Page 108 of When a Duke Loves a Woman
Gillie did wish she hadn’t brought up that embarrassing episode. “I wasn’t planning to make it a habit.”
“I’ve no doubt Dearwood deserved it. I’ve never much cared for the man. In his youth, he was not a good influence over Antony. I wished countless times he’d find other company and told him so. Of course, the more I insisted, the more attached he became to Dearwood.”
She’d never heard anyone refer to Thorne by his first name, but there was something profound and deep within the word when the duchess said it. “You love him.”
“Dearwood? Good God, no. Don’t be absurd.”
“Your son.”
The duchess angled her chin haughtily. “Naturally. I realize I have a rather acerbic manner, but I was taught from an early age that one does not show one’s feelings. It doesn’t mean they’re not there.”
Gillie could see that now. They were all trying to protect themselves from hurt, and in so doing they’d walled themselves up. Perhaps she would become a duchess who could teach them not to be so cold. She couldn’t imagine inviting ladies over for tea but a bit of sherry might be in order.
“So will it be St. George’s?” the duchess asked.
Gillie took a deep breath. In for a penny, in for a pound. “If Thorne is in agreement.”
“Very good. And we shall have the most exquisite gown made—”
“Your Grace, I don’t know what all Thorne has told you, but we’re in a bit of a rush.”
“My girl, I am a duchess. We shall have a hundred seamstresses at work. It will be done in the blink of an eye. And then—my word, what is that?”
Gillie looked over her shoulder to where the duchess was peering. Robin was crouched beneath a table. She’d been so focused on the duchess that she hadn’t seen him slip out of the kitchen and into the taproom. “Robin, what are you doing?”
“I wanted to see the posh lady.” He crept out from his hiding place and slowly approached until he was standing before Thorne’s mother. “Are you a fairy?”
No doubt to him, with the sparkling jewelry draped around her neck and wrists, her elaborate dress of velvet and satin, her enormous beribboned hat, she did appear to be a rather magical being.
“Don’t be absurd,” the duchess snapped.
Gillie was on the verge of chastising her, but before she could Robin said, “When I grow up, I’m goin’ to be an explorer and find another quagga.”
“Oh, dear boy, by the time you are old enough to go off exploring, there will be no more quaggas at all. You must not waste your time searching for one. You must face reality and ensure no other creature goes the way of him.” She leaned forward earnestly. “You must become a member of Parliament where you can express your opinions, make people listen to you.”
“What’s Parliament?”
“Oh, my goodness.” She looked at Gillie. “Is he an orphan?”
“He is.”
“Why is he not in a home for wayward children?”
“He likes living here.”
“That will not do at all. I shall have to take him in hand.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“With your additional duties, you won’t have time to see to him. I shall see to him.”
“I gots to protect this place,” Robin piped up.
“And are you paid for this duty?” the duchess asked.
“A shilling a week.”
“I shall pay you two shillings a week as I reside in a house much larger than this. You can live there and protect it.”
