Page 35 of The Duke's Carriage Window
It was an entirely inappropriate position for them, but it was undeniably comfortable and Meredith had no desire to move. Darius stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles before he closed his eyes. Meredith wondered if perhaps he was already asleep, but then he spoke.
“Mrs. Petersham will be here in an hour for her interview. Suzannah won’t be able to attend, she has a prior engagement.”
Darius stroked her shins with his fingertips. Her skirts were pulled down, covering her body, but she could feel the little caress, sweet and soothing through her petticoats and the dress itself. She should pull away, but she couldn’t muster the will or desire.
Meredith yawned. “Could I rest until she arrives? If I had but a short time, I’m sure I could recover myself.”
“Yes, that’s a splendid idea.” Darius yawned as well. “We’ll just rest… here…”
And that was how Mr. Chelsea found them an hour later, both fast asleep. Meredith came awake at a gentle touch on her shoulder, and she realized she and Darius were still on the couch, her legs in his lap. Her face flamed as she realized how it must look to the butler to see them sleeping like this. In any other situation, it would have ruined her completely to be discovered alone with him like this, their bodies partially entwined, but in the sanctuary of Darius’s home, it was only embarrassing.
Darius stirred. “What time is it?” He groaned as he sat up.
“Half past four, Your Grace,” said Mr. Chelsea. “Mrs. Petersham is waiting in the hall. I thought it wise to give you a few minutes to collect yourselves.” The butler’s head nodded toward Meredith’s legs on Darius’s lap.
“Oh… Oh yes!” Meredith pulled her legs away and stood, rushing to the gilded mirror hanging on one wall to fix her hair and smooth out the wrinkles in her dress. Darius, blast the man, had no need to fix anything about himself. He simply stood and nodded once they were ready.
“Send her in, Chelsea.”
Meredith stood at Darius’s side so they could face her potential chaperone together, a hoard of butterflies taking flight in her stomach. Mr. Chelsea opened the door and announced Mrs. Petersham.
A middle-aged woman with auburn hair and pale blue eyes swept into the room. Her promenade gown was a rich bishop’s blue, covered with a dark gold military-style spencer. She didn’t look at all like what Meredith expected. She looked friendly, even warm, and Meredith developed an instant liking for the woman. She hoped her instincts were true and that this woman would work well as her chaperone.
“Mrs. Petersham.” Darius stepped forward and bowed. “I am Darius St. John, the Duke Tiverton. This is my ward, Miss Meredith Montague.”
Mrs. Petersham gave Meredith a warm smile, and her gaze turned respectfully back to Darius. She did not look matronly, and for that, Meredith was glad.
“Thank you, Your Grace. You may call me Frances if you like.”
“Would you like some tea, Frances?” Meredith asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
Darius showed her to a seat by the tea table. “Thank you for responding to our inquiry.” He waited for Meredith to finish pouring tea, and then sat down.
“Of course. I am most curious to hear about what brings you to need a chaperone.”
Meredith exchanged a glance with Darius, and he nodded at her. So she told Frances the tale of her upbringing, all the way to the events after Uncle Ben’s death.
Frances sipped her tea and listened politely until she had finished. “So marriage is the desire?”
“Yes,” Meredith said.
“To a kind, good and decent man, of course,” Daruis added. “We will be attending the theater, balls and dinners and other social engagements. Would you be willing to accompany us on these outings so that no one can raise concerns about Meredith’s reputation?”
“Of course,” Frances assured him.
“Wonderful. Now, about your salary…” Darius offered Frances an amount that made Meredith’s eyes widen.
“Oh no, that much won’t be necessary. I will insist on taking twenty percent less than that. My husband, Mr. Petersham, left me well off. I don’t wish to waste away of boredom in my widow’s weeds or lose myself in grief. My husband, Daniel, would not have wanted that.” Frances’s gaze softened as she spoke about her late husband.
“I understand,” Darius said. “Would you be able to move in this evening? We shall be dining here with a few of my friends, if you would like to join us.”
“If you could send a coach for my things, I could be back in time for dinner.”
“Mr. Chelsea will arrange that for you,” Darius said. “I shall speak to him now.”
When Darius left them alone, Frances reached out and patted Meredith’s hand.
