Page 37

Her sisters giggled at his language.

Eleanor raised an eyebrow at the Duke’s choice of words while her mother chided her sisters. “I think we need to start with your language. It is highly inappropriate to speak so lowly in mixed company, Your Grace,” Eleanor sniffed.

Graynor rolled his lips and sighed through his nose. He looked at Charlotte and her two younger daughters. “My apologies, ladies.It seems I have a lot to learn about etiquette amongst High Society. Hopefully with Eleanor’s help, I will be more helpful in our pursuit to see you both with adequate husbands.”

Charlotte beamed. “Oh, Your Grace. Just you being here is already so helpful, but you couldn’t have picked a better tutor. Our Eleanor is the epitome of social grace and will be a great asset to your endeavor.”

Eleanor smiled. It seemed all her years of learning to be amiable and pleasant would be used for more than finding a husband.

Graynor looked back at Eleanor, his fingers were rapping on the table. “Is that a yes, Eleanor?”

She looked at his tapping fingers and tilted her head towards them. The Duke, confused, look down at his hands then back up to her. Realizing her intention, he stopped the movement.

A corner of her lips quirked. “It will be my honor, Your Grace.”

Graynor’s shoulders released. “Perfect. When shall we get started.” He picked up his tea and made a slurping sound as he drank.

Four sets of horrified eyes looked on as he continued to drink.

Eleanor dabbed her mouth with her napkin before settling it back on her lap. “I feel we should start as soon as possible, Your Grace.”

Graynor put down his cup and looked around the table. “I see. Well, if that is the case, I need to send some correspondence, so if you would, please meet me in my study after you finish.”

He pushed away from the table and stood. “Please excuse me, I’ll see to that now.”

As soon as the door swung closed behind him, the table erupted in girlish giggles.

“Are you sure you’re up to the task, Eleanor?” Sarah mused.

Charlotte swatted at her daughter. “Sarah, mind your manners. It must’ve taken great strength for the Duke to ask for help. We must not make light of his situation.”

Eleanor nodded in agreement. “Mama’s right, Sarah. This is a completely different world than where he came from. We must be kind and patient as he acclimates himself.

“Does that mean you’ll be nicer to him?” Beatrice looked up from her book.

Eleanor swallowed. Her youngest sister might not seem like she was paying attention, but she was more astute than anyone gave her credit for.

Eleanor nodded in concession. “I will not lie and say I have been the warmest to the Duke, but yes, I have decided I was not beingfair to His Grace and his circumstances. I feel that with my help, we’ll all be able to get what we want.”

“Marriage?” Sarah questioned with a look of doubt.

Eleanor nodded. “Yes. He’s right. It is time I pick a husband. And I think I have.”

Charlotte sat up in her chair with her palms settled on the table. “Do not toy with me, daughter. My heart simply cannot take it. Are you serious?”

Eleanor rolled her eyes at her mother’s dramatics. “Yes, Mama. I think Viscount Hountshire will make a fine husband.”

“Oh, I saw you two have a rather lengthy promenade around the garden yesterday,” Sarah chimed in.

“We did. Unfortunately, I do not think His Grace is too fond of my choice.”

Charlotte pouted. “I wonder why? Maybe he needs a chance to get to know him.”

Beatrice took a bit of her bread. “I don’t know, Mama. Didn’t you hear him?” She swallowed as she cleared her throat. “I make it a habit to know everyone in my circle,” she said while imitating the Duke’s low voice.

Charlotte bristled. “Beatrice, it is not favorable to mimic His Grace. And don’t talk with food in your mouth. It is no wonder he did not ask you for your help.”

Beatrice shrugged and returned her focus to her book.