Page 56 of How to Ruin a Duke
“She ate as if famished, Elsmore, as we used to eat at public school, watching the food on our plates lest it disappear before we could consume it.I had the kitchen send the leftovers along with us when I walked her ladyship home.That food did not go to waste.”
Elsmore set aside his now-empty bowl.“You carried leftovers across London like some ticket porter?That is a fact in contradiction to everything I know of you, my friend.If Lady Edith is truly short of funds, perhaps she’d accept an arrangement that benefits both parties.”
Thaddeus’s own thoughts had wandered in that direction, late of a solitudinous night.He did not castigate himself for noticing an attractive female, much less one who put him in his place as easily as she dropped a curtsey.
“Her ladyship would fillet me if I even hinted at such a proposition.”Which made her refreshingly different from the widows and duchesses-in-waiting who all but sat in Thaddeus’s lap to gain his attention.The odd thing was, Lady Edith, in her horrid pink cloak and tired bonnet was more interesting to him than any heiress or courtesan had ever been.
Her ladyship could talk about something other than the weather, fashion, or gossip.She had common sense and a tart tongue, and how had Thaddeus all but failed to notice her for the two years she’d been a member of his household?
But then, he knew how: She’d taken consistent, well thought out measures not to be noticed.A quiet manner, drab attire, unremarkable conversation.Just as she’d weighted her reticule with a hidden means of defense, so too had she avoided catching Thaddeus’s eye.
“Not that sort of arrangement,” Elsmore said, lowering his voice.“Lady Edith knows your family and your social circle, she would respect your confidences, and you’ve already explained the problem to her.Offer her something she values in exchange for her assistance tracking down the author ofHow to Ruin a Duke.You could doubtless find her another post, for example.”
Thaddeus didn’t want to find her another damned post, didn’t want her once again consigned to the conundrum of being neither servant nor family, but having the burdens of both statuses.
“I doubt she liked being Mama’s companion, but she does fancy herself as an author of domestic advice.”
Elmore finished his wine.“Offer to sponsor those aspirations.Have a word with a publisher on her behalf.You’re a duke.The publishers have to be polite to you.”
“Lady Edith wasn’t polite to me.”She’d twitted him, truth be told.
“Then you’d best pay a call on her before she accepts a post in Lesser Road Apple.She’s making you smile and inspiring you to fashioning butter sandwiches.She also had you traipsing about London with a sack of comestibles like her personal footman.”
“True enough.”And—most telling of all—she and her situation had kept Thaddeus awake half the night.“You have a point, Elsmore.That doesn’t happen often, so we should remark the rare occasion when it befalls us.You do have a point.”
Chapter Four
“If the Duke of Amorous asks you to dance, you should smile, curtsey, and run like the devil.”
FromHow to Ruin a Duke, by Anonymous
Rainy days were particularly vexing to Edith.Her half-boots did not keep her feet dry, she had neither umbrella nor parasol, and yet, if she wanted to procure something to eat, then go out, she must.Foster had sallied forth to do whatever he did of an early afternoon, while Edith had put off a trip to the nearest bake shop as long as she could.
“It’s not a downpour,” she muttered, donning her cloak.“More of a drizzle.Barely qualifies as rain.”
And yet, a London drizzle had a chilly, penetrating quality that wilted bonnets and spirits alike.She decided against her bonnet and instead took down the only other choice, a wide-brimmed straw hat left over from when she’d spent an occasional morning in Her Grace of Emory’s flower garden.
Edith tied the ribbons firmly under her chin—the wind was gusting most disagreeably—and gathered up her reticule.
“There and home in no time,” she said, gloved hand on the door latch.
A stout triple knock had her leaping back.Did bill collectors knock like that?She wasn’t behind on anything that she knew of, but Foster’s finances were mysterious to her.
Edith cracked the door to find a very wet Duke of Emory standing on her front porch.“Your Grace.Good day.”
“Might I come in?This deluge shows no signs of abating and I seem to have misplaced my ark.”
Water dripped from his hat brim, and the fragrance of his shaving soap blended with the scent of damp wool and… fresh bread?
“I am home alone,” Edith said, stepping aside.“You shouldn’t stay long.”
The temperature was dropping and the wind picking up.She really could not leave him on the stoop, nor did she want to let the house’s meager heat out by standing about with the door open.
“I will stay only long enough to complete my business.I brought food.”He held up a sack as Edith closed the door behind him.“You will accept the sustenance.I am hungry, I missed my nuncheon, and you would not be rude to a guest, would you?”
“Not until after we’ve eaten.”Edith took his greatcoat from his shoulders.The garment had three capes and weighed more than her entire wardrobe combined.“I can’t even offer you tea to go with the food, though.”
“No matter.I brought hot tea as well.”
