how we will pay for the damage to Mr. Elliott’s boots.”
Her sister groaned. “Some solicitor. Served that old pinchpurse right.” She cleared her throat and when she spoke again it was with the man’s stoic pitch. “‘A Season? Why, a dreadful waste of money. Economize, dear girls. Now that’s the best course of action given your situation—’” she sputtered and growled, not unlike the noise Brutus was making. “That cheap, wretched bast—”
“Thalia!” Felicity heaved a beleaguered sigh. Not that she didn’t share her sister’s sentiments about their solicitor, but she preferred to take a more ladylike stance on the matter. “Remember what Nanny Bridget always said. ‘The rare man is the one who looks toward a lady’s future.’”
“Yes, well Nanny Bridget wasn’t living in an empty mansion scratching by on her pin money, now was she?” she muttered back, but still she scooped Brutus up as they turned at the landing and soothed the little beast with some softly spoken assurances.
Another pair of boots would cut dearly into their already meager budget.
As the bell jangled with yet another insistent and discordant peal, Tally heaved a sigh. “Heavens! How terribly rude they are. Why don’t we have Mrs. Hutchinson get that?”
“Mrs. Hutchinson…is…indisposed,” Felicity supplied.
There was a indelicate snort from behind her. “Mrs. Hutchinson isn’t indisposed, she’s tangle-footed.”
“Could you be a bit more discreet?” Felicity said over her shoulder as she rounded the second landing. “What if someone heard you? How would it look if word got out that our household has some…some…irregularities?”
“We live in an empty house, my dearest Duchess,” Tally replied. “It won’t be long before someone notices. And that housekeeper you hired does us no favors. The woman is a tosspot, a drunkard, top-heavy, a high goer—”
“Yes, yes, so she’s got a slight penchant for brandy, but her wages are what we can afford.”
“Nice of her to work for brandy, I suppose,” Tally said. “And thank God we were able to liberate so many bottles from Uncle’s cellars before we left Sussex or we’d be up to our necks in debt with the spirit merchant’s bill.”
Felicity did her best to ignore Tally’s lamentations. “Don’t be so dramatic. Mrs. Hutchinson is merely unavailable to answer the door. And that is all it is.”
“Yes, if only that was all,” Tally said, sharing a skeptical glance with Brutus.
The bell jangled again, and whoever was on the other side, had an annoyingly persistent way of yanking it into such a discordant clamor, it was getting on Felicity’s nerves. “When I am the Duchess of Hollindrake…” she muttered as visions of an endless supply of coal, servants, and respectable housekeepers danced before her eyes.
“Yes, wouldn’t that be lovely,” Tally agreed quickly. “We’ll be living around the corner on Grosvenor Square, warm and snug without the least bit of economies.” She paused for a moment and let a wicked little grin tip her lips. “And most likely employ a housekeeper who doesn’t drink. What do you think? Do you think the duke’s housekeeper drinks, because—” She stopped mid-sentence, her mouth falling open in a wide moue. “You don’t think that perhaps he drinks and that’s why you haven’t heard from him in so long? With his grandfather’s death, maybe he’s fallen into a dark and dangerous decline. Oh, dear, Felicity, what if he’s turned into a rumpot and intends never to marry?”
“Piffle!” Felicity declared. “Aubrey Michael Thomas Sterling, the tenth Duke of Hollindrake, would never turn into a rumpot. He hasn’t such a nature.” With her nose in the air, she did her best to set aside the niggle of doubt her sister had managed to plant inside the armor she wore when it came to all matters pertaining to the duke.
“How do you know?” Tally argued. “You’ve never met the man.”
Felicity
Her sister groaned. “Some solicitor. Served that old pinchpurse right.” She cleared her throat and when she spoke again it was with the man’s stoic pitch. “‘A Season? Why, a dreadful waste of money. Economize, dear girls. Now that’s the best course of action given your situation—’” she sputtered and growled, not unlike the noise Brutus was making. “That cheap, wretched bast—”
“Thalia!” Felicity heaved a beleaguered sigh. Not that she didn’t share her sister’s sentiments about their solicitor, but she preferred to take a more ladylike stance on the matter. “Remember what Nanny Bridget always said. ‘The rare man is the one who looks toward a lady’s future.’”
“Yes, well Nanny Bridget wasn’t living in an empty mansion scratching by on her pin money, now was she?” she muttered back, but still she scooped Brutus up as they turned at the landing and soothed the little beast with some softly spoken assurances.
Another pair of boots would cut dearly into their already meager budget.
As the bell jangled with yet another insistent and discordant peal, Tally heaved a sigh. “Heavens! How terribly rude they are. Why don’t we have Mrs. Hutchinson get that?”
“Mrs. Hutchinson…is…indisposed,” Felicity supplied.
There was a indelicate snort from behind her. “Mrs. Hutchinson isn’t indisposed, she’s tangle-footed.”
“Could you be a bit more discreet?” Felicity said over her shoulder as she rounded the second landing. “What if someone heard you? How would it look if word got out that our household has some…some…irregularities?”
“We live in an empty house, my dearest Duchess,” Tally replied. “It won’t be long before someone notices. And that housekeeper you hired does us no favors. The woman is a tosspot, a drunkard, top-heavy, a high goer—”
“Yes, yes, so she’s got a slight penchant for brandy, but her wages are what we can afford.”
“Nice of her to work for brandy, I suppose,” Tally said. “And thank God we were able to liberate so many bottles from Uncle’s cellars before we left Sussex or we’d be up to our necks in debt with the spirit merchant’s bill.”
Felicity did her best to ignore Tally’s lamentations. “Don’t be so dramatic. Mrs. Hutchinson is merely unavailable to answer the door. And that is all it is.”
“Yes, if only that was all,” Tally said, sharing a skeptical glance with Brutus.
The bell jangled again, and whoever was on the other side, had an annoyingly persistent way of yanking it into such a discordant clamor, it was getting on Felicity’s nerves. “When I am the Duchess of Hollindrake…” she muttered as visions of an endless supply of coal, servants, and respectable housekeepers danced before her eyes.
“Yes, wouldn’t that be lovely,” Tally agreed quickly. “We’ll be living around the corner on Grosvenor Square, warm and snug without the least bit of economies.” She paused for a moment and let a wicked little grin tip her lips. “And most likely employ a housekeeper who doesn’t drink. What do you think? Do you think the duke’s housekeeper drinks, because—” She stopped mid-sentence, her mouth falling open in a wide moue. “You don’t think that perhaps he drinks and that’s why you haven’t heard from him in so long? With his grandfather’s death, maybe he’s fallen into a dark and dangerous decline. Oh, dear, Felicity, what if he’s turned into a rumpot and intends never to marry?”
“Piffle!” Felicity declared. “Aubrey Michael Thomas Sterling, the tenth Duke of Hollindrake, would never turn into a rumpot. He hasn’t such a nature.” With her nose in the air, she did her best to set aside the niggle of doubt her sister had managed to plant inside the armor she wore when it came to all matters pertaining to the duke.
“How do you know?” Tally argued. “You’ve never met the man.”
Felicity
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