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“Good afternoon, Your Grace.” Isleen rose from her curtsy and gestured for Darrie to run along. She couldn’t imagine a duchess allowing a servant to linger in her presence. “Thank you, Darrie. You may go.”
The duchess watched the maid withdraw, a smile on her face. “My lady’s maid, Mrs. Larrabee, speaks highly of your family’s servants. She says they are obviously quite loyal, well trained, and eager to be of help.”
Isleen tried to hide her surprise. “That is kind of her to say.”
“Oh, Larrabee is a kitten.” The duchess spoke with a hint of humor, the blue eyes she shared with her children sparkling. “She can be all warmth and purrs, or claws and hisses when she’s crossed. I tell you that so you know she is not a woman easily impressed.”
“Then I am thankful for her approval,” Isleen amended, finding it easy to return the duchess’s smile. “Were you looking for me, Your Grace?” Surely not. A duchess would never go looking for someone when she could send a servant.
The duchess sank into the spot that Darrie had barely vacated. “Not precisely, though I am glad I happened upon you when I did. I noticed you weren’t in the Gallery with your mother for tea. I hope everything is all right?”
“It is, Your Grace. I was with Lady Josephine in the library. She had a new book she wished to show Lady Atella and myself. A book by a new lady author.”
“Oh, that new romance. Yes, she gifted me a copy last week. Have you read it yet?” The duchess perked up, as though genuinely interested in her thoughts, as Lady Josephine had been. “I think the author has quite the talent. I cannot help wondering if she will write another. Female authoresses are too few, in my opinion.”
“That is what Lady Atella and I said.” Isleen slowly returned to her seat. “But I haven’t read the whole of it yet. Lady Josephine read the first chapter aloud to us, and Lady Atella borrowed the book first.”
“I will loan you my copy, if you wish. Lady Atella enjoys reading, of course, but tends to go quite slow. She isn’t one to rush a good book.” The duchess’s tone was fond as she spoke of her daughter’s dearest friend. As though she cared for her greatly. “You must tell me, Miss Frost. Are you enjoying your time at the castle?”
Isleen nearly laughed with relief. That question she could answer easily and without fear for how it might sound to her hostess. “I am. Immensely. Your family and guests are kind, and the castle itself is beautiful and interesting. Apart from that frightful storm, everything has been wonderful.”
“And even that storm wasn’t too terrible, since no one was hurt. Though I am sorry you were stuck in Lambsthorpe.” The duchess crossed her ankles and joined her hands together in her lap. “It was a relief when you and Simon returned, safe and sound, to tell us what had happened.”
Was there an emphasis on the way the duchess said her son’s name, or had Isleen imagined it? “Your son was adamant that he be the one to return to the castle first, to test the road. I am surprised he let me come along.”
Here the duchess laughed, a soft and charming sort of laugh. How did she manage to make even that sound sophisticated? “I cannot say I am. Your mother told me the night of the storm she didn’t worry overmuch about you, because she knew you were too smart and stubborn a woman to let a little snow overcome you.”
“My mother could say that, Your Grace, because I inherited those traits from her.” Isleen folded her hands in her lap and tried her best not to fidget. Why did she feel so young, so uncouth, sitting alone with this woman? Was this how Simon felt around his father all the time? Uncertain and awkward? Poor man.
The duchess leaned back a little, her head against the window casing. “Your family has impressed me. And the duke, I think. He speaks highly of your brother.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” What else could she say to that? “Anyone who meets Teague must know how much he loves his country and the people he represents. He has a good head on his shoulders and a kind heart.”
“I agree. I am told by my eldest daughter and my eldest son that you are much the same.”
Heat raced from Isleen’s heart into her cheeks. Josephine and Simon talked about her to their mother? Whatever for?
But that was a silly question. The family would speak of their guests. And she had become fast friends with Josephine. And had spent more than a little time with Simon. Oh dear. She hadn’t overstepped, had she?
Something of her sudden panic must have shown on her face, for the Duchess leaned forward and put her hand over Isleen’s where it rested in her lap. “Oh, Miss Frost, it seems I have made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intent at all. Are you all right, dear?”
“I am, thank you,” she said, her voice a touch strangled. She cleared her throat. “I beg your pardon. I am merely surprised they spoke of me. That is all.”
The duchess’s eyes gleamed and one corner of her mouth tipped up just enough to reveal a dimple in her cheek. “They speak of you often, my dear, but it is nothing to worry about. In fact, I must say that I am grateful for it. My children are careful about the friendships they form, in most cases. That they all adore you is quite in your favor.”
“Theyall?”Isleen’s voice came out as a whisper.
“Yes. Simon, Josephine, Isabelle, Rosalind, and even James.” The duchess’s nose wrinkled, and she looked easily a dozen years younger when she wore that expression. In fact, it was an expression Isleen had seen countless times on Lord James. “I am impressed that you won James’s favor, but he seems to think you an ally in his quest to pester his brother for attention.”
Her jaw dropped open, and Isleen had to pop it closed again quickly. “I hope you don’t mind, Your Grace. I do not mean to be disrespectful—”
“Oh, tosh. Simon takes himself far too seriously sometimes. It’s good that he has James to remind him how to have fun once in a while.”
It was so close to what Simon’s friends had said about him that Isleen couldn’t help the surprised gasp that slipped from her. “You see it, too, then.” She hastily added, “Your Grace.”
“See what, Miss Frost?” The duchess tipped her head to one side, allowing the curls framing her face to slip elegantly across her cheeks. The woman looked like a Greek statue come to life. “That Simon takes himself far too seriously? Yes. It is something I have noticed of late. I think it started with all the unrest over the Corn Laws. But I could be mistaken. His father would likely know better.” She sighed. “He spends far more time with Simon than I do.. I am plagued by these headaches…” She shook her head. “Nevermind. That is surely the result of politics, too.”
That his mother knew of her son’s struggle eased Isleen’s heart. Someone like the duchess wouldn’t let her son continue on unhappily for long.
