The Bumblebroth Read Free Page B

him good to be set a task for keeping us waiting so shamefully."
    William was quite accustomed to his mother's rudeness, but the duchess heard her with astonishment. The criticism on the politeness of her staff could hardly be ignored. It required her to call the butler at the very least. This she did, and then waited in rigidly smiling silence for the servant to answer.
    The snub had no effect on Lady Westbury, but William, feeling that it was merited, set about making pleasant conversation, to the end that he managed to coax at least one smile from the duchess before the servant appeared.
    By the time the elderly Barlow had entered the room, Her Grace of Upavon had sufficiently recovered under this gentle treatment to do further battle in her daughter's behalf.
    "His lordship and Lady Westbury would like to see Lady Pamela, Barlow, but I have informed them that my daughter is probably immersed in her studies or, I daresay, even resting. Would you happen to know?"
    She exchanged a meaningful look with her servant who, after betraying only a glimmer of surprise, said after a slight hesitation, "Your Grace is undoubtedly correct."
    The duchess turned back to Lady Westbury, folded her hands in her lap and smiled, blissfully unaware of the dirt on her nose. "You see," she said, "Pamela is occupied."
    William hid a smile. Her triumph— grossly premature, if only she knew— could only goad his mother to greater rudeness.
    "Nonsense!" Lady Westbury declared, more in keeping with her normal manner. "We shall wait until he has carried your message upstairs."
    The duchess bit her lip, obviously unaccustomed to such an accomplished adversary. William felt a strong urge to explain to her that this lack of tact on the part of Lady Westbury constituted his entire reason for living in London the year round.
    Nonplussed, the duchess turned back to her servant. "But I daresay the governess will be most annoyed if Pamela's lessons are disturbed. Don't you agree, Barlow?"
    "I quite agree, Your Grace."
    Lady Westbury huffed. She gave Barlow the look she used to depress all pretension in servants. "You must not let yourself be bullied by the child's governess, Duchess! I would not, for one moment, tolerate such a thing in my household!"
    Finally at point non plus, the Duchess of Upavon turned to William as if for assistance. She still clutched the flowers in her hands. They had long since wilted.
    William debated for a split-second whether to respond to her silent plea and call an end to the encounter, but by this time he had begun to enjoy himself far too much. He knew that he would do no harm to Lady Pamela, no matter what the duchess thought. Her reluctance to present the girl had made him start to wonder just what sort of nonpareil she was hiding. His intentions could not be altered; no girl of fifteen could interest him enough to hold his affection. But if the girl had even half her mother's beauty, he would count it worth the trip merely to have seen her.
    Besides, it piqued him to know precisely what the duchess had found in him to make him ineligible. He was not accustomed to being thought lacking. Curiosity and his rather cynical nature, at this point, got the better of him.
    "I must confess— " William clasped his hands behind his head, crossed his legs, and settled himself more deeply into his chair "— the longer the wait, the more eager I become to see her."
    There was a pause while the duchess's eyes grew round with dismay, but William's last words finally seemed to decide the issue. With a startled breath, Her Grace of Upavon immediately instructed her servant to inform Lady Pamela that visitors wished to see her. Then, as an afterthought, she told him to make certain that Nanny Phillips accompanied her charge.
    "My daughter is scarcely out of the nursery," she informed them with her chin in the air.
    This offended posture gave William a better look at her enchanting profile, but he could not resist provoking another flash from