Page 45 of The Marquess Wins a Wife
She pulled a face, scrunching her nose up in distaste at the thought, and her plaits swished over her shoulders as she shook her head dismissively.
“No? Watercolors? Dancing?” Christ, what else did ladies do? “Penmanship?”
As if he were very dull and stupid, she said, quite precisely, “I want to learnGreekandLatin.”
“Girls don’t learn either. They learn French.”
“Ishall learn them,” she said, thrusting her pert little nose into the air, and damned if he didn’t just believe her. “And the French besides.”
Luke threw up his hands. “Very well, then,” he said. “You can have a damned Greek and Latin tutor as well as a governess if you like. But you’ll learn the embroidery as well, and whatever else your governess deigns to teach you. Agreed?” He extended his right hand over the desk, but she hesitated, gnawing on her lower lip.
“I don’t think—I don’t think we have the funds for such things,” she said in a muted tone, though she stared at his hand as if it represented a promise she very much wished to secure for herself. There was a sudden, sharp glitter to her eyes which suggested a barely-contained anger. “And Papa is coming home. We’ll have to hide Georgie’s school funds.”
Lizzie hadn’t told them, Luke realized. About dear Papa. About their forthcoming marriage.Noneof it. “Your father will not present a problem,” he said. “He’s come and gone already.”
Jo took a hesitant step forward, her hands clenching in the worn fabric of her blue dress. That mistrustful look, far too severe for so young a child, fell over her features once more. “But Georgieisgoing to school?”
“Andyou shall have a Greek and Latin tutor, as well as a governess.” Something about that wary expression made him feel rather guilty to have so much, when the Talbots had been forced to scrimp and save for years. “You don’t have to concern yourself with the cost of such things, Jo. I can bear the expense.”
“But you can’t!” Georgie blurted out the words, his cheeks going ruddy. “You can’t—people will talk.”
By the scarlet of his flush, Luke guessed that he’d heard more than enough gossip in his young life to knowexactlywhat sort of things might be said of them. “They might,” Luke allowed. “If there were anything at all improper to say about it. However, I intend to marry your sister in short order, and there’s nothing at all unsavory about a man providing for his wife’s relations.” In fact, it would beexpectedin this particular case—with the children’s father gone, he would be the logical custodian of their welfare.
For a moment, Georgie and Joanna merely exchanged a long glance.
“You’re to marry Lizzie?” Joanna asked, though her flat intonation had conveyed more disbelief than inquiry.
“So I have said.”
“And I’mtrulyto go to Eton?” Georgie asked.
“When the new term begins.”
Joanna took a hesitant step forward. “And I will have a Greek and Latin tutor?”
“Anda governess.” Luke attempted a severe inflection. “If you want the tutor, you must also accept the governess. It’s not negotiable.” How was one meant to deal with children? He’d never been forced to repeat himself quite so many times in his life. Once more he stretched out his hand, hoping this time she’d damn welltakeit and seal the bargain.
Instead Jo gave a queer little sob and dashed at her eyes with her balled fist. And a moment later he found himself shoved unceremoniously back in his chair as both children vied for space upon his lap. A thin, bony elbow jabbed him in the gut even as a small head tucked itself against his shoulder. A pair of arms threatened to strangle him, but there was the muffled sound of tears near his ear. As if on instinct, his arms had closed around the children perched precariously upon his lap, grabbing a handful of Jo’s dress and Georgie’s shirt to keep them from tumbling off onto the floor.
Bewildered, it took Luke a moment to realize he hadn’tupsetthem with his revelation. They were simplyhappy. And despite the discomfiting wetness soaking into his collar—a consequence, he thought, of Joanna’s thankfulness—even this unseemly display of emotion was very nearly…pleasant, in its way.
∞∞∞
“Duck tonight?”
Lizzie paused, one hand wrapped the handle of her knife as she sliced mushroom caps into thin slivers. The heat of the kitchen was already sweltering, and she shoved back a sweat-dampened curl that had plastered itself to her forehead. “Yes,” she said, averting her gaze from where Imogen stood in the doorway. “His lordship has wearied of stews and cottage pie,” she said.
It was a complaint that Imogen had offered often herself, and which Lizzie had borne in solemn silence, for despite her efforts there had simply never been funds for better.
Tentatively, as if uncertain of her welcome, Imogen stepped through the doorway. “Shall I have to call himhis lordshipafter you are married?” she asked, and her shoulders lifted and fell in an awkward shrug as Lizzie looked up once more. “Willie told me,” Imogen said. “His lordship sent him to town to fetch a license. I—” She folded her arms over her chest, drawing down her chin. “I was angry, so I went with him. I might have…tossed his lordship’s coat in a mud puddle.”
“Oh, Imogen,” Lizzie sighed.
“I wasquiteangry,” Imogen reiterated, and a few strides carried her across the room to the counter. “Here, give me that.” She pried the knife from Lizzie’s fingers and shooed her away from the countertop, where she bent her head and began slicing the remaining mushrooms. “Ididpull it out, eventually. And washed it.” A low sigh. “I don’t think I did very well. I didn’t know laundering could be so difficult.”
Of course she hadn’t. She’d never had to do it.
“I think the coat might be ruined,” Imogen said. “Willie said it likely cost more than our yearly expenses.” She blinked rapidly, then squeezed her eyes shut. “I didn’t know things were quite so dire,” she said. “I don’t think Iwantedto know. I only thought—well, I don’t know what I thought. That you were being a stodgy old pinchpenny, I suppose.”
