Now she saw the noble duke she’d expected. “And must whatever she’s hiding be dastardly? She might be insecure or nervous. Why is it that men immediately assume a dire character flaw?”
He sat back and folded his hands under his chin. “Have I struck a chord, Everton Lady? We were speaking of Miss Tatham, not you.”
The heat in her cheeks was worse than her stupid outburst. “Of course, we’re not speaking of me. I have nothing to do with this. It is only that in my experience, men are always looking for flaws in women when they should be looking for attributes. I have also noticed that what is considered an attribute in a man is a flaw in a woman.”
Leaning forward, he studied her. “Such as what, Millicent?”
Commanding herself to change the subject did no good. “Men who are bold, smart, forthright, clever or, in this case, witty, are considered virtuous. Yet, those adjectives would be thought faults in a young woman.”
“By some, perhaps.” Preston’s gaze never left hers.
Stop speaking, her inner voice shouted. Unfortunately, her outer voice kept right on. “Oh, Your Grace, would you want a brilliant wife or a wife who chased her goals with dogged determination?”
A light snore sounded from the settee where Mrs. Whimple had nodded off.
“An interesting question,” he said. “Why don’t we leave the game for now and let Mrs. Whimple rest. Walk with me in the garden?”
Glancing at the sleeping Mrs. Whimple, she exhaled. “I suppose changing the subject is best.”
His smile caused the corners of those dark eyes to crinkle. Perhaps he smiled more often than she had seen since they’d met. He stood and pulled out her chair before leading her through the secret door in the bookcase.
It was dimly lit with the light from the parlor and a light up ahead. “This is remarkable.”
“It is a waste of good space, but as I said before, it is fun.” They arrived at the back stairs and then walked out into the garden.
The fall brought cool air, but the sun shone, and the garden was filled with the last of summer’s blooms. “This is lovely.”
He offered his arm and led her toward a fountain in the middle of low shrubs that encircled the centerpiece. A high stone wall surrounded the garden, and ivy grew, partially hiding the barrier. It was a private paradise with the tinkle of water, flowers and benches. Not huge, but perfect for a walk in the fresh air. “I’m glad you like it. This is one of my favorite places. I do all my best thinking in this garden or the one at my country estate.”
“I could stay here forever.” She wished the words back as soon as she’d said them. Stupid notion. “I only meant that this is a beautiful garden, Your Grace.”
“Preston, please. Now as to your question.” Rounding a white gazebo, he led her up the steps and waited until she sat before he did.
“I thought you had forgotten. Hoped you had.”
His smile could charm the most hardened lady. “No. Not forgotten. Unless you would prefer I not respond.”
Not immune to his charm, Millie was too curious not to hear him out. “Not at all. Please do tell me your thoughts on the subject.”
“I don’t care for stupid women. They need not be able to solve the problems of the world, but I like a lively debate and know several women who are quite bright even if they hide that fact from society. I believe you are correct that there is a different standard for men and women, but that is not to say I agree with society’s take on the subject of women’s dispositions.” He brushed a wayward lock off his forehead and stared out over the garden.
“Would you like it if your wife was smarter than you?” She clamped her hand over her mouth. Why couldn’t she keep her musings to herself?
Leaning back, he watched her. “Another interesting question, but let’s get through your first one. I like smart people. I should not think I care if they are men or women. I would not mind if my wife was driven to a particular goal as long as it didn’t put her in danger. My friend Thomas Wheel’s wife is an accomplished musician and has even played for the prince. I admire her talent and determination. Thomas supports her completely in her goals.”
“What if society ostracized her for those goals? What if she wanted to be a doctor or lawyer?” With no idea why she was trying to bait him, she still couldn’t stop.
Preston stared at her until she had to lower her gaze. He clasped his hands in his lap. “If my wife were capable of such feats, I would support them, but I would caution her about the difficulty we would face and make certain she truly wanted the post enough to endure the censure.”
“You must be a very rare man.” Standing, she couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. His presence made her think about things that would only get her into trouble. She was Millicent Edgebrook, daughter of a gentleman and niece of the mad scientist. Wanting to be more than that was foolish and futile. Besides, her plans didn’t include settling down with a husband in London.
The heat from him standing behind her seeped through her dress. It would have been so easy to lean back and feel him against her, but to do so would be inappropriate and against the rules of the Everton Domestic Society. She didn’t want to be sacked before she’d really gotten started. She would force herself to reread the Companion rules again before bed.
He touched her shoulder and spoke near her ear. “What dreams do you have, Millicent? What wild thing do you want?”
Unable to breathe, she stepped down out of the gazebo. “I have no dreams. I’m just an Everton Lady on an assignment. We were only speaking in the abstract, Your Grace.”
“I see.” The warmth left his voice. “We had better get back inside then. I’m sure Mrs. Whimple will not sleep for long.”
“I need to get back to Everton House and make notes about the ladies. I’ll do a bit of research about each one, but I’m sure they are both excellent choices.”
Not offering his arm, he clasped his hands behind his back and walked beside her back to the door where they exited the house. “Shall I see you in two days for the picnic in the park?”
“Yes. I think we might have good luck there. Once we have a good list of ladies to choose from, we will know how to proceed.”
He held the door for her. “If you say so. I leave my fate in your hands, Everton Lady. Perhaps we can finish the chess game another day.”
“Yes, of course.” She needed to get away from him in order to think clearly. In the parlor, she collected her satchel with the Everton Companion inside. She would reread the booklet as soon as she returned home. It was important to stick to the rules even if Preston Knowles addled her brain. She was smart enough to overcome such nonsense.
Nudging Mrs. Whimple, she whispered, “Time to leave, Doris.”
Preston walked them to the carriage and handed them each up before they drove off.
All Millie had to do was find him a perfect wife. It would only take a month or so. She could do this, and nothing, not even her stupid feelings, would stop her from completing her first Everton assignment.
* * * *
Preston had invited his good friend Jacques Laurent to dinner. After a good meal they retired to the drawing room for drinks before they went out for the evening.
“I don’t think I understand.” Jacques sat with his long legs crossed at the ankles and his elbow leaning on the arm of the divan. The white of his blouse stood out against the dark ruby upholstery. His wild hair fell over his wrist as he leaned on his propped hand.
“To what are you referring?” Preston poured them each a snifter of brandy and handed one to Jacques before sitting in his favorite overstuffed chair and sipping the warm liquor.
“This woman is in service or is she a lady? And your mother has hired her to find you a wife? What is going on?” Jacques’s dark eyes flashed with amusement. He downed the brandy and put his glass on the table.
Annoyance
rumbled inside Preston though he couldn’t say why. “Miss Edgebrook is a lady.”
“But she has employment.”
“Yes.”
“And she is not a nanny nor a companion.”
“No. I would not require either.” Preston’s temper rose.
They had been friends a long time, since birth really. Jacques knew him better than anyone. Sitting up, Jacques asked, “What do you require of this Miss Edgebrook?”
“She was hired by my mother to assist in finding me a wife who will not embarrass me with another rejection. What is so hard to understand?” An unexplainable protectiveness grew inside Preston and pulled tighter and tighter. He didn’t like the way his friend spoke of Millicent as an oddity to be investigated.
Getting up, Jacques picked up his glass and refilled it. “You like this woman.”
“No. I mean, I don’t dislike her. She is quite bright, and I believe she will do what she has been hired for.” It was more than that, but he didn’t need Jacques poking at him about a silly infatuation that would likely end in short order.
Eyebrow raised, Jacques sipped this glass slower and returned to the divan. “You like her, but let us put that aside for now. It is clear you are not ready to deal with these emotions. When she finds you a suitable wife, she will go out of your life forever?”
“Of course.” As if a hand clutched his lungs, Preston struggled to draw breath. Millicent would be out of his life as soon as her job was done. He had never run into her before this strange circumstance, and it was not likely he would ever see her again after.
“And that suits you?” Jacques’s French-accented English gave the impression that he knew secrets that everyone else didn’t.
Swallowing down the ridiculous, Preston took a breath. “We have a common goal. We will find a woman who I can make a life with. A woman who will be the Duchess of Middleton. When that is accomplished, Millicent will go back to her life as an Everton Lady and I will go on with courting my new fiancée. It is all perfectly reasonable and respectable.”
“Oh yes, you English do like to keep everything just so. And Millicent will go on to help some other gentleman with some other problem. You will not see her again. All will be well, no?” Jacques took his coat from the back of the divan and tugged it on. “We should call for the carriage or we’ll be late for the theater.”
All would be well. Finding a proper wife was what he was meant to do. Goodness knows he had tried and failed at the job on his own. Millicent was a good choice to get him the right duchess. A woman whom he could be happy with and hopefully one he could make happy as well. Perhaps if he kept telling himself that, he would come to believe it. There was nothing wrong with either of the two women he’d picked out at the ball, yet they did not stimulate him. Would either of them play chess or think about things of import. He longed to know what secrets remained inside Millicent Edgebrook, yet it was counterproductive to ponder such trivia.
The carriage stopped in front of his home, and they climbed in.
Jacques leaned against the window. “Edgebrook is familiar to me. I know of a gentleman who makes inventions and discoveries in science. Francis Edgebrook is his name. Any relation?”
Protectiveness surged inside Preston. “Her uncle and guardian.”
“They call him mad, but I have read his papers, and he’s actually quite brilliant if a bit impulsive.”
Curiosity pushed the other emotions aside. “How is he brilliant? All I have ever heard is that he burned down part of his country home and let his brother’s estate go untouched in the last ten years. Just two weeks ago, my maids were chattering about how he’d had an accident where the entire house had filled with black smoke and the fire brigade had been called in.”
Cocking his head, Jacques smiled. “You should avoid such gossip, old friend. As I said, Francis is impulsive, but he also has a keen mind and a rare imagination. He has blueprints for several inventions I have considered investing in.”
“You would be the laughing stock of London.” The idea that his friend would expose himself to that kind of censure gave Preston pause, but also piqued his curiosity.
Jacques laughed. “I care little of what your English friends think of me. My father built our fortune by taking chances, and I continue his legacy. Besides, it would be good for Miss Edgebrook too, would it not?”
“I believe that Millicent Edgebrook will survive and do well without regard to her uncle’s finances or notoriety. However, yes, it would be good for her as well.”
“Yes, I can see clearly that you do not care for the lady in any way other than your working relationship.”
“Shut up, Jacques.” Preston exhaled with relief when they arrived in front of the theater and his command to drop the subject was obeyed. A rare thing for Jacques to actually take heed of any warnings.
The opera house bustled with people excited for the opening of a new production. It was a good thing both he and Jacques were tall, or he would have lost sight of his friend the moment they entered the lobby. They wound their way through the crowd and up the stairs to the Middleton box.
From his high perch, Preston could see who was at the theater to enjoy the opening of the new opera. He was glad to have the distraction not only from his mother’s quest to see him married but also from his own growing obsession with the woman meant to find his duchess.
Always relaxed, Jacques scanned the audience. “Quite a crowd. I hope the performance will live up to the hyperbole.”
“I have had the pleasure of hearing the diva before. Madam Elise Montforte is an extraordinary talent. She will not disappoint.” He relaxed back into his chair and watched the humanity press into their designated seats below and around him.
“I thought I saw you come in, Preston.” Elinor Rollins, Duchess of Kerburgh, held the curtain back and stepped into his box. Her flaxen hair was curled and placed high on her head, and her eyes were bluer than he remembered. Perhaps the bright sapphire gown created an illusion. Maybe his infatuation still lingered where Elinor was concerned. Still, she was lovely to look at.
Preston rose and bowed before taking her hands and kissing them. If they hadn’t been in public he would have kissed her cheek, but in the crowded opera house, it would cause a scandal. “Elinor, I had no idea you were in town. I thought you and His Grace were decidedly settled in Scotland.”
She brushed a strand of light blond hair off her cheek and grinned. “We came for a few days of shopping and to meet the new addition to the Wheel family.”
“I heard Thomas and Dorothea brought a little girl into the world. I sent my congratulations last week. Is Michael with you?” Preston looked through the gap in the curtain.
A charming blush warmed her cheeks. “He is and will be here in a moment. Will you introduce me to your friend?”
Having almost forgotten Jacques was there, Preston turned to find his friend standing with a watchful eye. “Forgive me. Elinor Rollins, Duchess of Kerburgh, my oldest friend Jacques Laurent. Jacques, Her Grace.”
Jacques bowed low. “A pleasure to finally meet you, Your Grace. Middleton has told me much about you and your husband.”
“The pleasure is mine,” Elinor said.
Michael pushed through the curtain. “Pres, good to see you.” He gripped Preston’s hand.
Preston made the additional introduction. “Will you join us for the performance?”
Of course, they had their own box, but Preston wished for the opportunity to spend time with his friends.
With a look, Elinor and Michael had some silent conversation before she spoke. “That would be lovely. We only decided to come because Dory said the music was not to be missed and she is not able to attend. They had meant to be in the country for the birth but were delayed by a bit of business, and their daughter decided to arrive a few weeks early.”
They sat, and Michael turned to
Jacques. “I have heard a good deal about you, Laurent. I wonder if you have any contacts and resources for a new project in my coal mines. I hope to make them safer for the workers.”
Jacques gave his full attention. “I’m intrigued, Your Grace. Shall I come and see you at your townhouse tomorrow?”
“If you have the time, I would be grateful.”
Elinor touched Preston’s arm. “How are you, Pres?”
“I’m well enough. My mother is determined to get me married, but otherwise, all is as it should be.” He spoke for her ears only.
“I heard about Scarlett Finch. I’m very sorry for you but not because she refused you. I really never liked her much,” Elinor whispered.
It was rare for Elinor to dislike anyone, so Preston’s interest was piqued. “Why is that?”
“It’s silly really.” She waved a gloved hand in dismissal.
“Will you tell me? I’d like to think I escaped a bad decision rather than been thwarted again.” A bitter laugh escaped despite his efforts to appear neutral.
With a shrug, Elinor said, “When she was not yet out, she and her mother visited us in our country home. Father was away, as was normal. I was sixteen, and she had just turned fourteen. I was happy to have the company, but she was not at all interested in spending time with me. My mother kept sending me to find her, and I found her in a few rather compromising places for a girl of her age. I am no gossip, but she was promiscuous even then. Perhaps she has changed but being the center of attention was all that seemed to please her, and she did not care what scandal she caused to attain her goal.”
Preston groaned. “I don’t know if she has changed. She did lead me to believe she wanted my attention when she was courting another whom she claimed to love.”
Elinor patted his arm. “I’m sorry. You deserve to be happy.”
“Thank you.”
The audience settled into their seats. Three people rushed down the aisle.
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