Eliza went to get her usual breakfast—porridge and pears. “She can be forgiven that. We are all on edge these days, with Papa going back to his old ways.” She made a tsking noise. “Those poor little lads. The new Lady Holtbury must be breeding. Otherwise, Papa wouldn’t be so blatant about his indiscretions.”
“We don’t know anything for sure,” Diana said. “For now, it’s just gossip.”
“Perhaps,” Verity said. “But he was seen in the company of Harriette Wilson.”
“Half of London has been seen in her company,” Diana said. “That means nothing.”
“If you say so,” Eliza said.
Diana suppressed the irritated remark that came to her lips. She did not like having the duke’s “if you say so” thrown at her again, even by her beloved sister. “Glad we’ve settled that. We need to turn our attention to our plans for the day.”
As they lingered over breakfast, they discussed what to tackle first. Obviously, they should focus on Lady Rosabel and her clothing. Diana pointed out that Mrs. Brookhouse would need little improvement because she was still in mourning and couldn’t change much of her current attire anyway. The woman had also impressed all three of them with her ladylike behavior, so, assuming they saw nothing glaring during their time at Grenwood House today, there would be little need to advise her on her manners.
“But what are we to do about the duke?” Verity asked. “He can’t go about cursing as he does. And his clothing . . .”
They all sighed together.
“The problem is,” Diana said, “he doesn’t take direction well.”
“As we all noticed yesterday,” Eliza said. “But you must admit he’s one fine-looking fellow. That goes a long way with the ladies in society, who might be predisposed to overlook his language for the pleasure of gazing at him.”
“It won’t be a pleasure if he continues to dress badly,” Diana pointed out.
“He definitely needs a better tailor,” Verity agreed.
A short while later, when they headed off to Grenwood House with their marching orders, Diana couldn’t settle her pulse. The thought of seeing the duke again, of sparring with the duke again, had her overheated. She tried envisioning the gowns she might design for Lady Rosabel, but all she could think of was what outrageous remarks Grenwood might make today.
Then they came to the drive in front of Grenwood House, which was located down a side road across from the Hyde Park Barracks.
“It is quite a bit larger than I would have expected a bachelor’s house to be,” Verity said. They turned down the drive to discover it had acres of pleasure gardens and a house befitting a duke. Like some of the wealthiest lords, his abode in town was similar to abodes out of town for lesser lords.
Already her mind was leaping ahead to how they could use the pleasure gardens to good effect for Rosy’s intimate dinner entertainment. She pointed out to her sisters where they might place a small band of musicians to allow for some dancing outside. They could even dine outside, assuming the weather was fine. Why not? Wouldn’t that be splendid?
She couldn’t wait to see what the duke thought of her idea. So she was vastly disappointed when they discovered he had left early and would not return for some time.
It wasn’t as if she’d expected him to join them on a trip to a dressmaker, but she hadn’t not expected it either. He was refreshingly unpredictable, which wasn’t true of any other man she’d ever met. Besides, she’d been looking forward to suggesting clothes to complement his . . . robust build. But perhaps he would return before they left late in the afternoon.
She had no more time to think about the Almighty Grenwood, because she and her sisters were instantly shown into the drawing room, where Lady Rosabel and Mrs. Brookhouse were waiting. The two ladies were eager to start the tasks at hand. “Lady Rosabel—” Diana began.
“Oh, do please call me Rosy. Everyone does.”
Verity started to laugh, but stifled it when Diana glared at her. Diana had half a mind to inform Lady Rosabel that she shouldn’t be so free with her Christian name, but the young woman looked so eager to fit in that Diana couldn’t say a word of it. “If you wish . . . Rosy. And please do call me Diana.”
“And me, Verity.” Her sister shot Diana a smug look. “Oh, wait, I already gave you leave to do that yesterday. Silly me.”
Rosy beamed at her and Verity.
Just then a footman entered. “Lady Rosabel, you have a visitor.”
“Oh!” Rosy said. “I forgot to have the door knocker removed for today. Who is it?”
“Lord Winston Chalmers.”
That took Diana completely by surprise. Aside from the way Rosy lit up at the news that he was paying her a call, Winston was also her and her sisters’ second cousin.
Diana was about to reveal that to the Brookhouse ladies when Mrs. Brookhouse said to the footman, “Didn’t His Grace tell the staff that Lord Winston is always to be informed we aren’t at home?”
The footman blanched. “I didn’t know, ma’am. Nobody told me. And Lord Winston seems very eager to see Lady Rosabel.”