The Wyndham Legacy (Legacy 1)

“You surely shouldn’t allow a servant such liberties, Duchess. Not only did he actually touch you, he was overly familiar in his speech. And he spoke French.”

“Did you hear all of it or just the last little bit?”

“Just enough, I daresay.” It was Aunt Wilhelmina and she looked primed for battle.

The Duchess said, “It’s a lovely day, don’t you think? I’m going for a walk. What do you think, Aunt Wilhelmina, a cottage bonnet or a small round straw hat tied under my chin by white ribbons?”

Aunt Wilhelmina frowned at her in frustration and chewed on her bottom lip.

“Or perhaps I could change into riding clothes. Then I could wear that adorable black beaver riding hat with the short ostrich plume. What do you think?”

“I hope you get tossed from your horse because you’re a bitch.”

“What? Excuse me, ma’am?”

“I s

aid, ‘You should be careful not to get lost and thrown into a ditch.’ ”

“Ah, certainly. That’s what I thought you said. It was just such a kindly sentiment that I was taken aback. It is rather early, isn’t it?”

“Why don’t you just go away?”

The Duchess just smiled at her, cocking her head to the side.

“I said, ‘Why don’t you go enjoy the nice day?’ ”

“Of course that’s what you said. Such kindness from a relative I hadn’t even heard of until Mr. Wicks told me of my father’s legacy.”

“Well, all of us wish we’d never heard of you, but we had, for Gweneth has written about you over the years. Everyone also knows that you married his lordship for the position and the money.”

“Everyone? Could you be more specific, ma’am?”

Aunt Wilhelmina settled for an elaborate shrug. “My dear son Trevor said it was so and he is very smart.”

Trevor had said that?

She managed to say calmly, “It isn’t true. No, ma’am. Regardless, I inherited fifty thousand pounds. That is quite a sufficient sum. It was Marcus who would have been hurt had we not married, not me.”

“Fifty thousand pounds! It’s unheard of to leave a bastard such wealth!”

“I wasn’t a bastard long after he left me the money. If you’ll recall, Aunt Wilhelmina, my father made me legitimate, something I beg you not to forget again. You become tedious when you continually forget things. It quite makes me yawn. It quite sends me to sleep.”

“The earl doesn’t like you. He married you only because he had to. He’ll take countless mistresses and march them all in front of your impertinent nose.”

“Well, that isn’t your concern, is it? After all, you will soon be gone, back to Baltimore, and I daresay I won’t remember anything you said.”

The Duchess left Wilhelmina Wyndham standing there, for once without another word to say or to reshape.

She met with Badger, agreeing to the menu he suggested with just two additions. “Remember those Roehampton rolls you used to make, Badger? Some of those, please. And yes, perhaps some salt cod with parsnips?”

He grinned at that. “Sorry, Duchess, no fresh cod, not today. Perhaps Wednesday night. I’ll have to send a lad to Stockton on Tees to the fish market. Now you’re certain those American relatives will like the jugged hare?”

“Oh yes, they’re not at all provincial. Do send the hare to the table with some red-currant jelly and string beans.”

He gave her a severe look. “Naturally. I have always used the old Lincolnshire recipe.”

In another thirty minutes, she was in her black riding habit with its epaulets, tight waist, and high black boots, the small black beaver riding hat with its short ostrich plumes set jauntily on her head. She went to the stable to ask for the sweet-mouthed bay mare, Birdie, she’d ridden at Lambkin’s suggestion two days before.