Page 20 of A Pure Lady for the Broken Duke

“Of course, I do. What of it?” Mother asked.

Claudia glanced at Jenny for support.

“Claudia wants to ask him to dinner. It seems they have an interest in each other, and she wants him to meet the family,” Jenny said to get the agony over with.

Mother looked stunned. “Jeremiah?” Then she thought about it a moment and wagged her head. “He seems like a nice lad. And with his father being the vicar… Well, I do not see why not. But I shall have to speak to your father first. After all…”

Claudia smiled. “Oh, thank you. When can I say he might come over?”

“As I said, let me speak to your father first.” Mother threw her hands in the air. “I do not know. Daughters? Why do I have so many daughters? Boys are never this much trouble.” Then she left the room.

“Oh, thank you, dear sister. I never understand how you can be so brave. I never thought she would agree,” Claudia said holding Jenny’s hand.

“Oh, my dear, it was nothing. It is just a dinner invitation, not the Spanish Armada.”

“But, just the same…” Claudia then asked, “Tell me about your Evan? He seems ever so nice. How did you meet?”

“His parents sell fruit at the market. I always buy from them, and he is visiting, so we spoke.”

“How romantic,” Claudia sighed.

Jenny could not admit to that as of yet and said, “We shall see. He lives far away, and we have only spoken a few times.”

“But he is so handsome… and such a gentleman.”

“My darling sister, there is more to a marriage than that.”

“You can be very cold-hearted, Jenny Barnett,” Claudia said with a pout.

Jenny laughed and patted Claudia’s hand. “But you are only seventeen.”

Claudia sighed. “You say that like it is a problem.”

“Not a problem, but believe me, as you grow older, things will look differently to you than they do now.”

Claudia stood. “Oh, I hope I never become cynical like you.” And she flounced out the room.

Chapter 8

Helena was finally able to arrange a meeting with George for tea at her Aunt Rosemary’s. It had been two days since she had had her tête-à-tête with Thomas, and she was bursting to discuss the latest developments.

She arrived early at her aunt’s, and George had not yet arrived. She was ushered into the drawing room where Aunt Rosemary was seated smoking a pipe with her feet up on an ottoman.

Rosemary had lived in Morocco for many years when she was married to Sebastian Broadbent, the Deputy Counsel for the British Ambassador to the Moroccan Kingdom.

“Helena, your Georgie has not yet arrived,” Aunt shouted out as she was a little hard of hearing, though she would not admit to such a fact.

“Auntie, I know I am early, but I have been in such a tizzy ever since my meeting with His Grace.”

“How is the old Duke?” Rosemary asked.

“Aunt, you know the old Duke has been dead these past seven or eight years. I am talking about Thomas, the new Duke.”

“Ah, yes, I believe you told me that before. But I liked the old man. He had a wicked sense of humor and he was rather free with the ladies, if you get my meaning.”

Helena adored her dotty aunt. “Yes, I do. And you should be ashamed of yourself for bringing the subject up. It is disrespectful.”

“Well, it was only a brief dalliance. I never cared for his rather fishy breath. Put me off, and I never got over it. And, do you know, he had a webbed foot.” She seemed reluctant to go into the details. “But it made him a great swimmer, I understand.”