JORDAN Nicole (35 page)

“That was indeed true until recently,” Roslyn agreed politely. “But my elder sister married quite respectably.”

“Yes, I know. Lord Danvers has long been an acquaintance of my son’s. Are you accomplished, Miss Loring?”

“Fairly so. I sing and play the pianoforte well. I am proficient at needlepoint and watercolors. I am fluent in French and know a smattering of Italian. Oh, and I read and speak Latin.”

“Latin?”Her tone implied disdain. “Then you have at least one thing in common with Arden.”

“Yes, we can enjoy the same books. I consider that a chief qualification for matrimonial bliss, don’t you, your grace?”

The duchess’s mouth tightened, but Roslyn returned her icy gaze evenly. She fully comprehended the noblewoman’s goal in grilling her. The duchess was trying to intimidate her into calling off the betrothal. But she had no intention of giving her satisfaction by complying.

After a moment, the duchess took another tack. “I understand you also teach at an academy for young ladies. You will of course give that up immediately now that you are betrothed.”

“Regrettably I must disappoint you, your grace. My elder sister plans to continue teaching at our academy, even though she is now a countess, and I intend to do the same if I become a duchess.”

The Duchess of Arden looked angry now. “Do you have any idea, Miss Loring, what obligation you bear if you marry into this family? You have a duty to uphold our consequence.”

“I do indeed,” Roslyn said, keeping her voice light. “After meeting you, your grace, I have an excellent idea of what to expect. But I shall allow your son to be the arbiter of my proper conduct.”

Looking irate and offended, the duchess suddenly turned her attention to Drew, as if dismissing Roslyn from her thoughts altogether. “Your rooms have been prepared, Arden. You may join me in the grand drawing room at half past seven for a glass of sherry. You recall that I keep Town hours and dine at eight.”

“I recall quite clearly, Mother,” Drew said mildly.

“I will expect you to have a word with Mathers. She has been more insolent than usual this week, and she knows I cannot rebuke her.”

“Of course, I will speak with her. I intend to visit her shortly.”

He gave her another brief bow and ushered Roslyn from the room. As they escaped down the corridor, she let out her breath in relief.

Drew looked amused and perhaps a little relieved himself. “You handled that quite well. You more than held your own with the Dragon.”

Roslyn smiled. “She is not so bad, if you like haughty, bloodless sort of people.”

“I don’t,” he said abruptly, curtness returning to his tone. “Come, let me show you the library. I think you will appreciate it.”

“Who is Mathers?” Roslyn asked as he led her to another wing. “And why can’t your mother rebuke her?”

“She was first my nurse, then governess, before I was sent off to Eton.”

“Ah, Eleanor mentioned your old nurse. You brought her here to live at the castle when she became too infirm to care for herself. I take it the duchess doesn’t approve of your generosity?”

Drew grimaced. “No. It is a running battle between us, but so far I have won.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I threatened to make my mother move to the dower house if she couldn’t tolerate living under the same roof as Mathers. But of course she doesn’t want to reside in a place only a tenth the size of this.”

Roslyn laughed softly, and Drew found himself relishing the sweet, musical sound. She seemed to understand his sentiments toward his mother perfectly.

“So what do you think of the Castle?” he asked, pleased that she had emerged unscathed in her verbal parries with the duchess.

“It is very beautiful,” Roslyn said carefully.

“But you don’t like it.”

“It is not particularly…welcoming.”

“You noticed,” Drew said dryly.

“You don’t seem to care for it much.”

“No.”

He’d never liked living here, imprisoned by marble and mahogany. As a home, it was too palatial, too cold, too empty…the coldness due in large part to his mother’s presence, Drew was well aware.

He’d never thought of this as home, either, not since leaving for Eton at age six. And even after inheriting the title, he’d absented himself as much as possible whenever his mother was in residence, only visiting to spend time with his tenants and oversee his home farms, particularly testing and experimenting with the newest agricultural methods.

“Would you like to see the grounds?” Drew asked. “They are much more appealing than the house.”

“Yes, very much.”

“Then I will have mounts saddled for a ride this afternoon.”

“Does your mother reside here most of the year?”

“Except for each Season, which she spends in London. Otherwise she holds court here.”

Roslyn raised an eyebrow. “That must make the Season awkward for you both.”

“Oh, we don’t share the same abode, God forbid. I bought my own town house and gave her the house in Grosvenor Square. She lives her own life, and I live mine. It works much better that way for both of us.”

“I can imagine,” Roslyn murmured. “I begin to see why you don’t want to marry. You worry that your duchess will turn out to resemble your mother.”

Drew shot her a sharp glance before giving her a humorless smile. “How very perceptive you are, darling.”

They had reached the library by now, and Drew stood aside to let her enter. The room dwarfed the one at Danvers Hall, and Roslyn showed proper respect.

“Oh, my,” she said reverently, moving to the nearest shelf to inspect the various titles.

“The collection in my London library is actually much better. And frankly, so is your late step-uncle’s at Danvers Hall. These are only the inferior volumes because I ran out of room at my London house.”

“You callthis inferior?” Pulling out a book at random, she opened it. “I can tell that being obscenely wealthy has quite spoiled you.”

He grinned. “Wealth does have its advantages. Now if you will excuse me, sweeting, I want to pay Mathers a visit. She will expect it. I can leave you here or show you to your room so you can change into your riding habit.”

Roslyn looked up from the book. “May I meet her?”

Drew felt surprise, yet he saw no reason to refuse her request. “If you wish. Indeed, she has been eager to meet you since my last visit here when I told her of our betrothal.”

When Roslyn returned her book to the shelf, he led the way upstairs to the fourth-floor servant hall. At the corridor’s end, he knocked softly on a door and opened it when a craggy voice bid entrance.

Immediately his gaze went to the ancient crone who sat in a rocking chair beside the open window, basking in a stream of sunshine as she slowly knitted from a skein of wool yarn. His fondest memories of his early childhood centered around this old woman, and he regretted her pitiful state now—the stooped shoulders, the gnarled hands, the cane resting beside the chair. But it was the cloudy eyes that evidenced her near blindness.

Mathers canted her head, listening intently, then smiled before Drew said a word. “You came.”

“Did you expect anything less?” he asked, shepherding Roslyn into the room.

“Not from you, your grace. But I didn’t know if your bride-to-be would let you out of her sight.”

Drew bent to kiss her age-crinkled cheek and drew Roslyn closer. “Actually my betrothed is here with me. Miss Roslyn Loring, may I introduce you to my former governess, Mrs. Esther Mathers?” Before Roslyn could respond, he added, “Miss Loring asked to meet you, Mathers.”

“Did she?” The old woman sounded pleased.

“Yes, it raised her curiosity when I told her how you bullied and beat me when I was a snip of a boy.”

Mathers gave him a broad, toothless smile. “And did she believe you?”

“You will have to ask her that yourself.”

“So did you, Miss Loring?”

Roslyn laughed. “Truthfully, this is the first I have heard about your cruelty, Mrs. Mathers—but I expect you know that. I am happy to make your acquaintance.”

“And I, you.” She let her knitting needles fall to her lap. “Come here so that I may see you, Miss Loring.”

“Ah, no, Mathers,” Drew intervened. “You cannot treat her the way you do me, with no respect.” He smiled fondly down at her as he murmured to Roslyn, “I am still six years old in her eyes.”

Mathers’s rasping laugh was more like a cackle. “I changed his napkins and taught him his manners. ’Tis hard to think of him as a lord, no matter how grand he has become. So, Miss Loring, I hear that you teach at a young ladies’ academy. That surprises me greatly.”

“Yes, I do, along with my two sisters. Several years ago our finances necessitated that we seek employment, so we opened an academy with the help of a very generous patron.”

“And do you despise teaching?”

“On the contrary, I enjoy it very much. We instruct the daughters of tradesmen and merchants on how to deal with society…develop their polish and refinement so they won’t be quite as disadvantaged if they make genteel marriages.”

Mathers nodded in approval. “I hope your pupils are better behaved than this scamp here was.”

Her blue eyes dancing with amusement, Roslyn glanced at Drew. “Was he a terror when he was a child?”

“Not a terror, just mischievous, as boys will be. But I encouraged it since the duke and duchess…” She shook her head sternly. “Never mind my tongue. It is impolite to speak ill of one’s employers.”

“I would very much like to hear some of your tales of him,” Roslyn said, covering up the awkward moment.

Mathers reached out a shaky hand. “Will you come closer, please? I want to see what manner of woman my lad is marrying, and my old eyes are not what they once were.”

“Yes, of course.”

When Roslyn complied, bending down, Mathers reached up to gently feel her face. Roslyn stood quite still while the bony fingers inspected her, a little to Drew’s surprise.

A look of satisfaction spread over the old governess’s face. “You aren’t some high and mighty lady, are you?”

“How can you tell?” Roslyn said, smiling.

“Besides the fact that you had to earn your own way in the world? You allowed me to touch you. Some proper ladies would be revolted.” She turned her glance toward Drew. “I think she’ll do, your grace.”

“You can determine that on such short acquaintance?” he replied teasingly.

The old woman cackled. “Yes, indeed. I’ll wager it didn’t take you long to determine it, either.”

“Barely a fortnight.”

“She will keep you in line, I have no doubt.”

“I expect so,” Drew said amiably.

“So, do you love him, Miss Loring?”

Looking taken aback by the question, Roslyn hesitated, as if not wanting to lie. “I am very fond of him.”

“’Twill be good if you come to love him. There’s been no love in this house for years, not since he left it when he was a wee child.”

“That will be enough, Mathers,” Drew said quickly. “You don’t want to bore Miss Loring.”

Her cloudy gaze turned toward him. “No, but even if Iam boring her, she is kind enough to refrain from mentioning it. That warms my heart, dear boy. Only a special woman will do for you, and I have a feeling that this is a special one.”

He avoided looking at Roslyn as he lightly touched the old woman’s shoulder. “I won’t dispute you, love, but if you will you excuse us, I have promised to take Miss Loring riding.”

“Excellent! ’Tis a beautiful day with summer full upon us. You will like the grounds, I think, Miss Loring.”

“They are indeed magnificent,” Roslyn agreed.

With a final kiss to Mathers’s withered cheek, Drew took Roslyn’s arm to usher her from the room.

Their exchange with his former governess had been discomfiting for him, yet satisfying at the same time. Roslyn’s gentleness with the elderly servant was so different from his mother’s icy contempt. The contrast made him value her warm nature even more—and in some strange way soothed a little of the sexual frustration he’d experienced for the past five days, when he’d been unable to kiss Roslyn or even touch her. Being forced to bide his time had made him restless and irritable, not to mention aching.

But then, abstinence was not his strong suit, Drew acknowledged. Nor was patience. And he had to summon enough of the latter to get through tonight’s dinner with his illustrious mother.

But at least he could enjoy a companionable ride over his lands with Roslyn beforehand. Even so, he was careful to drop her arm as soon as he closed the door behind them, before he succumbed to the fierce temptation to do much, much more than simply savor her company.

Chapter Sixteen

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I would be a fool to lose my heart to him, but I am tempted more each day.

—Roslyn to Fanny

In sharp contrast to her icy meeting with the Duchess of Arden, Roslyn found the lovely summer afternoon particularly pleasurable, riding with Drew over the Kentish countryside, viewing his beautiful estate grounds and tenant farms.

He put himself out to be the perfect companion, even more agreeable and charming than usual. And yet she noticed a distinct change in him. He seemed less guarded now. Less practiced. More at ease. Morenatural .

And she saw a different side of Drew than she’d ever seen before—the serious, responsible, generous side. He took unmistakable pride in his holdings and obviously cared for his tenants, unlike many great landowners in England, who cared only about bleeding the land and laborers for whatever revenues they could provide.

As a duke, Drew commanded respect and took it as his due, yet there was clearly a measure of affection between him and his people. But then, Roslyn had expected as much after seeing him with Mathers. The way he cared for his old governess had warmed her heart.

Toward the end of their ride, she learned why he was so fond of the elderly upper-class servant.

They were riding beside a small lake in a meadow when they came to a cottage on the edge of a wood and Drew reined his horse to a halt.

“This was my favorite place as a child,” he said a little wistfully. “This cottage belonged to our gamekeeper and his wife. Mathers would bring me here to escape the schoolroom. We would make paper sailboats and float them on the lake and play pirate. Afterward she plied me with hot scones baked by the gamekeeper’s wife.”