Tillie bristled, her hands clenching .
“Mr. Cashing, I do not know what my father has told you, but —” she began, but he shushed her as he stepped around her, pulled the door open and held it for her expectantly .
Tillie looked around for an exit — any opportunity to escape — but she was well and truly stuck with her unwanted companion now. With a defeated sigh, she rolled her eyes heavenward and stepped through the open door .
To his credit, Cashing gave her a wide enough berth to allow her to move through the store, looking for the items on her imaginary list. She wasn’t really looking for thread and buttons, but the story about her mother needing them had gotten her into this situation and would have to get her out .
She managed to take a moment to sneak into the back and have a quick word with the manager. He was quite taken with the design she placed on his desk, and it didn’t take more than a couple of minutes for him to confirm that his clients would be more than interested .
She apologized for her lack of professionalism on missing yesterday's meeting, and told him that due to unforeseen circumstances she would have to make today's visit short. She would, however, provide him with a sample of the dress in due time .
When she emerged from the office she saw Cashing looking around for her, but still waiting by the door, as promised. She gave him a quick wave, then presented the unneeded items she had gathered to the woman behind the counter. Tillie smiled and thanked her for wrapping her purchases before turning to leave. Cashing looked impatient as he stood next to the door .
“Finally finished?” He asked, nodding to the package in her hands .
“Quite,” she replied with a nod of her head, elated that she had accomplished her task despite all of the obstacles that had threatened her goal .
As they walked out in the crowded street, once again Tillie fought against her natural instinct to run far and fast. Her skin itched being so close to this overburdening man who felt it his right to know what was best for her, despite her protests .
It downright irked her .
“Miss Andrews,” Cashing said beside her, clearing his throat. “If I may be so bold, I would like to visit your family this afternoon and speak with your father. You can expect me before tea, I suppose .”
Her throat tightened and Tillie felt the panic rising in her chest. Only a fool wouldn’t know what Cashing was implying. Only a fool wouldn’t know that he was going to ask permission to court her from her father .
But, using the only tactic she had available in the situation, she played the fool .
“Whatever for, Mr. Cashing?” she asked, pasting a smile on her face as she looked up at him .
He gave Tillie a patronizing look, as though he were dealing with a simple child and not a grown woman equal, if not superior, in intellect .
“You shall find out soon enough, my dear,” he said, patting her elbow and winking at her. More than any other time in her life, Tillie wished poking someone in the face wasn’t frowned upon in public. The man was downright smug .
“Your mother has informed mine that you have been learning more of the domestic arts required to manage a household,” he said as they continued walking .
“Some,” Tillie said, not wanting to discuss the matter with him of all people. She could practically hear the man’s mind whirring away .
“Splendid,” he said with a nod. “Capital. All women should possess those skills. It’s only a shame you waited so long to finally learn. My sisters knew how to run the household before their eighteenth birthdays .”
His sisters had also married men just like him and were probably miserable in their townhomes sewing socks and counting spoons. She knew. She had seen Mrs. Daily and Mrs. Rockforth around town occasionally and neither looked exactly thrilled with life .
“We cannot all be as talented as the former Misses Cashing,” she replied dryly instead .
“That is true,” Cashing said, completely missing the sarcasm in Tillie’s response. “But we do the best with what we have, do we not? You will be fine in due time. You shall see .”
Tillie chose to ignore Cashing then, and focus on hopefully spotting Ambrose in the crowd. She was done with this conversation and Cashing clearly wasn’t quite taking the hint .
“Where did your brother get off to?” He mumbled, scanning the tops of heads as they milled by. “Quite irresponsible .”
She bristled again. It was enough that he took passive aggressive shots at her housekeeping skills, but to repeatedly swipe at her older brother? The one who’d only done what she had told him based on a story she had fabricated? It was nearly more than she could bear .
Tillie was nearly at her breaking point when she spotted Ambrose making his way toward her .
“There is my brother now, Mr. Cashing,” she said quickly, stepping away from the bothersome man toward her brother. “I shall take my leave. Thank you for your help .”
But, of course, the man wouldn’t hear of it .
“Hello, Ambrose,” Cashing called out, waving his arms like a damn fool. Heads snapped in their direction from all around at the outburst. “I say, HELLO Ambrose Andrews !”
People were stopping on the sidewalk now, actively staring at the idiot man flailing his arms in an attempt to get Ambrose to see him. Blessedly, because nobody could ignore a spectacle like Heath Cashing permanently, Ambrose finally saw them and waved back, changing course in their direction. As he approached, Cashing stepped forward, likely to offer his opinion on Tillie being allowed out of doors in the first place, but Ambrose stopped him before he could start .
“Cashing,” he said curtly with a nod of his head, greeting the other man before turning to his sister. “We need to hurry home. Mamma’s sent a message with one of the servants. It appears a gentleman has arrived on the front door with a wish to speak with Father. And you .”
Tillie’s eyebrows shot up .
“Who is it ?”
Ambrose looked bewildered as he spoke .
“Apparently the Duke of Barre is in our sitting room with our father. All have requested your return home post haste .”
Tillie smiled victoriously and used the opportunity to dash off toward their waiting carriage with her hand gripping her brother’s arm, yanking him forward. She heard the distinct sound of a sputtering Heath Cashing somewhere behind them demanding to know just how in the devil the Duke of Barre knew Miss Andrews and what could he possibly want to speak with her about ?
Tillie couldn’t wait for him to find out .
6
T illie knew that this was the plan that she and Alexander had agreed upon. She would send him the note telling him that the deal was on, and then he would arrange everything from there, including their planned engagement. The sooner he came and arranged it, the better, she had thought, as it would mean less time spent mending trousers and dicing vegetables. She knew all this and had been waiting impatiently for him .
So why was she so nervous as she stepped from her carriage and moved toward the door that led into her house? Why did the sight of a much larger, fancier carriage in their stable cause her heart to nearly race out of her chest? Surely, she couldn’t be nervous at seeing the Duke of Barre. No, it must just be that she was eager to start everything on the right foot, not making any missteps .
She knew she couldn’t be nervous. It wasn’t possible. Tillie Andrews was rarely ever nervous. But as her brother turned and held out his hand to help her down, she trembled .
“Are you unwell, Matilda ?”
Ambrose had never called her Tillie. He was always so forthright and conscious of decorum that calling his younger sister anything other than her given name was simply unheard of. Still, the sound of her full name on his lips sounded so odd, so very foreign that she began to giggle as soon as her legs were solid underneath her .
He cocked his head as he took her in, and it only made the laughing harder to stop .
“What is the matter with you ?”
/> He wasn’t angry with her. No, Ambrose was truly perplexed as the laughing fit grew worse and she clutched his arm as she tried to cover her mouth lest any more embarrassing giggles escape. Even their groom, who had set to unhitching the horses, kept a wary eye on her .
“You need to stop this,” Ambrose finally said, placing both his hands on her shoulders. “Whatever fit of madness has suddenly taken over your body, it must stop, Matilda. We have very important people in our home right now and you must pull yourself together. Really. I have never seen you behave like this before .”
The words floated past her, but one caught her attention .
“Did you say people and not person , Ambrose?” The laughter died on her lips .
Relieved that she had at least stopped the laughing, he nodded .
“Quite so .”
She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t, instead pulling her along to the house, where whoever had accompanied Alexander was waiting as well. She couldn’t imagine what her parents were thinking at the moment .
“Who accompanied the Duke of Barre?” She finally had to ask. She couldn’t wait for the surprise — she hated surprises .
“The note wasn’t specific,” he said as he ushered her inside and two maids swarmed her with combs and a new dress. They practically stuffed her into Annie’s small chamber that exited just off the kitchen. Annie and Helene now nearly ripped the walking dress off her body to replace it with a simpler, more elegant day dress. It was powder blue with a high bodice and gently puffed capped sleeves over her shoulders .
“What is this about?” She whispered as they tugged and pulled her original clothing off of her. “Why did you push me in here ?”
“We’re on orders, Miss Andrews,” Helene apologized. “Your mother was unaware of what manner of dress you were in when you snuck out of the house with your brother this morning. With a duke sitting in the salon, she did not want you embarrassing your family with whatever contraption you had dressed in before leaving .”
Tillie looked at her with eyebrows raised .
“Her words, Miss, not mine .”
Tillie gave a pointed look to the walking dress and then back at the housekeeper, who wilted a little more .
“I know, Miss,” she said apologetically. “But your mother gets her ideas and there is nothing we can say to change her mind. According to her, you could have left the house in a linen sack, so we were tasked to attend to you before you made it to the duke. We were to make you look like a lady .”
Tillie sniffed at that comment .
“I always look like a lady, Helene,” she frowned, to which Helene actually snorted .
“I’ve known you since you were nine years old, Matilda Andrews, and one thing you have never been overly concerned with is dressing or acting like a traditional lady,” the woman said. “Your mother has a right to be worried, too. ‘Tis not every day a duke and his mother come to call on your family .”
For the second time in the space of a quarter hour, Tillie staggered. Did Helene just say that Alexander had brought his mother with him? Was she in on the production, too? She had never met the Dowager Duchess of Barre and had heard very little reports among the local gossips, either. It didn’t hurt that Warfield Manor was further away than most aristocratic homes of the ton , but there was still very little said or known about the Dowager Duchess .
“This is the best we can do with a comb, a pin, and a bit of pomade,” Helene grumbled to Annie. “We are not miracle workers .”
Tillie inhaled sharply .
“That will do, Helene,” she said, dismissing the women as she walked from the tiny room, her pride smarting just a bit. The walk to their sitting room suddenly felt impossibly long and fraught with danger. What if she misspoke? What if the Dowager Duchess was angry at their plan and had come here to admonish Tillie in front of her family? Her cheeks burned at the thought. Her father would be destroyed and her mother would probably never forgive her .
On she walked, her delicate white kid slippers dragging along the smooth stone of the floor beneath her .
“Nothing to it, Tillie,” she sang to herself, a habit of hers since childhood. “Nothing to it but to do it, Tillie .”
She hummed the entire walk to the doors that led to the sitting room and even then she stopped and gave pause. It took a gathering of every ounce of strength and courage she had to pull the doors open and walk through. She pasted a large smile on her face to completely hide the fact that her mind was frazzled and her heart was racing loud enough for the neighbors on the next block over to hear .
She looked around the room and immediately found her mother, seated next to her father. Both had a glass of wine in their hands. Odd .
Upon further inspection, Tillie noted the small bubbles fizzing in the golden liquid and deduced it was actually champagne in their glasses. Oh, dear. It was happening .
Her mother looked nervous — her eyes didn’t quite reflect the tight smile she was casting. She didn’t seem angry, just downright puzzled .
“Matilda, dear, how good of you to join us,” her mother said through a strained voice. She was clearly displeased with Tillie, but trying her best not to make it too obvious to their guests, who happened to be seated on the sofa facing them, currently away from Tillie. All she could see of Alexander was the back of his blonde head, seated next to the handsome, low chignon of beautiful silver hair which she presumed belonged to his mother .
She knew she couldn’t dawdle. She knew she needed to act to make any of this look somewhat real. And so she did .
One step turned into another as she rounded the side table and joined her parents by her father’s side, the smile on her face wide and warm. At least she hoped it was. It was the best she could do with her nerves jangling about in her brain, causing her to breathe shallowly and quickly .
“There you are,” Alexander’s voice was rich and smooth and so relaxed. Was he feeling none of the nerves she was? “I apologize for not sending word earlier. Mother was so anxious to meet you and your family .”
She glanced back at her own mother, daring a peek. Gloria’s blue eyes flashed to hers .
“Yes, quite the surprise, Matilda, dear,” she said, again a little too tightly for Tillie’s liking. “You might have mentioned your friendship with His Grace before .”
“Oh,” Tillie said, a little too brightly. “Have I not, though, Mother? I am quite certain I have. We met at Tabitha’s wedding. I told you all about him, I am sure .”
“Yes,” her mother said slowly. “Yes, that is right. I must have forgotten. How foolish of me not to remember the man who would appear on our doorstep this morning to propose marriage to my daughter .”
Tillie couldn’t help her reaction. Her eyes widened and went straight to Alexander, who was trying his best not to smirk .
“Marriage?” Tillie asked, trying to play it off as best she could. “Well, now, that is something .”
“That is exactly what I said, dear,” her mother half whispered from behind her .
“I know it seems sudden, Mr. and Mrs. Andrews,” Alexander was standing now, raising a glass of champagne. “But your daughter has well and truly won my heart and I am a man lost without her. We have spoken of our intentions; however, I wanted to receive your blessing and permission first, along with introducing you to my mother. I understand we have broken all sorts of protocol, but this is a special circumstance, indeed. I simply cannot live without our Matilda here and I am very keen that my mother should come to love her as much as I do .”
This was all rather odd. Tillie narrowed her eyes at him. What did his mother have to do with any of this? As though she knew she was in her thoughts, the Dowager Duchess pushed herself to her feet and nodded at Tillie .
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Andrews,” she said with an air of stuffiness, as though she wasn’t exactly thrilled to be a part of this .
Tillie curtsied. “And you, Your Grace .”
“Please. We
are to be family, dear. Call me Leticia .”
That, however, would never actually happen. Tillie might not be the best guardian of societal decorum, but she knew better than to fall into that trap .
“I am also here for more selfish reasons,” Leticia continued, addressing Tillie's mother and father now .
“We have a holiday season full of parties for Warfield Village, home of our own Warfield Manor,” she said. “It has been left to me alone these past years to organize the festivities, which are numerous and all important and I fear I am growing too old for it. Alexander travels often to tend to affairs for our estate and I find that I am in desperate need of someone young and vigorous to help see these events through with me. They must go off successfully as our name and reputation are on the line. I would very much appreciate Matilda’s assistance. It would also allow me to better get to know my future daughter-in-law .”
And there it was. The reason his mother had come after all. Alexander had masterfully plotted a way to ensure that Tillie would have to essentially live at Warfield Manor as a guest of his mother’s over the next few weeks while these social gatherings occurred — saving them travel time and hassle and keeping Tillie close by in case the dreaded Eliza made an appearance .
Well played, Alexander, Tillie thought with a smile as she watched the worried look her parents exchanged. Everything about this was unorthodox and simply not done, but the fact that this was such a high-ranking family and they’d shown such serious interest in Tillie had them questioning their reluctance .
Finally, her father spoke .
“You say my daughter will be well looked after? Nothing untoward or unseemly ?”
The Dowager Duchess nodded while she spoke .
“My staff and I will ensure that she remains on her very best behavior, along with my son, while visiting Warfield,” Leticia said. “You have my word .”
It was enough for Gloria, which meant it was enough for Baxter. Within an hour, Tillie was packed for the upcoming holiday season and riding in the grand carriage that had carried Alexander and Dowager Duchess of Barre to her home. Now together, they would all journey toward Warfield Manor, where a holiday season of parties awaited .
Someday Her Duke Will Come Page 4