Page 81 of Never Beguile a Duke
Winifred sighed, her shoulders sagging forward. “If Mr. Curtis is still a threat after the Duke of Roxburghe and Nora wed, the Duke of Beaufort offered to house us until their return.”
“I knew Nora wouldn’t turn her back on me!” Unmistakable glee exploded from her mother. “Why didn’t you inform me thus?”
“This is the first moment I’ve had to discuss the proposal with you.” Winifred tugged the petticoat up her legs and turned around. “You were feigning sleep when I returned last evening.”
The corners of her mother’s eyes crinkled, the only indication that Winifred’s accusation was correct.
“Why are you standing here conversing with me while the Duke of Beaufort is awaiting you in the stables?” Her mother twisted away, hurried across the room, and retrieved a corset from the trunk. “We can speak later.”
The glow in her mother’s eyes sent a shudder rippling down Winifred’s spine.
“Mother,”—Winifred drew herself to full height—“you are forbidden from meddling. You have no cause to seek an audience with the Duke of Beaufort on my behalf… or yours.”
Her mother waved off Winifred’s warning and held out the corset. “If he singles me out, may I then converse with him?”
“Yes,” Winifred replied, biting back the disparaging comment she wished to add. “However, you may only discuss the subjects he mentions.”
“I have no desire to ruin this connection for you,” her mother said, pulling the corset over Winifred’s head. “If both my girls married men of title, I would consider my duties as a mother a great success.”
Winifred bit her tongue until the taste of blood spread through her mouth.
“You’ll need an excuse for why you’ve missed the morning meal,” her mother said, oblivious to Winifred’s struggle to remain silent.
Humming, she glided back across the room to collect a floral-print, muslin gown.
“I suppose I could claim you’re feeling unwell after last night’s excitement,” she said, shaking out the dress. “And with the expulsion of Mr. Hollingsworth, no one would question the excuse.”
“Except for Nora,” Winifred replied as her mother handed over the frock. “She’ll sacrifice the day to stay with me.”
“Then, I shall have to distract her.” Her mother collected several articles of clothing from Nora’s trunk, and by the time Winifred was dressed, her mother was as well. “I expect you to remember this kindness when you are a duchess like your sister.”
Before Winifred could counter that the outcome wasn’t guaranteed, her mother yanked open the door, floated into the hallway, and closed the door.
“Nora!” The hissed word slithered into the bedchamber. “Why are you creeping down the corridor?”
“I woke early,” came Nora’s whispered response, “and didn’t want to disturb anyone.”
“As did I,” her mother replied. “Come, you can accompany me on a short stroll. Winifred requested rest after her unfortunate encounter with Mr. Hollingsworth last night and this morning.”
“This morning?” Nora’s voice faded as they walked toward the main staircase. “What else could Mr. Hollingsworth have done?”
“You must have heard him,” her mother said, the squeak of the staircase overpowering her words. “He attempted to wake the whole house in a desperate attempt to woo your sister.”
Winifred opened the door a sliver and peeked into the corridor.
Nora’s soft question floated up from the first floor. “What happened to Mr. Hollingsworth?”
“I believe he was asked to leave.” Her mother’s voice cut out as they crossed the foyer.
Glancing to the left and right, Winifred darted out of the chamber and hastened toward the main staircase. As she ran, a door creaked open behind her.
“Miss Fernsby-Webb!” The unmistakable voice of Miss Juliette whipped down the corridor.
Ducking her head, Winifred raced down the steps, hoping the young girl would believe she’d incorrectly identified Winifred, rushed across the floor, and, after ripping a greatcoat from the coat rack, yanked open the front door and hurried outside.
Guilt plaguing her, she shoved her arms into the sleeves and wrapped the edges of the large coat around her torso. Her nose wrinkled at the scent, a heady combination of spice and cedar that reminded her of the Duke of Roxburghe.
Hopefully, breakfast and Nora’s company would keep him occupied long enough that he wouldn’t notice his missing greatcoat until Winifred had a chance to return the warm covering to the coat rack.
