sweetly. “A mustard bath? Some laudanum drops?” An entire bottle full of them, if she had her way.
The dowager closed her eyes as if the mere sound of Cecily’s voice pained her. “A tisane would be adequate. Thank you, Lady Tregarth.”
While her kindhearted cousin fussed over the dowager, Cecily seated herself next to Norland.
In a low, thrilling murmur, she said, “The duke has made a fascinating addition to his collection of rare fungi. Would you like to see it?”
She felt as if she were casting out improper lures to him instead of appealing to one of his many intellectual passions. Indeed, he reacted as most men would if she’d offered to show him her garters. The mere mention of a botanical discovery made him straighten, a spark of interest brightening his eye.
“Well, by Jove! I’d no notion Montford was a keen mycologist.”
Airily, she waved a hand. “Oh, His Grace is very fond of mushrooms.” Sautéed with cream and a dash of brandy. “The collection is in the conservatory. Would you like to see it?”
Norland huffed in disapproval. “The conservatory, you say? No, no, that will never do. Fungi should be kept out of the light. A cool, dark environment suits them best, you know.”
“Oh, but he’s not growing them,” said Cecily, mendacity oozing from her pores. “They’re, ah, mounted. In a case.”
Did people mount fungi in cases? She had no idea. But as the case itself was nonexistent, she needn’t concern herself about that.
Still shaking his head, Norland said, “I shall certainly have a look. Perhaps I might advise Montford on how better to preserve the specimens.”
“Oh, would you?” said Cecily, rising. “The duke would be most appreciative, I’m sure. Do come along.”
Norland leaped up with the alacrity of a man promised a high treat.
“And where do you think you’re going?” demanded the dowager duchess.
Rosamund clearly wanted to ask the same. Cecily sent her a pleading glance and received a look of resigned exasperation in return. Rosamund would exact payment in full later. A price Cecily would happily pay.
“Lady Cecily is showing me her specimens, Mama,” explained the duke without a hint of double entendre. “My lady, lead the way.”
Stifling a snort of laughter, Cecily did as she was bid.
“I am glad I had the chance to speak with you alone, Lady Cecily,” said Norland unexpectedly as they proceeded down the stairs. “I have something particular to propose to you. That is to say, I’d like to know your opinion…”
Cecily looked up at him in surprise. “What is it?”
“You are the last of your cousins to be wed and it occurred to me that Tibby … er, Miss Tibbs, I should say…” He cleared his throat. “Well, it occurred to me that Miss Tibbs might not wish to find employment elsewhere once you are wed. Do you think she would like to remain with you after we are married?”
Cecily blinked. “What a splendid idea, Norland! I should like that of all things. Tibby has forever said she will live with her sister in Cambridge when I marry, so I suppose I never thought of asking her to make her home with me.”
She put her hand on his arm. “What a kind man you are. Even if she chooses not to come, she will appreciate such a generous offer.”
Norland blushed and disclaimed. “Will you present the idea to her? I think it would be best coming from you.”
“I will do it this very day,” she promised.
When they reached the conservatory, Cecily halted. “And now I must speak with you about something of vital importance.”
He glanced down at her and then at their surroundings. With a gleam of humor he said, “ Not fungi, then.”
She laughed in surprise. On the odd occasion when he emerged from his abstraction, Norland could be quite engaging.
“No,” said Cecily. “Do forgive me. I fear that was a ruse.”
“Oh? Pity. What is it, then, Lady Cecily?” he said pleasantly. “Having second thoughts, eh? Well, well, nothing has
The dowager closed her eyes as if the mere sound of Cecily’s voice pained her. “A tisane would be adequate. Thank you, Lady Tregarth.”
While her kindhearted cousin fussed over the dowager, Cecily seated herself next to Norland.
In a low, thrilling murmur, she said, “The duke has made a fascinating addition to his collection of rare fungi. Would you like to see it?”
She felt as if she were casting out improper lures to him instead of appealing to one of his many intellectual passions. Indeed, he reacted as most men would if she’d offered to show him her garters. The mere mention of a botanical discovery made him straighten, a spark of interest brightening his eye.
“Well, by Jove! I’d no notion Montford was a keen mycologist.”
Airily, she waved a hand. “Oh, His Grace is very fond of mushrooms.” Sautéed with cream and a dash of brandy. “The collection is in the conservatory. Would you like to see it?”
Norland huffed in disapproval. “The conservatory, you say? No, no, that will never do. Fungi should be kept out of the light. A cool, dark environment suits them best, you know.”
“Oh, but he’s not growing them,” said Cecily, mendacity oozing from her pores. “They’re, ah, mounted. In a case.”
Did people mount fungi in cases? She had no idea. But as the case itself was nonexistent, she needn’t concern herself about that.
Still shaking his head, Norland said, “I shall certainly have a look. Perhaps I might advise Montford on how better to preserve the specimens.”
“Oh, would you?” said Cecily, rising. “The duke would be most appreciative, I’m sure. Do come along.”
Norland leaped up with the alacrity of a man promised a high treat.
“And where do you think you’re going?” demanded the dowager duchess.
Rosamund clearly wanted to ask the same. Cecily sent her a pleading glance and received a look of resigned exasperation in return. Rosamund would exact payment in full later. A price Cecily would happily pay.
“Lady Cecily is showing me her specimens, Mama,” explained the duke without a hint of double entendre. “My lady, lead the way.”
Stifling a snort of laughter, Cecily did as she was bid.
“I am glad I had the chance to speak with you alone, Lady Cecily,” said Norland unexpectedly as they proceeded down the stairs. “I have something particular to propose to you. That is to say, I’d like to know your opinion…”
Cecily looked up at him in surprise. “What is it?”
“You are the last of your cousins to be wed and it occurred to me that Tibby … er, Miss Tibbs, I should say…” He cleared his throat. “Well, it occurred to me that Miss Tibbs might not wish to find employment elsewhere once you are wed. Do you think she would like to remain with you after we are married?”
Cecily blinked. “What a splendid idea, Norland! I should like that of all things. Tibby has forever said she will live with her sister in Cambridge when I marry, so I suppose I never thought of asking her to make her home with me.”
She put her hand on his arm. “What a kind man you are. Even if she chooses not to come, she will appreciate such a generous offer.”
Norland blushed and disclaimed. “Will you present the idea to her? I think it would be best coming from you.”
“I will do it this very day,” she promised.
When they reached the conservatory, Cecily halted. “And now I must speak with you about something of vital importance.”
He glanced down at her and then at their surroundings. With a gleam of humor he said, “ Not fungi, then.”
She laughed in surprise. On the odd occasion when he emerged from his abstraction, Norland could be quite engaging.
“No,” said Cecily. “Do forgive me. I fear that was a ruse.”
“Oh? Pity. What is it, then, Lady Cecily?” he said pleasantly. “Having second thoughts, eh? Well, well, nothing has
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