“Goodness, if we were all so meek and mild as the reverend would prefer, I do not see how any of us would have even got ourselves to Town. Would we not have perished from delicacy on the way?”
Balthazar suppressed his laughter. “I trust your own journey to Town went smoothly and there was no threat of perishing, Lady Rosalind?”
As the lady talked on, Balthazar began to think that nothing was ever usual with Lady Rosalind Bennington. Apparently, they had managed to come out of the trip with somebody’s dog, and she spoke at great length of a certain Madame Tussaud who made wax figures who had been left speechless over their various entertainments. One of those entertainments had been something calledOde to Hay, though Lady Rosalind could not recall the exact words, only that the ground took a bow at the end of it.
Then, apparently, Miss Mayton had found another dreadful novel to read to her charges. He still laughed about the one Lady Beatrice had described to him last season.
“I seem to remember Lady Beatrice describing a novel last year about a one-eyed duke,” he said.
“Oh yes, that was terrifically good. He had his eye all along and was only a madman.”
Balthazar pressed his lips together to stop from laughing.
“She accepted him as he was, in the end,” Lady Rosalind said. “They went on quite happily together.”
Of course they did. “Dare I inquire what this new duke’s problem is?” he asked, hoping for something equally absurd.
Lady Rosalind nodded. “He’s been in love with his governess for over a year, but his wife died under mysterious circumstances. She went down a well. So, as you can imagine, the governess is torn.”
“Another lovelorn duke and his hesitating governess,” Balthazar said drily. “Let me guess, she wonders if she can love a murderer.”
“That is just it! She does not know if he is a murderer.Hesays there are all sorts of ways the late duchess might have ended up in the well, but the housekeeper says he strangled her and put her there. Who is she to believe?”
“My money would be on the housekeeper.”
“Would it really?” Lady Rosalind said, appearing very sorry to hear it. “That would be such a shame. The duke and his governess are terribly in love, you know.”
“And that is enough?” Balthazar said, barely controlling his laughter. “Love must conquer all, even under threat of murder?”
Lady Rosalind gazed up at him under dark lashes. “If the man be courageous enough to make it so.”
Balthazar did not know what to make of that and so said nothing.
*
As the dukeled her into the dining room, Rosalind felt as if her future was racing toward her at a terrific pace. Conbatten was everything she imagined. More than she imagined, really. So handsome, so graceful on the floor, and then his arm felt so strong through his coat that it made her wonder what his chest felt like. And then his lips, those very perfect lips. All of that, and he was so easy to talk to!
Goodness, all those lessons she and her sisters had endured from their governess about having conversations in society. According to that lady, almost every subject was off the table. A lady was to comment on the weather, or the charms of the hostess and her rooms, or general comments about carriage traffic, noting whether it had been light or heavy. One might mention a book, were it on a suitably elevated subject. If one were really struggling in the search for a topic of conversation, one might say something pious, which always had a good effect.
It had seemed an awful amount of tedious work and now she realized it was not at all necessary! At least, it was not necessary with the duke. Of course it would not be necessary withhim.
She had spoken quite freely with Conbatten. It was just as it should be. The fates had arranged it all.
And then, there was something so thrilling about being near his person. She had a great wish to throw herself in his arms. Of course, she would do no such thing. At least, not yet.
Still, it was clear enough that they were destined for one another.
He must realize it too by now. It was a shame she could not tiptoe into his thoughts and see what was there.
The duke led her to a place at the table and a footman came running. Dry cake and sour lemonade secured, Conbatten said, “If I recall rightly, last season Lady Beatrice arrived to Town with a list of requirements in hand for the successful suitor.”
“Indeed she did,” Rosalind said. “A very long list.”
“Yes, I do remember it being quite extensive. I suppose Lord Van Doren was able to check every box?”
Rosalind laughed and set her glass down. “He does not checkanybox as far as I can tell. She is deliriously happy in spite of it. Most importantly, we all approve of his treatment of her, so we are resigned to him.”
“I am surprised the gentleman does not check any box at all,” the duke said.
