Page 24 of It's All About the Duke
Oh, yes. Marlena knew exactly how many days it had been and it wasn’t because Justine had reminded her several times. For some reason she hadn’t been able to get the infuriating man out of her mind no matter what book she read, what stitch she made on her embroidery sample, or what score she played on the pianoforte. She kept seeing him with that hint of a smile that had made her heart beat like the splattering of rain storming against a window.
However, Marlena only answered her cousin with an uninterested, “Mmm.”
“It’s shameful really, and I’m quite vexed about it,”Justine continued. “He must know I need to hear fromhimthat Mr. Olingworth’s letter is indeed fact.”
Marlena couldn’t understand Justine not taking her word for it, but she’d stopped trying to convince her and had stayed quiet whenever she’d mentioned it the past several days.
“It’s as if he has no manners nor respect for us, which we know can’t be true. But he obviously hasn’t any time for us. Most certainly because he is a duke and we are the lowly relatives of a disfavored earl. The more I ponder about this the more I’m thinking the duke has no pleasing qualities about him whatsoever.” Justine stopped pacing. “Though he is quite handsome in a roguish sort of way, don’t you think? He dances well, too. And if he does have designs on me, I’d have to consider him.”
Marlena answered with another, “Mmm.” She certainly didn’t want her cousin knowing any of her own thoughts about the duke.
“But that doesn’t make up for the fact I have forgone my afternoon beauty rest, dressed in my beautiful clothing, and had my maid labor over my hair almost beyond endurance every day for a week. And all for naught, mind you.”
“There are seven days in a week, Justine—not five,” Marlena found herself saying.
Her cousin ignored her correction and walked over to the window and looked outside. “Since the duke hasn’t had the civility to come by, communicate by a note, or even send a solicitor to speak to us about what his intentions are for me or his plans for you, perhaps none of this is true.”
“You must give him time,” Marlena answered absently while Tut lay quietly curled at her feet. He was used to Justine’s rantings, too, but that didn’t keep his ears from twitching every so often.
“I have.”
“I’m sure he has many things to take care of throughout the day.”
“Thunderbolts and lightning, Marlena. So do we. Still we take the time to dress in our finest to wait for him to call on us. And he repays us by not coming to our door.”
Marlena tried to ignore her cousin’s rantings and kept working on her column for next week’sMiss Truth’s Scandal Sheet. Justine never questioned Marlena about what or whom she was corresponding with when she was writing at her desk. Putting a quill in her hand and writing a letter, poetry, or even a note of thanks was the last thing Justine wanted to do. However, today had proven she was a master at the spoken word. She’d seldom stopped talking since she’d come belowstairs earlier in the afternoon.
It was difficult for Marlena to believe, but her cousin didn’t even like to read. Justine had always said she was quite happy with her own thoughts and didn’t need to be reading anyone else’s musings. She had plenty of her own to occupy her mind. And if you thanked someone for having you to their party while you were there, she saw no reason to thank them again in a handwritten note later in the week.
Perhaps that was because Marlena had seen her script, and some of her words were truly illegible. Justine had owned up to the fact she’d never had the patience to master the art. The good thing about it was that Justine cared not a fig about how often Marlena picked up a quill to write a few words or what she wrote about. She simply had no interest in the written word, no matter who wrote it—unless, of course, someone wrote to her.
That worked out very well for Marlena not having to worry about her cousin looking over her shoulder with curiosity. Too, Marlena never added the salutation ofDear Readersor her nom de plume at the bottom of the scandal sheet until she wrote the final draft and it was ready to be handed off to Eugenia.
Marlena picked up the wet inked sheet and silently read to herself:The wintry season hasn’t left us but the air is filled with a taste of springtime and a sunny hint of gossip.
No, that wasn’t quite salacious enough to start the column. Her readers wanted more than a hint of gossip. Marlena thought for a moment, then moved farther down the vellum and wrote again:There may be snow clouds still gathering over London’s streets and buildings but the latest rumors will be as welcomed as sunbeams streaking through an icy crusted windowpane.
Marlena studied over that one for a few moments and decided it was better but not completely right, either. She might have to wait until Justine went abovestairs to rest before she came up with something to her liking today. The constant chattering and complaining was distracting. And for some reason it seemed to be wearing on Marlena’s nerves more than usual this afternoon.
No, notsomereason. She knew the exact reason. And that in itself was worrisome. She, too, wondered why the duke hadn’t returned as he’d said he would. True, he hadn’t said when he would be back to see them, but Marlena had thought it would have been within a day or two. Three or four at the most, not a day or two less than a week.
She looked up at the top shelf on the secretary. There lay the duke’s handkerchief. Washed, pressed, and folded. There was no starch in it, and Marlena had told Mrs. Doddle to make sure there were no wrinkles in it, either. She wanted to return it to the duke as soft and fresh as it was when he wiped her cheek.
Glancing over at Justine, Marlena saw that her cousinwas staring out the front window as if trying to will the duke to show. Marlena picked up the handkerchief and smelled it as she had several times for the past few days. Nothing had changed. All traces of the duke’s subtle, masculine scent were gone, and in its place was the arid smell a hot iron left on fine linen.
Marlena smiled and replaced the handkerchief where it would be easily seen whenever the duke decided to grace them with his presence. Now that it was over, and she could think rationally about what had happened the day they met, it was humorous and made her smile. It really was quite clever of the duke to make her think she had a bee or wasp on her cheek when it was nothing more than soil from the garden. No doubt he was the kind of man who had no problem gingerly teasing a young lady.
But his tactic had also calmed her and helped her realize he wasn’t there to have her arrested for writing about him. And though she was sure it wasn’t his intention, he had vexed her when he untied her ribbon and his warm fingers had touched her throat. She hadn’t stopped thinking about that, either. What surprised her most of all was that there was no meanness, no offensiveness or feeling of being forced to bear what he was doing. His untying the knot for her had not upset her sensibilities.
There was no impression he was being a rake, a scoundrel, or anything other than a man who wanted to help her.
“The duke said he’d get you a premier finishing governess and he hasn’t bothered to do that, either,” Justine complained.
“What?” Marlena asked when her cousin’s words broke into her fond remembrance of the duke. “Not a premier governess, no. I never said that. I doubt there are any available at this late date. He only said that he’d hire someone who knows what to do.”
“A duke can move mountains, dear girl, and we willexpect him to do exactly that for us,” she said, walking back over to where Marlena sat. “There’s precious little time left to get you prepared if he wants you to attend the very best parties, teas, and other events of the Season. Had we only known we could have already been working on obtaining such things, but of course Mr. Olingworth didn’t keep us apprised of what he was thinking or doing so we had no idea there would be plans for you to make your debut this year. We certainly never received any money from him to get you started on your gowns. However, a duke can get whatever he wants and usually when he wants it. Best you remember that.”
“I understand, Justine,” Marlena answered, beginning to feel a little weary from her cousin’s constant talking. “And even I know not much can be done other than clothing until everyone starts returning to London from their winter estates. Now, would you like to go to your bedchamber and rest as you usually do? There’s only half an hour of proper visiting time left in the day. If you’re worried the duke might come by, maybe you should keep on your dress and just be careful how you lie down. That way you’ll be ready quickly should he arrive.”
