servant to ride with us in the carriage.”
Melissa stifled a sigh. It was apparent that Jane had no compunction whatsoever about regarding her as a servant. “There is no need to disoblige yourself. Lady Beckworth is sending a carriage to carry me to the mansion.”
“How very odd!” Jane’s eyes widened. “Lady Beckworth is sending a carriage for you?”
“Yes. If there is nothing further you wish of me, I must put on a clean gown so that I am ready when it arrives.”
Melissa was almost at the door when her stepmother called her back. “There is one other thing, Melissa. If we should meet by chance at the ball this evening, you must needs remember to treat us with the proper deference.”
“Yes, my lady.” Melissa bobbed her head in the manner of a servant and was gratified to see that both Regina and Dorothea were stifling their amusement at her parody. “I shall be certain to do so.”
This reply seemed to satisfy Jane for she waved her dismissal. “Off with you then. It would be very bad
ton
to keep Lady Beckworth’s coachman cooling his heels in her carriage.”
Robert Whiting, Duke of Oakwood, was not enjoying a pleasant afternoon. His day had begun at half past noon when he had awakened blurry-eyed and with a frightful pain in his head. His valet had hurried to fetch a vile potion that he guaranteed would put his grace to rights again and Robert had choked it down. Either the libations at Boodle’s were not up to scratch, or his person was rebelling against several consecutive nights spent gaming at that gentlemen’s club. If he were not careful, he should turn into a tosspot in his effort to avoid the other, more genteel amusements of the current London Season.
The message from his mother had come shortly before tea time and it had not been the usual polite request to join her, his elder sister and her husband, and his uncle for refreshment and social converse in the Drawing Room. It had been a summons, pure and simple, and by the particular words the duchess had chosen, Robert knew that his presence was not only required but also demanded.
Robert sighed, approaching the Drawing Room door with heavy steps. He surmised he knew precisely what turn this meeting would take and he did not like it. There had been enough gentle hints, over the past two years, and Robert was no fool.It was true that it was past time for him to marry. Most of his friends had married long ago, and only the most hardened bachelor could resist much longer. He was two-and-thirty, still unmarried, and quite the most eligible catch of the past six Seasons. There was no doubt whatsoever, in Robert’s mind, that the members of his family had gathered together for one sole purpose, to apprise him once again of his ducal obligations and to urge him to take a wife before the year was out and to set up his nursery in short order.
Robert squared his shoulders, wiped the scowl off his handsome face, and ran his fingers through his wheat-colored hair. He prayed his eyes were not as bloodshot as they felt and took a deep breath for courage. His mother undoubtedly had some young lady in mind for him. He had met the previous three, very nice girls if the truth were told, and had neatly arranged to discourage their interest without causing them any pain. How much longer he could continue to perform such a feat, Robert wasn’t certain. The last young lady had been most persistent and only by making a spectacle of himself at a gaming hell her brother was wont to frequent, had he managed to thwart her desire to marry him.
Robert had searched his heart and found it empty of love for anyone other than his family. He could honestly claim that he had never been pierced by cupid’s arrow or found himself drawn inexorably to a particular young lady. That he liked the young ladies was well evident, and he enjoyed himself greatly in their company. But as far as settling down with one in particular, he had never found himself inclined of the
Melissa stifled a sigh. It was apparent that Jane had no compunction whatsoever about regarding her as a servant. “There is no need to disoblige yourself. Lady Beckworth is sending a carriage to carry me to the mansion.”
“How very odd!” Jane’s eyes widened. “Lady Beckworth is sending a carriage for you?”
“Yes. If there is nothing further you wish of me, I must put on a clean gown so that I am ready when it arrives.”
Melissa was almost at the door when her stepmother called her back. “There is one other thing, Melissa. If we should meet by chance at the ball this evening, you must needs remember to treat us with the proper deference.”
“Yes, my lady.” Melissa bobbed her head in the manner of a servant and was gratified to see that both Regina and Dorothea were stifling their amusement at her parody. “I shall be certain to do so.”
This reply seemed to satisfy Jane for she waved her dismissal. “Off with you then. It would be very bad
ton
to keep Lady Beckworth’s coachman cooling his heels in her carriage.”
Robert Whiting, Duke of Oakwood, was not enjoying a pleasant afternoon. His day had begun at half past noon when he had awakened blurry-eyed and with a frightful pain in his head. His valet had hurried to fetch a vile potion that he guaranteed would put his grace to rights again and Robert had choked it down. Either the libations at Boodle’s were not up to scratch, or his person was rebelling against several consecutive nights spent gaming at that gentlemen’s club. If he were not careful, he should turn into a tosspot in his effort to avoid the other, more genteel amusements of the current London Season.
The message from his mother had come shortly before tea time and it had not been the usual polite request to join her, his elder sister and her husband, and his uncle for refreshment and social converse in the Drawing Room. It had been a summons, pure and simple, and by the particular words the duchess had chosen, Robert knew that his presence was not only required but also demanded.
Robert sighed, approaching the Drawing Room door with heavy steps. He surmised he knew precisely what turn this meeting would take and he did not like it. There had been enough gentle hints, over the past two years, and Robert was no fool.It was true that it was past time for him to marry. Most of his friends had married long ago, and only the most hardened bachelor could resist much longer. He was two-and-thirty, still unmarried, and quite the most eligible catch of the past six Seasons. There was no doubt whatsoever, in Robert’s mind, that the members of his family had gathered together for one sole purpose, to apprise him once again of his ducal obligations and to urge him to take a wife before the year was out and to set up his nursery in short order.
Robert squared his shoulders, wiped the scowl off his handsome face, and ran his fingers through his wheat-colored hair. He prayed his eyes were not as bloodshot as they felt and took a deep breath for courage. His mother undoubtedly had some young lady in mind for him. He had met the previous three, very nice girls if the truth were told, and had neatly arranged to discourage their interest without causing them any pain. How much longer he could continue to perform such a feat, Robert wasn’t certain. The last young lady had been most persistent and only by making a spectacle of himself at a gaming hell her brother was wont to frequent, had he managed to thwart her desire to marry him.
Robert had searched his heart and found it empty of love for anyone other than his family. He could honestly claim that he had never been pierced by cupid’s arrow or found himself drawn inexorably to a particular young lady. That he liked the young ladies was well evident, and he enjoyed himself greatly in their company. But as far as settling down with one in particular, he had never found himself inclined of the
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