A Duke of Her Own(96)

"Actually, no," Eleanor said. Villiers's head swung up and she avoided his eyes. "His Grace's whereabouts are his own business."

"You'll disappoint the gossip lovers," Lisette said, looking back and forth between two pieces of foolscap. "Do you think that the winning orphan should be crowned in gold or with laurel leaves?"

"Gold?" Eleanor asked, still avoiding Villiers's eyes. "How on earth would you manage that, Lisette?"

"Well, there is an old crown in the west wing," she said. "It's locked up, but of course I could get it out. I think Queen Elizabeth left it here when she was on progress years ago. Something like that."

"Your family never returned it?" Anne asked. "You'd think that Queen Elizabeth would have missed the crown."

"Apparently there is some sort of letter she wrote in the library, asking for the crown back, but my ancestor pretended he'd never seen it. I'm due in the nursery to say good-night to your little girls, Leopold. Do come with me."

He looked down at his half-eaten partridge. "I'm still eating."

"You can finish later," Lisette said cheerfully, holding out her hand.

"Anne and I don't mind if you both leave," Eleanor put in, without being asked. "I'll just finish my plate and retire upstairs."

"Well, I do mind," Villiers said coolly. "If you must leave the table, Lisette, you might ask Lady Eleanor or Mrs. Bouchon to act as hostess in your place."

Lisette laughed, but there was a dangerous edge there, an edge that Eleanor remembered from tantrums of years ago. "Why on earth would I adhere to such stuffy rules? I don't run my household that way! It's time to say good-night to the girls, so I shall go. And I know that you want to come with me."

"I don't," he said flatly, looking up at her.

Her hand dropped.

"I wish to finish my fowl, and then I plan to have some of that excellent lamb that Popper has on the side table," Villiers said. "And after that I shall likely have some sugared plums, since I see them waiting as well."

There was a dangerous, trembling moment when peace hung in the balance. But then Lisette's face cleared and she burst out laughing. "You men!" she said, half shrieking with laughter. "You're completely worthless if you haven't finished your meal. I know that." She shook her head. "My papa is exactly the same. Cross as a bear until he's had his morning tea and toast."

"Exactly," Villiers said, taking a bite of fowl. "Do give the children my best."

"I'll tell them you'll be upstairs in ten minutes," she said blithely, trotting out the door.

"I won't—" he said. But she was gone.

"Popper," Villiers said to the butler, "wait until Lady Lisette has left the nursery, and then inform the children that! will visit them in the morning, just as I told them a short while ago, would you?"

"Of course, Your Grace," Popper said.

Eleanor allowed a footman to take away her sole, since it was rather salty to her taste, and accepted a slice of Milanese flan in its place. "That was awkward," Villiers said after a time. "Lisette has never cared much for eating," Eleanor said.

"Yes," Villiers said thoughtfully. "I, on the other hand, care a great deal for eating. You seem to share my preference."

Eleanor was instantly conscious that she was far more curvy than Lisette, and likely could stand to lose some weight.

"Do you suppose that the Duke of Astley will really return for the treasure hunt?" Anne asked.

Eleanor felt a deep certainty that he would. In her opinion, Gideon had gone slightly mad. He had always been so prudent and principled...but no longer. "Of course he will," Villiers said. "He's in love."

"In love," Anne said, as if tasting the words. "What an extraordinary concept for such a tiresome man. You know," she said, turning to Eleanor, "I really do owe both you and him an apology."

"I can't think why," Eleanor said, endeavoring to end the conversation the way their mother surely would have.

"I told you that the man never loved you enough, that he was a weak-chinned milksop. I was obviously wrong."



"Did you indeed?" Villiers said. "Interesting."

"As I said, I was wrong," Anne said, ignoring him. "The fact that Astley snapped back to your side shows that he does love you—is in love with you, in fact. How romantic." "Yes, very," Villiers chimed in.

Eleanor just concentrated on eating her flan. She had wished, years ago, that Gideon was brave enough to risk his reputation in order to marry her rather than Ada. She couldn't have asked for more than what he was doing now. If he appeared at that treasure hunt, and particularly if he showed a marked preference for her, the scandal would ricochet across the ton.