Page 24 of The Devilish Pleasures of a Duke

“Lady Lyons?” Harriet blinked several times before she broke into an abashed grin upon recognizing Emma. “That oughta teach you not to sneak up on a sleepin’ body. I almost thumped you a croaker, Mrs. Princum Prancum.”

Emma regarded her unflinchingly, thinking that two persons thus “thumped” in one day could not be allowed. “I have warned you about the language, Harriet.” She paused. “And that elocution. You drop the inital h and defy the rules of phonics more often than not. In fact, your diction could stop a parade of Horse Guards in their tracks.”

Harriet beamed. “Well, thanks, ma’am.” She tucked her bony knees under her well-washed night rail and settled in for a lengthy chat. “You’re prowling about late, ain’t ya? Been gettin’ friendly with his grace? Lovely looker, that fellow. Gives a girl the warm shivers.”

Emma felt her scalp tighten. Either Harriet had almost supernatural instincts, or Emma looked as guilty as she felt. “Do lower your voice, Harriet, and refrain from such lowering remarks. His grace—goodness, he’s not inherited yet. He is Lord Wolverton to us.”

“Wolf,” Harriet corrected her with a knowing smile. “And don’t we all know what that means?”

Emma lifted a brow in astonishment. “If we know, then we certainly will not admit it, nor share our embarrassing perception with the other, more innocent girls,” she said in a disconcerted voice.

Harriet’s mouth quirked at the corners. “Someone has to educate ’em, don’t they?”

Emma was feeling a little light-headed, a belated reaction, she was sure, from her own unplanned amorous lesson. “Not in those matters, my girl. When a woman marries, well, her husband is best left to instruct her in such affairs.”

Harriet snorted. “There’s the blind leadin’ the blind, in my ignorant opinion. If you want to give us a proper education, you should take us to Mrs. Watson’s house on Bruton Street for a few nights. I heard tell she gives lessons in love.”

“My blood chills at the mere suggestion.”

“It wouldn’t be chill for long in that place.”

“Reassure me, Harriet, that you were never employed in such an establishment,” Emma whispered, sickened at the thought.

“I was once,” Harriet whispered back, “but only as an undermaid until they caught me at a peephole. Cor, the things I saw. Some of them acts just ain’t natural, do you know what I mean? The places men put their—”

Emma closed her eyes. “You are never, ever to admit to anyone again that you worked in a seraglio. Do you understand? That sort of thing is behind you. We are going to pretend it never happened.” At least that was the advice Emma’s father had always dispensed when faced with one of his children’s offenses. Emma was not sure one could always forget, however.

Harriet studied her with unnerving intensity. “Ain’t you ever done one bad thing in yer life, Lady Lyons?”

“Of course. Everyone has.”

“Nah. I ain’t talkin’ about pinching an extra biscuit off the breakfast tray. I mean something truly wicked. Sinful. As a grown woman. Something that keeps you awake at night.”

Emma shook her head. “A lady wouldn’t ask, and like it or not, by hook or by crook, you will become a lady. Now go to sleep. Your voice is disturbing the others.”

Harriet sank down only to spring right back up on her elbow. “I won’t betray you if you’re nice to me.”

Emma pivoted at the foot of the bed, the fine hairs on her nape prickling. “Betray me?” She knew she’d be better off ignoring the taunt. “What are you saying?”

“Your rival, ma’am. That flat-chested Lady Clipstone. She’s sent letters to all the girls’ parents offering ’em free tuition for three months.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “That vindictive woman.”

“Yeah. And you wanna hear the worst of it?”

“No. I do not.” Although, naturally, Emma did.

“She’s trying to steal me away. Moi. There. That’s French lessons for you. Ain’t you proud?”

Emma felt as if she were standing at the edge of some noxious cesspool. “Why, pray tell, would Lady Clipstone want to steal you away, Harriet?”

Harriet tapped her forefinger to her temple. “To pick these old brains in ’ere.”

“To pick them of what?” Emma asked hesitantly. “You have only begun your life as a young lady.”

“Yeah. But I do got an attic full of secrets, you know. I see and ’ear everything.”

“You see and hear everything,” Emma said in a resigned voice. “You have been here less than a fortnight. I would imagine there has not been much of interest to see and hear.”