looking for husband.” She gave Alexandra another sly look.
Alexandra
nearly laughed out loud. She could clearly see the Dowager’s strategy,
sending in Miranda just to make sure Alexandra was worthy of tea. She
chose to be blunt and hoped the elderly woman was listening at the door.
“My uncle
has engaged Lady Agnes Dobson to be my sponsor and has instructed her to find
me a husband.” There was no need to relay her true circumstances to Lady
Reynolds. “I would prefer to simply return home and begin breeding my
livestock.” Alexandra decided to shock Miranda back. Young ladies
did not discuss livestock or breeding, ever, and especially not in a parlor
over tea. She waited for Miranda’s reaction.
Miranda’s
eyes widened, then she burst into charmed laughter. “Oh, Grandmother was so right about you, Alexandra! I may call you Alexandra?” She reached out
and patted Alexandra’s knee. “I hope I haven’t offended you.”
“Not in the
least.” Alexandra’s gaze flicked to a book on the side table. Lord
Thurston and the Wicked Countess .
Miranda saw
her look and burst into a fit of giggles. “Yes, it’s mine. I do so
love Lord Thurston. Have you read any of them?”
Alexandra
gave a nod of assent. “All but the last two.” The books were likely still
sitting in the study at Helmsby Abbey. She had forgotten to pack them in
her distress over Odious Oliver summoning her to London.
“Oh, but
this is wonderful! The author of the Lord Thurston series
quite intrigues me. The mysterious J . Cam has a
friend, Lord Wently, who is one of the most arrogant men I’ve ever met.”
Miranda’s mouth pursed. “He is part owner in the publishing house that prints
the Lord Thurston novels. I am quite sure he knows who the mysterious J is but he refuses to tell. I keep asking Cam to pressure Lord Wently but
he refuses and –“
“Enough,
Miranda! I can hear you chattering down the hall. Miss Dunforth has
not said a word I will merit. She is likely to slash open the sofa
pillows and put the stuffing in her ears. Pray do quit talking.”
The Dowager Marchioness strolled in, assisted by a young footman. Her
silver hair was piled high atop her head. She looked tired and walked
stiffly, but her eyes sparkled as she saw Alexandra.
Alexandra
stood and curtsied. She wondered if she had passed the Dowager’s test.
“Oh, do sit
down, Miss Dunforth. I’m afraid the only one who demands all that pomp
and circumstance at home is my daughter-in-law.” She clasped
Alexandra’s hands in her own and squeezed them. “Miranda, will you please
pour?”
The Dowager
began asking questions. She wanted to know all about Alexandra’s
upbringing, what languages she spoke, what subjects she had studied, and what
she knew about farming, of all things! She was rapt with attention as
Alexandra explained how she managed Helmsby Abbey first for her aunt, then on
her own. She spoke lovingly of Mrs. Cowries and Jameson. How Cook made
the best scones in England. The Dowager laughed and clapped her
hands as Miranda related the ‘livestock breeding’ comment while Alexandra
blushed in embarrassment. The older woman seemed inordinately
pleased to hear that not only was Alexandra a bluestocking, but also a
gentleman farmer, of a sort. When Alexandra told the Dowager she knew how
to make an apple pie, the elderly woman insisted that Alexandra must make her
one straightaway.
“Once you
marry, will you be bringing Cook and her excellent scones to your new home? Or
are you planning on living at this Helmsby Abbey? I can tell you miss it
terribly.” The Dowager’s brow wrinkled at the question.
Alexandra
twisted her hands and tried to choose her words carefully. “It is my sincerest
hope.”
The Dowager
watched her with hooded eyes. “Indeed? “ She peered at Alexandra
closely, waiting to see if she would say more. When
Alexandra
nearly laughed out loud. She could clearly see the Dowager’s strategy,
sending in Miranda just to make sure Alexandra was worthy of tea. She
chose to be blunt and hoped the elderly woman was listening at the door.
“My uncle
has engaged Lady Agnes Dobson to be my sponsor and has instructed her to find
me a husband.” There was no need to relay her true circumstances to Lady
Reynolds. “I would prefer to simply return home and begin breeding my
livestock.” Alexandra decided to shock Miranda back. Young ladies
did not discuss livestock or breeding, ever, and especially not in a parlor
over tea. She waited for Miranda’s reaction.
Miranda’s
eyes widened, then she burst into charmed laughter. “Oh, Grandmother was so right about you, Alexandra! I may call you Alexandra?” She reached out
and patted Alexandra’s knee. “I hope I haven’t offended you.”
“Not in the
least.” Alexandra’s gaze flicked to a book on the side table. Lord
Thurston and the Wicked Countess .
Miranda saw
her look and burst into a fit of giggles. “Yes, it’s mine. I do so
love Lord Thurston. Have you read any of them?”
Alexandra
gave a nod of assent. “All but the last two.” The books were likely still
sitting in the study at Helmsby Abbey. She had forgotten to pack them in
her distress over Odious Oliver summoning her to London.
“Oh, but
this is wonderful! The author of the Lord Thurston series
quite intrigues me. The mysterious J . Cam has a
friend, Lord Wently, who is one of the most arrogant men I’ve ever met.”
Miranda’s mouth pursed. “He is part owner in the publishing house that prints
the Lord Thurston novels. I am quite sure he knows who the mysterious J is but he refuses to tell. I keep asking Cam to pressure Lord Wently but
he refuses and –“
“Enough,
Miranda! I can hear you chattering down the hall. Miss Dunforth has
not said a word I will merit. She is likely to slash open the sofa
pillows and put the stuffing in her ears. Pray do quit talking.”
The Dowager Marchioness strolled in, assisted by a young footman. Her
silver hair was piled high atop her head. She looked tired and walked
stiffly, but her eyes sparkled as she saw Alexandra.
Alexandra
stood and curtsied. She wondered if she had passed the Dowager’s test.
“Oh, do sit
down, Miss Dunforth. I’m afraid the only one who demands all that pomp
and circumstance at home is my daughter-in-law.” She clasped
Alexandra’s hands in her own and squeezed them. “Miranda, will you please
pour?”
The Dowager
began asking questions. She wanted to know all about Alexandra’s
upbringing, what languages she spoke, what subjects she had studied, and what
she knew about farming, of all things! She was rapt with attention as
Alexandra explained how she managed Helmsby Abbey first for her aunt, then on
her own. She spoke lovingly of Mrs. Cowries and Jameson. How Cook made
the best scones in England. The Dowager laughed and clapped her
hands as Miranda related the ‘livestock breeding’ comment while Alexandra
blushed in embarrassment. The older woman seemed inordinately
pleased to hear that not only was Alexandra a bluestocking, but also a
gentleman farmer, of a sort. When Alexandra told the Dowager she knew how
to make an apple pie, the elderly woman insisted that Alexandra must make her
one straightaway.
“Once you
marry, will you be bringing Cook and her excellent scones to your new home? Or
are you planning on living at this Helmsby Abbey? I can tell you miss it
terribly.” The Dowager’s brow wrinkled at the question.
Alexandra
twisted her hands and tried to choose her words carefully. “It is my sincerest
hope.”
The Dowager
watched her with hooded eyes. “Indeed? “ She peered at Alexandra
closely, waiting to see if she would say more. When
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