Page 38 of Falling for a Forsaken Marquess
“The town is beautiful, and I can understand why it is so famous,” Agnes revealed. “The traffic is the only thing I would say I do not like.”
“Which is understandable,” the duchess said, reaching to pat her hand. “You must hate it after witnessing that boy being hurt.”
“You will be glad to know that he is well, Miss Humphries,” the marquess revealed. “Other than a sore head and a bit of dizziness that will take some time to go away, he is fine.”
Agnes smiled sincerely for the first time since entering the house. “Thank you for informing me, My Lord. I am delighted to hear it.”
And she was glad for his politeness as well. Mrs Mellors could be right in believing that helping the child had allowed the marquess to see her differently. If that was the situation Agnes was currently dealing with, she might still have a fighting chance with him.
Chapter 11
Agnes’s chatter was certainly not as animated as it was initially, making William question the sudden change. The idea that her nervousness had driven her initial behaviour was foremost in his mind, but he sensed a little sadness within her as well that wasn’t there the first time.
William was glad his mother kept peppering Agnes with questions that allowed him to observe her and hopefully reach a conclusion about the woman. His mind often conjured up the memory of her rushing to the boy’s side and the kindness he had seen in her eyes every time she had looked at the child.
She hadn’t done it to gain attention but for the desire to help someone in need. His mother had admitted that she might not have gone as far as cradling the boy on her lap, but Agnes had done it without hesitation.
Street children were sometimes seen as nothing but vermin or scavengers, little miscreants who needed to be locked up in a workhouse and away from civilised people. Treating children as though they were not people was deplorable, but it happened frequently.
“What do you like to do during your spare time, dear?” the duchess asked.
“I enjoy spending time with my family, Your Grace,” Agnes answered without hesitance. “I’m currently trying to teach my sister how to make pretty embroideries, but I am not so successful. Her sewing is lovely, so I suppose that is her calling.”
“I also enjoy embroidery,” the duchess claimed. “Perhaps we can spend an afternoon embroidering together.”
Agnes smiled. “I would like that, Your Grace. You are likely far more accomplished than I am, so I will enjoy learning from you. Do you perhaps have any that I may see?”
Agnes could not have asked for a better thing. The duchess loved showing off her embroidery, often stating that she should sell some as there were too many. William doubted his mother would ever give up any of her works as they were like her children. Each one was lovingly stored away until it had its turn to be showcased on her parlour wall.
“I have two large ones on the wall right now,” the duchess said, pointing at the far side of the room. “What do you think?”
William watched Agnes’ eyes light up with interest. “May I go and look at them closely? The workmanship seems incredible.”
“Oh, by all means, my dear,” the duchess exclaimed, beaming with pride.
Agnes stood up and approached the two embroidered images, inspecting them closely. “Marvellous,” he heard her utter. “Absolutely marvellous.”
She turned back to them after a moment or two with a broad smile on her face. “You have a beautiful talent, Your Grace. I would love to spend a day just studying all your works.”
“I give you an open invitation to come to my home whenever you wish it, my dear,” the duchess told her. “Come as many times as you like.”
William stared wide-eyed at his mother. The duchess indeed was a gracious woman and a wonderful hostess, but she had her limits. To give someone access to their home as though they were a family member was high praise indeed.
“That is kind of you, Your Grace,” Agnes said, taking her seat,” but I do not wish to be a bother. I will come whenever you have the time.”
“But you do not understand, dear,” the duchess protested. “Any time is a good time for you. Perhaps I might not be here all the time, but I shall speak to our butler and housekeeper and let them know that they should let you in and treat you like a Sculthorpe.”
Agnes’ eyes grew to twice their size as her cheeks reddened. “I ... uh ...” she stammered. “Thank you, Your Grace. That truly is kind of you.”
Agnes did not receive the gift of infinite entry into the Sculthorpe home like most women would have. Others would have been smug and pleased about it, whereas she looked ready to bolt. William liked that he could see all her feelings cross her face, making her reactions easy to read. It also made her honest, which was always preferable to one who pretended to be loyal.
“I am so glad that we all get along so well,” Mrs Mellors interjected. “It makes what I do worth every moment of worry, indecision, and the unknown. This is why I became a matchmaker; not only to join two people but to join two families.”
The woman’s heartfelt speech left William in shock, and judging by Agnes’ expression, she was just as taken aback. It seemed Mrs Mellors and his mother were trying to push this marriage before he and Agnes had spent ample time together.
“Will you host the usual Winter’s Ball this year, Mother?” he asked, hoping his words were enough to change the subject.
“I host it every year, son,” his mother replied. “Why do you ask?”
