. She pondered how best to use her position as companion and chaperone to the man’s beloved to get into his good graces further.
She turned and left with a nod of her head toward the doorman, who was eyeing her with interest. She hoped the man was as talkative as he was watchful. But even if he was not prone to chatter, she had accomplished one more step toward ingratiating herself with the duke. Francesca could live with that, even if she felt the man must surely be daft for not falling at her feet.
The Earl of Pentworth was not much better, but at least the earl was easily led to go in whichever direction Francesca saw fit. He was so focused on getting his sister married off that he could not see a wonderfully suitable choice for a bride right in front of him. Still, there was always after the wedding.
Either way, Francesca saw plenty of opportunities waiting ahead to improve her station. She smiled and went in search of Lady Callum. After all, if she did not keep the woman company at least some of the time, then she might just lose her newfound position before she had a chance to accomplish anything of importance.
She entered the library and found Lady Callum with her nose firmly in a book of poetry. “Finally doing some suitable reading?”
“Oh, Francesca, you startled me so!” Lady Callum put her hand over her heart. “I am ashamed at how much I do like Lord Byron’s poems. He talks in such a lovely way that I fear there is nothing, in reality, to compare to his words.”
Francesca smiled and sat down. “Well, fantasy is not about reality, Lady Callum.”
“Please, I have asked you to address me by my name. We are companions now, not mistress and servant,” Lady Callum said with a softness that Francesca found slightly unnerving.
Francesca shook her head. “It is hard to break old habits. I shall try while we are in the privacy of your brother’s home, but I feel it would be best to stick to formal names in public. After all, you are still my superior in rank.”
“That all seems so futile and silly in comparison to all the evils that are afoot in the world these days. Do you hear much news from France?”
Francesca cleared her throat. “I do not much like to think about the troubles at home. Fortunately, I have no family to speak of left there, but it saddens me to hear of it all the same.”
“I am sorry that I brought it up.” The woman truly did look distraught that she had caused Francesca grief.
With a sigh, Francesca reached out and patted Lady Callum’s arm. “You did not know how I felt about it. Your words came from a place of compassion. There is no need to dwell upon it.”
Chapter 8
Nash drew in a deep breath as he crossed the dining room. His mother wanted to arrange a dinner party to welcome Lady Callum into their family, but Nash had insisted that any such dinner should truly wait until their lines were joined. He knew very well that they had to meet to keep up appearances, and so he had arranged for his mother and father to attend dinner at Lady Grayson’s home.
It would effectively kill two birds with one stone and keep his mother placated for the time being. At least his parents would not get too fond of Lady Callum only to be disheartened when the engagement fell through.
A maid squeaked in surprise at Nash’s sudden appearance in the kitchen as he exited the dining room. “Forgive me,” Nash mumbled to the young girl, who quickly dashed away. He shook his head and looked around.
Their old cook, Mrs. Jameson, looked at him with her mouth pressed into a firm line, which made her look entirely too much like those plump gargoyles that Nash’s father had installed over the front gate. He tried desperately to put the picture out of his head before he brought the woman’s wrath upon his head by laughing.
“Mrs. Jameson, I was wondering if I could trouble you for a lemon dessert. The hostess whose party we will be attending has a fondness for the flavour, and I wanted to give her something for her thoughtfulness.” Nash hoped that by calling upon the woman’s prowess as a baker that he would derail any scolding she had in mind.
It seemed to have worked when she clapped her hands together. “I say, haven’t made much lemon in a while. I might fancy a good custard pie.” She turned around and grabbed some bowls. She said over her shoulder, “Mind you, I would appreciate you leaving the kitchens without startling any of my other girls to death, Your Grace.”
Nash laughed and left as quietly as he could. He liked the fact that the woman never treated him any differently than when he was a child. Titles and ranks meant little to her, and she kept him reminded of it.
He was halfway to his study when his father rounded the corner. “Father,” Nash called out with a jolly smile. “Racing away from Mother finally? I can hide you.”
His father gave him a disapproving look. “Really, Nash, you should not talk of your mother so,” he said loudly. As he approached Nash, he leaned in. “Where is this hiding place?”
“I shall show you,” Nash said as he slapped his father on the arm. “Come on, old man.”
His father grumbled, “I shall show you an old man.”
They made their way out into the gardens. There was a stand of trees beyond the garden and across a small field. “There is safety.” Nash waved his hand toward the trees.
Inside the trees was a little opening where Nash, when he was younger, had taken a chair or two and he would bring blankets so that he could spend hours uninterrupted while he read or napped.
His father chuckled and sat down in one of the well-worn chairs. “I can see why your mother would not come this far out to look for you.”
“Think you might need a wagon to get home?” Nash asked the question in jest, but his father scowled at him and waved off his frivolity. “I shall leave you to your hiding. Unfortunately, I have to venture back into the fray. I have things to do before tonight’s dinner party.
