Page 33 of Tempting Harriet
The girl pulled a face again. “Imagine having that for an aunt for the rest of my life,” she said.
Harriet smiled stiffly and left the room.
Chapter 11
The Duchess of Tenby did not expect it to be a good day. She was out of sorts when she joined her grandson at thebreakfast table and she was feeling thoroughly disagreeableby the time he left her there, his tossed napkin on the floorinstead of the table. He told her coldly that he would dohimself the honor of joining her and Sophie for dinner andstalked off she knew not where for the rest of the day to doshe knew not what.
The duchess was not accustomed to arguments. Most people crumbled before the power of her will. She hadruled her husband despite his sternness with his subordinates, and she had ruled her quiet, good-natured son. Hergrandson was a different matter. He had been trained welland strictly, at least from the age of eleven, and had alwaysbeen a dutiful boy, to give him his due. But he was stubborn. He liked to do his duty in his own time and in hisown way. He was also a charmer and played mercilessly onher love for him—she loved him many times more than shehad loved any of the other men in her life. He had alwaysbeen able to avoid unpleasant confrontations with her. Untilthis morning, that was. She had not said a word the nightbefore after all the guests had finally left.
“I do not consider it seemly or courteous of you, Tenby,” she began this morning when she entered the breakfastroom and he sprang to his feet to greet her, “to appear indoors with muddy boots.”
“Muddy—?” He frowned down at his riding boots, on one of which was a small splash of mud or dust. “I do begyour pardon, Grandmama. I have been out riding. You arenot usually up this early. Would you like me to go andchange?”
She was further irritated by the fact that she had complained about a triviality. “Sit down,” she said regally, but of course she waited for him to come around the table firstto seat her. She tilted her head for his kiss on the cheek.
“It is a fine morning,” he said. “Misty and a little chilly, but invigorating. I trust you slept well.”
“As well as could be expected,” she said. “Dismiss the servants if you please, Tenby.”
He did so and then smiled winningly at her. Just as he had always done when he was a boy and was trying toavoid a scolding. It had sometimes worked with her, thoughnever with his grandfather. He was a handsome boy. Therewas no denying the fact.
“Were you satisfied with the evening?” he asked. “I thought it went rather well.”
“She is a pretty girl,” the duchess said, “and nicely behaved. Not that the prettiness has anything to say to the matter, but I daresay you would sooner have a pretty bridethan an ugly one, Tenby. And she will give you pretty children.”
“She is rather lovely,” he conceded, sipping his coffee.
“I was extremely disappointed when you chose to break your promise to me and lead another lady into the firstwaltz,” she said.
His smile could almost be called a grin. The duchess stiffened her already straight back. She did not like the levity of his expression. “You must know, Grandmama,” hesaid, “that Aunt Sophie left me with no choice.”
“You might have explained,” she said, “that the dance was already promised to your intended.”
“But it was not,” he said. “And I don't believe Lady Phyllis need yet be described in that way, Grandmama.”
“You intend breaking your promise to me, then?” shesaid. “And disgracing the girl when the wholetonis indaily expectation of an announcement?”
“If thetonis expecting any such thing,” he said, “then it has a powerful imagination, Grandmama. We have merelymet with strict formality on a few occasions.”
“When you are the Duke of Tenby,” she said, “and she is Lady Phyllis Reeder, daughter of Barthorpe, a few formalmeetings amount to a great deal.”
He sipped his coffee. She could see a pulse beating in his temple. He was wisely choosing not to argue with her.
“And I must protest that vulgar display to which I and your other guests were subjected during the first waltz,” shesaid.
“Ah.” He set his cup down none too gently on its saucer. “I wondered how soon we would get to the point. She wasmy guest, Grandmama. I was forced into dancing with herunless I choose to be extremely rude to both her and AuntSophie. I danced with her once. I danced once with almostevery other lady guest. I danced with Lady Phyllis twice.”
“It was not the fact of the dance,” the duchess said, herirritability at its peak, “but the manner of it, Tenby.”
“Meaning?” He looked as angry as she felt. She did notlike the impertinent abruptness of his tone. His grandfatherwould have known how to deal with that tone of voice.
“It was vulgar in the extreme, Tenby,” she said. “I can only describe the way you looked at her throughout thedance asdevouringher with your eyes.”
There was a dull flush on his cheeks. “She is a beautiful woman, ma’am,” he said. “Perhaps you did not notice theway Travers and Sotheby were looking at her. And Yarborough too. Men appreciate beauty. There is surely no vulgarity in doing so.”
“There is when you do so openly in the presence of your own relatives and that of your intended bride and her parents,” she said. “Lady Wingham was entitled only to yourcondescension last evening, Tenby. She was invited specifically as a companion for Sophie.”
“She was a guest in my home,” he said harshly. “And she does not have employment as a companion, Grandmama.She is the widow of a baron. And a lady in her own right.”
