Page 43 of Never Beguile a Duke
At least, that’s what Winifred assumed the girl said; Miss Juliette mashed all the words into one without taking a breath.
Nora peeked into the corridor, rubbing a faint line of worry etched across her forehead. “Ah! Winifred. I was concerned you might still be on the floor.”
“How is Mother?” Winifred asked, pushing the door open wider and peering into the dim room.
“She’s still sleeping.” Nora dropped her gaze to Miss Juliette. “I wish I could go with you, but one of us needs to stay until my stepmother wakes.”
“Is she going to live?” Miss Juliette asked, twisting her fingers together.
“Yes. Because of you,” Nora replied, tapping Miss Juliette on her nose.
Beaming, Miss Juliette turned and floated down the staircase.
“Miss Wilmington.” Pulling the door closed behind her, Nora curtsied. “I’d invite you to spend the morning with me, but I believe sledding outweighs just about every other option.”
“And, as honored as I would be to receive your invitation,” Miss Wilmington mirrored Nora’s curtsy. “I’d be forced to decline, as refusing my previous engagement would cost me a hair ribbon.”
“A hair ribbon?” The line returned to Nora’s forehead, and her eyes slid to Winifred. “Why would Miss Wilmington pay a hair ribbon to forego sledding?”
“No reason.” Winifred tilted her head, grinning, and wrapped her arm through Miss Wilmington’s. “Come, we mustn’t tarry. I’m not certain where the stables are located, and if we lose Miss Juliette, we’ll spend the remainder of the morning searching for her instead of sledding.”
Thankfully, Nora didn’t chase them down the staircase, though her scowl expressed her disapproval at the idea of Miss Juliette gambling again.
Miss Juliette rushed toward them as they reached the base of the steps, slipping on the slick foyer tiles and grabbing hold of the banister post to prevent herself from crashing into Winifred’s legs.
“I feared you may have changed your mind,” Miss Juliette panted, her hazel eyes filling with tears.
“Certainly not.” Winifred released Miss Wilmington’s arm and sat on the third step, bringing herself eye level with the young girl. “My sister is disappointed she cannot accompany us this morning, and to offset her absence, she’s also volunteering a hair ribbon to the winner.”
Unsure of Miss Wilmington’s character, Winifred prayed the woman wouldn’t call attention to the tiny falsehood.
Instead, Miss Wilmington sank beside Winifred and said, “Before we depart, perhaps you should verify there are no guests in the parlor who’d like to participate.”
“Me?” Paling, Miss Juliette took a hesitant step backward.
“As the sole remaining host, the duty falls to you to entertain the guests,” Miss Wilmington replied, then she leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin. “Imagine how many ribbons you could win.”
With a whoop, Miss Juliette took off running toward the parlor. She burst into the room, her exuberance ricocheting into the foyer. A mixture of ‘ayes’ and ‘nays’ responded to her indecipherable, staccato question, and one minute later she emerged with Miss Braddock, her fiancé, the Duke of Lennox, and the Duke of Mansfield, an addition Winifred found most peculiar.
“Your Grace,” Winifred curtsied to the Duke of Mansfield, “I’m surprised the suggestion of sledding appealed to you.”
He offered a stiff bow in return. “I lost several hands of cards to Mr. Braddock last night, and my tithe is assuming his place as his sister’s chaperone for the whole of the day.”
Leading Miss Braddock across the foyer toward the main door, the Duke of Lennox scowled at the Duke of Mansfield and muttered, “I would have preferred Mr. Braddock’s company. You have been irritable since breakfast.”
“Solely, because I find myself at the mercy of your whims.”
“We’ll relieve you,” Miss Wilmington said, adding a curtsy. “If His Grace prefers to remain inside the residence, Miss Fernsby-Webb and I can act as chaperones, and then you can resume your duties upon our return.”
The Duke of Mansfield’s dark gaze flicked to Miss Wilmington, then slid from the top of her head to her feet and back. She didn’t shrink from his inspection; instead, she stood as still as a statue, patiently waiting for him to speak.
“I appreciate your offer, Miss Wilmington.” He inclined his head. “However, you should know from your previous encounters with me that I don’t foist my duties onto others.”
“Then, I suppose you’re racing for hair ribbons as well?” Miss Wilmington’s eyes twinkled.
“What other reason is there?” he replied, earning a giggle from all three ladies, excepting Miss Juliette, whose wary gaze locked on him as she hovered on the opposite side of Miss Braddock.
“How is your mother?” Miss Braddock asked, retrieving a fur-lined pelisse from the coatrack near the front door.
