How to Capture a Countess (Duchess Diaries 1) by Karen Hawkins Page A

just me, my two sisters, and my father.”
    “The horticulturalist.”
    “Why, yes. Father is a bit of a recluse and spends most of his time in the greenhouses, so I fear we don’t have many guests.” Miss Balfour hesitated. “I do hope you find nothing in my behavior to give you pause. We don’t socialize formally at Caith Manor and—”
    “You’ll be fine, dear.” Charlotte smiled reassuringlyand picked up her knitting needles and began to knit once again. “If you’ve any questions, you’ve but to ask one of us and we’ll set you to rights. Won’t we, Margaret?”
    “Of course,” Margaret agreed, liking Miss Balfour’s unusual plainspoken ways more and more. “I’m sure we can set you upon the right path of any—”
    Weenie jumped into Miss Balfour’s now empty lap and she chuckled and patted the dog, seemingly unconcerned about the creases the animal might cause her gown.
    “You like dogs, I see,” Margaret said, still trying to decide what to make of this decidedly odd girl.
    “Indeed I do. MacDougal told me all of their names in the hallway.” She looked at the other pugs now lined up at her feet. “Why do all of their names rhyme except Randolph’s?” She indicated the older dog that sat some distance away, panting as if he’d just run up a flight of steps. His tail wagged as she said his name.
    “I’ve had him for twelve years, while the others are far more recent acquisitions. I suppose I wasn’t in a rhyming mood then.”
    Miss Balfour nodded, and another loop of her hair fell from a pin.
    Margaret and Charlotte exchanged a look. Miss Balfour, unaware she was being measured, hugged the dog in her lap and said absently, “I love animals. Better, in fact, than I like people.”
    As soon as she said the words, she sent Margaret an embarrassed glance. “Not that I dislike people, for I don’t. People are very nice and I think they’re—” She gestured, obviously desperately searching for words.
    “I daresay we all feel that way at times,” Margaret said. “But don’t worry about our house party. We are a small group this year. Smaller than ever before.”
    “Yes,” Charlotte said. “Her grace decided to have a very private sort of affair this year. Quite intimate, even—”
    “I wouldn’t call it intimate,” Margaret said firmly, sending Charlotte a warning glance, which she didn’t seem to notice. Margaret turned back to their guest. “When I first wed Roxburghe, we used to invite forty couples or more for the weeks prior to the ball, but over time we’ve reduced that number, and this year, I invited even fewer as Roxburghe won’t be here until the night before the ball.”
    “The duke’s not in residence?”
    “I’m afraid not. He’s quite entangled in politics, you know, and with the question of the Regency growing in urgency, he doesn’t dare return home any sooner.” Margaret smiled at her young guest. “Lady Charlotte and I would love to visit with you longer, but I’m sure you would like to rest before dinner.”
    “I am a bit tired,” Rose agreed. “Have the other guests arrived?”
    “They’re all here except my great-nephew, who should arrive later this afternoon.”
    Lady Charlotte smiled benignly, her needles clacking along. “You will enjoy your time here. There’s so much to do at Floors Castle. There’s whist, croquet, billiards, rides by the river—I’m sure you’ll be very busy.”
    “Very,” Margaret agreed and turned to MacDougal, who still stood inside the doorway. “Please escort Miss Balfour to the Blue Bedchamber.”
    MacDougal bowed.
    Margaret turned back to her guest. “I look forward to speaking with you more over dinner. Meanwhile, I do hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us. We have an excellent stable, and Roxburghe is a great reader and has stuffed the library with mounds of books. You are free to borrow as many as you’d like.”
    Miss Balfour’s face lit up and for a moment, she appeared quite pretty. “Oh,