Page 28 of The Duke's Impetuous Darling
"My right leg is not," he said trying to make light of his incapacity, "but I will take that in lieu of any other injury."
"And you are aided by your cane, which is good."
"I cannot march. In fact, I walk oddly. One of my men called it dot-and-go-one. Rather silly, but again, I take it." He took a bite of his beef in mushroom sauce and silence prevailed for an awkward moment. "When I heard from a friend Griff was coming home for Christmas, I asked if I might invite myself."
She met his intent grey gaze, worried that his presence would mar Delphine's happiness in this house party. "You are most welcome here."
"I hope so." He cast a dark glance down the table to where Del sat studying him. "My wife died last year, Miss Craymore. I mean to court your sister, if she'll have me."
"Well, my lord," Bee said and breathed in relief, "I wish you well."
"You see, I return to France in three weeks, resign my post with Wellington and sell my commission."
Bee tried not to be intrusive, but curiosity drove her. "To return home to your estate?"
"No. Although that does need my attentions. I have letters from the reinstated Bourbon king that I've inherited from my distant cousin a sizable estate along the Loire. All the heirs were killed in the Terror and I am to be the Comte de Valerie. I'm shocked, of course."
So was she. She put down her fork and knife. "What does one do to claim an old title and estate? Weren't all titles abolished under the Republic and Napoleon?"
As she learned about French aristocratic rights under the restored monarchy of Louis the Eighteenth, her attention swayed time and again to the man across from her who sat next to Eliza Kent. That lady made another play for the new duke of Kingston. And so once more, Bee's jealousy blossomed. Evil flower that it was.
By the time for the after-dinner charades, Bee fanned herself with fury to cool her ire.
Aunt Gertrude declared that all partners would depict a famous couple, real or fictitious from history. Marjorie had disappeared, most likely to the card room with two elderly gentlemen. Within the hour, she returned, looking pleased with herself which meant she’d won a considerable pot. But she joined in the charades with Griff calling her forward to draw lots to see who chose first, men or women. Griff drew the longer straw.
The men drew for partners first and Griff picked Bee's name from the bowl. He decreed he'd be Napoleon, she Josephine. He strutted around like a chicken to applause and the guests proclaimed his identity immediately. She pretended to be demure with a smile that showed no teeth, for poor Josephine had loved sweets to the point that her little teeth turned black.
"This was too simple," she declared when the guests knew them immediately.
The next round saw the ladies draw for the men. This time, Bee picked Alastair's name from the bowl. This time, the lady could declare who or what they were to portray.
"Come to the hall and we'll not risk others overhearing us," he said and stood aside to let her precede him.
"What is your pleasure?" he asked, with a more pleasant tone than he'd had this afternoon.
I want you to smile at me."Pyramus and Thisbe."
"Dear god, that's morbid. I'll not do it. Choose another."
She mashed her lips together. "Robin Hood and Maid Marian."
"Agreed. I shall go about pretending to knock my arrow and shoot animals."
"Don't you think that's rather obvious?"
"Griff wasn't exactly a genius at his portrayal of Bonaparte."
She wanted to stomp her foot at him. "Well, I can't help it if he chose poorly."
He grumbled. "What will you do for Marian?"
Oh, well, that was a good question. "Admonish other merry men, then!"
"By doing what? Shaking a finger at them?"
"If we confound the others, that's a good act."
"And we win. Wonderful. So it is." He grabbed her hand. "Come on."
