“Geoffrey, you’re not to speak of money, remember?” Lady Rosabel chided him.
“It’s all right.” He shot Diana a sly look. “I’ve already been deemed ‘uncouth’ and ‘boorish.’ One more cursed epithet won’t hurt me. What’s it to be this time, my lady? Rude? Crass? Utterly lacking in social graces?”
“Careful, Your Grace,” she warned, struggling not to smile. “Don’t make me reconsider taking you on as a client. Especially when you just cursed in the presence of ladies again.”
He cocked his head. “Because I said ‘cursed’? But you said ‘curse’ to chide me for cursing.”
“I used the verb, which is perfectly acceptable. You used the adjective, which is not.”
“Good God, woman!” he said with a roll of his eyes. “This is why I never wanted to go into polite society. You’re all quite mad. Good day. I’ll find my own way out.” He glanced at his mother. “I’ll call for the carriage and wait for you and Rosy there.” With that, he marched to the door.
But Diana was having far too much fun to stop. “If it makes you feel any better,” she called after him with great glee, “your use of the past participle for ‘curse’ was appropriate and not uncouth at all!”
He came back to glare at her through the doorway. “It does not make me feel better. It doesn’t make me feel anything at all. Feelings don’t come into it. To hell with you. And yes, I know ‘hell’ and ‘Good God’ are not suitable for society. I just don’t care!” Then, whirling on his heel, he left.
All of them froze as his hurrying steps sounded the entire way down the stairs. Only after they heard him leave through the front door did they burst into laughter.
“He’s such a man,” Eliza said a bit wistfully because she sorely missed her late husband.
Diana, thinking of Grenwood’s stalwart form, said, “That he is.” Then she realized they were eyeing her quizzically and blushed. “Because he must always have his own way, I mean.” And because he was nothing at all like the last duke she’d met, an old, bald fellow with scrawny calves and a roving eye.
Remembering the look in Grenwood’s eyes as she licked the tip of her pencil, she caught her breath. Perhaps all men had roving eyes. Then again, he might just have wondered why she was licking it. Yes, that must be it. After all, he’d made it perfectly clear he didn’t like her.
“That boy has had a mind of his own since the day he was born,” Mrs. Brookhouse said, her pride in the duke leaking through her words nonetheless. “He never let anyone but his grandfather tell him what to do, and even then, if my father was wrong about the engineering of something, Geoffrey would inform him of that, even at ten years old.” She swept her gaze about the room. “But Rosy and I should go. We’re probably keeping you ladies from your work. Besides, Geoffrey will wonder what’s taking so long.”
“I’m sure he will,” Diana said. And probably blaming her for it. Or wishing he’d never taken up with them. What had his sister called him? Almighty Geoffrey. Diana dared not call him by his given name, but the Almighty Grenwood sounded exactly right for him.
His mother and sister said their farewells and headed down the stairs chattering. Then, as she and her sisters always did after taking on someone new, the three of them headed to their private parlor that overlooked the square to exchange notes on their impressions of their new client. Or clients, given the bargain Diana had struck with Grenwood.
Verity went right to the window to look out over the street below, and Diana followed her. They watched the Brookhouse ladies make their way down the steps toward their carriage, still chattering amiably.
“Lady Rosabel seems promising, a diamond in the rough,” Verity said as she watched them. “As long as she can be trained to behave in society, you can easily turn her into a diamond of the first water. She has the looks for it, or she would when not wearing an awful gown, with her hair unfashionably dressed. You have plenty to work with, Diana, and you’re always so good at transforming ladies into their best selves.”
“Thank you,” Diana said, then narrowed her gaze on Grenwood, who’d jumped out to help his mother and sister climb in. “It’s him I’m worried about.”
“The duke is certainly not like other gentlemen, is he?” Verity said.
Diana could feel her sister’s eyes on her. “No. Because he’s not a gentleman, I fear. And I’m still not sure if that’s bad or good. Lord knows we won’t be able to control him. I only hope the great lout doesn’t pick up some suitor and toss him off a balcony for not showing Lady Rosabel suitable respect.”
“That I would like to see,” Verity said with a chuckle, “though I have no doubt he could do it. He’s quite an impressive specimen of masculine good looks, isn’t he? He could take on even the accomplished Gentleman Jackson.”
“I’m sure Papa would beg to differ. You know how he loves Gentleman Jackson.” A disquieting thought occurred to her. “You’re not setting your cap for him or anything, are you?”
“Gentleman Jackson?” Verity asked.
“Of course not. Grenwood.” The very idea alarmed Diana, for reasons she didn’t want to examine too closely.
Verity laughed. “No, but you clearly are.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Diana complained. “He’d be as bad a husband as Papa, if not worse.”
“Whatever you say.” Verity turned away from the window. “Is it true Grenwood promised to double our fee if you could get his sister five new callers a day in the week after her début ball?”
“It’s true,” Eliza said from her favorite spot on their comfy parlor sofa. “That’s when Diana dressed him down and said he’d have to meet her conditions.”
“Oh yes, that’s where I came in.” Verity took a seat beside Eliza. “So, what did you think of him, Eliza?”
“I think any man willing to double our fee is perfect,” Eliza said. “I can see why Diana has set her cap for him.”