Page 8 of A Duke in Autumn

“Surely there is more to you than that, Lady Eugenia?”

“Well, I can read four languages, but that is not exactly of significance to most people. And I cannot even paint well, as a young lady is expected to. My watercolours are rather lacking in impact, and I fail completely at oils. I have been instructed in every detail of running a noble household, but I cannot say that I find those duties especially entertaining. With respect to fashion… I am not such a fool as to attempt anything outrageous – I prefer others to be the first with a new style. I find fashions interesting, but primarily as an observer. And gossip… well, no, I have no interest in that at all. Does that satisfy your curiosity, Your Grace?”

Eugenia felt oddly exposed, as she completed speaking – as if she had just laid her life out before him and discovered, as she did so, that it was unutterably dull. Feeling defiant, knowing that he would likely judge her not worth speaking to further, she raised her eyes to his. Warm amusement filled their dark golden depths – which was not at all what she had expected.

“I am glad that gossip does not interest you. I find it tedious myself – and usually rather nasty in intent. And, after the glowing descriptions of their talents usually presented to me by young ladies…” his eyes flicked towards Lady Penelope for a moment, “I find your pragmatic dissection of your own capabilities rather refreshing. And, with the ability to read four languages, you will never be short of something to fill an idle hour – at least not in any residence which boasts a library.”

Eugenia had followed his disparaging glance in Lady Penelope’s direction, and had to stifle a most unladylike laugh. If he found her attitude refreshing, she had to admit that she found his equally so.

“Reading can, indeed, be a great reliever of ennui. Or an excellent tool for avoiding tasks that are unappealing. Although I do try to do such tasks in a timely fashion. But I suspect that I learnt to read other languages when I was a child, because it allowed me to escape learning other things.”

What was she doing? She was telling him things that she never admitted to! It had to stop, immediately.

He smiled that devastating smile at her, his eyes even more amused now.

“What! Even more admissions that Lady Eugenia is not always perfect? I am shocked – and delighted. I knew that there was far more to you than the image that you present. But I am in complete sympathy with you, on the matter of avoiding tasks which one finds unappealing. In fact, I will admit that, in part, I am in Bath because I am doing exactly that. My great great-aunt is far more congenial company than my mother, of late – disrespectful though it is of me to say so – for my mother seems to have become rather obsessed with discussing which young lady she thinks I should marry, above any other possible topic of conversation.”

Eugenia laughed – it slipped out before she could stop it, for his expression was so funny – a rather woebegone look of frustration. He regarded her sternly, and she laughed again.

“Oh, I am sorry, but your expression! I can quite see your point. Now that my brother and sister are both wed, my mother’s focus has become rather intensely directed at my own prospects.”

As if summoned by her words, Eugenia saw the Dowager Duchess coming in their direction, at a determined pace.

For just a moment, the Duke’s eyes met Eugenia’s in what could only be described as a conspiratorial fashion. Then he sighed, waving his hand to his heart in an affected manner.

“Ah, the sorrows we suffer to ensure the continuation of our family legacies. But I have the feeling that neither you, nor I, will make the choices that our mothers expect. Will my presence here set your mother’s hopeful heart into a flutter of assumptions?”

Eugenia stifled her laughter – her mother would disapprove – and nodded. Once she caught her breath, she spoke again, softly.

“It will indeed. But, if it is not too utterly forward of me to say so, far, far better you than someone like Lord Harper….”

He laughed then, and Eugenia felt a flash of annoyance – why were men allowed to do such things, when ladies were not supposed to? But she pushed the feeling aside, and turned to greet her mother.

“Here you are, Eugenia – you have picked the best spot of all, I believe.” As she spoke, the Dowager Duchess’ eyes went to the Duke, and Lady Annet half rolled her eyes at Eugenia, who quickly looked away, before the temptation to laugh overcame her. “And the best company, if I may say so, Your Grace. Everyone is here now, and I feel able to allow myself some quiet conversation.”

The Dowager Duchess looked pointedly at the Duke, whose face managed to remain smilingly impassive, although Eugenia was quite certain that he was repressing laughter too. He gave the Dowager Duchess a seated bow, and reached to fill a glass of wine for her.

“What would you like to converse about, Your Grace?”

The Duke’s voice was low, and Eugenia marvelled at his ability to direct his attention so intensely – her mother positively preened before him.

“Oh, perhaps anything but the fashion choices of those present today – the other ladies have already held forth on that subject extensively. Will you be long in Bath, Your Grace? Your great great-aunt seemed most pleased that you were visiting.”

Eugenia relaxed, and allowed the conversation to flow past her, as she nibbled on the various sandwiches and small cakes, glad that the Duke was there to distract her mother.

~~~~~

“But these are wonderful!”

Lady Annet looked up from the pile of sketches which were scattered across Eugenia’s bed, her face glowing with delight. Eugenia was torn between shock and pleasure at her words.

“You… you don’t think that they are too… daring… too scandalous in style?”

“Definitely not! Although I do think that, wearing one of these, you would have every gentleman in the room unable to look away, and every woman jealous. You should definitely have a modiste make up some of these.”

“I… I couldn’t. Certainly not in Upper Nettlefold. Mrs Merton may be a wonderful seamstress, but I just know that she would disapprove, and that she would tell Mother, who is one of her best customers!”

“Then have them made up here, in Bath. That way, your Mother will never know, until it’s too late. Surely she wouldn’t prevent you from wearing a beautiful gown of your own design?”