“And stop worrying that he won’t notice your other things. Men always notice things, particularly a lady’s things, though they’ll pretend not to, at least overtly, since they’re supposed to be gentlemen, at least around ladies.”
This monologue left the Duchess momentarily deprived of words. “I understand, Maggie,” she said at last. “Thank you.”
Maggie beamed at her and patted her own hair, all done up this morning in those impossible little ringlets on each side of her face that did indeed look quite alluring on her. “Now, you go downstairs and have breakfast.”
* * *
Badger was waiting for her in the breakfast room, a smallish nearly circular room that was filled with bright sunlight pouring in through the big windows that faced toward the east of the house. The table wasn’t large enough for all the relatives currently descended upon Chase Park and she imagined they’d dined in the formal dining room. She was thankfully alone. She could see through the lime, maple, and oak trees and the thick well-trimmed bushes to the stables.
“You are pale and too thin. Eat this porridge, it’s from a Scots recipe and I made it myself.”
She allowed him to seat her and eyed the steaming oats before her. “I hate porridge, Badger. I’m not thin. It’s this silly little girl’s gown that makes me look unsatisfactory.”
He frowned and said, “I forgot. You’ve hated it since you were a little nit. All right, here are some sweet scones. Eat those. You look quite satisfactory, believe me, even in that virgin’s gown. Some kidneys?”
“No thank you. Mrs. Gooseberry allowed you into her kitchen? I know how I look, Badger, in short, ridiculous.”
“I believe his lordship asked Mrs. Gooseberry to take a nice vacation early this morning. I am now in charge of the kitchens. There are two other cooks and I will direct them if I don’t wish to prepare the dishes myself. I am, I told his lordship, still your valet and my first duties are to you. He got that stubborn look on his face, but I’ll say this for him, he did manage to hold on to his temper. You look like a tender pullet in that gown and that’s how his lordship better treat you.”
“The scones are delicious, Badger. His lordship will always do just as he pleases. You can’t change him. I’m not a chicken, tender or otherwise.”
“Exactly. Now that you’ve taken a nice bite of that scone, chew it. That’s it. Mr. Spears and I will attempt to change him if it becomes necessary. Now, tell me what happened. Mr. Spears is most worried because his lordship was being snappish and rude to him—”
“Yes, I know. Marcus told Spears to go—oh yes, to go bugger himself.”
Badger looked shocked, his eyes nearly crossing. “You can’t know what that means.”
“Well, no, but it can’t be very nice, considering it’s from Marcus and he was quite put out.”
“I won’t tell you. Just never say it again, all right? Now, tell me what happened.”
She took another bite of scone and nearly choked on it. “I can’t, Badger. Really, it’s very personal.”
“He didn’t hurt you again, did he?”
“He never really hurt me before. He didn’t hurt me, no. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
“Ah. How very strange. Or is it? Hmmm, I must think about this. Good God, you’re blushing. You, the Duchess—who can freeze the wart off a face with just a look.”
“Badger, it’s true, you’re more my father than my real father ever was, but surely you must realize that such references embarrass me to my toes. And I’m not cold, please, I’m not, truly.”
“Yes, I can see that I could possibly make you feel uncomfortable. I’ll tell Mr. Spears not to worry. I’ll also tell him that you won’t say such things as ‘bugger’ ever again. Duchess, you will tell me if his lordship does anything that is, well, beyond what a gentleman should do?”
“I don’t know,” she said, looking suddenly quite interested. She was wondering what that beyond could possibly entail. She’d become something last night she didn’t know was possible, or perhaps if one called a spade a spade, she’d simply been loose as a tart. Maybe she was indeed a tart. How could she find out what she was? She looked at Badger, knowing she couldn’t ask him, she’d die of embarrassment. Somehow she couldn’t see asking Aunt Gweneth either. She could just see herself saying in a very calm voice that she’d lost all control, all desire to control. She’d nearly burst with pleasure.
What was this beyond business? What else could there be? He could stay with her, hold her close and kiss her and fall asleep with her, but she knew deep down it wasn’t that. She wanted to know very much.
“Meet me in that small morning room that you like, Duchess, and we will plan the menus for the week. I’ve a fancy to try my hand at some of those Frog dishes. Their filet de truite poché à la sauce aux capres wasn’t bad, was it?”
“Ah, yes, the trout with capers.”
“And I shan’t forget the pommes-noisettes.”
“No, it would never do to forget the potato balls.”
He grinned at her. “And perhaps some asperges tendres à la sauce Bernaise. Yes, that’s it. Twenty minutes?”
She nodded. He patted her shoulder and took himself back to the kitchen.