Page 10 of The Duke's Stubborn Wallflower
“We do not know for certain, Your Grace. There may yet be hope.” Mr. Amos’ voice was full of a hope Nigel found equal parts endearing and frustrating. “Lady Rokesby is of marrying age. Her family is well connected to your own. I thought her the natural choice.” Mr. Amos sounded offended. “In your interactions, you always seem rather cordial, and I am sure she would be a very agreeable wife.”
“No. I could not cause her or Alexander that pain.” Nigel hoped his voice was kind but firm. “I do appreciate your efforts, my dear Mr. Amos. I truly do, but Lady Olivia should never have been included on this list.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.” Mr. Amos nodded though Nigel could sense a stiffness in the man’s movements.
Nigel knew that Mr. Amos had meant well by including Olivia. The man refused to accept that Nigel was doomed and as such had said that Nigel should marry a suitable wife, not just a mother. Many other men would not have tolerated such insubordination, but Nigel found it oddly comforting.
He glanced down at the list of names. There were easily twenty women on it.What does it matter if she is on this list or not? It is my decision, and I have no wish to court her.
The image of her angry face floated into his mind, and he could not help but smile.Agreeable indeed, I am not sure either myself or Mr. Amos would survive that — wait, why am I thinking of this?
“Your Grace, there is another matter we must discuss.” Mr. Amos’ voice broke into Nigel’s thoughts.
“Oh?”It must be the guilt — that is why I keep thinking of Olivia. I must make things right. Or maybe it is better if I leave it.Nigel shook his head, trying to banish the thoughts from his mind. “What matter is that?”
“Your wardrobe. Your Grace, if you are to find a wife this season, we must ensure that you look your best.” Mr. Amos looked as though he were preparing for a battle.
“Surely, we do not need any more than we have already arranged? I have at least five new coats on order, three pairs of britches, two pairs of boots, several shirts, waistcoats. What more can be left?” Nigel shook his head.
“You need a hat,” Mr. Amos said flatly.
“I have a hat.” Nigel frowned.I am quite fond of my hat — surely the fashions cannot have changed so much that I need a new hat. Good God!
“You had a hat.” Mr. Amos directed a dark look at the door.
“What do you mean I had a hat?” Nigel was perplexed.
Mr. Amos produced what had once been a beaver fur felt top hat with a rim of buckram — all that was left was slightly smoking fur and the merest shred of buckram.
Nigel’s jaw dropped. He picked up the remains of his hat and looked in astonishment at his steward. “What on Earth happened? It looks as though it was thrown into the very bowels of hell!”
“That fool of a footman, Mr. Berkley! I don’t know what is wrong with him.” Mr. Amos let out a disgusted sound. “He has somehow managed to ruin two of your new coats — do not worry, I have sent word to the tailor to have them replaced.”
“Good.” Nigel did not relish the thought of yet more shopping.This wardrobe is already proving quite tiresome.
“The boy has a knack for attracting disaster.”
Mr. Amos shook his head. “Your hat… Well, apparently, he was trying to brush it by the fire and somehow managed to throw theentire thing in it. Lord knows how he managed it, but he did. Completely ruined.”
Nigel let out a whistle. “I’m rather impressed. Perhaps we should elevate him and see what kind of chaos he could really cause.”
Mr. Amos looked horrified. “Your Grace, please. I have been patient with the boy. Very, very patient. I have tried to teach him, to aid him. I cannot. He is as utterly hopeless.”
Mr. Amos managed to pull himself into a neutral dignity as he said, “It was Your Grace who bade me give the boy a fifth chance. But I cannot, I simply cannot give him a sixth. The first footman and the valet will revolt. I fear that if we keep him, he shall burn the entire house to the ground with his incompetence.” Mr. Amos sighed. “Such a pity, Mrs. Berkley spoke so highly of his skill.”
“She is his mother. Of course, she would.” Nigel shook his head glancing sadly at the remains of his hat.
“Even so, it is rather staggering that someone so competent birthed such a buffoon.” Mr. Amos shook his head before continuing, “The Lord works in mysterious ways. I shall give the boy his notice and his severance pay this evening.
“Though I cannot bring myself to give him a good reference — I fear what it would do to the reputation of your house.” Mr. Amos wrung his hands. “I do hope we are able to find a suitable replacement in time for the season. I should hate to be without a second footman.”
“I am sure you will manage admirably.” Nigel glanced through the window and then at the clock.
Mr. Amos followed his gaze and said, “There is still plenty of time for Your Grace to get to the hatters, and I’m sure Mr. Lock would be most willing to assist you.”
Nigel scowled. “You know how I feel about shopping. You assured me that our last sojourn was in fact the final such outing for the season.”
Mr. Amos said in a neutral voice, “And it very well would have been if that boy, Berkley, had not been given yet another chance, Your Grace.”
