Page 36 of His Duchess of Scandal
She could only hope she did not find out too soon.
“Then we will be Phoebe and Hermia.”
“CleverPhoebe,” Phoebe corrected, making her laugh as she tucked into her food.
The girl joined in, smiling as she picked up a stalk of asparagus.
“You like your vegetables,” Hermia noted.
“I do.” Phoebe nodded. “Mrs. Nightgale often jokes that it is one of the best things about me, that I am not so fussy to toss them off my plate. She told me that her daughter did it when she was my age.”
“Well, let me tell you something,” Hermia whispered, as if she were sharing a secret. “When I was your age, I hid mine in a napkin so I did not have to eat them, and I told my mama that I thoroughly enjoyed everything on my plate. Of course, it did not work, for they served them to me over and over.”
Phoebe’s eyes widened. “Did they find out?”
Hermia winked at her. “I was clever, just like you, so they did not.”
“What about your horse? Papa said you have a horse, and I saw it in the stables when we returned to Branmere Manor.”
“I do have a horse,” Hermia confirmed, bracing herself for the incoming barrage of questions. “Her name is Aphrodite.”
Phoebe tried to pronounce the name, so Hermia helped her, smiling.
“Do you have a horse?”
“I have a pony,” Phoebe said matter-of-factly. “His name is Gerald because I had a fish named Gerald when I was only a baby, and I liked the name. I think I will get many pets one daywhen I have my own home like Papa does here, and I will name them all Gerald.”
Hermia couldn’t help but laugh again. “I see. I think it is a fine name.”
“It is. Do you like painting?”
The question made Hermia’s skin prickle. “No, but only because I do not have a talent for it. I do, however, enjoy looking at paintings.”
“My papa likes painting. What did the painting of you look like? How did he know how to paint you? You are very beautiful. I am certain Papa painted your beauty very well.”
Hermia paused, uncertain how to answer. She lifted her glass to her lips to buy herself some time.
“Is that how Papa met you? Through looking at paintings?”
Hermia choked a little on her wine, looking at the innocently curious little girl.
Heavens.
A flash of silk curtains and mouths moving against each other flitted through her mind. Bodies entwined, and the Duke’s lowvoice telling her that her tongue tasted sweet, that her lips were stained ruby red with wine.
Hermia took a delicate sip to chase the memories away and cleared her throat. “What else do you like to do, Phoebe?”
If Phoebe noticed how she changed the topic, she didn’t comment on it or seem to mind. It seemed her curiosity was sated enough to be distracted, perhaps just happy to speak at all with someone over dinner.
Hermia felt a pang in her heart.
“I like reading,” Phoebe said. “For my birthday last year, one of my gifts was a book of fairytales. There is one in it about several sisters who sneak out of their castle to dance! They dance and they dance, and it is ever so magical. I think that will be my future when I am old enough. Oh, it is like your family! There are lots of sisters, and they love one another.”
“Phoebe, when you are old enough to dance in ballrooms, I am certain you will experience that magic. No. In fact, I willmakeit happen. That is my promise to you. Your father and I—” Hermia broke off, rethinking her sentiment. “I will be proud of you, and I am certain your papa will find you a perfect dance partner.”
Phoebe laughed quietly for a second, clearly delighted, but then she sobered up.
She pushed her food around her plate with her fork. “But I do not think Papa will be proud. Or maybe he will not even notice when I enter a ballroom and find my magic. Did your papa notice?”
