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“How very kind! Thank you.” She flashed another smile over her shoulder at him, this one full of self-satisfaction, then turned all her attention to Miles.
Joshua watched them walk away to the archery field, her face upturned to Miles, her laughter drifting out over the summer day. He had never met a more self-possessed person in his life. He’d never met a royal princess, either, and perhaps they were all that self-assured and frank. But he was still aghast.
He stalked away, inexcusably miffed by her. She was quite comely, he would give her that, but she was unabashedly full of herself, what with her talk of patronages and balls and all the people desperate to meet her.
And to top it off, there were the five little girls, racing around the table and the field as if they were in the nursery. Absolutely no one in charge of them—all the adults seemed quite ready to let them do as they please.
When he reached his horse, he heard Miles call his name, and against his better judgment, he turned.
Miles jogged up a small incline to him. He paused once to glance back at the archery field. The princess was standing amid Wexham, the vicar, and Mr. and Mrs. Darren, her arm extended, apparently urging them all to stand back. In her other hand she held a bow.
“What is the matter with you?” Miles demanded. “You’re as irritable as an old man with a toothache.”
“I told you I didn’t want to come.”
“Yes, but I didn’t think you’d behave so badly, Joshua. And you have behaved very badly.”
“I am fully aware that I was not able to summon the proper demeanor for this infernal outing. Unfortunately, it seems beyond my ability to amend. That...princessis as peacockish as anyone I have ever met, and I can’t abide another moment of it.”
Miles’s brows dipped. “What in the devil are you talking about? I think she’s quite charming.”
“Charming?” Joshua snorted and swung himself up on his horse. “I’ve had enough.”
“So have we all,” Miles responded with a dark look for him.
Joshua tried to think of something clever to retort, but his mind was one deep hole at the moment. He rode away, his head full of her sitting prettily, her eyes shining, her smile pointed at him.You’d not believe how eager people are to make the acquaintance of a royal princess.
Good Lord.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
To Her Majesty the Queen, Justine,
Dearest Jussie, I am in receipt of your last letter and I amastoundedLord Rebane had thegallto go around Robuchard and come directly to you on the matter of the rail. Papa always said a snake slithers past in the shadows when no one is watching. But you are very clever to have understood what he meant to do and sent him away.
I am faring well here now that Lady A has deigned to do that for which you’ve paid her so preciously. At long last, I attended a picnic with at least two gentlemen suitors, and more gentlemen who were not. My heart was racing the entire affair because of one gentleman, but not in the way you would expect. Prepare to be astonished, because that gentleman was someone I’ve previously mentioned—the Grim Reaper!I thought him nothing more than a terrible caretaker when all that time, he was actually a terrible duke!
Lady A asked me afterward what I thought of the gentlemen she’d invited, as she would like to know who suits me and who does not so that she might make the right introductions at the ball. I was forthright with her, just as you told me I ought to be. I told her that Mr. H was pleasant but really too short. Is that terribly vain? Perhaps it is, but I should not like to spend an entire marriage looking at the crown of my husband’s head. Lord Clarendon was charming and kind, and I rather liked him. The kind ones never suit me. Lord Wexham was handsome but vexingly married. I asked Lady A why he was invited at all, and she said that I should want to make the acquaintance of everyone who might be a friend and not just the bachelor gentlemen, to which I said I had precious little time for that, that I had acquaintances far and wide and didn’t need more, but what I did not have was a husband.
She said that perhaps I ought to make time for Lord Wexham as his wife’s younger brother would be attending the ball. I suppose that was her way of telling me that the gentleman was taking a good look at me before they send the young man into the ring.
I am loathe to admit it, but the terrible awful duke was quite handsome in his own, unrefined way. He is unkempt, as his hair is too long, and his beard too thick. He reminded me of someone who had just come back from expedition or safari who had forgotten how to live in polite society. He is aloof when he speaks, and his eyes are the color of slate, and his gaze so concentrated that it feels as if he is looking all the way through to the curls at the back of my head. I couldn’t understand why Lady A had included him at all, and she said she hadn’t invited him, but that he had come with Clarendon, and that she was very pleased to see him, as he had suffered a grave tragedy when he lost his wife and firstborn in childbirth. She said he really was a good man, and perhaps I should reserve judgment. Why are people forever telling me to reserve judgment? But it hardly matters now as I am determined I will not see him again. I will strike him from any list of guests she presents.
I am looking forward to the ball next week! I’ve decided to wear the green and pink gown that you liked so much. I will wear the Ivanosen tiara and all the regalia of royalty. Mama says that if you are to make an appearance, you ought to make it a memorable one.
Lady I was very cross with me for teaching the girls about dueling, but I really don’t see why the fuss as it is impossible that any of them will die. The girls argued over their pairings, and who in each pairing would be awarded the plum role of dying. But the girls forget everything when they go on to the next game, so there were no hurt feelings.
I’ve taken your advice to heart and I am endeavoring to be demure and to keep my considered opinions or suggestions from the lord and lady. From everyone, really. Only a few have slipped out.
The school has been a pleasant diversion. I can’t imagine why girls are not educated in greater numbers here. They are so eager to learn everything there is to know. They especially enjoy using the abacus. Girls are taught so very little, Jussie. Reading and writing, and basic mathematics is all they might expect. The most excellent subjects of science and geography and histories are left to the boys. Mr. Roberts told me he considered it a travesty that when girls turned a certain age, all their education turned to needlepoint and household management.
I should end this letter and prepare for bed. School resumes tomorrow and now on the morning walk when I pass the Hollyfield estate, I will peer at it with renewed interest, as it is not abandoned but very much open, which, if you ask me, makes it look like an asylum. I will write again after the ball. Love to William and Mama.
With love, A
To The Headmaster of the Iddesleigh School for
Untalented Girls,
