by Holly Bush
“Thank you, Mrs. Brewer, for your concern,” Matilda said. “We hardly need to worry about my reputation as I have told you.”
The housekeeper harrumphed as she set down the tea. She did not close the door on her way out but called out over her shoulder. “I’ll be in the kitchen right down the hall if you was to need me.”
“Mrs. Brewer does not approve of me,” Thornsby said.
Matilda smiled. “Mrs. Brewer approves of few. And your reputation precedes you.”
Thornsby shrugged. “Your mother approves of me.”
There was a knock at the door and Matilda rose, “I’m interviewing a woman . . .”
“There you are, Matilda,” the younger Miss Sheldon said as she swept in the room. “Mother is in a snit this morning, and Juliet and I just had to get away.”
“Said she must talk to us about something most urgent but then just laughs and seems determined to put it off interminably,” the elder said and pulled her bonnet from her head.
* * *
Neither of her sisters had seen Thornsby as he was now standing behind them where they stood in the middle of the room. It would not take him long to notice them however. Alexandra was looking particularly fetching in a mauve dress. And Juliet’s hair was shining like a halo in the sun from the window. Both had hourglass figures. With cleavage and ringlets and fair skin and, well, everything she had none of. They giggled now, and, although grating to Matilda’s ears, she was sure a man such as Thornsby would find their tittering irresistible.
“Make your greetings to the Duke of Thornsby. He is standing behind you,” Matilda said.
Alexandra and Juliet turned in a flurry of whispers and fluttering of skirts and lashes. They curtsied.
“Good day, Miss Sheldon. Miss Sheldon,” Thornsby said as he bowed.
Juliet looked from Alexandra to the Duke and turned to look at Matilda. “I cannot remember whether we should speak to him or not.”
“Neither can I,” Alexandra said.
“Our family has no quarrel with the Duke. Do as you please,” Matilda replied.
Minutes passed. The two women stared at him. Matilda dropped to her chair behind them and stared out the window.
“How are your parents, Miss Sheldon?” he finally asked.
The doorbell rang again as her sisters replied to the Duke simultaneously.
“Fine,” Alexandra said.
“In a fuss,” Juliet added.
They looked at each other and laughed uproariously.
“I was thinking of Father,” Alexandra said.
“Tee Hee. And I of Mother,” Juliet said with a giggle.
“Excuse me,” Matilda said after Mrs. Brewer had consulted with her. “I have an applicant to interview. Please stay as long as you wish.” Matilda stepped into the hallway, opened the front door, and spoke to the woman waiting on the stoop.
“Come with me into the kitchen, Mrs. Bell,” Matilda said.
“I was hoping to stay a little longer,” Thornsby said from the doorway of her office as she went by.
Matilda turned. “I have an interview to conduct. My sisters are with you. I shall have Mrs. Brewer chaperone them while you chat.”
“I didn’t come here to talk to your sisters. I came here to talk to you,” Thornsby said impatiently. “And why do you deem it inappropriate for me to sit with your sisters unchaperoned while you objected to Mrs. Brewer’s offer for yourself?”
Matilda’s head was spinning. “I can’t imagine what else you could have to say to me.”
She watched the Duke turn back and heard her sisters tittering. Matilda conducted Mrs. Bell to the kitchen and seated themselves at the table there. She asked questions and tried desperately to listen for answers, but her mind was not on this gentle woman, though. It was far, far away in thoughts of other matters.
A half an hour transpired, and Matilda escorted the woman to the doorway.
“I will send a letter by post when I’ve come to my decision,” Matilda heard herself say. Mrs. Bell nodded politely and left. Her hand was on the door to the sitting room, and she wondered what exactly the Duke wished to speak to her about. If he was even still about. Why was he concerned whether or not she was chaperoned? The door pulled away, and he stood waiting for her.
“I heard the woman make her farewells. Are you coming in?” Thornsby asked.
Matilda hated, absolutely hated, when she gave into jealousy and pettiness over her own sisters. Thornsby had waited for her and not taken Alexandra and Juliet for a ride in the park or whatever gentlemen did with young beautiful woman. And she had been certain he would be gone when the interview concluded. Her knees felt weak and her pulse raised. She realized she was trembling. Thornsby was staring at her in that intense way he did and turned her stomach to mush.
“And are your sisters leaving anytime soon? I swear I can’t follow one of their conversations let alone the six they insist on conducting at once,” Thornsby added.
Matilda needed to reassure herself. “You have more to say to me?”
“Yes, I do. Are you alright, Matilda?” Thornsby asked.
Matilda blinked and swept past him. Alexandra was looking out the window.
“Grandmother Sheldon has returned to pick us up, Juliet.”
“May hap she’ll take us to Bond Street. I’ve a fancy for new ribbon,” Juliet said as she pulled on her bonnet.
Her sister’s kissed her cheek and curtsied to the Duke on their way out the door. The room was silent. Matilda stared at her folded hands.
“Why do you not worry of your reputation yet are concerned about your sisters?” Thornsby asked finally.
“They are interested in what others think of them and are hoping to make a good match. I don’t wish to see them hurt,” Matilda said.
“And you are not interested in other’s opinions as they relate to yourself nor do you care if you ever are married. That’s what you’re saying,” Thornsby replied.
“True enough.”
“You seem overwrought, Matilda. Is it something I’ve said?” Thornsby asked.
Matilda shook her head. “No. I just didn’t think you’d still be here.”
“I told you I was staying. Why would you think I lied?”
“I didn’t think you necessarily lied just that well . . . you’d be occupied with others,” Matilda said.
“I’ve no interest in speaking to your sisters other than to be polite. I kissed you Matilda. I think about you. Not them.”
“I just can’t imagine what you’d still have to say to me. You’ve told me about Miss Marsh and your broken engagement, although it is none of my affair. You’re going to make Alice and Jonah your wards as you have said you would. What else would there be?” Matilda asked.
“Can’t a man wish for some sensible conversation? A conversation without false sentiments but rather plain speaking?” Thornsby asked.
“You’re a Duke. I can’t believe you have no one but me to be honest with or no one who would be honest with you,” Matilda said.
Thornsby stood and paced the room. “May hap you’re wrong, Matilda. Did that ever occur to you?”
“You are lonely then? I am as well on occasion,” Matilda said softly.
Thornsby whirled around. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it. “Aren’t we two birds of a feather?” he said finally.
Thornsby had asked for honesty, and Matilda felt compelled to speak it. Whether for the forlorn look on his face or the sad matter that she had few in the world she felt comfortable dropping her guard with.
“I don’t see myself as marriage material, Your Grace.” Thornsby looked at her. “I am not fashionable or quiet. Can’t titter and find most men dreadful bores. In turn, I am loud and opinionated. But marriage is what Alexandra and Juliet desire. I am already enough of a fetter about their ankles and feel obligated to make sure their wishes come true,” Matilda said.
“My sister has told me you would consider my proposal. You have called your mother insane, s
houted at your grandmother, whom, by all accounts, you love and respect. You were adamant with my sister as well until she said something to you. Pray tell what changed your mind?” Thornsby asked.
“There has been no proposal. You have not deemed it necessary to offer your suit personally, if I remember correctly, Your Grace. My mother’s, grandmother’s and your sister’s opinion and assertions matter little in this,” Matilda exclaimed.
Thornsby stuck his hands in his pants pockets. “I suppose you are right.”
“I have bared my soul, relatively speaking. Now do explain why you feel compelled to speak honestly with someone this morning,” Matilda asked.
Thornsby sat down and looked out the window. “Speaking to someone like Millicent Marsh compelled me. She is motivated purely be her own gain and can be quite nasty when pushed.” He looked then at Matilda’s face. “I am positive you think me the biggest fool on the face of the earth for proposing to her.”
“I think disappointed rather. I did find you pompous when we first met but I believe it is no more than an act after getting to know you a bit,” Matilda said.
“I wonder if it is worse to actually be an ass or just aspire to be one,” Thornsby said with a sigh. “But you have not told me what Athena said to you. My sister can be most persuasive.”
“It was not your sister’s opinion solely that forced me to consider you if you offered court to me. It was rather a combination of opinions,” Matilda said.
“On what subject? Marriage in general? Men in general? Spinsterhood? And who offered these opinions other than Athena? I can’t imagine you listen much to your sister’s beliefs,” Thornsby said.
Could she broach this subject with a man? If she even remotely considered him a lifetime partner she should. And her stomach was still mush. It was still all quite embarrassing though.
“Well, if you must know, the original discussion was between Ethel and me.” Matilda licked her lips, took a deep breath and hurried on. “It was a conversation about the marriage bed, you see.”
Thornsby blinked. “I see.”
“Ethel explained that often two people far apart in many other ways are suitable because of the, well, of the coupling,” Matilda said.
“And this, these discussions about eh . . . coupling have changed your mind about marriage?” Thornsby asked.
“Well, not completely. But it does introduce a flaw in my argument,” Matilda said.
“You have argued with yourself over this subject?” Thornsby asked.
“I have been convinced since I was very young that a husband is as much of an annoyance as anything. But Ethel, whom everyone believes is as a hard a woman in the kingdom, revealed very tender feelings for my grandfather. She said they had little in common. But that the marriage bed bound them together in many other ways, in spite of their differences.” Matilda leaned forward. “She said it was charming.”
Thornsby’s mouth was at his chest. “Charming?”
“Your sister agreed that coupling with Mr. Smithly was . . .”
Thornsby held up a staying hand. “Please do not tell me.”
“Oh, yes. I gather that would be very uncomfortable for you,” Matilda replied. “In any case she agreed with Ethel. And my mother as well.”
Thornsby shook his head. “So you will be accepting offers from gentlemen now? They have changed your mind regarding marriage?”
Matilda pursed her lips. Her mother would absolutely die if she heard this conversation. Ethel would laugh. Thornsby looked as though he was about to expire in the worn leather chair he sat in.
“I believe I will at least consider offers made in the future,” Matilda said chin high. “There is no other way to judge.”
Thornsby rose from his chair. “So you will test these husband candidates in some fashion.”
Matilda nodded.
“I hardly know what to say, Miss Sheldon,” Thornsby said.
“Not necessary for you to say anything, Your Grace,” she replied.
“And your mother and grandmother know of this,” Thornsby asked.
“Well, yes. They, although reluctantly on my mother’s part, have encouraged me,” Matilda replied.
* * *
Thornsby fetched his cape from the back of the chair he was sitting in and slapped his hat on his head. He turned to Matilda, made a quick bow and left before she could rise from her seat. He dismissed his footman from where they waited beyond the gate. He preferred to walk. Matilda Sheldon, on the advice of her grandmother, no less, had decided to marry based on the aptitude of the man in the bedroom. Thornsby wondered how she would decide and laughed derisively as he envisioned her at the next ball asking gentlemen to drop their pants.
It was quite the most extraordinary thing he’d ever heard. Young woman in England, he guessed in most civilized countries, guarded their virtue with a vengeance. It was how things were done. It was how woman were to act. Thornsby stopped dead in his tracks as passersby rushed around him. Matilda Sheldon would set her mind to laying with an interminable number of men until she made up her mind. She would be cast aside as the worst of the worst. He could not allow it to happen.
Chapter Twelve
The Duke of Thornsby had barely slammed the door when Matilda’s mother and father arrived. Matilda supposed she had shocked the stuffy Duke. Unfortunately, it bore out her original opinion of him. How could she spend a lifetime with a man who could not countenance discussion? How provincial. How boring! Although she doubted Ethel and Henry talked a great deal. She was far too busy at this moment to consider the matter further. Her mother was setting books on shelves in the room she intended to use as the classroom, and her father and a footman were hauling stools and desks.
“Things are coming together quite well, Matilda,” Fran called from the stairs. “Your mother insisted we bring everything for her to commence her tutoring as soon as she heard some,” Fran stopped, looked around and whispered from the top step, “some orphans had already arrived.”
“No need to whisper, Father. They know they are orphans,” Matilda said.
“True enough, but hardly the thing to rub salt in a wound. Such an ugly word, Matilda, orphan. Makes me desperate just to say it,” Fran said.
“Mrs. Brewer, Matilda? Where are the children?” Frances called as she passed her husband on the stairway. “No time like the present to begin their studies.”
Davey and Bill came out of the kitchen under the arms of Mrs. Brewer. “Here they are, Your Ladyship. All ears and waiting to learn,” Mrs. Brewer said with a pointed look to both of the boys.
“Marvelous,” Frances said and clapped her hands together. “We will begin with Roman mythology straight away. Come along, boys. And no mischief. I tutored both of my sons years ago, and they tested me in every conceivable way. It paid off quite brilliantly. Fitz is at Oxford.”
“Mother,” Matilda said and drew her aside. “I don’t believe these boys can read even the most basic of texts.”
“What’s Oxford?” Bill asked.
“Why it’s a university, my lad,” Fran said.
“Then we will begin with the Greek, I suppose.” Frances shuddered. “I never cared for the Greeks, you know, though, Matilda. Quite a decadent lot, I’ve always believed.”
Matilda’s front door opened again. Ethel’s cane tapped in ahead, and Juliet and Alexandra followed.
“I hear Thornsby came calling, Matilda,” Ethel said.
“He was here when Grandmamma came to fetch us,” Juliet said to her mother’s astonished face.
“Out shopping with your grandmamma, I see,” Fran said, nodding to their parcels.
“We just had to get out of the house, Father,” Juliet said.
“I couldn’t find any ribbon I cared for,” Alexandra added near tears. “Then Grandmamma told me to buy black ones. She said it matched the color of the empty space between my ears.”
“Ethel,” Matilda warned.
“And with Mother telling us she needed to speak to us
of a matter of most importance, then sitting us down and sending us off in a fit of laughter. It was all so confusing. You see we just had to go somewhere,” Juliet said to her father.
“Now, now, my dears. You have gone, and now you are back. Quite the thing,” Fran said as he laid a hand on Juliet and Alexandra’s shoulders.
“Come along, boys. We will begin with Methuselah,” Frances said as she turned to Bill and Davey. “She was a beautiful goddess with wild hair made completely of snakes.”
Alexandra was holding her hand straight out to the height of Davey’s waist. She drew it slowly to her gown.
“What are you doing, Alexandra?” Matilda asked.
Alexandra pointed to a small blue flower in the design of her dress. “His waist comes right to here. Help me remember which flower, Juliet.” She looked up at her sister with a smile. “That will be how long his pants must be cut.”
“But what of the width of his waist, Alexandra?” Juliet asked. “We must know that measurement as well.”
Alexandra tilted her head, stared at the boy as she drew her hand to her mouth in thought. Her eyes opened wide. “Now see what you have made me do, Juliet? Which flower was it?” she asked and stared down at the printed fabric of her dress.
“Didn’t the snakes bite her?” Davey asked.
“They would have, young man, if her hair hadn’t been cut off,” Fran Sheldon said.
“Why did her hair, the snakes, get cut off?” Bill asked.
“It was the source of her power,” Frances added. “She was left weak without her hair.”
“That was Samson, Mother,” Matilda said.
Frances laughed. “No, no Matilda. Delilah had very long hair. I saw a painting of her at the museum, dear. ”
* * *
Thornsby had made a decision some blocks into his walk that Matilda Sheldon needed a keeper. The thought of her, pure, clean and unsullied, lying with any man that would have her made him furious. He would put a stop to this notion immediately. He would threaten to tell her father if he must. Thornsby nearly ran the four blocks back to Matilda’s orphanage. Carriages lined the block. The front door drifted open, and he stood and listened to the conversation for quite awhile, undetected.