Page 26 of The Duke's Promise to Her Child
“Right,” he said. His right index finger drummed against the porcelain teacup, sending an occasional clang into the air whenever his nail caught the rim.
“On your own. Impressive. And you manage the household staff?”
“Well, the household staff consists of myself and my housekeeper. But I manage the house.”
“Only one,” he said. “Goodness, that must be so difficult. Your housekeeper must be exhausted — so many duties to tend to with just one person. The cooking, the cleaning, the laying of the fires.”
Helena waved a hand. “Oh no, she does not do all of that. I would never impose on her in such a way. We share the duties. I cook, and I know how to lay a fire. It is not difficult at all. I would be glad to show you.”
His Adam’s apple moved, and she felt the air change. Why? What had she done? Or had she done anything?
“That is impressive indeed,” he said, and drained his teacup in one large swallow. “I must say, I have never laid a fire myself. But it is certainly a useful skill to have — should all of one’s household staff fall ill at once.”
“It is. It is always good to be self-sufficient. My father taught me that.”
“Indeed. He sounds as though he was an unusual sort of man.”
“Perhaps it was because he wished for a boy. He also taught me how to fish.”
“Fish?” he said. “I have never been near the water.”
“Is that so? Not even an afternoon on the river?” She thought of Gideon’s tale and how he had attempted to make his oneand only sea voyage sound like a journey worthy of legend. She glanced past Jonathan to where Gideon was sitting in the far corner of the tea shop. This was their second visit to this particular establishment, and this time she was genuinely enjoying herself. They had arranged a rather more refined exit strategy than their last attempt, but she did not think she was going to need it. Their meeting, it appeared, was almost at a natural end.
Jonathan shifted in his seat and rose. “Well, Lady Vale, it was lovely to meet you today. But I must go — I have another appointment to keep.”
“Of course,” she said, and rose. She performed her most impressive curtsy. Technically she outranked him, being a lady to his mere baronetcy. She curtsied nonetheless, thinking it might impress him. He turned and walked out. Gideon, who had been keeping a discreet eye on proceedings, rose immediately and followed him.
There would be a period of debriefing and, she hoped, the arrangement of another meeting. She passed the time by sitting at her table and taking out the book she had lately been enjoying — she liked escaping from the real world into an imaginary one.
She had just turned to a new chapter when Gideon returned. She looked up, a smile on her lips, but when she saw his countenance that smile faded.
“Is something the matter?” she asked, as he sat down across from her. He looked as though he had bitten into an apple only to find it rotten at the core.
“He does not wish to meet again.”
Gideon had a bluntness about him at times that had all the grace of a cow walking on an injured hoof.
“What? But I thought we had a perfectly pleasant time.”
“You did,” he said, with a shrug. “He did not.” He placed his hands on the table and tilted his head to one side. “Helena, I am beginning to suspect that the difficulty we are encountering is not simply a matter of finding the right gentleman. Jonathan Pierce was recommended by your friend Lady Clara.”
She nodded. She knew this well. She had spoken to Clara only a few days ago, lamenting that she had now met five different gentlemen and not one had proved suitable. The first two had been Gideon’s fault, she maintained. The next two she had not particularly liked, though she had not particularly disliked them either. Of course she had not liked any of them as much as she had liked Jonathan Pierce.
Clara had suggested him, thinking he would be ideal. As it turned out, Helena was apparently the problem — though she still had no notion why.
“But we conversed quite agreeably. He appeared to enjoy himself for most of it. There were one or two moments where I thought perhaps he was not entirely comfortable with something I said?—”
“And that is precisely the difficulty.” Gideon said. “There were a great many things you said that he did not like.”
She could scarcely believe her ears. She sat back in her chair, allowing her shoulders to droop in a most unladylike fashion.
“What in the world did I say to offend him?”
He shrugged and held out one hand, counting down on his fingers. “For one, he thought you too formidable. Your ability to manage everything yourself is, in his view, not becoming in a lady. He said you had altogether too much address for a lady in your position.” He raised a second finger. “He did not find it ladylike that you lay fires and engage in fishing. These are not activities for a young woman of quality.” A third finger. “You told him you participate in housework. That is not what a man who wishes to raise himself in society looks for in a wife.” A fourth. “You told him you arranged the letting of your own house without the assistance of any male relation. That is far, far too independent.”
She crossed her arms. “Is there a fifth?”
“No,” he said. “Not that I can recall.”
