Page 8 of A Marquess' Season of Secrets
The valet frowned. “But I believed she wished to be married, Your Grace. She seemed so excited about it.”
“Precisely. I do not know what has changed her mind so suddenly.”
“Should I cancel the seamstress coming to take her measurements for her trousseau?”
“Yes, please,” said Nash. “Ellie might throw a fit if the woman arrives. In fact, put everything on hold until further notice.”
Nash was not afraid of his sister, but he disliked seeing her upset. Although Ellie was typically a level-headed person, she did have her brief moments of emotional outbursts from time to time.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Johnson replied. “I’ll go over to the warehouse and see about those lanterns and deal with the rest later. Have you looked through the house yet?”
“I’m on the fourth room,” Nash told him. “Everything looks good so far. I’m glad the renovations were done on time as I was growing tired of living in London. The atmosphere is acceptable for a month or two, but I prefer more greenery.”
“As you always have. You are your father’s son.”
Johnson would know because he had been the former duke’s valet for the last fifteen years of the man’s life.
“Hopefully not too much my father’s son,” said Nash. “I do not wish to continue a legacy of recklessness.”
“Adventure, Your Grace,” Johnson argued. “Your parents were adventurers. God rest their souls.”
Yes, so adventurous that their last adventure took their lives and turned me and my sister into orphans.
Nash had been a young man of eighteen when he took over the estate and dukedom. He hadn’t felt ready for such responsibilities, but he had risen to the occasion and had done the best he could.
“Their adventures were all futile in the end,” Nash countered. “Ellie and I need security and routine, and that is what I know David will provide for her. I pray she comes to her senses before she loses a good man.”
“I pray I do not sound too impertinent, Your Grace,” Johnson began, “but I speak with much concern. Have you given more thought to your own future? Kensington Estate needs a mistress.”
That very topic had been on Nash’s mind lately. With Ellie leaving to start her own happily married life (hopefully), Nash would need a woman to take care of the household. Mrs Black could do it, but she wouldn’t be able to play hostess during necessary dinner parties.
“I know what sort of woman I want, but it’s a little hard to search for her amid all these renovations, preparations, and engagements.”
“Your aunt has offered to help you select a bride,” Johnson reminded him. “Why not take your sister and visit her for a week or two? See the women she has in mind.”
“That sounds like a great idea. Perhaps Aunt Roslyn will convince Ellie to move ahead with the wedding and marry David like we all wish her to. I doubt she will find another man as patient and good as him.”
“I agree, Your Grace. If you write a letter to your aunt now, I can send it with the footman on my way out.”
Nash nodded. “The sooner, the better.”
Johnson followed him to his study, where Nash wrote a quick note to his aunt. She lived further south in the rural countryside with her pets to keep her company. Nash wasn’t confident Ellie would want to go with him because she preferred being closer to a town, but she hadn’t seen Aunt Roslyn in a while, and they both doted on the woman.
Nash handed the note to Johnson and resumed his inspection of the house. They had returned three days ago after its official completion, but the servants had returned sooner to clean, ready the rooms, and familiarise themselves with the changes.
It was dinner time when he finally called it a day and sat down to eat with his sister.
“Does everything meet your high standards?” she asked, piling his plate with mutton.
“So far, yes. I have two more rooms to inspect— the music room and the library.”
Ellie moved to the peas and asparagus, putting some on his plate before adding a few to her own plate. Serving him was her usual habit whenever they dined alone. It had started soon after their parents’ deaths as a source of comfort to her and had simply become part of their daily mealtime routine ever since.
“I was in the music room earlier today, and I must say that I liked the changes,” she said. “I didn’t think you could make it any better than it initially was, but you proved me wrong.”
The woman added gravy and a roll to his plate but only put a drop of gravy on her two slivers of mutton. She had always been a small eater, which helped to maintain her slender figure.
“You should never doubt your brother,” he told her.
