Page 8 of The Trouble With Her Duke
Carlton laughed. “That’s number what . . . six?”
“In two years. Try not to rub it in. The children were so sweet and biddable while their nurse, Mrs. Nimble, was caring for them. But their attitude changed as soon as I hired my first governess.” He shook his head.
“Because they are growing up. You know how we were at that age,” his friend supplied.
“Yes. I suppose you are right.” He had known Carlton Coleman, the Duke of Richmond since they were both in leading strings. Their mothers had been close friends and remained so. As the second son, Carlton had never thought of inheriting a dukedom, and would still prefer he had not. His brother had died unexpectedly in a riding accident, making Carlton the duke. With his additional responsibilities, Carlton had hired a manager to take over the club’s operations; even so, he rarely stayed away—and when Damon was in town, he enjoyed its amenities, too. The club featured leisure rooms of the kind exemplified by the clubs in London, like Whites and Boodles, along with a gym on the backside of the building for those wishing to practice their pugilistic talents.
The gym drew Damon today. He craved the exertion it promised.
“Aren’t you leaving for Scotland?” Carlton asked.
“Tomorrow morning. I inadvertently picked up an errand on my way here today. And if you are game, we can go a few rounds.”
“Happy to oblige. I left before I broke my fast and had a light repast when I arrived. As soon as I’ve given myself time to digest it, we can head to the gym—although you look like you’re pretty fired up about this governess’ departure. Not sure I want to be on the receiving end of that level of irritation.”
Damon laughed. “Funny! I’m not upset about that—except for the narrowing pool of candidates.”
“Then what is it? Does it have anything to do with the errand you mentioned?” Carlton asked with a smirk.
Damon observed his friend. “How did you know? Really—how did you know?”
Carlton accepted a glass of water from George as he approached their table. “I’ll need this if I’m going rounds in the ring with you,” he said with a grin.
Damon continued to regard his friend in silence.
“Fine! I saw you from the window of my office. It looked like something had upset her; the two of you were having what appeared to be an animated discussion.”
“Yes. A Miss Lydia Hammond—whom I’ve never met—ran into my carriage door as I opened it and dropped an heirloom watch she had been holding. It fell in the snow, and when I stepped out to assist her, she blamed me for the entire incident, when she hadn’t bothered to observe that my carriage was there. To make matters worse, I stepped on her timepiece,” he said, pulling it from his pocket.
“Ouch! Did you convince her of her culpability in the entire fiasco?” Carlton said with his lips twitching.
“You know I didn’t. But just as my aggravation was peaking, she apologized and accepted the blame—minutes after blaming me for everything,” Damon lamented. He turned the damaged timepiece over in his hand. “It was from her grandfather. I stepped on it and crushed the crystal.”
“Which left you flummoxed,” Carlton offered.
“Yes. It did. How did you know?” Damon asked.
“I’ve known you forever. If I didn’t know you so well, it would be hard to know when I shouldn’t go into the ring with you.” Carlton looked at his friend. “But this is more than breaking a watch crystal.” He examined the inscription and handed the watch back to Damon. “Miss Lydia Hammond is a beautiful woman.”
“You know her? I’d never met her before, but cannot imagine how I’ve missed her,” Damon admitted.
“She’s not part of the ton—and you were already betrothed. I’m not surprised your paths never crossed.”
“You know that social status has never mattered to me. She gave me every reason not to like her. Yet, I cannot get her off my mind. There hasn’t been a woman since Aimee, and I’m afraid I wasn’t prepared to meet her today . . . and didn’t carry that off well.” Damon ran his hands through his hair. “Tell me what you know of her.”
“We both know her oldest brother, Blake. The Hammond Emporium supplies our estates with necessary provisions. Blake and his brothers are pushing her to do her part in expanding the business. They want her to marry within the trade community to expand their business into shipping. So far, she has deftly avoided marriage, and her father refuses to pressure her. He allows her independence—which she values above all else. Currently, she works as a companion.”
Damon listened carefully. “You know quite a lot about her. Are you interested in her?”
Carlton arched a brow. “If I were interested in wooing a wife, I might be, but you know more than anyone, I have my hands full with running my estates. There’s no room right now to add husband and father—at least not for a while. For now, I will live vicariously through you—and enjoy being ‘uncle’ to those beautiful children of yours. Now tell me what happened with this latest governess.”
“The upshot is: the twins captured a bullfrog and its family and relocated them inside her wardrobe. She woke up to shoes covered in frog muck. I have a footman assigned to moving the frog’s family back to the pond,” Damon explained. “I do not know where the Jenkinses will find candidates for a governess. The well is drying up.”
Carlton sipped his brandy. “Bullfrog excrement in her shoe? That must have been a sight!” He leaned back in the leather chair and howled.
“For sure it was,” Damon said, enjoying the hilarity. “It was hard not to laugh. I kept biting my tongue while I listened.” He filled Carlton in on the other incidents the woman had outlined in her resignation letter. “I sent word to Mother that the governess had departed, hoping she would find coverage for the holiday. As a last resort, she may get their old nanny to help—Mrs. Nimble.”
“I recall her. She lived on the estate for a while after you moved the twins to a governess.”
