Page 27 of The Dreaming Beauty
“How long has your brother been the duke?” Aster asked from across the table.
Mr. Taylor sat at the head of the table and shifted his weight so he relaxed against one elbow in his seat. “Ah, now that is quite the story. Simon inherited his father’s barony at the tender age of four. The dukedom, however, was a complete surprise. The previous duke, Westmorland the VIII, was a distant relation—a fifth cousin, to be exact. He was married but never had children. He died suddenly of heart failure seven years ago, leaving Simon to inherit as the closest male relative. The dowager duchess resides in the dower house at the edge of this estate, but you will never see her. She lives quite in seclusion.”
Iris and Aster shared a satisfied look that Tansy could not understand. Why did it matter how long Simon—er—His Grace—had been the duke?
It was Iris’s turn to ask a question. “You saidhisfather was a baron. Do you not share the same father?”
Marcus chuckled. “You are as intelligent as they come, Mrs. Palmer. Nothing slips by you, does it? You are right. Simon and I do not share the same blood. My mother married his father a few years after Simon’s mother died in childbirth. Sadly, they were not married for long before my stepfather was killed in an accident. Though, I must say, despite their constant familial squabbles, you would never think them less than blood relations.”
“And what of your father, then?” Aster asked.
Tansy shifted, uneasy with her aunt’s blunt inquiry, but if Mr. Taylor could ask whatever questions he wished, surely her aunts could as well.
“My father was an officer in the navy and was killed at sea when I was but two. It was not a year later when my mother remarried the Baron Lord Woodsworth. She has since done her best to raise my older brother to take on his role, first as baron and now duke.”
No matter how she commanded her heart, Tansy could not dismiss the compassion she felt toward Mr. Taylor for his and his brother’s loss. Having lost a father she had never known and a mother so early in life herself, she felt an instant kinship with the duke and heartache for Mr. Taylor.
“What a saint your mother must be,” Aster said. “To lose two husbands so close together. Bless her heart!”
Iris patted Aster on the shoulder. “We know a little of the hurt you must feel, Mr. Taylor. We have had our own share of death. Within six years we lost our father, our husbands, and Tansy’s parents. It was like a dark curse stealing away the men in our family. The heartache weakened my departed sister’s health, and I daresay the rest of us are lucky we did not succumb to the grief as well.”
The spoon was cold on Tansy’s lips, and she did not taste her soup. Hearing her family’s deaths listed together in such a bleak way evoked a sharp ache in her chest for the family she longed to know. She blinked away the sudden moisture in her eyes.
Mr. Taylor was quiet for a moment before he said, “I am sorry indeed. I cannot imagine what you have all endured. I fear I was so young that I did not know anything different.”
“When can we meet Simon?” Daisy asked. The atmosphere shifted from somber to awkward.
“His Graceis out of town,” Tansy said, carefully reminding her aunt of the man’s proper title. Daisy was normally quiet in company, but from the beginning, she had been uniquely comfortable in Mr. Taylor’s presence.
“Miss Tansy is correct,” Mr. Taylor said. “I would wager his absence will last another month at least, but news travels slowly from the States. As soon as he returns, I will arrange for all of you to meet him.”
“A kind thought, but we could not impose.” Tansy emphasized her words and beseeched Aster with a pleading gaze.
“Why not meet the duke?” Iris said. “After hearing his difficult beginnings, I should like to know him better.”
“Surely bringing up his past would be uncomfortable for him.” Sometimes Tansy believed she was the only one in her family who saw reason. “And when he returns, I am sure His Grace will have a busy schedule after being away for so long. It would be far better to stay out of his way.”
Her eyes strayed to Mr. Taylor’s, hoping at least he would agree with her. His smile said the opposite. It was as if once again she had said something terribly amusing. That man! Why wasn’t he rescinding his offer? If the people of York, where they had lived for many years, could not appreciate her family’s friendship, why would a duke, with his choice of company, choose to endure them? Surely he would not. The last thing Tansy wanted was to willingly subject her beloved aunts to more criticism.
“Don’t worry about my brother,” Mr. Taylor said, as if reading her mind. “He always appreciates meeting my friends.”
“See?” Iris said. “We are hisfriends.”
Tansy gritted her teeth. Not once in her life had she seen Iris desire to meet any man. Her aunt always acted as if they were the root of all evil. What had been the cause of this change over her aunts? Was it living at Rose Cottage, or was Mr. Taylor the one responsible? This behavior should be something Tansy celebrated, but instead, she felt uneasy about the lack of control she had over the situation at hand.
The rest of dinner passed uneventfully. Once Tansy allowed herself to relax a little, she could taste her food again and actually enjoy it. The others seemed to be equally satisfied with their fare, and the conversation lessened.
Once it was time to retire to the drawing room, Mr. Taylor skipped port and led the way. Tansy had not been in this part of the house before, and she paused just inside the door. Her eyes were drawn to a large crystal chandelier like those she had seen only in dance halls. How did they manage to keep the candle wax off the oversize rug? Now that her gaze was on the carpet, she was caught wondering if it was Turkish or Persian. Whatever it was, it likely cost a small fortune.
Mr. Taylor stopped at the mantel and leaned against it. His handsome form fit the room as if it had been tailored just for his person, where she and her aunts, in their outdated dresses and worn gloves, clashed against the elegance. Then again, Mr. Taylor did not look wholly displaced at Rose Cottage. He was the kind who could adapt to any place. Still, this was his true element, not theirs. It was obvious by how entertained her family was to even be in such a space. Her aunts roamed about the room wide-eyed instead of sitting back and relaxing. Aster admired the line of vases across the mantel, while Iris thumbed through a book on a side table. Daisy had moved to a large pianoforte, the wood gleaming under the candlelight, and sat down as if to play.
Oh dear. Daisy had had a few music lessons, but she could barely play a single song. Now would be the perfect opportunity to make an escape before there was an impromptu recital.
“Dinner was lovely, Mr. Taylor,” Tansy said, her voice carrying across the room to him. She took several steps his way. “I must thank you for inviting us.” Her aunts murmured their agreements from their various positions in the room.
“I am glad I could convince you to come.” He said it to everyone, but his eyes settled on hers in triumph, as if he had won some great wager between them and she had lost. He was not wrong, but thankfully there had been no money on the table.
Tansy’s hand went again to her crooked hair. “Yes, well, we would not want to intrude on your entire evening. Would we?” She looked expectantly at her family, but they blinked as if entirely ignorant of her intentions to leave. Aster was typically more socially aware, but since she had decided all was right in their little world tonight, Tansy would have to be the voice of reason.
