Page 52 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
“I am certain,” Nicholas assured him. He could not imagine what his father would say if he was to miss the first day of the hunt on account of a foul dream.
“Say nothing to His Grace,” Nicholas instructed and Theodore nodded.
“As you wish, my lord.”
Theodore continued his morning duties in the marquess’ apartment before departing and leaving Nicholas to dress which he did with great effort.
Perhaps I did indulge a wee bit much last night,he thought.I must learn that those men have many more years on me.
He adjusted his sporting gear, pausing to examine his breeches and puffed shirt critically.
I cannot permit father to see me as anything less than fetching for the upcoming days.
Once more, the image of his father disintegrating into a pile of ash flashed into his mind and a shudder of revulsion coursed through his body. He could not be bothered with silly dreams for the moment. The men waited on him and he would not be tardy that morn.
He had wished to speak with Rose before leaving but he dared not for several reasons. His father had already displayed his displeasure over what had happened in the aftermath of her fainting spell although Nicholas had yet to hear of it directly.
One week,he reminded himself.In one week, there will be no watchful, scornful glances, no chauvinistic naval captains nor hunting trips to account for. It will be a trying week, indeed, but it is merely a week.
Nicholas very nearly knocked down Theodore as he exited his chambers.
“Ah, you are ready, my lord,” the butler commented. “Very good.”
I have impressed Theodore with my punctuality. Perhaps there is hope for this marquess after all,Nicholas thought wryly, joining the men in the formal dining hall for breakfast. To his surprise, only the duke was seated in at the extended table, sipping on Bohea, his eyes scanning an old copy of the Oxford Gazette.
“Good morrow, Your Grace,” he offered brightly. “I trust you slept well.”
The duke slipped the paper down onto the table, his green eyes twinkling at the sight of his son.
“I wager better than you,” he chuckled. “William Cromley and that blasted colonies moonshine. It is a wonder we have not all perished in our sleep.”
“Indeed,” Nicholas agreed, slipping into his seat at the opposite end of the table. “I imagine the rest are still asleep then?”
“Oh, good heavens, yes,” the duke laughed. “You do not recall our last hunting trip, but I fear we got very little done in the way of bagging stags.”
Nicholas smiled and accepted his tea from Trudy.
“Where is mother?”
“She has gone into the towns for the day. She claims we gave her a terrible ache of the head with…how did she put it? Ah yes, all of our caterwauling about women and ponies.”
Nicholas swallowed a bemused grin as he recalled the silliness of the conversation they had shared the previous night. He hoped that Rose and the children had not heard. It was not one of his finer moments.
“It is fortunate that I have this opportunity to speak with you, Nicholas,” the duke continued and Nicholas felt his shoulders tense.
I knew he would find a moment to reprimand me for what happened,he thought, gritting his teeth. He was determined to accept his father’s lecture with grace until one of the other men rescued him from his punishment.
“Captain Balfour,” Duke Buford commenced. “He is quite a character, is he not?”
Nicholas’ eyes narrowed, sensing a trap.
“Highly regarded in the Royal Navy, well decorated also.”
“Is he? I hadn’t given it much thought,” Nicholas replied glibly. The duke’s expression tightened.
“He is an important man, Nicholas, just as all the men I have invited here are important in their own right.”
“I understand, father,” he replied, unsure of how else to respond. Of course, he was aware of all that the duke explained. He simply did not know why the duke felt the need to tell him again.
