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The duke regarded her with raised eyebrows. “Mother, I haven’t seen you at the breakfast table in quite a while.”
The woman dismissed him with a flick of her fingers. “I rose early and decided to join the family.” She turned her attention to Merry, ignoring Penrose’s stare.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m Miss Chambers.”
“I am Dowager Duchess of Penrose, and I am delighted to meet you.” She cast a bright smile and glanced in the direction of the duke who regarded her through slitted eyes.
The dowager was pale where Penrose was dark, her features striking rather than pretty. The enthusiasm in her expression brought beauty to her face. A light fragrance had emanated from her as she’d moved from the door to her seat, settling in comfortably. After what Merry had witnessed of the duke thus far, it was hard to reconcile this woman as his mother.
Merry sighed in relief. At least the entire family wasn’t as arrogant as the duke. “And it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.”
“Ho. It appears our little governess has deigned to join us this morning.” A man, perhaps a few years younger than the duke, but bearing him a striking resemblance nevertheless, strode into the room. He stopped before Merry, bowed slightly before taking her hand, and raising it slowly to his mouth as he stared into her eyes, kissed it. “I am Lord Brandon Worthington, brother, and unworthy heir apparent, to Penrose. At your service.” He winked at her and moved to the sideboard to fill his plate.
“Another surprise visit at the breakfast table,” Penrose mumbled.
“My dear,” the young man spoke as he took the chair next to Merry, “I am delighted you are with us. You must tell me all about America. Is it true the savages run amok, killing people at will?”
Her smile vanished. The misconceptions she’d run into during her years in England amazed her. She thought of Boston, with its maze of streets, hundreds of shops, as much a bustling city, if perhaps a bit smaller, than London.
“No, my lord, the savages do not kill at random. In fact, I come from Boston, which is a thriving city, even more so since we drove out your Redcoats.”
The duke’s head jerked up, his lips tightening. Lord Brandon choked on a bit of food, and the dowager duchess grinned.
“Miss Chambers, you are indeed a breath of fresh air,” the dowager said, patting her lips with a serviette. “I shall enjoy meals all the more in the days to come.”
“When you are through entertaining my family, perhaps you will join me in the library?” The duke addressed Merry as he stood, and then turned on his heel, not waiting for her reply.
Indeed, why would he wait for my response?
Merry decided to eat her breakfast as slowly as possible.
Kitty’s gaze followed her son as he left the room. Yes, the young woman definitely affected him. For years she’d watched him view the world from his self-imposed tower. Women had fallen at his feet practically since he was out of leading strings. He’d treated them all the same. With respect, and a bit of condensation. The mamas of unmarried ton daughters chased him down shamelessly, which resulted in his avoidance of London during the Season.
She noted Miss Chambers and Lord Brandon as they conversed about horses, which apparently Miss Chambers was quite knowledgeable about. The girl was very pretty. Soft blond curls resting against her face brought creaminess to her skin. A light blush on her cheeks and full red lips gave her just enough color. Her son could certainly do a lot worse.
Once Lady Eleanor had surprised them all, and accepted Bedford years ago, Penrose had taken himself off the market, and named Lord Brandon as his heir. Kitty was never sure if Penrose’s feelings were so engaged, or his pride merely stung. Her son didn’t like to lose. And when he’d told her younger son he expected him to marry and produce the heirs to the dukedom, Kitty had been enraged.
As much as she loved both her offspring, Brandon did not possess a single attri
bute to be a duke. Penrose was born and bred into the role, and only his son would be an acceptable heir. But her stubborn eldest refused to listen to reason, and instead attempted to make Brandon into the sort of man he could never be. This American woman might very well be his unknown salvation, and Kitty’s dream come true.
Penrose needed to be shaken up, challenged. Everyone deferred to him, did his bidding without thought. As lovely as Lady Eleanor had been, she would never have been an acceptable mate for him. Too blasé and conciliatory, he would have despised her weakness after a few years.
But this woman, who apparently had a mind of her own, would have him dancing to her tune. Not right away, of course. Arrogance was too deeply bred in her son for a sudden change. But change he would.
“We shall arrange for a mount while you are visiting us.” Brandon wiped his mouth and leaned back in his chair.
“Oh, thank you, but I need to spend my time here with the girls.”
“The duke has hired another governess, I understand, which should leave you with quite a bit of free time.”
“I certainly appreciate the offer, Lord Brandon, but if I’m to help the girls with the transition to a new governess, I won’t have time for much else.”
He shrugged. “Nonsense. Even though my older brother is an ogre, I doubt even he would object to you taking a half hour or so to ride. We shall plan to venture out each morning before breakfast. Certainly he doesn’t expect you to begin your duties at the crack of dawn.”
“If I am able to obtain his permission, I will be more than happy to accompany you on a ride.”
Kitty regarded them with pursed lips.
