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“Daphne … you must help. If it is my duty, it is no less yours,” the duke said pleadingly.
Daphne balked and said in horrified accents, “Give her to me … see her launched? My duty? How is it my duty when she is your ward? Oh no, no, no, and no again. I will not be made a matron before my time.”
“I would imagine you might stand not a matron but a friend,” Curtis said gently. “You have youth enough, my lady, to make her comfortable, and from what I am told, you are highly respected by the haute ton’s leading hostesses.”
“That is neither here nor there …” The Lady Daphne made an attempt, though a feeble one, before their peering gazes to extricate herself. “This is not my responsibility. And besides, I don’t want some pretty young thing bouncing around my house for my Freddy to be ogling!” At this she rose from her chair and stomped her foot.
The duke laughed out loud as he got up and went to put a comforting arm about her. “Freddy adores you, sis. Doesn’t have eyes for any other woman, and you know it.”
She pouted prettily. “Maybe, but he is a man. I don’t want him tempted in my own home.”
“The Easton chit is the duke’s responsibility. She could reside with him in his town house with a duenna as chaperone,” Curtis offered doubtfully. “You would be on hand to take her shopping and introduce her to the ton and help her along … nothing more.”
She eyed Curtis. “You say that knowing, absolutely knowing, that it would be most improper for a young lady to reside with my brother anywhere.”
“Daphne is quite correct. She can’t reside with me. Mine is a bachelor lodging,” the duke said irritably. “Can’t have a twenty-year-old woman residing with me. Must see that—not acceptable.”
“Yours, Duke, is the Somerset Town House in Kensington Square,” Curtis said, looking like a cat about to pounce. The duke immediately caught his game and smiled to himself.
“No, she cannot reside with him, even in the duke’s townhouse. It just would ruin her,” Daphne said.
“Ah, of course … not even with a duenna?” Curtis asked innocently.
Daphne waved a hand at both of them. “Horrid, horrid men. I see what this is!”
“Do you, dearest,” the duke said gently. “Then perhaps you will see that I have a problem here that you could help me solve.”
“Yes, but, Glen,” his sister objected, “I … I … Oh, you horrid man.” She wagged finger. “You will have to take her about … waltz with her … show an interest.”
“I will do all that you tell me,” her brother conceded at once.
She folded her arms across her middle and made an unintelligible sound. “That would be something new!”
~ Three ~
IT WAS SIX in the morning, and a low, thick mist masked the open field. The mist formed waves and patterns over the tall grass and wildflowers so that from a distance all one could see were misshapen goblins.
Felicia smiled to herself as she imagined monsters taking shape and then returned her attention to the huntsman in his traditional scarlet coat up ahead of her. He put up his horn and encouraged his hounds in their exercise.
They were a lovely pack of black-and-tan foxhounds, and they seemed intent on working the scent that had been laid out for them in their training exercise. Soon the cubbing season would begin, and they would be asked to show their merit.
Felicia loved watching the hounds work with the huntsman and his whips. It was invigorating to ride out with them and put her troubles behind her. She stopped and thought that the entire scene looked like something caught out of time or out of a painting as they put their noses to the ground in the morning mist, their ears ever alert for instructions.
She hugged her dark brown velvet hacking jacket to herself, for the morning chill went right to her bones as she sat her horse. As her hat kept slipping forward on her forehead, she had to peep under it to keep an eye on the changing terrain as they rode through brush and grass and weaved through the trees.
Scott eyed her warily and said, “What is it, Flip? I can see those green gems of yours twinkling with mischief.”
“Naught, just thinking that I can’t leave all this and go to Swindon. I simply can’t, and he can’t make me marry anyone I don’t want to marry.”
“No,” agreed Scott. “Devilish place, Swindon. Don’t have a notion why he should want to take you there, and he can’t force you to marry—besides that, it would take time to post the banns and do it properly, and by that time you will come into your majority and his guardianship will be over.”
“It doesn’t matter where he wants to take me. I don’t want to leave here. This is my home. This has all my … well, my parents’ keepsakes and …”
“I know, Flip, I quite understand,” Scott said but abruptly had his attention diverted.
Felicia also looked up with some excitement as an older hound, Cardigan, put up his nose and gave a wail. He had found the fresh scent of a fox. He wasn’t fooled by the scent laid the night before by the whips. He was an old timer and knew what he was about.
For the next twenty minutes they gave chase with Cardigan leading the pack. Then, all at once he stopped, and the pack piled in around him, sniffing and cho
