Page 3 of Better Than a Duke
“The gargoyles keep me company. I chose Bellmire House for the view, and for the stone monsters. Not because of its distance from Hentrose Park.”
“Then I’m just lucky, I suppose, that the gargoyles chose a roof in Leicestershire.”
“Farsighted creatures, gargoyles are. I’ll see you in Mayfair, my dear.”
CHAPTER ONE
TWO WEEKS LATER.
“As you may recall from our previous seven hundred twelve conversations about it, there are rules here, and they are different than the rules at Hentrose Park,” Beckett said, looking up from yesterday’s edition of theLondon Times. While being in London meant learning the news before it became irrelevant, there were times he preferred not to know some of the lunacy at all.
The girl beside him, sitting up on her knees with her face plastered against the coach’s previously pristine window, giggled. “That man is wearing at least seventeen hats.” Lady Rebecca Raines, aged nine, jabbed her finger against the glass. “Perhaps twenty. I would like to be able to do that. Wear all my bonnets at once.”
“What was I reminding you about? Oh, yes. Rules. This is London,” Beckett resumed. “A very large pond of very odd ducks. For instance, a man who sells hats may choose to wear them all on his head rather than put out the money to purchase a cart for carrying them. You, Cricket, do not disturb said man and hishats unless you intend to purchase one. Nor do you request the bottommost hat unless you intend to purchase all of them.”
Rebecca turned her head to grin at him. “That’s not a rule, Papa.”
“It’s a matter of politeness. A rule is me telling you that you are not to venture out the front door of Raines House without either myself or Mrs. Brubbins accompanying you.”
“What about the rear door?”
“The rear door leads to a small garden. You may roam about there as you choose. You may not go beyond the walls without either myself or Mrs. Brubbins accompanying you.”
“What about the servants’ door?”
Folding the newspaper in half, he flicked it at her backside. “Incorrigible chit.”
With a laugh she turned and sat down on the coach’s seat. “Thank you for finally letting me join you,” she said, folding her hands in her lap, a proper young lady now. “I’ve wanted to visit London forever.”
He lifted an eyebrow. The understated enthusiasm of the young. “Yes, I recall you mentioning that once or twice.” Or a hundred thousand times.
“Will you take me to the museum?”
“Yes. And the menagerie.”
She kicked her heels against the polished wood holding up the forward-facing seat of the coach. “There are so many people. Do you know them all?”
“Only all the people in Mayfair.” Or a large percentage of them, anyway. At least he had at one time.
“I want to meet everyone. Oh, do they know who I am? I think I want to introduce myself as the grand Lady Rebecca Raines.” She mimed an overelaborate curtsy.
“I’d advise against calling yourself ‘grand’; that’s for others to decide.”
She nodded. “That’s good advice, Papa.”
“Thank you. And now I advise you to take a nap,” he said, feigning a yawn as he glanced outside. “It’ll be at least an hour before we reach Grosvenor Street.”
“An hour? That’s forever!”
“It’s already been three days. What’s another few minutes, Cricket?”
“I’ll be ten before we get there.”
Beckett grinned. “That’s a shame. The Season will be well over by September. And clearly I should have brought another book or two with me in anticipation of a five-month-long coach ride.”
“And more sweets and bisc—”
“My lord?” Robin, his coach driver, called, knocking on the roof. “You asked to be informed when we reached Grosvenor Street.”
