A Duke of Her Own(23)

"You're no naturalist," Eleanor said.

"Then what am I?"

"A hunter. Poor Villiers."

Their mother appeared. "Eleanor, I'll thank you to use what intelligence you have and follow me to the carriage. At this rate, Villiers will appear before you, and Lisette will snap him up without a moment's remorse."

Anne leaned over and ripped the lace fichu straight out of Eleanor's bodice.

"What on earth are you doing!" Eleanor looked down. Without its lace kerchief, her neckline was shockingly low.

"Preparing you for the trip," Anne said, standing back and nodding with satisfaction."! must say, it doesn't seem fair to me that you inherited those eyes and that bosom."

"I don't see why I must display every inch of my inheritance," Eleanor retorted.

"Because you wish to present a delicious contrast to Lisette," her sister said. "Unless Lisette's shape has changed a great deal, she is less fortunate than you are. Think of it as a generous toss of corn."

"What?"

"The corn will draw the pheasants," Anne said with a wicked grin. "And then the hunters can take them down."





Chapter Seven


London residence of the Duke of Villiers

15 Piccadilly

June 17. 1784

Tobias had made up his mind to go to Kent with Villiers by hook or by crook. In the beginning, he had been happy simply to eat whatever he wished. But that paled quickly, and now he was bored.

The other children were babies. Colin was obsessed with learning how to read, and Violet had found an old doll that she talked to all the time.

The only dilemma was how to stow away on Villiers's coach without being caught. If he could just sneak inside, one of the seat cushions concealed a large box meant for storing blankets. He knew because he'd been cold on the way from Wapping, and the duke had thrown one at him.

But he would have to time his escape perfectly, before the duke's four grooms emerged from the stables.

After breakfast he strolled casually out the door. Likely, Ashmole would have seen through him, but he had taken care of that by asking Violet to create a diversion. The fire she had started on the nursery floor ought to keep Ashmole busy. She needn't have thrown Colin's book onto the blaze, however. He could still hear Colin's howls from the front doorstep.

None of the footmen knew how to treat him—as a child of the house, or as a by-blow? Their dilemma just made Tobias grin: he didn't give a rat's ass how they treated him, as long as they danced to his tune. A solitary groom standing at the horses' heads gave him a bored glance but said nothing until Tobias pulled open the door to the carriage.

"Here, you!" the man bellowed. Tobias stuck his head back out of the carriage and gave him a cheerful smile. "Just doing an errand for Mr. Ashmole," he said. "Getting a blanket he asked for."

"An errand for Mr. Ashmole?" He could see the concept slowly trickling into the groom's mind. An errand put Tobias into the category of servant. And that meant he could kick Tobias into shape if he wanted to. It was obviously a comforting thought.

"I like to help Mr. Ashmole whenever I can," Tobias said, ladling it on. "Perhaps someday I can be a butler just like him." He tried for a soulful look, which probably made him look like a sick calf.

The groom thought this over. Tobias could almost see him relaxing: if Tobias wanted to be a butler, well then he wasn't getting above his place in life. Much.

"Like to see you a butler!" the groom said, guffawing as he would at any beggar who expressed the same wish.

"I'll make it someday," Tobias said, putting on the brave and cheerful face of an orphan. "I don't mind hard work. That's why I'm trying to help today."

"You'd best get on with it, then," the groom said, waving him on.

"Could I do something for you, next?" Tobias asked. "Hold the horses for a moment, maybe? I do love horses."

"I could take a piss," the man said. "Bring that there blanket to Ashmole and come back here, smart-like."

"Yes, sir," Tobias said, pulling the blanket out of its place and trotting up the steps back to the house. 'Course, it wasn't a normal blanket. It was soft as a baby's backside, and trimmed in some sort of fur. Ermine or suchlike. He handed the blanket to the footman stationed in the hallway and told him that it was to be sent to the laundry.



"You shouldn't be using the front steps like that," the groom told him a moment later, as he handed over the reins. "Ashmole will whup you if he sees you at it."

"I think he said something about that," Tobias said vaguely, stroking one of the horses' noses.

"I'll be back in a minute," the man said, heading around the side of the building. "Mr. Seffle will be coming to drive the coach around the block again. Doesn't like the horses to get antsy."