Charming the Duke (21 page)

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Authors: Holly Bush

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Victorian, #Regency, #Romantic Comedy, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Charming the Duke
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“Oh. It’s you,” Mrs. Brewer said when she’d opened the door. “Come in, I suppose.”

“Is Miss Sheldon available?”

“Thornsby,” Matilda said from the hallway. “Do come in.”

He stepped around Mrs. Brewer. Matilda’s hair was wrapped up in a scarf that she was straightening and shoving stray tendrils back under. She had a typical brown dress on with a white apron over top, streaked with dust and dirt. Her cheeks were rosy, and she smiled shyly. He thought she was the most attractive that he’d ever seen her.

“Miss Sheldon,” he said and bowed. “I was hoping you’d be available for a stroll. But if you are too busy, then perhaps I should come back later.”

“No, no,” she said. “Give me a moment.”

Mrs. Brewer looked him up and down as Matilda went up the steps.

“I’ll wait here, Mrs. Brewer,” he said.

She turned and headed down the hallway. “I suppose you will, Your Grace.”

Matilda joined him a few minutes later with a bonnet replacing the scarf and the apron nowhere to be seen. They walked in silence for some distance. It was not uncomfortable, though, as if each was searching for something to say.

“I find I owe you an apology. One I should have given you the night of the Benford Ball.”

“But you did apologize that night, Thornsby, even though there was nothing you could do about Miss Marsh’s behavior. You were not at fault.”

“You are correct in that I apologized for Millicent’s behavior that evening. What I did not apologize for was my behavior. I knew very well how hateful Millicent could be, yet I invited you to a ball where she would undoubtedly be looking to attract pity from the
ton
for what she would describe as my ruthless treatment of her. And the episode was still fresh in her mind. I should have never put you in a position to be in Millicent’s line of fire.”

Matilda looked up at him from under the rim of her bonnet. “I will admit the scene was terribly uncomfortable, even for someone like me who cares little for society’s opinion. Apology accepted, and let us change the subject. How are Alice and Jonah?”

“Very well. Jonah has not had a nightmare for weeks, and Alice is content to sit beside me while I do estate business. She adds up every column of sums. I’m going to have to very soon hire a governess to teach them. How are things at the orphanage?” he asked.

“Coming along. Finally. I believe I’ve found a house mother, a Miss Pinkey, to manage things on a daily basis. I did not include her salary, however, in my original estimates. Ethel’s man of business says I need to raise more money to cover Miss Pinkey’s salary and have some stored away in case of an emergency. I’ve got to come up with a plan to do that,” Matilda said.

“Perhaps you should speak to my sister. She has been closely involved with charities in the past and done some planning of that sort, I believe,” he said.

Matilda looked up quickly. “Do you think she would? That would be wonderful to have someone with some experience in this. I tend to walk up to people I know and say ‘My orphanage needs money. What can you give me?’ Mrs. Smithly undoubtedly would do better.”

Thornsby laughed. “Athena is quite skilled at squeezing the last farthing out of someone for a cause she is passionate about.”

Matilda smiled brilliantly. “This is wonderful news. Thank you.”

He smiled back and felt his heart race. They arrived at a bakery with some small tables, he seated Matilda and fetched them both a pastry and tea.

“I have walked past this place and smelled the wonderful smells but have never come inside,” Matilda said and took a bite of her scone. She licked her lips and closed her eyes. “How delicious!”

Thornsby had read sonnets and poems aplenty at University, and some of them were romantic. When the authors talked about the object of their love, he had snickered. It all sounded so trite and silly to think that suddenly a man would just succumb to his feelings for a woman. But something at that point in their visit, and he was at a loss to say what, made it clear to him that he was very much in love with this woman. He didn’t feel an idle attraction or the matter of his inheritance were even at play any longer. He wanted to visit pastry shops with Matilda when they were middle-aged, and elderly as well. He wanted to make love to her by candlelight, and raise children with her, and kiss her, and make her smile until the last day he drew breath. How or why such a mundane exercise as stopping by a bakery made him see his life ahead clearly, he could not explain. But it was nonetheless true.

They walked back to her orphanage and talked about books they’d read and theatre they’d both seen. When they arrived at her door, he removed his hat.

“I would very much like to take you walking again soon, Matilda,” he said and was suddenly nervous. “I have estate business tomorrow. But may I call on you at eleven in two days?”

She looked up at him wide eyed. “I would like that very much, Thornsby,” she said. “Very much, indeed.”

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

 

M
atilda was helping Mrs. Brewer with the market list as another child would be arriving shortly. She was counting the days until Miss Pinkey arrived and took over the daily duties surrounding the orphanage. Matilda was hoping to send a note that day to Mrs. Smithly, and invite her to dine at Maplewood so that she could ask her about fund raising efforts and how best to proceed on that subject for the orphanage.

Matilda had a thousand things to do, not all pleasant, but nothing seemed to wipe the smile from her face. Thornsby would arrive that morning for another walk, and she was as excited as she’d ever been. She lay in bed the night before and thought about him until well into the night and arrived at the orphanage tired, but brimming with anticipation.

Matilda was in her brown serge, suitable for a woman with tasks, yet not cobweb covered or fraying. She’d dressed up once for Thornsby with disastrous results. She absolutely would not do it again. When she wore fashionable clothes, as she done when she went to the Benford Ball, she’d done the very thing she’d avoided doing for years. She’d stepped in to the
ton’s
world and ran headlong into their expectations. Far flung from the expectations she’d set for herself as a young woman.

But Matilda had Mimi fix her hair and pile the curls loosely on her head and around her face with a few tendrils twisting down her neck that very morning. Mimi snickered when Matilda told her she wanted to look particularly nice as she was meeting with her man of business. She had dismissed the maid as quickly as she dismissed her misgivings that she’d become a slave to appearances. After all, she’d still worn her sensible shoes today.

From her office, she heard Mrs. Brewer answer the door. She stood, straightened her skirts and touched her hair. Her surprise at his early arrival was a fleeting thought as her heart thumped in her chest.

Mrs. Brewer opened the office door and Millicent Marsh swept by her. “Countess Rundel to see you, Miss. Would you like me to bring tea?”

“I will not be staying long enough for tea,” Millicent said to Mrs. Brewer although her eyes never left Matilda’s face. “Leave us.”

“What do you want?” Matilda asked as Mrs. Brewer left the room.

Millicent raised her brows. “Hardly the attitude to take with the woman that has it within her power to ruin your family.”

“Whatever are you talking about? You have no influence on my family.”

Millicent sat herself on the edge of the settee. “Really, Matilda? Best not to make too quick a judgment. It doesn’t do you credit.”

“Why are you here? Whatever are you doing here, in my study, talking riddles?”

Millicent looked at Matilda with a smile. “Riddles? I love a riddle. I will tell you one, but I fear that it will not make you happy. Apparently, for some odd reason, Viscount Altry is taken with your younger sister, the dark-haired one.”

“And what of it?”

“It is unfortunate that she was indiscreet with a footman at the home of her friend Miss Walsh. The Viscount’s mother, the Countess of Marwick, in particular, is very upset that her son would be linked with your sister and by that association bring shame to her family. Lady Marwick is, by all accounts, quite a stickler for propriety.”

“How ridiculous you are! No one would believe you because it is not true.”

“Really, Miss Sheldon? How innocent you are! You do not know the way of society. It is already been talked about in some of the finest salons in the city.”

“So what of it? It is not true.”

“Really? There is a handsome, young footman willing to say it is true. Bragging about it amongst other servants. Willing to quote time and place and even name witnesses.”

Matilda’s head was spinning. She was not cut out for this duplicitous play acting. She knew she was out of her depths. “And who in good society would believe you? Your reputation is in tatters.”

“You wound me, Miss Sheldon,” Millicent said as she rose from her chair. “Unfortunately, for your family it is not me who is spreading the tale. It is Lady Marwick who just happens to be a cousin by marriage to the Marchioness of Hereford. There is a garden party at Herndon this weekend that your family is invited to, I believe. It would be a shame if there was some sort of scene, would it not?”

Millicent Marsh was staring at her and raised one penciled eyebrow. Matilda’s hands were shaking and she held them together at her waist. “What are you suggesting?” Matilda asked.

“Come now, my dear. Even you are aware that Thornsby is out of your league. He’s a man that needs an experienced woman if she means to keep him tied to the marriage bed. How conceited to throw away the happiness of your dear sisters over a man you are not meant to have.”

“My sister’s happiness is dear to me. What would you know of anyone else’s happiness other than you own?”

“Exactly, Matilda, dear. And it is in your power to save them. Quit the notion that you are suitable for Thornsby. Do it quickly and all will be well and as it should be,” Millicent said and swept from the room.

Matilda dropped into the chair. She felt panicked and ill and then heard Mrs. Brewer at the door.

 

* * *

 

“She’s in her sitting room, Your Grace,” Mrs. Brewer said. “Leave the door open if you don’t mind.”

“We won’t be here long, Mrs. Brewer. Miss Sheldon and I are arranged to take a walk this morning.”

Matilda stood with her back to him as he walked across the room. The sun was streaming through the windows and he was here, finally here, taking Matilda for a stroll, after the morning had drug on and he had checked his timepiece over and over. “Lovely day, Matilda. Are you ready for our outing?” he said with a smile.

But when she turned to him, his cheerfulness deserted him. She was pale and trembling and would not meet his eye. “What is it, Matilda? Are you unwell?”

“No,” she said and gestured to a chair for him as she slowly sat down on the worn settee. “I am fine, Your Grace.”

“Are you sure? May I get you a glass of water or a cup of tea? I’ll call Mrs. Brewer . . .”

“No,” she cut him off. “I have no need of refreshment. There is something weighing on my mind, though, that we need to discuss, and will preempt our walk.”

“What is it?”

Matilda looked him in the eye, although with none of the spark he’d seen when he challenged her or the desire when he had kissed her.

“I no longer wish for your company,” she said. “I will be unable to walk out with you this morning and would prefer it if you did not call again. In fact, I insist that you do not.”

“What is it, Matilda?” he asked. “What has happened?”

“Nothing has happened.”

“I thought you enjoyed yourself on our last outing and flatter myself to think that you were looking forward to today as much as I.”

“You are mistaken. My interest in you is minimal, and I have a busy schedule that does not include you, Your Grace.”

Thornsby tapped his gloves in the palm of his hand. “I thought our interest was mutual, Matilda. I hardly believe this sudden change of heart has not been precipitated from an event or perhaps something I said.”

She stood. “You are incorrect. I have never been interested in you, and I would prefer you did not address me so casually.”

He stood slowly and stared at Matilda. She was looking past him, over his shoulder. He made a crisp bow and said, “Good day then, Miss Sheldon. I’m sorry I’ve troubled you.”

 

* * *

 

Matilda sat quietly and watched the dust motes cascade in the swath of light shining through the window. She stood and walked to the kitchens.

“Mrs. Brewer?” she said. The woman was bent over adjusting pans in a massive oven. “I’ll be going home shortly.”

“That’s just fine, Miss Sheldon. We’ve got everything under control,” she said as she straightened and turned to Matilda. “Oh dear, Miss. Are you unwell? I’ll call Mr. Small to take you home.”

“No,” Matilda said. “That will not be necessary. But thank you.”

Mrs. Brewer tilted her head. “Weren’t you to go walking? Did the Duke say something to upset you, Miss?”

Matilda shook her head. “No. He did not.” She rubbed her thumb over a worn spot on the corner of the wooden table and replayed that dreadful scene. “He did nothing wrong.”

Mrs. Brewer made her way around the table and touched Matilda’s arm. “But something is the wrong.”

“No, Mrs. Brewer. I am fine.”

“What did Countess Rundel have to say to you?”

Matilda looked up sharply. “Nothing of any importance. Please do not repeat to anyone that she visited.” Matilda pulled her shawl from its hook and wrapped it about herself. “I’ll be on my way, then.”

Matilda shook her head as she walked out the door and climbed into the family carriage. When had she begun caring about him and what he thought, she wondered? How did a man, so seemingly unsuitable for her, become part of every thought in her head? Would she ever forget the look on his face when she told him she was not and never had been interested in him?

Matilda climbed the stairs to her room, dismissing Mimi, and finally giving in to the tears she’d been holding back. She had hurt him and done it with purposeful intent. She closed her eyes and squeezed them tight so his face, those wounded eyes, would not be in her head.

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