The duke nodded and Beatrice was a little appalled that his expression was one of indulgent condescension, as if she were a recalcitrant child.
“Chivalry is all well and good,” he said. “Though, real chivalry is the quiet work of maintaining an estate and seeing that all in one’s sphere are cared for. That sort of care is not the height of romance, it does not make a splash or find its way into poetry. Nevertheless, it is the bedrock of a man’s worth. In truth, it is how a gentleman expresses both his character and his affection.”
Beatrice had no answer to that, for of course she presumed her true love would be caring of all who depended upon him. He would simply be all of that,andpoetic, romantic, stoic, wildly brave, madly in love, and passionate in his feelings.
She turned her attention to her dry cake and forced herself to sip at her very sour glass of lemonade.
“I see I have discomposed you,” the duke said. “Terribly rude of me, I think. Let us move to more pleasant topics. Are you fond of novels, Lady Beatrice?”
Beatrice was rather relieved to be off the topic of her requirements, as the duke did not comprehend them at all. She said, “Goodness, yes. Just now, my sisters and I, along with Miss Mayton, are readingThe Terrible Goings-on of Montclair Castle.”
“That sounds suitably gothic,” the duke said. “One hopes there is a ghost or at least a murderous servant creeping about the place?”
“Oh no, you see, the one-eyed duke is in love with his gentle governess but neither of them know if she can love a one-eyed man. She’s been trying to see under the eye patch for ages and has just fallen off the roof while trying to peer through a window.”
“I suppose there is no chance whatsoever that she will simply ask him to remove the patch,” the duke said.
Beatrice wrinkled her brow. “I am beginning to think it may come to that, actually. She seems to be running out of ideas.”
“I raise my glass to you, Lady Beatrice,” the duke said. “You are a true original, and that is no small thing in this town.”
Beatrice was inclined to believe that a compliment, though she could not be entirely sure.
In the end, she supposed it did not signify. Whatever the duke was, he was not her true love.
Chapter Eight
Matthew had justcome awake at near eleven o’clock. Marcus had been considerate enough to keep the curtains closed tight and the maids from their work anywhere near his door, as he’d got home after three.
Now, he rang his bell, ravenous. His butler, Mr. Genroy, would order breakfast, and Marcus would bring it up. Perhaps not the most usual arrangement, but it was how they did things when he did not repair to the breakfast room.
He did not wait overlong, and Matthew assumed Cook had been at the ready and only needed to fry the eggs.
Marcus came in with the tray and said, “So this is to be the Town schedule, is it?”
“It was a ball, they always run late,” Matthew said. “Though it was a ball with no wine at all served, and so my head is remarkably clear.”
Marcus handed him a cup of coffee and picked up a pile of letters from the breakfast tray. “It is not to be the last ball, I do not think,” he said, handing over the pile. “Various footmen with an invitation in hand have been arriving all morning like a migration of birds. Mr. Genroy finally put Roger on the front steps to waylay them, lest the door knocker wake you.”
Matthew took the pile of letters. “This seems a somehow outsized response to one evening out. Lady Clara did mention a card party or something like it and Lady Mary spoke of a rout, but what is all this?”
“That I cannot know, other than to speculate you were quite the hit at Almack’s,” Marcus said, brushing a coat.
“Very odd,” he said, flipping through the invitations, “I did not meet half these people last evening.”
“May I inquire into how Lady Beatrice fared at Almack’s?” Marcus asked.
“Oh, she looked very well. Like a proper lady. I informed her that my advice had come to an end.”
“Why?” Marcus asked. Then, the valet seemed to comprehend that he might have gone a step far and said, “What I mean is, oh, I see.”
“Yes, I know, you will wonder at it. It is just that, seeing her as she was last evening, it did make me comprehend several things. One, she is fully grown. Two, nothing I have ever said has made the slightest difference. I have tried, but Beatrice will have to learn through hard life experience.”
“You mean, some gentleman will disabuse her of Miss Mayton’s bizarre ideas.”
“Yes, that is it. I can only hope it ends being quietly done, her recovery is swift, and her sisters learn a lesson from it so they need not repeat her mistakes.”
“Did any gentleman seem eager to play the part of suitor at the ball?”
