“And of course, there will be chairs, which I will begin working on later today, My Lord.”
“Very good, very good, Mr. Mowbray.”
Nicholas determined that he could continue his walk around the shop without arousing any suspicion at this point. He moved toward Miss Baxter at the next bench and felt a tightening in his stomach as he approached her.
“Miss Baxter, lovely to see you again!” he said in a friendly voice as he approached. “And what are you working on?”
She curtsied politely, but looked him directly in the eye when she spoke. “My Lord, I finished construction on your mother’s writing desk yesterday and stained it this morning. The varnish is drying currently, and I’ve just been gathering materials for her new wardrobe.”
“I see,” Nicholas said, and then leaning in closer, speaking in a quieter voice, “and the bookshelf? Have you found a solution to that problem yet?”
Miss Baxter gave him a searching look now, her eyes wide. He was surprised to see a flush rising in her cheeks. Her beautiful lips parted, and after a moment she spoke.
“My Lord, I…” she hesitated, and then continued, “I think that I may have found a solution, but I won’t be able to begin work on it until the wardrobe is finished.”
She returned to sanding the long plank of wood as Nicholas watched, standing beside her. Then, after a moment, she said, in a lowered voice, “My Lord, I must admit that I am surprised that you remember our conversation about the bookshelf at all.”
“In truth, Miss Baxter, I’ve thought of little else since our last meeting” he murmured to her, leaning over the bench to inspect her work, “I’ve been revising my geometry knowledge, which I must confess, I have thought very little about since leaving school. I have only the most elementary textbooks at my disposal, though. I’m sure that I would learn much more if you were to teach me.”
* * *
Nicholas Lymington, The Marquess of Clive, son of the Duke and Duchess of Huxley, was standing next to her at a workbench in a carpenter’s woodshop. Cecilia could hardly believe the circumstance in which she currently found herself. Could I possibly be dreaming? Not only is he here, but he claims to have been thinking of our conversation for the past week, surely my mind is playing tricks on me.
“Pardon me, My Lord?” she asked, hardly daring to believe what he had just said.
“I said that I have quite failed at re-learning geometry from the limited books available in my family’s library. I was merely speculating that I would make quicker progress in my studies with a tutor such as yourself to instruct me.”
Cecilia laughed at that but quickly stopped herself. “You flatter me, My Lord, but I know only what my father has taught me, and what I’ve managed to find in the few books I’ve been able to acquire over the years. I am confident that you learned more geometry at school than I shall ever know.”
“It is true that I studied the theory of geometry at school, and as I recall, I received top marks in the subject, but my recent revision has convinced me that I never understood the practical implications of the subject,” he said, earnestly, looking at Cecilia with his piercing brown eyes. “Not in the way that you do, not intuitively, Miss Baxter.”
She felt a flush rising in her cheeks and hoped that it would not be visible to anyone else. At the same time, she felt a tightening in the pit of her stomach, though it was not at all unpleasant.
“It is true, My Lord, that practical applications can differ greatly from theoretical knowledge,” she said in the calmest voice she could manage, “but surely we can both agree that it would be most improper for me to act as your tutor.”
“Yes of course,” he replied quickly, “of course, it would be most improper, as you say. I was merely making conversation, not a suggestion.”
Oh dear, have I offended him? Or perhaps I have read too much into his comment. Surely that is it; surely he never meant to suggest that I should actually be his tutor.
“Of course, My Lord. May I help you with anything else?”
“No, Miss Baxter, please don’t let me keep you from your work any longer!” he replied, but he smiled at her warmly, and she felt her own lips curl up in an answering smile. As she looked away from The Marquess, she glanced toward the Duchess, who was looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and what appeared to be distaste.
Cecilia quickly returned to her work, avoiding the glance of either the Duchess or her father. Nicholas walked away to inspect a large piece on the other side of the room, and she managed to stop herself from looking up to watch him walk away.
Chapter 8
After three-quarters of an hour, the Duchess announced that it was time to leave the shop and held out her arm for Nicholas to escort her from the house. She told Mr. Baxter that she was satisfied with the work he had done so far, but that she might return again to check in a fortnight or so.
“Farewell Mr. Baxter, Mr. Mowbray, Miss Baxter!” Nicholas called as he left the shop, “Thank you for seeing us.”
“It was our pleasure,” the carpenter replied, “please come back whenever you would like.”
As the coachman opened the door to the carriage, Nicholas helped the Duchess in. He followed her in and sat on the opposite side, turning his head to look out the window, rather than directly at his mother. He had noticed her watching him as he spoke to Miss Baxter, and although he knew he would be unable to avoid a discussion about it entirely, he was hoping at least to delay it. Unfortunately for Nicholas, the Duchess had a different idea.
“You seem to have acquired a new-found interest in carpentry, Nicholas.” she observed.
“Have I?” he replied, casually, “That is news to me.”
“You spent quite a lot of time talking to Miss Baxter. If it was not because of an interest in carpentry, then I suppose I must assume it is was the fact that she is quite pretty,” said the Duchess, and then added coldly, “in a common sort of way.”
Nicholas sighed upon hearing this, but reassured her, “Mother, don’t be absurd, I was merely making polite conversation. I spoke with Mr. Mowbray as well, and I assure you it was not because he is pretty, in a common sort of way or otherwise.”
Even the Duchess laughed at this, and the remainder of the journey to visit Lady Annette was quite pleasant. They discussed the plans for Isobel’s upcoming debut, and Nicholas agreed with all of his mother’s suggestions, having no strong opinions of his own to offer.
As the Duchess spoke, Nicholas’ mind returned to the secret passageway he had discovered earlier that day. He was eager to investigate where it led, thought he supposed it might just be a passageway used by the servants to access the library for cleaning. Still, he would be curious to ask Miss Baxter if this sort of thing was typical in a manor house. I suppose there is no reason for her to know that, having never built a house as far as I know, but perhaps her father has built a house and told her all about it.
* * *
A short time later, the carriage drew to a stop in front of the Earl of Leicester’s estate. The coachman opened the door, and Nicholas followed his mother out into the garden path leading to the front door. As they walked up the path, he saw that although the garden was not in bloom, it was meticulously tended.
A butler greeted them at the front door and took the Duchess’ calling card, before showing them to the parlor and offering them tea. Nicholas and his mother sipped their tea in silence while they waited to discover whether the Lady Annette was receiving guests today.
A moment later, the butler entered the parlor once again and announced “The Lady Annette Covington” before showing her into the room.
Lady Annette was a petite young woman of about twenty years, Nicholas guessed. Her blonde hair was arranged in a bun, with clusters of curls around each ear, framing her round face.
“Your Grace,” she said warmly, “My Lord, how kind of you to call on me! Unfortunately, my father is not at home today, but I hope that you will find my company satisfactory in his absence
.”
“Yes, of course, my dear!” The Duchess replied. “We are delighted to see you. It must be five years or more since you’ve met my son, Nicholas, the Marquess of Clive.”
“Yes, Your Grace, I believe it has been at least that long. I was just a child the last time I saw Lord Nicholas.”
“As I recall,” Nicholas interjected, “you were quite shy in those days. I’m not sure we ever exchanged more than five words!”
“Nicholas!” The Duchess said, sounding scandalized. “I hardly think that is a fair assessment, nor is it kind to mention such a thing.”
Lady Annette laughed at this and said “That’s quite all right, Your Grace, Lord Nicholas only speaks the truth. I was rather a shy child, but I have since learned to come out of my shell.”
“Mother tells me that you are a very accomplished piano player, Lady Annette,” Nicholas said, desperate to change the subject.
“Her Grace is too kind. I do enjoy playing the piano, but I do not believe that you would find me to be especially talented.”
“Perhaps you would consent to play for us?” The Duchess asked
Lady Annette consented to play for them. Nicholas and the Duchess joined her at the piano on the opposite side of the room. As it turned out, she was quite a talented pianist and had simply been modest earlier.
After several songs, the Duchess complimented Lady Annette on her musical talents. “Did you know that Nicholas is something of a music lover as well?” she asked.
“I did not know that! What type of music do you enjoy most, My Lord?” Lady Annette seemed genuinely interested to know his musical tastes.
“I would not call myself a lover of music, in truth. I enjoy a variety of musical styles, but know very little about musical theory or composition. I simply like what I like.” Nicholas said, simply.
“Well,” said the Duchess, “you have an intuitive understanding of music, if not any formal training, I should think that counts for something, Nicholas.”
“I quite agree with Her Grace,” Lady Annette replied with a smile, “after all, music theory matters very little if the music itself is not pleasing to the ear.”
“Well said, My Lady,” Nicholas replied.
Lady Annette was far more interesting to talk to than Nicholas had anticipated. It was clear that she was passionate about music, but not to the point of judging others who were less knowledgeable than herself. He supposed that she was pretty, in a delicate sort of way. Had I been introduced to her a fortnight ago, I might have considered proposing, but that was before I met Miss Baxter. Lady Annette is pleasant, but she does not take my breath away as Miss Baxter does.
“It is such a lovely day today, would Your Grace and My Lord care to take a walk in the grounds with me?” Lady Annette asked.
“That would be lovely, thank you, My Lady,” the Duchess replied.
Lady Annette rang the bell to call the butler who fetched their coats and hats, which they all put on before venturing out into the brisk autumn afternoon.
As the group walked down the garden path, the Duchess slowed her step so that she fell a bit behind her younger companions. She remained as close as decorum demanded, but slowly distanced herself enough to allow Nicholas and Lady Annette to talk to one another without being overheard.
“Your mother is attempting to play matchmaker, I think, My Lord,” Lady Annette said, with a slight laugh.
“Yes, I suppose she is…” Nicholas replied, uncertain of what to say that might not offend Lady Annette, while still making it clear that Nicholas was not interested in the Duchess’ schemes.
“I’m quite certain that my father would approve of her efforts.” Nicholas detected a slight edge in Lady Annette’s voice when she said this.
“And you, Lady Annette?” he asked. “How do you feel about this attempt at matchmaking?”
“Well, My Lord, I am flattered, to be sure.” she said, cautiously. “I do not doubt that you will make a good husband when you choose a bride, but in truth, I am not much inclined to take a husband.”
“I see,” Nicholas replied, breathing a sigh of relief, “and what does your father say of your disinclination to marry?”
Lady Annette laughed at this and continued walking, “I haven’t told him, but I doubt that it will matter much to him. He will want me to make an advantageous marriage, but I am hopeful that I can wait a few more years before my inevitable wedding.”
They continued to walk in companionable silence for a moment before Lady Annette asked, “What about you, My Lord? Have I disappointed you terribly?” She laughed at this, and Nicholas knew that she would not be offended by his honest answer.
“You have not, Lady Annette. I’m certain that you shall make your future husband very happy someday, but my heart has only recently been captured by another.”
“How intriguing, My Lord,” she replied, “do tell me about this siren who has caught hold of you! When will the wedding be?”
“We’ve only just met, and I assure you the Duchess would not approve of my choice,” He told her, in a quiet voice to ensure that his mother would not overhear. “I shall have to be careful about how I approach the situation.”
“Well, this is quite a mystery, My Lord. Pray tell, why would the Duchess disapprove?”
“The Duchess expects that I will marry a member of the ton, and Miss Baxter is the daughter of a carpenter,” he explained to a shocked-looking Lady Annette. “In fact, she is a carpenter herself, taught the trade by her father from childhood.”
“Oh my!” said Lady Annette, looking shocked, but perhaps also a bit admiring, “The Marquess of Clive marrying a carpenter’s daughter would certainly create a good deal of gossip.”
“Thankfully, I am quite impervious to gossip,” Nicholas replied, “but I do have to live with my mother, and she is much more concerned with such matters. She will continue to introduce me to every eligible young lady she can think of.”
“Hmmm…” Lady Annette said, “I imagine you are right about that. And I’m sure that my father will continue to present me to every eligible bachelor within a hundred miles.”
A thought was occurring to Nicholas as their conversation progressed. “Perhaps we could help each other in this regard,” he said.
“And how would we do that, My Lord?” Lady Annette asked. She sounded intrigued at the thought.
Nicholas glanced over his shoulder. The Duchess was still following several yards behind them. He remained certain that while his mother could see what he and Lady Annette were doing, she could not overhear their conversation. In an abundance of caution, he lowered his voice and increased his pace slightly.
“Perhaps, we could allow our parents to believe that we have grown fond of one another. I could call on you again in a few days,” he suggested.
“Yes, I see what you mean,” Lady Annette replied in a murmur. “If you were to call on me when my father is at home, he might think that he need not introduce me to anyone else for some time.”
“Yes, My Lady, that is exactly my goal,” Nicholas said with a wide smile, “and my mother would know that I was calling on you, and perhaps she would also feel less inclined to continue her matchmaking attempts.”
Nicholas knew that this plan would not be easy, they would need to show enough affection for one another to make their parents believe there was a possibility of marriage, without creating a scandal that would require them to marry. Still, I think we can manage it and buy ourselves some time.
An hour later, Nicholas and the Duchess were once again in their carriage, on their way back to the family’s estate.
“Lady Annette seemed to enjoy your company today, Nicholas,” the Duchess said.
“I rather enjoyed hers as well,” he replied, smiling at his mother in the seat across from him, “perhaps I shall call on her again soon.”
“I’m sure that Lady Annette would appreciate that,” The Duchess said with a smile, “and the Earl of Leicester would be pleased as well, I expect.”
Chapter 9
Cecilia continued to work on the wardrobe after the Duchess of Huxley and the Marquess of Clive had left the shop, with Archie working alongside her. They worked in silence for some time before Cecilia spoke.
“I was quite surprised when the Duchess and the Marquess arrived today,” she said.
“Yes, I could see that you were quite surprised, Cece. I think that your eyes doubled in size when you saw them!”
They both laughed at this, and Cecilia thought that Archie was probably correct in his assessment of her appearance, though she had hoped that her shock had not been obvious at the time.
“The Marquess of Clive seemed quite interested in speaking with you during their visit.” Archie observed. He glanced at Cecilia with a rather knowing look.
The Marquess In Her Bed (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 6