Page 6 of Yours Truly, the Duke
Which, fortunately, wasn’t too often.
Charles held his spindly arms limp at his sides as if he hadn’t moved a muscle in years. Elise clasped her hands behind her back and delicately swung her bony shoulders from side to side. Bella looked down at the destroyed peonies in her little hands as if to wonder what had happened to the blossoms.
Fredericka tried to be patient with the children. She and their mother, Angela, had been orphaned at a young age too. Their deep hurts and heartaches were emotional, but they wouldn’t have dreamed of participating in some of the things that Bella, Charles, and Elise had done. While Fredericka did her best to keep the children in line, she readily admitted to herself she had a problem with them misbehaving and indulging in youthful folly. She wanted them to be perfect.
“I can’t believe this.” Fredericka’s voice was tinged with fatigue and irritation as she surveyed the jumble of mess once again. “It’s almost time for Mr. Maywaring to arrive. Can you imagine what he would think if he walked up to the door and heard the way you were carrying on? Or if he saw this disarray? He’d turn on his heels and march off without a word. I’ve explained to you that you mustn’t misbehave when I’m expecting a visitor.” Realizing what she’d said, she amended, “Well, you should never misbehave, but certainly not when guests are due.”
Fredericka shook her head in frustration. She was constantly overwhelmed by all she didn’t know about caring for children. Keeping up with a five-, seven-, andnine-year-old wasn’t easy. And she had very little help from their governess.
“Where is Miss Litchfield?”
Elise and Charles only stared at her and blinked.
“She’s in the garden resting her eyes,” Bella said calmly. “She gets sleepy when she sits in sunshine.”
Fredericka could always count on the youngest to answer first.
“We didn’t want to disturb her, so we came inside to play,” Elise admitted quietly, brushing her golden-colored tresses to the back of her shoulders.
“Th-the s-sun was hot anyway,” Charles added, his head bobbing to underscore his comment. “B-but she likes to rest in the f-fresh afternoon air.”
If only the children wanted to nap every afternoon, Fredericka thought crossly.
She took in a deep breath, hoping to settle the annoyance she was feeling for Miss Litchfield, who could sleep through anything. The governess was too old to care for three rambunctious children, but she had been working for Angela when Fredericka took responsibility for them. After much thought, Fredericka decided it was best to keep everything as normal as possible, and that included retaining Miss Litchfield and all the other staff employed.
In the midst of all the other challenges, each child had issues that had arisen since their parents’ deaths. Bella was having accidents in the bed several times a week. Charles had developed a stutter that seemed to be getting worse, not better, and Elise had an uncommon fear of not wanting to be left alone. Even during the daytime.
Being a mother was far more than Fredericka could have imagined. She never dreamed she’d have this responsibility, but now, more than a year later, she knewshe could never give them up without a fierce fight. She loved them as if they were her own. Which was why she had to marry and give herself every advantage possible to keep them with her. Right now, Mr. Maywaring was her best chance.
“I’ll help you clean up,” Bella said with a chubby-cheek smile that always delighted Fredericka.
But then, her heart usually melted whenever one of the children looked at her so happily. “All of us will help,” Fredericka said, softening her tone. “Bella, pick up every blossom and throw them on the fire. Don’t miss a one. Elise, gather the newsprint, wad it tight, and do the same. Put the usable flowers back in the vase, and then pluck the petals from your sister’s hair and retie the ribbon on her dress. Charles, take up that tapestry you’re standing on, fold it properly, and place it on the window seat. When finished, I want to see each of you sitting down and quiet as a mouse.” She pointed to the three straight-back chairs lined up near the fireplace. “I don’t want to hear one peep out of you while Mr. Maywaring is here. We need to show him that you know how to conduct yourselves properly when we have guests.”
Quietly, the children started working and so did Fredericka. She had to remain formidable with the children or they would completely take over the household.
It was an odd thing to do, and most inappropriate, but she needed the children to be in the room when she invited prospective husbands to call on her. Whomever she married had to understand they came with her. The girls would not be sent to stay with Jane. And at seven, Charles was still too young to attend Eton or any other boarding school.
They were hers to love and care for as long as they needed her. Not Jane’s or anyone else’s.
Fredericka resettled the throw and picked up a book she hadn’t seen lying under one of the chairs and placed it on top of the secretary in the corner. While trying to decide what to do with the drenched pillow that had soaked up the flower water, she heard a forceful knock on the front door.
Dread filled her chest. Her hands tightened on the soft cushion.
Marriage had been something she’d considered years ago but not now. At the time, thoughts of a handsome gentleman to make her swoon and sweep her off her feet with sweet smiles, romantic words, and brief touches on her arm or hands were welcomed dreams. She enjoyed putting her contemplations about romantic love in verse and poetry and had been working on her own book. Now such things were visions of the past. Most of her poetic writings were about flowers—not fanciful ideas of love. She wanted a man who would help make sure her sister’s children stayed in her care and flourished.
Fredericka turned to them. “That will be Mr. Maywaring. Hop onto your chairs and keep your hands folded in your laps as you’ve done before. Don’t say anything other than a greeting and only if he should speak to you first. Otherwise—” She put her forefinger to her lips, pursed them, and whispered, “Shh.”
“W-what if I have to s-scratch my nose or c-chin?” Charles asked, twisting his fingers together nervously in front of him.
“Of course you may do that. Your elbow or anywhere else. Well, almost anywhere. You know what I mean, Charles. This is not the first time we’ve been through this. If you remember your manners, everything will be fine. Your evening dessert depends on how well you conduct yourselves.”
And, most likely, where they would live for the rest of their childhood also hinged on their behavior. But she couldn’t tell them that. Not yet anyway. There was no need to alarm them by letting them know how close they were to having to live with Jane.
“I’m thirsty,” Bella whimpered as she crawled onto her chair.
“M-me too,” Charles whined.
Fredericka cleared her throat, feeling wretched she’d been so terse with them earlier. But what was she to do? She was never supposed to be the disciplinarian, but she had to be since Miss Litchfield hadn’t stepped up to the responsibilities of her job to do it.
