Page 15 of The Trouble With Her Duke
Of course, she wouldn’t reveal her “expertise” to her charges. No, she’d keep her cards close to her chest for as long as she could. She smiled, recalling how her brothers had eventually stopped pranking her and had come to respect her when they realized that nothing they threw at her could daunt her. Lydia wondered if that would be the case with the duke’s children as well.
She also wondered if His Grace would even remember her. The duke had not taken part in her interview, leaving the hiring to Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins. Well, she would find out soon enough. In a few short weeks, she would be the new governess to the children of the Duke of Danforth. What a way to start the new year!
Chapter 5
Scotland
Pausing before he opened the door, Damon inhaled. Breaking his fast with his family was his favorite part of the day in Scotland. He could smell the sausage and bacon from his room. His mouth watered as he thought of the tattie scones and thick-sliced, sugared bacon that awaited beyond the door. This was part of what made coming home for the holidays one of his favorite trips. “Good morning, Mother,” Damon said, pushing open the large wooden door to a cavernous room lined with stained-glass windows.
“It’s nice of you to break your fast with us this morning, son,” the older woman said, nodding toward the sideboard.
“You know it’s a highlight of my day, Mother.”
Beatrice Devereaux, the Dowager Duchess of Danforth, folded her copy of the Ton Tattler and laid it down next to her plate. It was her favorite gossip rag, and she routinely had it forwarded to Scotland whenever she visited. “Are you still seeing that horrid Lady Withers? I saw your name mentioned with hers in today’s Tattler.”
“That’s last week’s Ton Tattler, Mother,” he corrected. “Who I see and don’t see doesn’t concern you.” Blast! He knew she would start up her favorite topic—his need to remarry—but he hadn’t figured it would start with first light. He was certain Naomi Withers had leaked something in the scandal rag—again— even though he had ended it months ago, and he hadn’t been with any other woman. “Is that tattie scones I smell?” he asked, hoping to change the subject and divert his ire. He kept thinking he would ask his cook to make them but never remembered to ask until it was too late. Perhaps they were something he only enjoyed in Scotland.
“Oh . . . yes,” she replied. “Cook included your favorite scones among the morning’s selection.”
“Have you seen Mandy and Michael? I checked the nursery before coming down and didn’t see them.” He hoped they hadn’t slipped out to the pond; it was one of their favored mischief sites.
“They haven’t slipped out,” she said, reading his mind. “The bairns are breaking their fast with Mrs. Nimble in the kitchen area. Mandy asked if Cook could teach her to make shortbread, and Mrs. Nimble thought they could do it right after breakfast,” his mother replied dismissively. Visibly irritated that he would not discuss her favorite subject—marriage—she reopened the Ton Tattler and picked up her reading where she had left off.
“Very good,” he said, relieved to hear it. Walking to the sideboard, Damon helped himself to bacon, eggs, tattie scones, and tomatoes before taking a seat to the left of his mother. “I haven’t missed Gavin, Hargus, and Eloise, have I?” His cousin, Hargus, had become the Earl of Bothwell several years earlier upon the death of his father. His younger brother, Gavin, and his wife, Colleen, usually traveled to Scotland with him. But this year, Gavin had traveled from Essex, where they had been visiting with his wife’s family. His sister Eloise had been staying with his mother—which he was sure would change, since it would soon be time for her to come out.
“Your cousin and brother should be down in a few minutes, I’m sure. Hargus and Elsa took an early morning walk, something Elsa likes to do before breaking her fast. Gavin and Colleen are probably checking on the wee bairn before coming down to break their fast,” his mother said.
“I haven’t seen the baby in a month,” Damon said, taking a sip of his hot tea to wash down the scone. “I appreciate you getting Mrs. Nimble on such short notice, Mother.”
She lowered the paper and smiled. “Pish! When your cousin Hargus and Elsa had their wee one, I reached out to Mrs. Nimble, who wanted to step out of retirement. She’s been with Gavin and Colleen for six months now. I would have returned your note, but figured by the time word reached you, you would be here. She loves having three children. I know things are well in hand with her.” She sipped her tea. “What do you plan to do? This was number six, correct?”
“It was.” He gave a tentative smile. “I was unaware Mrs. Nimble had taken the position with Gavin. I suppose I’ve been preoccupied with other things. It’s nice to hear she is once again guiding Devereaux’s children.”
“I can understand that. You’ve replaced two . . .is it . . . governesses in the last six months?” his mother prompted.
The door opened, and Hargus and Gavin entered with their wives and Damon’s sister trailing behind them, laughing.
“Aye! Damon, ye must tell us about the latest governess exodus,” Hargus teased. “I heard Ma mention it as we entered.”
“Yes! My darling Mandy and Michael cannot possibly be responsible for this unprecedented turnover. Be honest . . . what have you done to them, big brother?” Eloise said with a grin.
“Wait! Let me sit down for this,” Gavin said, ladling eggs and bacon onto his plate. His brother pulled out a chair across from Damon and sat down. “I’ll bet frogs are involved!”
“I’m not sure my stomach is up for discussing such things,” Colleen added.
“There has to be a reason the children are doing this,” his mother said. “They are not devilish children.”
“According to Mrs. Tartan, they are spawns of the devil,” Damon said with a smile. “They objected to some of her criticisms. They had wandered to the pond and found a bullfrog.”
“Oh, no! Tell me they didn’t!” His mother exclaimed, unable to hide a shudder.
“When Mrs. Tartan called them, they stuffed the bullfrog in their pockets. And decided not to leave his family behind. I tell you, it was hard to keep a straight face.”
“Don’t leave us hanging, brother,” Gavin said.
Damon set down his fork and leaned back. “They stuffed the frogs in her closet—in her shoes, everywhere. My footmen were still finding frogs in the nursery when we left. The frog had to . . . you know . . . use the pond. Without one available, he used her shoe. She brought her shoe dripping in poo to the nursery, furious.”
Eloise started laughing. “Seems the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I recall you hiding a frog or two in the house.”
