Page 7 of Debating with the Duke (Second Sons of London 2)

Chapter Three

“Hold still, YourGrace,” Roper pleaded.

Everett closed his eyes and willed himself to quit wiggling as the valet worked on tying the cravat that threatened to strangle Everett.

Tonight was simply a dinner. With Spence and Tessa.

And two ladies . . .

He had marched into battle. Surely, marching into a dining room shouldn’t be such an abominable chore. After all, Tessa had told him quite a bit about her cousins so that they wouldn’t seem as such strangers to him.

Miss Goulding, a year younger than Tessa, was the daughter of Sir Edgar Goulding, one of the wizards of the War Office. Tessa said Miss Goulding’s mother had passed away several years ago and Miss Goulding acted as hostess to her father and the many people he entertained, especially working dinners at home. Tessa said her cousin was soft-spoken and mature for her years and the kindest person she knew.

Lady Adalyn Goulding was the same age as Tessa and the only child of the Earl and Countess of Uxbridge. She was, according to her cousin, quite lively and never seemed to have met a stranger. Lady Adalyn was a known leader of theton, both in fashion and patronage. If Lady Adalyn liked a person, so did all of Polite Society.

He shuddered just as Roper finished.

“There, Your Grace,” the servant said soothingly.

Everett opened his eyes and stood, walking toward the mirror. It was odd to see himself in anything but his officer’s uniform, much less clothing so expensive and intricate. Part of being a duke meant dressing as a duke. Spence had taken him to a London tailor who charged so much for a single coat that Everett thought the cost might feed a family of four in London for a year. And it wasn’t merely a single coat he’d purchased. After the tailor consulted with Spence, Everett found himself the owner of dozens of coats of varying cuts and colors. He had also been fitted for trousers and waistcoats and shirts and boots and more than a dozen hats. Why, his dressing room in this townhouse was larger than what many families lived in.

He doubted he would ever become accustomed to his immense wealth.

At least his friends had helped him establish an orderly household at Cliffside. Mervyn rarely went to the country and the staff had been trimmed to a minimum. They had also become a bit lax with their employer’s prolonged absence. After Tessa finished her work, Cliffside now gleamed as much as Everett’s Hessians did. She had hired a new butler and housekeeper and a bevy of servants. Spencer had convinced Everett to replace his elderly steward and now he had an efficient man in the role, one he trusted and admired.

It had taken several weeks but Everett had visited every tenant at Cliffside, wanting to show his interest in them and reaffirm his commitment to the estate. Many of the tenants had never laid eyes upon Mervyn. Mr. Painter, the new steward, had accompanied him on these visits, taking notes of everything Everett wanted done about the property. As a result, many of his farmers wound up with new roofs and painted cottages.

Eventually, he would journey to all the properties he held. Already, he had written to each of those estate’s managers and would stay in close contact with them, thanks to Mr. Johnson, the secretary he had hired. Johnson helped to oversee all Everett’s holdings and would work as his personal secretary, as well. With the Season on the verge of starting, a deluge of invitations had already been delivered. Johnson would oversee Everett’s calendar and coordinate with Roper as to the events Everett would be attending.

The thought of having to make an appearance at so many social affairs turned his gut inside out. He was already a bundle of nerves attending a small dinner party tonight with only two ladies.

What would it be like walking into a ballroom containing several hundred people?

“Are you pleased, Your Grace?” Roper asked. “Is there anything else I might do for you?”

The valet had proved his worth. Though Everett had not thought he needed a valet since he was perfectly capable of bathing and dressing himself, Spence convinced him otherwise. Roper would coordinate the various outfits each day, keeping track of which had been worn and where so that he wouldn’t repeat something too often. Supposedly, that was a cardinal sin of theton, one affecting women more than men. He was more than willing to allow Roper to keep the wardrobe up to snuff. Buttons in place. Shirts and cravats ironed. Boots polished. As well as noting the various combinations which had been worn.

“I look my best,” Everett said. “I cannot ask for anything more.”

Roper grinned. “Wait until the Season starts, Your Grace. You will be the best dressed peer in the land.”

He gave the valet a stiff smile, resisting the urge to tell Roper that he had no desire to attend any social events. But he wanted a family. Especially now that he saw how happy Spence and Tessa were with little Analise’s birth. His strapping friend was but a gentle giant when holding his newborn daughter, cooing softly to her. Spence had chosen Analise’s name, which meant graced with God’s bounty. Everett only hoped he, too, would be graced with numerous children.

He desired both sons and daughters. And that meant taking on a wife. Tessa had told him she was there to guide him in finding his duchess. He would get practice tonight in a small setting with her two cousins. Perhaps one of them might even appeal to him and he could forgo the Season altogether. Of the two, Miss Goulding sounded more to his liking. He would see tonight if the two of them might suit.

“Shall I call for the carriage, Your Grace?”

“No, Roper. Lord Middlefield lives but a block away. I shall walk to dinner.”

“Walk?” the valet asked blankly.

“Yes. It is done with two feet and highly effective in getting a person from place to place, especially when only a short distance is involved.”

When Roper continued to stare at him, Everett said, “I have what is termed a dry sense of humor. I can say something in a serious tone which is meant to be humorous.”

“Of course, Your Grace. I will wait up for you.”

The valet left and Everett figured his little joke had fallen flat. It would probably be the same in Polite Society. Though his friends always understood his sense of humor, many outsiders did not. Perhaps he would refrain from making any type of humorous remark in the company of others. Better to be thought quiet and serious than be completely misunderstood.

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