“I heard,” Calvin continued, “that he’s ill. Is this so?”
Her smile dropped. “You heard correctly. He has some kind of lung ailment the doctors can’t seem to cure.”
“What doctors have you taken him to, may I ask?”
“Just the locals who come to the inn. We can’t afford anyone else.”
“What of your mother and stepfather? Do they not earn a living?”
Dorothy sipped her glass, keeping her pretty eyes on him. “No,” she said, placing the glass on the table. “My stepfather left my ma almost as quickly as Lord George did. Ma died a year ago. She was stabbed in the alleyway.”
Sadness pierced his heart. “Accept my sympathy. Forgive me for not knowing.”
“How could you have known?” She shrugged. “I doubt my grandfather knew any of this—or that he even cared.”
Calvin released another relieved breath. For certain, the duke would not want to know that his granddaughter had been fending for herself lately. “So tell me, what would you do to have a skilled physician care for your brother?”
“What wouldn’t I do? Jeremy means the world to me.” She shoved another forkful of food into her mouth.
“I’m glad you said that.”
Another forkful of food headed toward her mouth, but she stopped its progress before reaching the target. With wide eyes, she stared at him.
“If you return to England with me and allow me to take you to Longdale Castle for your grandfather’s birthday celebration, I assure you, your brother will get the best medical help I can afford.”
Her fork still frozen in the air, she blinked a few times. “You—you will pay for my brother’s doctor bills?”
“Indeed I will, Miss Paxton, but only if you agree to accompany me to England to meet your grandfather.”
* * * *
Dorothy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Nobody had offered to pay for anything she needed. Ever. As much as Dorothy didn’t want to take his bribe, she couldn’t pass the chance of getting Jeremy in front of a real doctor who might save her brother’s life.
“That’s not fair,” she said softly and set her fork on her plate. “You know my weakness, and you’re using it against me.”
“Miss Paxton, it’s imperative that I return you to Longdale Castle before your grandfather’s birthday. If offering to pay for a good doctor will get me what I want, I’m willing to do it.” He sighed heavily. “I did notice how sickly your brother was and I must say, he needs medical help badly.”
Dorothy’s mother would truly haunt her if she knew her daughter would be going to England to meet the family who’d abandoned them twenty-two years ago. “Can I assume you are being paid well to be my escort?”
Anger coated his emerald gaze for a split-second before it disappeared. Apparently, he had more control over his emotions than she had.
“That’s really none of your concern, Miss Paxton.”
She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “In other words, that’s a yes.” Irritable, she shook her head. “If I agree to this ridiculous deal, then part of the bargain must be paying for Jeremy’s care before we sail. I won’t have it any other way. He needs care now—not in three months.”
“I can agree to that, but I do have one more stipulation.”
She held her breath, afraid of what it might be. Would Mr. Seton prove to be like every other rich man she’d heard about—not following through with his promises? “And what might your stipulation be, may I ask?”
“During our trip to England, you will allow me to teach you how to become a lady.”
Snorting a laugh, she quickly covered her mouth, grateful she had no food in it that time or it would have been sprayed all over Mr. Seton. A lady? For sure this man wasn’t right in the head. “Are you jesting? You want me to pretend to be a lady?”
“I don’t want you to pretend at all. By the time we arrive in England, I want you to be a lady.”
“You cannot be serious? Look at the way I eat…the way I dress…the way I talk. You even said so yourself that I have a forthright personality.”
“Miss Paxton, I assure you, I’m quite serious. With a little discipline and a good amount of study, I believe we can train you correctly. By the time we arrive at Longdale Castle, I want you to be no different than the other lords and ladies who are related to you. No difference whatsoever.”
Chapter Four
“Jeremy, I will be all right,” she said to her irate brother while she packed clothes in her trunk. Tomorrow, she would sail to England. That prospect of being with Mr. Seton both confused her…and excited her. “Mr. Seton found us an excellent doctor. In one week you have shown signs of improvement.” After placing a dress in the trunk, she turned and grasped her brother’s cold hands. “I’m doing this for you. If you didn’t need proper care as badly as you do, I would stay right here with you. Mrs. Currey will help you run the inn, and if you can’t, she has two sons who will be more than happy to assist.”
He pulled away from her and paced the small floor. “I don’t like this at all. I don’t know why the duke wants to see you, but I fear he will only hurt you.” Stopping in front of her he swiped his fingers through his hair. “And what of this Mr. Seton? You don’t know him. He could be another man like your father, you know.”
“That thought has crossed my mind, but I’m not worried in the least. As long as I remember that you will be taken care of and that I will return once I meet my loveless grandfather, there is no way Mr. Seton’s charm will weaken my resolve.”
Jeremy shook his head, his blond curly locks shook, reminding her that he needed another haircut.
“I still don’t trust the bloke. We both know Mr. Seton isn’t doing this as a favor to the duke. Mr. Seton is being paid well…and it’s obvious he’s tempting you by buying you new gowns and other things. I have seen the way your face lit up when you went shopping with him a few days ago.”
Huffing, she planted her hands on her hips. “Stop that nonsense right now. I will not have you thinking such things. Although the clothes he got me were very nice, you know me well enough to know I cannot be bought. No amount of money will change me or make me want to stay in England. My home is here…with you.”
He frowned and stared at her as liquid slowly filled his eyes. “I will miss you terribly. We have never been apart.”
She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. “I will miss you, as well. But it will only be a few months that I’ll be gone. When I return, you will be much healthier. I just know it.”
He kissed her cheek before moving away from her. “Just keep something in mind, will you?”
“What is that?”
“Remember that men from England have never treated our family well. Mr. Seton might be polite and very generous with his money, but because he’s wealthy, he cannot be trusted. I wouldn’t want you to end up like our mother.”
“Not to worry, Jeremy. I don’t plan on ending up like Mother.”
He nodded. “Please write to me to let me know how you are doing.”
“I promise.”
When he walked out of her room and closed the door, tears filled her eyes—the tears she’d been holding back in front of him. She didn’t want him to know her insecurities, or that she had second thoughts on going.
But she must go or Mr. Seton would stop paying for Jeremy’s care. A miracle had happened when he’d started seeing this new doctor. She actually felt like Jeremy didn’t have one foot in the grave. He would pull through and overcome this malady.
Last night he’d mentioned finding her a woman companion that would travel with them that would help with Dorothy’s learning. She wasn’t looking forward to learning anything new, but she couldn’t wait to wear these lovely dresses. Anxiety rattled her nerves as she finished packing the new clothes Mr. Seton had purchased.
Giddiness had jumped in her heart even though she tried to tell herself money could not buy hap
piness. Yet, she had never had nice gowns—or anything exquisite. For once in her life, she would actually feel like a lady.
May her brother never find out, but she would enjoy these next few months as much as she could.
* * * *
“No, no, Miss Paxton. Keep your shoulders straight. And lift your chin ever so slightly.”
Dorothy tried her best not to glare at Miss Peabody—the woman nearly twice her age, and still an old maid—whom Mr. Seton had hired to turn Dorothy into a lady. The older woman fussed over Dorothy as she adjusted the four-inch thick book on top of her head.
“Please, Miss Peabody, just call me Dorothy.”
The companion flipped her hand through the air in a dismissive wave. “Nonsense. It is not polite to call you that. I work for you now, so—”
“To be precise, you work for Mr. Seton,” Dorothy corrected.
“Very true, I do. But it still is not proper to call you by your given name. In England, you will mingle with society, and they will all refer to you as Miss Paxton. It is highly ill-mannered to call you by your Christian name.”
The older woman inched away from Dorothy, keeping her eye on the book perched on her head. “There now. Slowly walk toward me and let’s try this again. Keep your back straight, head held high, and glide across the room just as we’ve been practicing all week.”
Dorothy clamped her mouth tight for fear she’d say something to scare off Miss Peabody—just like she did on the first day they met. The poor older woman had never met a woman like Dorothy, and her hoyden personality frightened the companion. Dorothy had no idea what Mr. Seton did to convince Miss Peabody to stay, but she did. That day he’d also warned Dorothy to be a good lady or he’d stop paying for Jeremy’s medical treatment.
Since the first day of their voyage, that man had been suspiciously absent. She knew he was on the ship; she just didn’t see him much. Then again, Miss Peabody kept Dorothy quite busy with etiquette lessons—so the woman called it. Dorothy happened to think this was torture of the worst kind.
While holed up for seven straight days, Miss Peabody was also pounding into Dorothy’s head etiquette lessons on how to sit at the table and how to converse, for heaven’s sake! She was able to catch on to most of this, but walking was more difficult. The reason why the slave driver kept making Dorothy walk over and over again was because she wasn’t used to wearing such dresses, and the new ones Mr. Seton had purchased tangled in her legs quite often. Miss Peabody—the barracuda—explained it was because Dorothy’s strides were too wide.
Of course they were wide! She wanted to get across the room as fast as she could.
But that wasn’t good enough for Miss Peabody. So holding in a fit of grumbles, Dorothy made it across the room for the first time without tripping over her own legs—because of the dress—and keeping the book on her head.
“Excellent form.” Miss Peabody beamed. “Now we must go up on deck so you have farther to walk.”
Dorothy yanked the irritating book off her head. “I think not, Miss Peabody. I cannot possibly do as you suggest.”
“Why not?”
“People will gawk me and wonder why I’m walking with a book on my head.”
The older woman chuckled. “No, my dear. You won’t have the book. I believe you can handle the stroll on deck without that obstacle. The book was to keep your posture straight.”
Dorothy almost jumped with excitement. “Then I would be delighted to take a stroll with you.”
“Splendid. Let’s put on our cloaks and bonnets. I fear the wind might chill us more than we’re prepared for.”
Although Dorothy disagreed, she bit her tongue from voicing her opinion and yanked on the most ridiculous bonnet she’d ever owned. She didn’t know why she couldn’t wear one she’d brought from home.
As she hurried out of her cabin, she felt so silly. The cloak weighed her down almost as much as the wool dress. Then again, they were on the ship and the weather would certainly be cooler than she was used to. But at this moment, she’d rather freeze than fidget with the heavy cloak—and the insufferable ribbons on her bonnet scratching her skin.
The moment they reached the top, a cool breeze hit Dorothy’s cheeks. She smiled and closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh salt air. The sun’s rays helped to warm her through the sting of the wind. Standing here was so peaceful, even with the seagulls squawking above them and water surrounding them as far as the eye could see.
She relaxed and took in everything around her. Several couples were strolling the deck, all adorned as foolishly as she—some even more so. There were more men than women, but then the women must be ninnies who couldn’t stand the cooler temperatures.
As she and Miss Peabody walked further, the ship swayed. Dorothy steadied herself. After all, if she didn’t turn out a good performance, Miss P would surely take her back down to the torture chamber and place the thick book on her head.
“Oh, dear.” Miss Peabody groaned and touched her stomach.
Dorothy arched an eyebrow. “What ails you? You aren’t seasick, are you?”
“I fear I might be just a little.”
That’s all I need. A sick lady’s companion.
A shout of laughter pulled her attention toward the middle of the deck where four men sat around a small table playing cards. Mr. Seton stood out. Dorothy couldn’t decide if it was because he was more handsome or because he didn’t look like a fur-bundled snowman.
“Look, there is Mr. Seton,” Miss Peabody announced.
“Yes, I see him as well. I think we should go over and show him how well I’m progressing with my training.” Dorothy flashed Miss P a wide grin. “I’m certain he’ll be especially happy that you have done such a fine job.”
Scarlet blossomed on the companion’s cheeks. “Indeed, what a splendid idea.”
Excitement bubbled inside Dorothy. She was anxious to talk to Mr. Seton since they hadn’t really spoken for a week.
As they drew closer, Dorothy realized the men were betting high on their card game. She’d spent years studying faces while working at the inn. True, most of the time they were drunken expressions, but after watching her brother’s card games, she’d gotten to understand a lot. Uncertainty creased Mr. Seton’s forehead and through his narrowed gaze. A couple of the other men were bluffing and she wondered if Mr. Seton realized this.
She walked around Mr. Seton and stood directly behind his shoulder. The cards he held weren’t as bad as she feared they might be. In fact, he might win if he knew the right tactics in playing.
Her shadow cast over part of the table. Mr. Seton glanced her way before looking back at his hand. Quick as lightning, his head snapped toward her again, his eyes wide with surprise. As his gaze scanned over her, his mouth slowly lifted in a smile.
Remembering what Miss P had taught her, Dorothy dropped in a small curtsey. “Good day, Mr. Seton.”
He quickly jumped out of his chair to stand as the other men followed suit. Mr. Seton’s eyes sparkled when they met hers.
“Good day, Miss Paxton. It is a pleasure to see you out and about this morning.”
“Believe me, it’s a pleasure to be out and about instead of confined to my room.” She nodded to the others. “Are you enjoying your game, Mr. Seton?”
“Oh, the game.” He turned sharply toward the other men as if he’d suddenly forgotten they were there. “Yes, I’m quite enjoying myself.”
The man on Mr. Seton’s right cleared his throat. “Seton, old boy, are you going to introduce us to this lovely creature?”
Lovely creature? Dorothy nearly snorted a laugh from the gentleman’s compliment. Yet it was Mr. Seton’s expression that she loved watching instead, since he appeared so flustered.
“Of course.” He glanced Dorothy’s way again. “Miss Paxton, I would like to introduce you to Lord Feenly—” he pointed to the man on his right who bowed— “Lord Tippens, and Mr. Clark. Gentleman, this is the Duke of Longdale’s granddaughter, Miss Paxton, and her c
ompanion, Miss Peabody.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” they muttered.
“Likewise.” She smiled, and Miss P mumbled her greetings as well.
“Please, continue your game, gentlemen,” Dorothy said.
Nodding, they took their seats. As the game continued, the men made their bets. Once again, Mr. Seton hesitated too often. His frown and the way he shifted so much in his chair clued her to his lack of confidence. If the other men noticed, Mr. Seton would lose again. From the small amount of money he had in front of him, he hadn’t won many hands. Although he only held a full house, he could still win—with help from her, of course.
When the bets came around the table again, Mr. Seton shook his head and was ready to quit the game. Quickly, she bumped his shoulder. He lifted his gaze to her and she shook her head. Keep going, she mouthed. Confusion crossed his expression. Trust me, she mouthed again, in a silent plea.
She cleared her throat and smiled prettily. “Mr. Seton, I may not know much about playing cards, but with a hand like yours, I’m sure you can bet a little higher.”
Grumbles came from the other men, and she tried not to chuckle.
“Uh…” Mr. Seton looked at the other men. “She’s correct. I’ll raise the bet.”
Just as she suspected, Mr. Clark and Lord Tippens backed out of the game. Lord Feenly was a stubborn old coot, but his forehead was too moist for the cool breeze coming from off the sea. Not only that, but he swallowed more than normal.
The older gentleman raised the bet again. Mr. Seton hesitated, and Dorothy feared he’d back out. Just at that precise moment, the ship swayed. Even though the effect didn’t bother her, this was the perfect opportunity.
“Oh, dear.” She groaned and placed a hand over her head.
“Are you going to swoon?” Miss Peabody asked, grasping Dorothy’s arm.
Mr. Seton jumped out of his chair and reached for her, his arm sliding around her protectively. “Are you all right?”
Playing the seasick woman to the hilt, she leaned against him and placed her head on his shoulder, groaning. She tilted her head and whispered in his ear, “He’s bluffing.”
Becoming A Lady Page 3