Page 3 of Tutoring a Lady into Sin
“Nonsense,” the dowager duchess trilled. “This is going to be the event of the summer. We must make the most of this occasion and take every opportunity to enjoy ourselves while mingling with the most prestigious members of theton.”
She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “And it will not hurt to strengthen our friendships with our acquaintances. Any chance we get to make a good impression on the ladies and gentlemen of theton, we ought to seize it. Do you not agree?”
Auntie Mary-Anne nodded at once, but Christianna felt a little reluctant.
So, our wedding is to be a spectacle. We are to invite everyone because the dowager duchess wishes for one and all to see that someone is finally taming the roguish duke.
Just as Percival’s rakish ways were fodder for the gossip columnists, he was also widely reputed to be an untrustworthy business partner. It seemed Christianna was not the only person he kept waiting, and it was in keeping with his nature to cancel appointments at the last moment.
But Christianna understood all these flaws quite well. She was going to be wed to a handsome and powerful man, and in return, she was to calm him, to squash his wanton ways, and turn him into the great man he was supposed to be.
I do hope I am able to accomplish this colossal task that has been set before me.
“You are quite right,” Christianna said at length. “I am glad to have the chance to go to Bixby Hall, and I very much appreciate your willingness to walk me through the paces.”
“Think nothing of it, darling,” the dowager duchess replied as her smile broadened. “I am looking forward to welcoming you into our family.”
“She is a treasure,” Auntie Mary-Anne added. “I do think Christianna will adjust quickly to her new surroundings, and I think, in time, she and His Grace will make a lovely couple.”
Christianna smiled sweetly at the two women who were beaming back at her. She knew she ought to echo the sentiment, to profess her eagerness at seeing Percival again, but the words would not coalesce. She would go to Bixby Hall and learn from the dowager duchess, but she was not sure what to make of His Grace.
“I shall try to be a pleasing wife,” she whispered aloud her dearest wish and prayed that as she uttered those words, someone, somewhere, would hear her and take mercy on her. For despite everything, what Christianna wanted most was to be a good, faithful wife to her husband.
She wished for her fiancé to be happy with her, just as she cherished the idea of being delighted by him. And even though he was currently detained by more pressing matters, Christianna wished fervently that before the wedding, she might make a connection with her future husband and see him smile lovingly at her.
Chapter 2
Radcliff Lodge, London
July 1813
“I never took you for the sort of chap who was a poor correspondent,” Uncle Felton said as he breezed into the study. Phineas was sitting in his armchair, just behind the massive mahogany desk that filled the centre of the room, reading through his files on the latest patient he had attended.
“What?” Phineas asked as he looked up from his paperwork. Uncle Felton stood in the doorway, holding a slim envelope aloft. He was a tall man and carried himself with the relaxed and carefree attitude belonging to a much younger person.
He leaned against the doorframe, before crossing one leg laconically over the other. Uncle Felton’s reddish-brown hair was combed into a stylish wave, and because it was a little long at present, he had tied it back using a stiff black ribbon. A smile danced on his lips.
“Do you never read your post, dear boy?” he asked as he strode into the room and dropped the missive on top of the file Phineas had been perusing.
“Ha,” Phineas snorted. “As you know, I read my mail most diligently and respond to letters as quickly as possible.”
“Then why did I find this one sitting on the table in the hall?” Uncle Felton questioned as his heavy eyebrows quirked in an amused way.
Phineas picked up the envelope and flipped it over, revealing the wax ring that had been sealed by someone from Bixby Hall. “I cannot abide wasting my time by reading about another of my brother’s exploits.” He picked up the letter and held it out to Uncle Felton.
“Either this is from Percy himself, telling me about the horribly wonderful time he had in town last week, or it is from Mama, lamenting the fact that Percival has once again run wild.” He grunted before adding snidely, “Should I wish to read such drivel, I would pick up the scandal sheets and have a field day.”
Uncle Felton tutted as he shook his head and staunchly refused to take the letter back into his possession. “You do your brother and mama a disservice by ignoring this letter, my boy.”
“But you know what they are like,” Phineas protested. “So consumed by their own affairs that they never have time for anyone else.”
Uncle Felton raised his eyebrow sardonically and murmured, “Now, why does that description sound an awful lot like someone else I know?”
Phineas chuckled as he dropped the letter back onto his desk. “You mean to lump me in with my repugnant relations?”
The older gentleman shrugged indifferently. “At present, they have written to you, andyouare the one ignoring them in favour of your own pursuits.” He eyed the letter on the desk. “Come, Phineas, are you not the least bit curious as to what is written within that missive?”
Phineas stood and walked away from his desk. “I have allowed it to sit in the hall for more than two weeks already. Had it contained pressing matters, I would have likely received a second bit of post by now.”
