Page 92 of Better Than a Duke
“I just thought we should become acquainted,” Edmund said. “You told Mama you might marry her, and if you do, we’ll be living in the same house.”
“How old are you?”
“Ten, Your Grace.”
“Cheeky lad. You should be in school. Nearly grown and still attached to your mother’s teat. We’ll see you turned into a man, boy. Don’t you worry.”
“I’m not worried,” Edmund lied. So he and Becks would both be headed to boarding school if their plan failed. “Does that mean you’ve decided? About Mama?”
Old Moldy turned to gaze at her where she sat chatting with Mrs. Brubbins and Becks. “She’s pretty enough. Makes me think of things. She’ll do, I reckon.” He chuckled like he’d forgotten Edmund was sitting next to him. “Says she’s willing, but flinches every time I put a finger near her. I’ll see to that.” He shifted,seeming to notice Edmund again. “Go tell her I want a word with her about our… potential betrothal, boy.”
“Oh, she wanted a word withyou. That’s why I’m here. She said to meet her in the morning room.”
“Well, well. Good lad. Toddle away, now.” Trent picked up his glass of brandy and took a long swallow before he stood and ambled toward the hallway.
They’d been right; the engagements were supposed to happen tonight. Both of them. And from what Becks had overheard, Masquerade meant to kiss the Major and make him marry her because he was honorable. Old Moldy would do the same thing, kiss the Mongoose and then say she had to marry him to keep from being ruined.
Adults were horrible, except for the Biscuitses. He meant never to act like that, to lie and scheme and trick people into doing things. Well, except for tonight. Tonight, he and his partners meant to trick everyone.
Standing again, he walked over to his tutor. “The duke is going to the morning room,” he muttered. “There are two doors, one on the foyer, and one on the right-hand hallway.”
“Done and done, my dear old son,” Mr. Fredericks muttered, and a minute later left the room.
It would be fun to lock both Old Moldy and Masquerade up until they both begged to go straight home, but that would only see to things for tonight. Tomorrow engagements and betrothals and seductions could happen all over again, and he and Becks might not be about to put a stop to it. “Mama,” he said, sitting beside Becks again, “the duke said he wants to see you about your potential betrothal.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders lifted and sank again. “Very well.”
“He said he’ll be waiting for you in the garden.”
His mother smoothed her skirts. Then she clapped her handsagainst her thighs and stood up. “I’ll go see what he has to say, then, I suppose.” She kissed Edmund on the cheek. “We make the best of what we have, do we not?”
“Always,” he returned. Then he went and sat beside Becks.
“That’s all four of them out of the room,” Becks whispered. “My turn now.” She clapped her hands against her thighs just like his mama had done, then stood up and pranced out to the hallway.
As soon as she was out of sight of the people in the drawing room, Rebecca stopped prancing. She needed to give Mr. Fredericks a minute to secure Old Moldy, Mongoose needed time to get to the garden, and the Major needed to finish helping Mrs. Alliday figure out the desserts and go outside, too, which was her job.
The person she most worried about ruining everything was Whiskers; her grandmother always seemed to know what everyone was even thinking, and that wouldn’t do tonight. Not at all. If they needed to invent something to keep her occupied, Rebecca would have to think of it, and she would have to do it quickly.
Just behind the kitchen door she stopped, took a deep breath, and then walked straight in. “Papa?”
He finished licking a spoon with orange meringue on it and put it behind his back. The cook winked at her from beside him. Ha! She’d known the desserts would work as a distraction; Papa loved sweets. And orange meringue made his toes tingle.
“What is it, Rebecca?” he asked, putting the spoon on the worktable behind him.
“I didn’t want to say anything to Eddie,” she went on, putting a hand beside her mouth, “but I saw his mama go by the window in the garden. She looked like she was crying.”
He took a fast step toward the door leading outside, then stopped. “Um, the garden? I—Mrs. Alliday, please do as we… discussed.”
The cook bobbed a curtsy. “Of course, my lord.”
“Rebecca, return to the drawing room, if you would,” the Major said. “Keep Mrs. Brubbins and Mr. Fredericks company. I would imagine they’re uncomfortable tonight. I’ll be back in a moment.”
“I’ll do it. I think you’re right; Mr. Fredericks just tried to rhyme ‘dinner’ with ‘manners.’ I thought he might faint.”
He nodded. “Yes, of course.” That didn’t make any sense, but that was good. If he was worried about Mrs. Silbern, that was very good.
The second he shut the door behind him, Mrs. Alliday rushed over and locked it. “That won’t put him off for long. You can’t lock a lord out of his own house.”
