Page 25 of An Arranged Betrothal with an Icy Duke
“I think I shall concede to all that you have suggested, Your Grace,” she said, a little apologetically. “I have not ever planned a ball before and though I can have opinions, none of what I say will have any basis on previous experience. Though,” she continued, offering the lady a small smile, “I am very eagerindeed to learn all I can from you. I know that there will be a great many things to take in, a great many things for me to learn and I am grateful to you for your willingness to do so.”
The Duchess tilted her head and studied Edith, her eyes flashing. “I see,” she said, rather crisply. “Well, I suppose that I should not expect too much from you. You have a reprieve this time, Miss Tidemore, but I shall certainly expect a little more from you the next time there is a ball to be planned!”
“Of course.” Edith inclined her head, deferring to the Duchess’ authority. “Thank you again for your understanding, Your Grace.”
The Duchess nodded but did not smile as she stepped away. Edith followed after her, albeit a little more slowly, her shoulders rounding as she considered that, in the Duchess’ eyes, she had certainly failed.
Chapter Fourteen
“A carriage ride into the village was just the thing to entertain your guests.”
Henry sniffed and looked out of the window. “Mayhap. Some of them were a little disappointed at the rain, though I cannot do much about that.” He continued to gaze out of the window, waiting for his betrothed to come and join them in the carriage so they might all return home. She, Lady Eaveswood and another of the house guests, Miss Grifford, were standing together talking about what they had found and purchased from the haberdashery. It was only a small place but Henry knew that the proprietor would be delighted at what had been purchased. He found himself smiling at that, glad that his betrothed had encouraged the other two ladies to step inside. Perhaps she was as aware as he was just how much such a thing would mean to those who had these small places of business.
“I do not know how they can stand out there and talk when it is raining,” his mother muttered, clearly a little frustrated that Miss Tidemore had not yet returned to the carriage. “They will get very damp and then they will, no doubt, catch cold!”
“It is only drizzling, Mother,” Henry answered, quietly. “And I shall be out in the rain and the cold this afternoon when I go hunting. Are you going to complain about that also?” He arched an eyebrow but his mother only huffed out a breath and then looked away, leaving his question unanswered. Turning his attention back to the window, Henry continued to watch the ladies talking, only to see a rather ragged, bedraggled child come up to them. The boy said something that Henry could not make out, though he immediately saw the compassion which flooded Miss Tidemore’s expression. She crouched down, speaking tothe child with a gentleness in her eyes which softened Henry’s heart. The boy was nodding and Miss Tidemore smiled – only for his mother to let out a loud exclamation which made Henry start.
“Do you not see this, Fairglen?” With one sweeping motion, she threw out her hand towards the scene unfolding before them. “Will you not do something?”
“Dosomething?”
“Yes! You cannot permit her to continue on doing such a thing as this! This cannot continue. It is not seemly for a Duchess.”
“Mother, I have nothing of concern here,” Henry answered, quietly. “Leave Miss Tidemore to do as she pleases.”
“As I have said to you already, this sort of thing cannot continue,” his mother said, all the more firmly. “You should be putting a stop to this rather than encouraging it! It is not right for a Duchess to be giving out alms to those who ask for them. You will be overrun with the poor coming to ask for this and that, knowing that the Duchess is much too soft-hearted and – ”
“Enough, Mother!” Henry cut her off with a little more sharpness than he would have otherwise spoken with, leaving her mouth to fall open in surprise, her eyes wide. Letting out a small breath of exasperation, Henry spread out his hands. “I do not see a problem with what Miss Tidemore is doing.”
His mother tilted up her chin, her eyes flashing. “Then if you do not want to say anything, I shall.”
Before Henry could say or do anything to prevent her, his mother had made her way out of the carriage and was hurrying across to where Miss Tidemore and the other two ladies stood. Filled with exasperation, Henry climbed out after her, only to see his mother grasp the child by the shoulder and push him roughly back.
“You should not be anywherenearus, you filthy urchin!” the Duchess cried, just as Henry drew closer. “And you, Miss Tidemore, have no need to even bespeakingwith such a child. Do you not know that they will take advantage of you?”
“I – I do not see that,” Miss Tidemore said, her voice quiet but her eyes filled with a sympathy which made Henry’s heart soften also. “I see a hungry child who sought out a little sustenance from us.”
“Pah!” The Duchess exclaimed, swiping the air between the small boy and herself who was now beginning to creep backwards, his eyes rounded and filled with fear. “You clearly do not understand what such children are like, Miss Tidemore! They come to steal and to take whatever they can from the likes of you, for you are much too tender-hearted!”
Miss Tidemore dropped her head and something in Henry’s heart tore. “Enough, Mother.” Seeing her turn to him, he shook his head. “I do not agree with you in this, as I have stated. Let Miss Tidemore show any kindness she wishes.” So saying, he pulled out a small bag of coins from his pocket and, after a moment, turned to the small boy. The child looked utterly terrified, perhaps afraid that Henry was going to berate him further, was going to strike him with great anger, but Henry quickly bent down so he did not appear so intimidating.
“Here.”
He did not know what had possessed him to give such a great amount of coins to this small child but the look of wonder and then joy on the boy’s face made his heart cry out with happiness. He smiled as the child reached out one grubby hand to tentatively take the bag from him and, with a nod, Henry handed it to him. The boy clasped it to his chest, his eyes now wide with astonishment – astonishment that he had been given such a great and generous gift – and looked back at Henry as though he could not quite contemplate what he had been given.
“On you go, now,” Henry said, rising to his feet. “Take that to your mother and father. I hope it will go some way to help and, if there is anything further that they – or you – need, tell them to come to the Duke’s estate and that I shall aid them in finding work or in repairs to their home. You shall not have to go hungry again.”
The child nodded, a slight sheen coming into his eyes. He whispered a thank you, then turned and began to run away from them all, no doubt going straight home to share with his parents what he had been given.
“You are just as foolish, Fairglen,” his mother snapped, showing not even the smallest amount of respect for Henry nor awareness of the company they were in. “No doubt that boy’s father spends too much time in the tavern rather than looking for work as he ought. You have just given him cause to continue on in such a fashion.”
“Miss Tidemore?” Henry ignored his mother completely, then smiled at his betrothed who was staring back at him with the very same astonishment in her eyes as the small boy had held in his. “Shall we return to the house now?”
She nodded and glanced to her friends, though Lady Eaveswood and Miss Grifford smiled and said they would also return to the house. After a moment, and a glance towards the Duchess, Miss Tidemore stepped forward and took his arm and Henry immediately turned to lead her back towards the carriage.
“I thank you for your kindness towards that boy, Your Grace,” she said softly, though she did not look up at him. “He told me that his father fell from the roof and has yet to recover from his injuries. His mother has a fever also, so that is why there is a lack of food for the family. He says he is afraid that he will have to, one day, go to the orphanage.” A question filled her voice and she glanced up at him. “Is there an orphanage here? Near your estate?”
Henry nodded. “Yes. The vicar and his wife have a very small orphanage here and do the best they can for the children.” He cleared his throat, glancing behind him to where his mother was following after them, her face a mask of anger. “They receive funds from the estate to continue caring for the children.”
