Page 61 of Yours Truly, the Duke
When joy from out the daisies grew,
In woodland pastures green,
And summer skies were far more blue
Than since they e’er have been.
Sitting at the secretary in the drawing room, Fredericka looked at the embroidered rose and lightly ran her finger over it. After visiting several shops and looking through what seemed to be thousands of colors of thread, Elise had found the shade she was looking for. It was a deep but bright reddish-pink. Angela’s favorite color, according to her daughter. The rose was beautifully and perfectly stitched. Elise had been so careful it had taken her a couple of days to finish the sample.
After framing it, Fredericka was going to ask Elise where she wanted to hang it at Paddleton. In her own room, the drawing room, or maybe there was another special place she wanted it displayed. The problem was that Fredericka didn’t know when they would be returning to Paddleton or if the children would be returning at all. She tried not to worry, but did. She wasn’t as convinced as the duke that Jane would not win custody of the children.
She hadn’t seen the duke since the disastrous incident in the park. Fredericka hadn’t even passed Wyatt in the entryway since then. That didn’t mean he hadn’t been on her mind, along with thoughts of what Jane might be planning now that Fredericka was in London for a few days. She had expected to hear from her cousin before now. Maybe the reason Jane hadn’t stopped by the duke’s house was because she’d returned to her home in Kent.
As luck would have it, she not only wondered where Jane was; she wondered where the duke was too. It was as if Wyatt were two different people. The man she’d read about, saw dancing with Miss Fenway, and kissed Fredericka so thoroughly she still hadn’t managed to forget how the passionate embrace made her feel. And the man who was accepting of her nieces and nephew far better than she could have imagined any gentleman would be. A man who was kind enough to let a young thief get away without punishment for fear he was hungry. Fredericka should have shown kindness too. She liked to think she would have if she hadn’t been so worried Jane would use the incident against her in court.
But that wasn’t half of her cluttered thoughts concerning Wyatt. She’d often mused about the proposal letter his friend, the Duke of Stonerick, had mentioned. Much as it vexed her, Fredericka was still curious and wished she could have read it. Three handsome rakes putting amorous thoughts together to try to win a lady’s hand? The very idea of it made her smile. What in the name of Cupid would they have come up with?
Was it blather, as Wyatt had assured her, or something that would truly make a lady swoon? She had no idea. After all her thinking, studying, and worrying about him, she wasn’t any closer to understanding him, but she was more intrigued than ever.
“No,” she whispered to herself, carefully laying Elise’s lovely embroidery aside on the secretary. “I won’t think about it anymore. It’s high time I put the duke and his discarded letter to the back of my mind where they belong.”
However, her next thought was that she would have loved to have read it anyway. No doubt it would have been more interesting than the terse one-sentence statement she’d received.
She huffed a laugh to herself and thought about joining Miss Litchfield and the children in the classroom to look more closely over all the supplies Burns had delivered over the past few days. But Fredericka had a tendency to take charge whenever she was with the children. In no time she would be telling the governess what lessons to start with, where to place the chalkboards, the papers, and learning books. She would have told her what to use first and what to save for later. Where to move the tables, desks, and chairs for the best possible lighting.
Sweet woman she was, Miss Litchfield wouldn’t have uttered a word in opposition. She always agreed with Fredericka. Probably for fear she would upset Fredericka and possibly lose her employment.
Fredericka would never do that to the older woman. So, instead of usurping the governess with all their new materials, she would make a list of things she still wanted to do while in London. She had met with Miss Gladwin again yesterday and was quite sure she would offer the young governess a position once they had a date to return to Paddleton—which shouldn’t be too long. She had talked with a woman from the employment agency about tutors for Charles and arranged interviews. After that, she met with the modiste she’d chosen. Measurements were taken, fabrics and designs selected, so the seamstress could get started on new dresses and gowns.
Fredericka trimmed the tip of her quill, dipped it into the inkpot, and started making her list for things to attend to tomorrow. Shoes, clothing, and coats for the girls and Charles. She’d let them skip their lessons to go with her to pick out fabrics, and to the bookshop. That was quite important. While the schoolroom was now well-stocked with appropriate books, the duke’s library wasn’t. She wanted to read the most recently published poetry. That thought reminded her of her own verse still tucked away in the drawer. She took out the sheets and started reading.
It was really quite good.
“Excuse me, Your Grace,” the butler said from the doorway.
“Yes, Burns.”
“Mrs. Jane Tomkin is here and wants to know if you are available to see her.”
Fredericka’s stomach jumped as it always did when she heard Jane’s name.
“Of course. She’s my cousin and always welcome.”
“Yes, Your Grace. Would you like for me to arrange to have tea or other refreshment brought in for you?”
“Thank you, no. She never stays long.”
Fredericka opened a drawer on the secretary, slipped the sheets of paper inside, and closed it. No use in taking the chance Jane might accidently see her poetry as the Duke of Stonerick had. While she considered her lines about the beauty of flowers moving, lyrical, and quite good for someone not trained in the art of persuasive and entertaining verse, she had no doubt Jane would consider them old-fashioned, boring, and uninspiring.
Suddenly childhood memories of writing poetry for Jane and Angela flooded Fredericka’s mind, bringing unwanted feelings. She was always so proud of what she composed and eager to share it with them. She wouldwrite a simple verse and leave it on their pillows, in a drawer for them to find, or by their dinner plates. Sometimes they would mention having read her poetry, but most of the time they never said a word to let her know they’d discovered it.
Fredericka swallowed down the sadness that washed over her. She’d tried everything her young mind could think of to be a part of her older sister’s life. Nothing had ever worked. Now she had to do everything possible to keep Jane from taking Angela’s children from her.
With a flourish of royal-blue skirts swishing about her legs and a bright pink reticule decorated with exceptionally long fringe hanging from her wrist, her cousin paraded into the drawing room. “Your Grace,” she greeted with a rather firmly set smile on her lips while offering a brief bend of her knees. “So good of you to take time for me. I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important.”
Taking a steadying breath, she rose from the desk chair and replied, “I always have time to see you.”
In a sweeping glance, Jane’s eyes scanned the beautiful details of the decor. “A blessing indeed, if only it were true. Really, Fredericka.” She sniffed disdainfully as the fake smile evaporated. “Shouldn’t I have been the first to know you’d come to London? Why do I always have to be the last to know what’s happening in your life? Your lack of doing what is proper never ceases to amaze me.”
