Page 7 of Manufacturing a Duchess

Aurora could tell her pleas were starting to work as the set of her friend’s shoulders began to relax, and she was rewarded when Missie let out a giggle. “Then we shall, Rorie. And if we do it now, Mama will not need to know.” She lifted her hand delicately about ear height and waggled her fingers to call the silent footman over to her. When he approached her chair, she informed him she needed the carriage brought round and Miss Hyacinth to be fetched, as the young ladies were going into town. As he left the room, Missie jumped up and pulled Aurora to her feet. “Come on, before I change my mind,” she said, and the two young women hurried upstairs to finish their toilettes for going out.

Six

When Lord Finlay Mackenzie, Eighth Duke of Galloway, arrived punctually at ten that morning, he found his cousin still seated blearily at his breakfast. Helping himself to some sausages and a slice of cake on the sideboard, then being served with a steaming dish of tea by a bustling Archibald, Finn made himself comfortable.

“Bad night?”

The response was a raised eyebrow and a sardonic, “How did you guess?”

“Wet upon your return?”

“Thoroughly soaked. The streets were devilishly crowded on my ride back and it was miserable all around.”

“And the state of things at home?”

“I arrived to find both Marjorie and Peg in tears. Knots were in ample evidence. Marjorie couldn’t untie Peg, and both of them were tired and hungry. Marjorie was determined not to waste the rope and fail in her sailor’s duties by cutting it, and it was a right hullaballoo.”

“So, what happened, Alec? You are no sailor.”

“No. My knot-tying skills are too rusty. Well, non-existent. I had to cut the rope. The level of hullaballoo increased. My daughter has a very carrying voice. There were complaints.”

Alec directed a glare at his cousin. “A lot of complaints.”

Finn raised his hands up in surrender. “I had nothing to do with them. A completely innocent party here.”

“And how did you sleep, Finn?”

“Like a baby.”

“Humph.”

Finn fixed his cousin with a most emphatically mild look. “Truth to tell, I rather think the bears are here and not at the Tower this morning. Have you considered charging admission? Perhaps you don’t need an heiress after all.”

“Oh, you are in a capital humor. Marjorie! Peg! Are you ready yet?”

“Alec! You are bellowing! Is this how you manage your household? No wonder Marjorie is considered untamed and wild.”

“Finn, she is nothing of the sort. Thoroughly civilized. Paragon of decorum. Marjorie!”

“Alec!”

“All right, perhaps not a paragon. Marjorie! She has to have heard me.”

“Alec, the entire street has heard you. From one end to t’other. Snuff?”

“Absolutely not, Finn. That stuff is vile! Do you actually partake? I have never seen you do so before. Good God—and at this hour of the morning, too?”

“Not at all. It is part of the entire,” and here Finn paused, and made a sweeping gesture from the crown of his head to his feet, “ensemble.”

Alec shook his head and stood. “I shall have to go and fetch them myself. Terribly managed household. No respect. None. Marjorie!” and he walked out the door into the hall.

Finn settled himself more decidedly in his chair. He heard a loud rapping down the hall and a bellowed, “Marjorie! Time to rise and get ready! Uncle Finn is here, and it is nearly time to leave.”

He heard the door open and a firmly stated, “But I am not ready yet, Papa. Peg, you must tell him!” and the door slammed shut.

“Marjorie!” If a door could be said to open reluctantly, Finn could hear that door do so. The rest of the conversation was conducted at a lower volume, thank God, and the door shut again. He heard heavier footsteps clomping a few feet further down the hallway, another door opening and then shutting.

Lord, this was a small set of rooms. Ah, but finally! Blessed silence. Finn closed his eyes in appreciation and slowly sipped the rest of his tea. Then a door opened and the sound of light, eager footsteps alerted him that his moment of relaxation was at an end.