A Duke of Her Own(78)

"Aye," the cook said slowly.

Villiers stood behind Eleanor, the truth of it slowly sinking in. Apparently the gruel Tobias complained of wasn't just Mrs. Busy's idea of a child's diet, but something of a purgative. Thank God, Tobias had taken care of himself.

Eleanor's face looked as if it were carved of the finest marble, as if the goddess Athena had come to life.

Mrs. Busy was no match for her. "I'll send them breakfast," she said, wilting.

"And every meal, as long as those children are here. If I hear that there is the least inadequacy, if you misplace an herb or forget an ingredient, I shall return."

"I shall not. I sought merely to curb the—the—"

Something in Eleanor's gaze warned against an explanation.

"I'll send excellent meals," Mrs. Busy said hastily.



"Good," Eleanor said. "Then I'll bid you good day, Mrs. Zeal-of-the-Land Busy. Oyster, come."

Villiers waited until she left the kitchen, because he didn't want Eleanor to feel that he didn't trust her success. Mrs. Busy didn't stir, just waited, with her eyes fixed on him. "My children are not an abomination," he stated, hearing his own cold voice and knowing there were few brave enough to endure the sound without flinching.

"That they are not," Mrs. Busy readily agreed, showing that she wasn't one of the brave.

Villiers turned to go.

"But you are!" she burst out. "Verily, I must say the truth and that is that thou dwellest in the tents of the wicked and feedest the vanity of the eye."

Apparently she didn't care for his coat. Or perhaps it was the embroidery that was spurring her censure.

"I am moved by the spirit to say so!" Mrs. Busy insisted.

"As long as the tents of the wicked are replete with the smiles of beautiful women," Villiers said, "I shall be happy."

"I shall daunt the profaneness of mine enemies," Mrs. Busy stated. "When sin provokes me, I shall not be silent."

"Sister Busy," implored Popper. "Cry you mercy, Sister Busy, consider your place in life."

"And while you are contemplating that, Mrs. Busy, you might include the thought that I may well marry your mistress, Lady Lisette," Villiers said. "In which case this house will become one vast tent for my wicked self. And then you, Mrs. Busy, will need to thrust yourself onto the sanctified highway because I may well bring all six of my children to live under this roof. In case you are wondering, none of the six was conceived with the benefit of matrimony."

"Six!" she gasped, falling back and regarding him as if he were the very devil himself. "Thou tellest untruths. No man is so rank in the face of the Lord."

Against all odds, Villiers was beginning to enjoy himself. "Are you gnashing your teeth, Mrs. Busy?

That's an odd sound you're making."

"Thou art a Nebuchadnezzar, a very Nebuchadnezzar, come to mock me!" Mrs. Busy said.

One of the pot boys giggled. "Sister Busy," Popper implored.

"I must take my leave," Villiers said with a flourishing bow. "Thank you for this charming conversation."

Popper ran after him down the corridor. "I beg your pardon, Your Grace," he said, panting.

Villiers stopped. "What relation is she to you?"



Popper rang his hands. "She's my sister, Your Grace. We were raised Puritan, you see, but she took to it fiercely, and then she married Zeal-of-the-Land, and I'm afraid that she became rather rigid. She needs this position. She has nowhere else to go, and Zeal-of-the-Land left all his possessions to the church."

"He left everything to the church?"

Popper nodded. "With a request that they say prayers for his soul four times a day for a year. Which they will, because it transpired that Brother Busy had acquired quite a large estate. But unfortunately his will left my sister destitute and in need of a position. Please, Your Grace, I know that she's a fierce woman. But Brother Busy's death left her soured."

"I can imagine," Villiers said, pushing open the baize door that led back to the foyer.

They emerged into chaos. Oyster was barking hysterically and running in circles, Eleanor was shouting, one of the footmen was chasing the dog, and Lisette was standing on the second or third step of the staircase, screaming. Into all of this rushed Popper, uttering useless admonitions in a shrill voice.

"Quiet!" Villiers bellowed.

Everyone obeyed him except, characteristically, Eleanor. She whipped around, hands on her hips, and said through clenched teeth, "Escort Lisette elsewhere before I do something I may—or may not—regret."

Oyster had dropped onto his haunches and was gazing at him in a rather charmingly attentive position, so Villiers raised a finger to the footman, who scooped up the dog. "Take him outside," he commanded before turning to Lisette.