Page 71 of Dancing with an Enigmatic Duke
“I assure you that my intentions are pure, Dowager Randall.” Edward had met the woman on occasion, but liked best to avoid her. Whereas most introductions were an invitation to get to know people better, he had always thought of his introduction to Dowager Randall as a warning that he should pass on to others. His mind could not quite understand how Lady Anderson and Dowager Randall were related, as he could see no similarity between them.
Lady Callum smiled. “Lord Hawley is a wholly endearing man and a good friend of myself and the duke.”
Dowager Randall seemed to soften at her warm words. Lady Anderson spoke up, to Edward’s surprise. “I was just telling him about Father, Aunt Myrtle.”
“Rightly so. Your father is a strong bull of a man, and what you should hold as a standard,” Dowager Randall said as her eyes went back to Edward. They held a critical look that said she did not think much of his match with her niece.
Why the fact that Dowager Randall’s opinion bothered him at all was a wonder to Edward. He thought that perhaps his avoidance of the woman had left her thinking of him as more a frightened rabbit than merely a man who did not fancy annoyances. Lady Anderson did not seem to take her aunt’s words as harshly as they seemed to Edward.
“Lord Hawley owns a shipping supply.” It was Lady Callum nudging the conversation back onto Edward and away from Lady Anderson’s father.
Edward nodded. “Yes, I supply most of the fleets that work out of London.”
“That sounds profitable,” Dowager Randall said with an expression that Edward eventually saw was meant to be a smile. The woman must have been so unused to smiling that the expression was more of a grimace than anything pleasing.
Lady Anderson too offered Edward a smile. They spoke only for a few moments more, before Dowager Randall insisted that Lady Anderson go pay her respects to the duke personally. Edward watched the two women go with puzzlement.
“There then, that was not so bad,” Lady Callum said, as though she were exhausted by some great effort.
Edward looked at the woman who was his friend. He shook his head at her. “What was the idea of that? Are you trying to do me in?”
“I just wanted you to see that, despite her relation to the dreaded Dowager Randall, Lady Anderson is a darling young lady. If given time to show her personality, I think you shall find her quite lovely.” Lady Callum gave him a pleased smile. She added in a whisper, “Besides, she told me that you bumped into her and she was curious about you.”
Edward’s face felt warm from Lady Callum’s words. He must have made a sight because Lady Callum hid her amusement behind her fan. “Have a wonderful time at the party, Lord Hawley.”
***
The house was a disaster. No one had told her how much a party tormented the household where the party was held. She regretted very much every flower petal as she pitched in to help the staff tidy up.
Jasmine giggled as she plucked a wilted rose petal off Emmeline’s dress. “I think you are turning into a flower, Miss.”
“And apparently I am dying for want of water.” Emmeline dusted her hands off on the faded muslin dress she had chosen to wear specifically for its age. “I am glad that I decided to pack a few old things. I would hate to think of getting any of my new dresses dirty.”
Jasmine bent down to scoop up some more broken stems that had fallen out of a vase. “I think this one is broken.”
“That’s the third one,” Emmeline complained. “I shall have to talk to Harcourt about never serving that punch again. I would wager half of our guests are sick in their beds this morning.”
Cook tutted. “That recipe has been passed down for generations.”
“And it should come with a warning on it. It would not hurt to cut back on the bite of it.”
With a nod, Cook agreed, “Probably couldn’t hurt. I never understood why there was so much in it.”
“I should like to see that recipe some time,” Emmeline said, taking shards of vase from Jasmine with dismay.
Jasmine warned Cook, “She might want to burn it. Best hide it.”
Emmeline did not even have the energy to protest the statement. Never mind that it was likely true. Burning the thing would save future generations from this misery. Luckily, Emmeline had not imbibed as much of the drink as other partygoers.
“I wonder how the duke is feeling. He drank a good slug of that punch.” She frowned as she carried her armful of refuse to where they were dividing it up between what could be put out to rot, burn or re-used.
Cook followed Emmeline into the kitchen. “I wager he is fine. He is a good-sized man, so he is likely to just have a bit of a headache. I have to check my stew.”
“It certainly smells good. I am quite hungry after working all morning,” Emmeline exclaimed, stepping through the door from the kitchen to the garden.
Jasmine nodded enthusiastically as she followed along behind her. “I’m rather looking forward to teatime myself.”
They worked alongside each other amicably. “I almost expected your Caeley to appear when I heard that some of your far-flung Scottish relatives were coming to the party.”
