Page 5 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
“Forgive me cutting our day short, Nicholas. I have several matters to attend prior to the soiree this evening.”
“Nonsense, father. East Anglian matters prevail.”
The duke did not reply. Only the sound of hooves crunching against the dry forest bed could be heard.
“You will attend tonight, will you not?”
The question was strange and Nicholas raised his head to look at his father.
“Of course,” he replied, his brow furrowing in confusion. “When have I ever missed an event?”
“Never. You are as reliable as my pocket watch,” the duke agreed quickly but Nicholas could not dismiss the thought that his father’s inquiry was laced with something underlying.
“Is there something I must know about this evening?”
Another small silence ensued. Nicholas sensed that his father was collecting the words before speaking. Patiently, he waited, knowing he could not pry the answer from the older Frampton’s mouth.
Why do I suspect I know what he is scheming?
“There shall be a number of ladies in attendance,” Duke Buford offered tentatively. “Ones you may not have seen in many years.”
Blimey,Nicholas thought, biting on the insides of his cheeks to keep from grinning.Father has taken on the role of matchmaker in mother’s place.
“Is that so?”
Apparently encouraged by his son’s response, the duke continued with more conviction.
“Indeed. Comely ladies of title and charm.”
“Should I assume you would like me to entertain the idea of wedding one of said ladies?”
“I said no such thing!” the duke snapped but even from where Nicholas sat, he saw his father’s ears tinged pink with embarrassment.
“Oh? Then what are you saying, father?”
The duke grumbled something incoherent under his breath, but Nicholas could not help laughing aloud when he heard his mother’s name escape his father’s lips.
“I merely jest, father,” he interjected before the duke could further work himself into a sulk. “I am pleased to meet with any of the fine ladies whom you present.”
His father turned to stare at him suspiciously.
“You have decided to marry?” he asked curiously, his eyes narrowing slightly as if sensing a trap.
“I am not courting anyone, father,” Nicholas reminded him softly and the duke’s back seemed to tense as he watched.
“However,” the younger man added quickly, detecting a lecture. “As I have said many times, I am not opposed to marriage when I find my true love.”
He watched as the duke’s shoulders visibly lowered in relief.
“That is all we ask of you,” his father replied gruffly. “Your mother and I know precisely what perils arise from a loveless union. We would never infringe such a cold future upon you. Your happiness will reflect in the way you run Buford and Rosecliff. That joy begins in a home filled with affection, not bitterness. There are those who claim that its benefits reflect in childbearing also.”
Nicholas thought he heard a note of wistfulness in his father’s voice.
“Yet you wish I would find love at a more rapid pace,” Nicholas finished, an uneasy smile twisting upon his mouth.
“Nicholas, you are the most eligible bachelor in East Anglia. You have no shortage of ladies-in-waiting deigning for your affections and attention. While we would never force marriage upon you, we cannot help but wonder what is it that keeps you from finding love?”
The duke did not wait for a response, urging his burnt coat thoroughbred forward with a dig of his heels. Nicholas allowed his father ahead.
