Page 54 of The Duke of Kisses
She hadn’t yet written to him and wasn’t sure she would. It seemed he wasn’t courting Miss Stoke. There hadn’t been any news of a courtship or a marriage, much to her relief.
Not that any of that mattered. His mother’s threats weighed heavy on her mind whenever she thought of David. So she tried very hard not to.
Shoving the letters back in the desk, she slammed the drawer closed. She turned and fetched a bonnet from a hook on the wall and strode from the room, eager to escape the confines of the house and enjoy the late-spring day.
She’d grab her sketchbook from the sitting room and see if she could improve upon her drawing of the common pochard ducks she’d seen yesterday at the pond. Setting her bonnet atop her head as she descended the stairs, she heard her mother’s voice from the back of the house.
“I’ve told you a thousand times to leave your boots outside, Jacob!”
Fanny ducked into the sitting room, hoping she’d be able to escape before drawing her mother’s notice. She sounded particularly testy today.
The table where Fanny had left the book and pencil earlier was now empty. Which meant her mother had moved it. Fanny turned and surveyed the immaculately kept room. Her mother preferred tidy, open spaces, which meant there was a minimum of clutter. It also meant monochromatic color schemes. The entire sitting room was decorated in a single shade of yellow. It wasn’t even a particularly cheery yellow. It was faded and dingy and, due to her mother’s thriftiness, would never be replaced.
The sketchbook was nowhere to be seen. Resigned to leaving without it, Fanny turned to make her way out. Her mother stood in the doorway, hands on her hips.
“Are you looking for that drawing book?”
“Yes.” Fanny hoped she hadn’t burned it.
Her mother adjusted her apron. “That’s the second time you’ve left it in here.”
And the last. “My apologies.”
“It’s no surprise to me that Mary allows you to be careless with your things. She coddles you, as far as I can tell.” Mother’s gaze swept over Fanny’s walking dress. She’d already made a fuss over Fanny’s new, expensive clothing, as well as Fanny having a maid, which she’d also done when Fanny had come home in March for the birth of Patience’s babe.
Fanny ignored her mother’s gibe. She adopted her most polite and deferential tone. “Where might I find it now?”
“I gave it to Jacob.”
Jacob was her other brother. Two years older than her, he’d been a lifelong nemesis, joining with their brother John to torment Fanny. John had seemed to grow out of his ill behavior, but Jacob was still as obnoxious as ever. And now Fanny had to get her sketchbook back from him? She wouldn’t even bother trying.
As if conjured by their conversation, Jacob strolled by the open door. Tall, with a chest the size of a keg, he was an imposing figure. He waved at Fanny as he made his way to the stairs.
Mother didn’t even turn to look at him, her attention focused entirely on Fanny. “Where are you going?”
“Just out for a walk,” Fanny said brightly.
Her mother frowned. “Don’t be gone too long. Mr. Duckworth will be paying a visit later.”
Fanny stifled a groan. “I hope he isn’t coming to see me.” He’d tried to visit in March too, but Fanny had spent most of her time with Patience.
“Of course he is.” Her mother looked at her as if she were daft. “He considers it a boon that you’ve returned from London without a husband.” She shook her head. “I can’t understand how that’s possible. The entire reason to have a Season is to marry, and you didn’t even stay for the whole thing. I daresay your coming home to be with Patience ruined your options.”
“It didn’t, actually,” Fanny said flatly. She hadn’t told her mother a thing about London, only that she and Mary—Ivy—had left due to Ivy’s pregnancy.
“Well, now that you’re home, you will likely see that Mr. Duckworth is an excellent choice. His house is quite large and well-appointed, and you won’t want for anything.” Her gaze dipped again to Fanny’s costume. “Though you won’t need to dress like that here.”
It wasn’t even a fancy dress! But it had come from London and was made of fine fabric and was the latest style. Fanny suspected the real reason her mother didn’t like her clothing was because Ivy and West had paid for it. She made no secret that she didn’t regret turning her eldest child out. It baffled Fanny that she wouldn’t let the past go, nor would she be happy for Ivy.
Unable to hold her tongue, Fanny blurted, “What is it you have against Ivy? And West, for that matter?”
Mother stepped into the room with a deep breath. “Her name is Mary in this house. She was always a foolish chit, hoping to marry above her station. She thought to trap Bothwick with her machinations, but men like him are not to be trusted.”
“And men like Mr. Duckworth are?” Fanny didn’t understand what her mother had against titled men in particular.
“Far more than men like His Grace. Men like him are arrogant and privileged. They think they’re better than everyone else.” She said this with such vitriol that Fanny was taken aback.
Lavinia and Sarah came to Fanny’s mind. They weren’t any of those things. And neither was David. “I met many nice people from titled families. They aren’t all like that.”
