Page 21 of The Duke’s Sworn Spinster (A Duel and a Wedding #1)
Chapter Nineteen
A rcher decided taking his wife shopping in London was a successful trip,.
They sat together for a whole two hours without arguing in the carriage which, in his opinion, was a win for their relationship.
When he had stepped out while she was at the dressmaker, Archer decided to buy his wife a present.
After all, with what little resources she had, she had still done excellent work in the house.
After their return, he had to leave too soon to inquire about a business matter in London, so he had yet to give his wife her present. His composure had snapped from all of the travel, and he decided to return home early.
It was almost dinnertime when he arrived, and he patted his pocket for the umpteenth time, wanting to ensure his wife’s present was still in his pocket.
He emerged into the dining room to find his sisters amid an argument.
As he listened, he gathered it was not about any particular thing, just that they were simply snipping at each other, but before he could interject, Lydia gave them both a look, and to his surprise, they had the grace to look abashed.
“Impressive,” Archer said as he moved towards his seat at the head of the table.
Lydia’s eyes met his, and her face broke into a broad smile.
“Uncle!” Iris squealed happily as she hugged him. “Did you bring me a present?”
“Of course, I did.” He laughed, “Do I not always bring you home a present from London?”
She looked around him, and when she didn’t find anything hidden behind his back, Iris started poking in his pockets.
“Iris,” he laughed again, her tiny hands very ticklish as they searched his person, “I promise I have a present for you, but it’s one you have to share with your aunt, Lydia.”
“What is it? What is it!”
“Now, I’m curious too,” Lydia said. “What could it be?”
Archer scooped up Iris and set her down in her chair. She whined and groaned, trying to pester him into telling her what their present was.
Archer pulled out the envelope from his breast pocket and handed it to his wife.
“Ooh, how mysterious,” Lydia said with theatrical speculation. Iris leaped up onto her seat and leaned forward on her hands, desperately trying to get a look at what was in the envelope.
“What is it, Aunt Lydia?”
His wife pulled out two little strips of paper which confused Iris; she had never seen theater tickets before.
Lydia gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. She looked at the tickets and was almost brought to tears. “You remembered?”
Archer nodded. “I was thinking it would be an excellent opportunity to introduce you and Iris to the theater.”
“What is it?” Irisasked, squealing her head off until her face started to turn blue.
“We’re going to go see a play, my dear,” Lydia said and held up the tickets. “Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s dream. You’ll love it—there are all sorts of mischievous fairies and such things.”
“You mean we get to see people dress up and play? With makeup and everything?” Iris was getting overly excited to the point that her face was turning blue again.
“Yes, sweetheart, breathe before you lose your consciousness,” and Iris took it all too literally and inhaled an exuberant amount of air.
“Iris, don’t do that. You’ll hurt yourself,” Cora scolded.
“I’m just so excited!”
“Well, it’s not for until tomorrow evening, so you’ll just have to calm down,” Lydia said happily.
“Tomorrow!” Iris gasped and threw herself dramatically off the table and into the hall.
It was at that moment that Miss Boyd appeared. “For Goodness’ sake, girl. Stop flinging yourself about like that. It is utterly disgraceful behavior. You are not some kind of wild animal; it is time you behaved like a girl and not a feral cat.”
Cora and Juliet were already on their feet with Archer not far behind. But it was Lydia who got their first, striding into the hallway and putting herself between the governess and a trembling Iris.
“Miss Boyd, how dare you speak to my niece in that way. She is a child. And she is excited about going to the theater.” Lydia towered over the severe looking woman.
“With all due respect, Your Grace,” Miss Boyd sneered, “you are not the one I answer to. I know my business and you do not.”
“That is the Duchess you are speaking too, Miss Boyd.” Archer strode towards her, watching as she flinched away from him. “And you would do well to remember that.”
“Your—Your Grace. I had not… I did not realize that you were back.” Miss Boyd swallowed.
“Clearly.” Archer’s voice was colder than the depths of winter. “Your services are no longer required. Do not expect a reference from me, good or otherwise. Now get out of my sight ,or I will make you rue the day you dared speak to my niece and my wife the way you just have.”
Miss Boyd’s eyes filled with tears, and she fled. Lydia helped Iris to her feet, and then Cora scooped the little girl into her arms.
Archer turned to face Lydia. “I owe you an apology. Miss Boyd is awful. I am sorry I did not listen.”
“You should apologize to Iris, not me. She has been telling you the truth of her far longer.” Lydia gestured to the girl who was crying into Cora’s neck.
“I’m sorry, Iris. I promise, the next time I will listen to you.” He stroked her forehead and then frowned. “You feel a little warmer than usual; are you feeling all right?”
Iris nodded and let out a small cough. “I’m okay. I’m just a little tired.”
Archer’s eyes met Lydia’s, and he saw the same fear that he felt reflected in them. Iris was never tired.