Page 1 of Tutoring a Lady into Sin
Chapter 1
Henchingbock Manor
June 1813
“I simply cannot account for his absence,” the Dowager Duchess of Bixby said loftily as she lifted her chin and glanced longingly out the window. “Percival gave me his word that he would be here today.”
“Hmmm…” Auntie Mary-Anne, the Dowager Viscountess of Henchingbock, murmured. “Perhaps His Grace ran into some trouble along the roadway.”
“He is an excellent horseman,” the dowager duchess said proudly. “I am sure he is perfectly fine, but mayhap we should wait a few minutes more, for he is certain to be here very soon.”
“Did he ride then? I suppose I assumed he was coming in a carriage,” Auntie Mary-Anne replied as her eyebrow lifted wryly. “I rather thought he might be eager to take my niece for a short jaunt about the countryside. But if he is only coming on horseback….”
“Percival meant to bring his carriage, but since I was already coming in one, it seemed frivolous to bring both,” the dowager duchess replied sharply.
“I wonder why you travelled separately at all,” Auntie Mary-Anne said in an equally peeved tone of voice. “Seeing as you were both coming here this morning, would it not have been more prudent to make the journey together?”
The dowager duchess huffed as she put her cup of tea on the small table at her side. She smoothed down the folds of her elegant, mauve-coloured day dress, and whispered delicately, “Percival is his own man, Mary-Anne. I raised my sons to value their independence, and therefore, I have no more power over them than a mother ought to.”
“When Percival declared he wished to go for a long ride this afternoon, I certainly could not stand in his way. We shall just have to content ourselves with each other’s company while we wait for him to arrive.”
“But, of course, Isabella,” Auntie Mary-Anne replied respectfully. “We are at the duke’s disposal.”
Christianna lifted her cup of tea and took a dainty sip, careful not to slurp. Her eyes floated between her aunt and the dowager duchess. The two professed to be the greatest of friends, but on this occasion, there was some stiltedness to their manners.
Auntie Mary-Anne thinks it is abominably rude for the Duke of Bixby to keep us waiting, and I cannot pretend that I blame her.
Percival Radcliff, the Duke of Bixby, was scheduled to arrive at Henchingbock Manor nearly an hour ago. While it was true, he might have run into a spot of trouble while riding down the narrow dirt pathway that led to the house. He should have been here ages ago…that is, if he left when he assured his mother he would. Christianna had an inkling that the duke was not as good as his word.
“I understand that you enjoy playing on the pianoforte, Lady Christianna,” the dowager duchess remarked in an obvious attempt to change the subject.
Christianna stared for a long moment at their guest. The dowager was a very beautiful woman, with her silvery hair pulled into a fashionable cluster of curls and her green eyes flashing. She sat stiffly, conveying her discomfort, yet she was not the sort of woman to complain.
Rather, she was taking this opportunity to get to know Christianna better. And that, too, was admirable. For even though Christianna understood that the dowager duchess knew quite well, she was a very good pianist, that did not stop her from making polite conversation.
“I do, Your Grace,” Christianna said in her softest voice.
“I understand your parents spared no expense when it came to educating you,” the dowager duchess continued. “My friend, Mary-Anne, once told me that they were quite indulgent.”
“My mother and father were the very best of parents, Your Grace,” Christianna replied simply. “I am sorry that you did not have the chance to know them better.” A vivid recollection of Christianna’s dear parents, the Earl and Countess of Whitmore, filled her mind’s eye. They were always such loving and doting people, truly providing for Christianna in every possible way.
But alas, nearly eighteen months ago, they had perished at sea. Christianna could not think of their passing without experiencing sharp pangs of grief, so it was incumbent upon her now to steer the subject in another direction. “Does His Grace enjoy listening to music, ma’am?”
“Percival has very eclectic tastes, my dear,” the dowager duchess explained carefully. “He is a singularly gifted athlete, as I am sure you already know.”
“I have heard of his adventurous spirit,” Christianna agreed respectfully. In truth, since she had made her debut in London Society, she’d heard a great deal about the Duke of Bixby. And while some of the whispers pertained to his athletic abilities, a great many more of the rumours had to do with his personal affairs.
The dowager tittered as she reached for her teacup once more. “Adventurous spirit.I do like that description, Lady Christianna. Yes, indeed.” She sipped slowly then, as she lowered her teacup, she gave Auntie Mary-Anne an approving nod.
“Everything you said about your niece is true, dear Mary-Anne. Not only is she lovely, but I do find her manners charming. She will make Percival a fine bride, and God-willing, she will bring him round to become the best version of himself.”
Ah…now we come to the crux of it.
Christianna had only ever shared one dance with the Duke of Bixby, and upon first being introduced to him, she had been taken in by his dashing good looks and charismatic smile. She had expressed an interest in seeing him again, and her auntie had acted upon the matter quickly.
Before Christianna could comprehend what was truly happening, her auntie had arranged for this meeting. A betrothal was made, and now all that remained was for the duke himself to arrive and propose to Christianna in a proper, gentlemanly manner.
And yet…the duke is not here. Perhaps that means he does not wish to marry me.
