Page 10 of A Duke for Diana
“She won’t be the person paying you.” The chit actually winced at his mention of payment. “Besides, I fear Mother is no more knowledgeable about débuts than I am. She was born into a long line of ironmasters and was raised in a household of men. None of them knew a damned thing about débuts and women’s fashion.”
His curse made her frown. “I see. So you’ve come to us to make sure your sister has a successful début.”
“Yes. But before we start discussing that, I need to tell you a few things about Rosy.”
A ghost of a smile crossed her pretty lips. “You already claimed she’s shy.”
“She is, despite her surprisingly forthright remarks about the silly gossip high society feeds on.”
“Onlyhigh society?” she said archly. “You do realize that gossip exists in every village, town, and city in England and probably the world. Are you claiming that the ironmasters of Newcastle never gossip?”
He could hardly claim that, given the gossip that had been going around town ever since his father’s death. The worst was that he’d killed Father to get his hands on the dukedom, which was ludicrous. For one thing, the dukedom cameafterFather’s death, and he’d had no idea he might inherit such a thing. For another, Geoffrey would give the dukedom back if that were possible. But if the powers-that-be insisted on naming him duke, he figured he might as well have whatever went with the blasted title, which wasn’t as much as people probably thought.
“I’m not saying they never gossip,” he said. “But they are too busy putting food on their families’ tables to do much of that. It isn’t worked into the very fabric of their world as it is in London.”
“I see. So these are highly principled ironmasters.” She wrote something in her notebook.
He leaned forward. “What are you writing in there?”
“Whatever I must to help me make sense of your family’s peculiar situation, so I can do what I can for your sister. Also, I made a note to remind me and my sisters to call her Lady Rosabel.”
“Why? I’m the one who inherited the damned title.”
That prompted more scribbling in her notebook. He could only imagine what it said, probably something like,Make His Grace stop cursing.Which only made him want to curse all the more.
When she lifted her gaze to him again, her lips were drawn into a tight, prissy line. “The rules of address for titles have their idiosyncrasies, and one is that when a man inherits a title, his siblings inherit whatever form of address they would have had if their father had lived to take the title himself. That’s assuming you have gone through the process to obtain a warrant. If you have not, then we should set about doing that at once.”
“I have not. And if you think it will help Rosy’s chances, then by all means do so. Does that make Mother a dowager duchess, then?”
“The rules don’t extend to your mother, because she married into the family. Just your sister. So your mother is still Mrs. Brookhouse, but your sister is now Lady Rosabel Brookhouse.”
“That makes no sense.”
“The rules aren’t designed for the sort of unusual circumstances your family finds itself in. In such a case, they are bound to seem nonsensical.”
“Nonsensical sums it up, to be sure.” He checked his watch and noted that they’d been there three-quarters of an hour already. He rose to pace again.
“I’ll make this quick, because you seem impatient to get it over with.”
“How could you tell?” he said sarcastically. “I could have designed a bridge in the time I’ve spent here.”
“A whole bridge?” She matched him sarcasm for sarcasm. “Either you are a very accomplished engineer or you waited for me far longer than I realized. I couldn’t have designed a single gown in that time.”
The tart words surprised him. She certainly had more backbone than any society woman he’d ever met. “I . . . may have exaggerated a bit.”
“Imagine that—a man exaggerating. I’ve never seen that before.” She pointed her pencil at him. “Look here, if you’re sincere about wanting our help, we have to be sure what you need, which you don’t seem able to tell me.”
She licked the tip of her pencil, and he stifled a groan. While she wrote something in her notebook, he gazed at her lovely mouth, wondering what it would be like to kiss those full, seductive lips.
When she spoke again, it took him a moment to register what she was saying. “So perhaps I should tell you everything we do to ensure that a young lady has the best possible début. Then you can pick and choose which things you’d like us to do for her.”
“Very well.”
“Perhaps you’d prefer to sit while I go over everything?”
“I’d prefer to stand. I get restless when I sit. Especially on that flimsy piece of furniture.” He gestured to the settee.
“You roaming around is makingmerestless,” she bit out. “And don’t let that Sheraton settee’s looks deceive you. It is built sturdily enough to outlast even a robust fellow like you.”
