Page 38 of My Own True Duchess
“Six,” Jonathan replied, casually taking the decanter from Sycamore Dorning’s grasp. “No, that’s not right. Seven. I’m considering seven.” A lucky number since the days of the Romans, though Jonathan did not believe in luck.
“I started with a list of twelve. Most demented bit of arrogance I ever came up with, and my sisters abetted me. They likely wagered on the outcome, but my duchess foiled us all.”
Foiled had never looked so fatuously content. Jonathan shoved Anselm’s arm. “Go join what is sure to be the losing team. A man who needs a field of twelve potential duchesses to get him into the marital lists is a sorry creature.”
“I have ever been one to thrive on challenges,” Anselm said, passing Jonathan his empty glass. “The point is, I found the right duchess, or she found me, and she is all the treasure and happiness I will ever need. Enjoy courting seven women at once, Tresham, and get as much rest as you can. You’ll need it.”
Jonathan filled Anselm’s drink from the decanter. “Who said anything about courting all seven? I’ll consider six of them, but I intend to court only the one.”
Anselm took his drink and lifted it a few inches in the air. “To your own true duchess, whoever she may be.”
* * *
“The peaches are all gone,” Diana said, dragging her spoon through her porridge. “Peaches and porridge would go ever so well together.”
The scent of cinnamon wafted up from her bowl, an indication of Theo’s improved circumstances. She’d given Cook leave to replenish the spices, an unprecedented extravagance.
“All good things must end,” Seraphina said, “and you oughtn’t to play with your food.”
Diana took a mouthful of her breakfast. “Peaches don’t end. We could buy more.”
“No,” Theo said, “we cannot. They were a gift, and peaches are very dear.”
“Dear,” Diana huffed. “Rhymes with sneer, rear, fear, mere, jeer, drear… I do not like dear.”
“Dear also rhymes with cheer,” Seraphina retorted. “Clear, peer, and persevere. I like it very well.”
Diana frowned at the spot two feet above the sugar bowl. “Chevalier. Leap year. Disappear.”
“Your vocabulary is impressive,” said a masculine voice from the doorway. “Dare I suggest the words atmosphere and belvedere?”
Jonathan Tresham wore riding attire and the beginnings of a smile. Theo’s morning tea did a little dance in her belly, while Williams hovered behind Mr. Tresham, looking pleased with herself.
“Mr. Tresham, you must join us,” Theo said. “Williams, another place setting, if you please.”
Seraphina sat very tall, back not touching her chair. Diana watched Mr. Tresham as if he might steal her porridge.
“Thank you,” he said. “I’ve enjoyed the morning air in Hyde Park, and some sustenance wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Do you mean you’re hungry?” Diana asked.
Seraphina bowed her head.
“Mr. Tresham, you are joining us for a family meal,” Theo said. “Otherwise, Diana would never forget her manners so far as to interrogate an adult guest.”
“I am hungry,” Mr. Tresham said, taking the seat at Theo’s right hand, which put him next to Diana. “Also no great supporter of fancy words when plain speaking will do. I apologize for stopping by at such an hour, but my path took me past your door.”
“Was the park glorious at dawn?” Seraphina was blushing. She had so little opportunity to converse with men that Theo applauded her courage.
“The park was quiet,” Mr. Tresham said as Theo rose to fill a plate for him at the sideboard. “One forgets how precious natural quiet can be, how restorative.”
“I find it so as well,” Seraphina said, “though I’ve never been to the park at dawn.”
Diana waved her spoon. “Why on earth would you leave a nice warm—?”
Theo set the plate before her guest. “We’ve more of everything.” Thanks to you. The feelings that went along with having Mr. Tresham’s money were complicated. Gratitude certainly, but also anxiety.
If Theo were to broach the outlandish possibility of an affair with him, would the discussion become sordid? Lucrative? Was she lost to all sense to even allow such musings into her mind?
