Page 5 of Yours Truly, the Duke
Fredericka Hale had always prided herself on her sensible behavior, tolerance of others, and quiet disposition. But of course, that was before she became mother to her sister’s three young children. Since then, her patience always seemed to be at the snapping point, and she never felt as if she was in complete control of anything.
“Charles! Bella! Elise! Calm down!” Fredericka called from the dressing area of her bedchamber doorway while adding an amethyst-studded comb to her upswept hair. Her door was open, but she didn’t know if the children could hear her above their own laughing and squealing as they tried to yell louder at one another.
If not for her plans, she might not have minded the noise so much. The children knew if they were going to be in the drawing room they should be either reading poetry or writing it. Today was too important for them tomisbehave. It was nearly time for Mr. Maywaring to call on her. If he heard such screeching and carrying on, he’d never consider allowing the children to remain with her if they married.
With nervous fingers, she picked up one of the teardrop earrings that matched her necklace and started fastening it to her ear. Mr. Maywaring was the last gentleman on her carefully detailed list of possible husbands. If she couldn’t bring herself to welcome a proposal from him, she’d have to make another list.
The thought was almost as daunting as the idea of marriage.
Fredericka had already met with, considered, and decided against the other three gentlemen. An elderly earl had been her first choice, but after the second visit with him she concluded he was simply too much her senior and they would never suit. Sir Michael Salter was only fifteen years older than her twenty years and had children of his own. She’d been hopeful he’d be acceptable when she learned of his fondness of writing poetry. She imagined the two of them reading their verse to each other in the evenings. Those thoughts fled her mind quickly. As soon as she’d dismissed the children from the room, he was chasing her around the settee trying to kiss her. Such behavior would be expected after marriage, she supposed, but certainly not before. She wanted nothing more than to show him the door.
And then there was the very proper bachelor, Mr. Calvin Coppinger. He had immediately turned his nose up at the children when he entered the drawing room and later gave Bella a disdainful look when she started coughing. He made it quite clear he’d never be tolerant of her nieces and nephew or any children who were allowed to be in the presence of adults for an extended length of time.
Fredericka had no choice but to decide against him too. And counted it as no loss.
Now she was down to Mr. Maywaring. Most ladies would think him handsome enough with straight ash-brown hair and deep-set brown eyes, but he was a stiff fellow to say the least. He kept his collar and neckcloth so high and tight he could hardly move his head without turning his whole body. However, she supposed she could manage to live with that. When she’d engaged in conversation with him at the Christmas ball, and later at a spring dance, he’d kept sniffing. It was appropriate for a man to enjoy a pinch of snuff once in a while, but he seemed to take the indulgence to the extreme. The habit was most annoying.
Nonetheless, there were good things about him to consider as well. He had a delightful sister, whom Fredericka was quite fond of, and he was closer to her age than the other men.
She would have no choice but to start over and make another list if she didn’t find Mr. Maywaring more acceptable than she had during her previous meetings with him. The problem was that she was running out of time. If her cousin, Jane, hadn’t decided she wanted to take the children from Fredericka’s care, a husband wouldn’t be necessary.
Fredericka would have been content to remain unmarried and dedicate her life to taking care of Elise, Charles, and Bella. It was not only her duty but an honor. A husband had not been in her plans until her cousin challenged her rights. Shame that it was, a lady couldn’t be a legal guardian for children who had property and must defer that position to her husband. Which meant Fredericka now had to find one.
Her barrister had made it clear that as a young missshe would have little to no possibility of winning official guardianship of children. She had to marry if she wanted a chance of keeping them out of Jane’s clutches. Even then it wasn’t certain she would win custody.
Not only did Jane have a doting husband of eight years to promenade in front of the court, she and her husband had substantial allowances and an expensive barrister to represent them in court. Fredericka was an accepted member of Polite Society by birthright, but unfortunately, her finances had limitations.
She couldn’t dare use any of the children’s inheritance to keep them even if their trustee would allow it. The girls would need the money for their dowries when they made a match and Charles for his education and allowance until the time came when he could take over the Paddleton estate. The only things of theirs Fredericka made use of were the house and staff already working for her sister when she and her husband died.
Jane was nowhere to be found after that dreadful event and was happy for Fredericka to handle everything. She didn’t offer to move in and help comfort the brokenhearted children with the terrible loss that made them orphans. They had never been invited to visit with Jane at her impressive estate in Kent. Not even for Christmastide. When Elise was ill with fever, Jane merely sent a note of mild concern, and that was just a few months ago. No, her interest only started when she finally accepted, after years of marriage, she must be barren and would never have a babe of her own.
At first Fredericka’s heart ached for Jane’s devastating news, but that was before she realized Jane wanted to separate the children and take only Charles into her home. She was going to kindly allow Fredericka to keep the girls.
She would never allow that to happen to her sister’s children. Losing their parents was hard enough. They couldn’t be separated from one another. To lose their brother would be far too upsetting for them.
Besides, she loved Charles and the girls equally. How could she give up any of them?
Fredericka clasped her hands together for a moment to regain her composure before picking up her necklace. Though it had been over a year, she still felt tightness in her chest, a catch in her throat, and the hollow sinking pull of guilt in the pit of her stomach whenever she thought of the passing of her sister. She’d often tried to erase those feelings of pain and sorrow from her mind but finally decided they were ghosts that would never go away.
She would have to learn to live with them. Every time they were brought to mind, it hurt deeply that she felt responsible for her sister’s death. If Fredericka hadn’t insisted Angela go with her husband to London that day they wouldn’t have stopped at the tavern and eaten the spoiled food that had poisoned their stomachs so severely recovery wasn’t possible. Angela hadn’t wanted to go, but Fredericka had insisted a short visit to London with her husband would be good for their troubled marriage. Instead, it had ended their lives.
A shrill peal of laughter from Bella shuddered through Fredericka. She swallowed the lump that had lodged in her throat. This wasn’t the time to think about things she couldn’t change or bury. She had to move forward and hope this would be a joyous day.
After connecting the two ends of the necklace, she pressed her hands down the front of her pale-amethyst day dress and looked into the mirror one more time. She didn’t want a strand of hair to be out of place when she greeted Mr. Maywaring. He was a dandy of the highest order and fashion was of upmost importance to him. Pushing one of the combs deeper into her hair, she made a hasty exit from her bedchamber.
Her efforts to halt the noise below from the top of the stairs fell on deaf ears. The squealing continued as she made it to the bottom and called the children’s names again in an effort to get them under control. She had no idea how only two small girls and a boy could sound as if a group of thirty youngsters were playing on the back lawn.
Fredericka rounded the doorway and almost lost her breath.
“Sweet gooseberries!” she managed to whisper when shock left her immobile.
The drawing room was in shambles. Bella was pounding seven-year-old Charles in the chest with a cluster of long-stemmed peonies. Pink petals from the blooms fluttered everywhere. Elise was bouncing a pillow off the top of his head. His laughter was loud enough to raise the rafters and caused the freckles across his nose to brighten.
Newsprint and other pillows were strewn around the floor, along with several blooms from the destroyed bouquet. A gray woolen shawl that should have been neatly draped across the end of the settee was wadded in a ball. The expensive silk tapestry that Fredericka had finished embroidering just a week ago was being trampled beneath Charles’ big feet. At the claw-footed legs of a side table, a blue velvet cushion lay in a puddle of water from the overturned vase of flowers.
“Stop immediately!” Fredericka exclaimed, though it didn’t appear they heard her above their gaiety. “Quiet this instant!” she called in a louder, more defiant tone as she stomped toward them. “Or I shall send you to bed this evening without the sweet confections Mrs. Dryden is making for you at this very moment.”
The siblings seemed to freeze in their steps and stared at her with their big blue, innocent eyes. It always amazed her how guiltless they could look whenever she caught them doing something they shouldn’t be doing.
