Lord Sebastian's Secret (The Duke's Sons #3)(9)



Her old governess showed no sign of objecting to this scrambling introduction. Her teaching had always concentrated on books and ideas. Joanna had never been one to give advice about how to make one’s way in the world, and certainly not in matters of the heart. Indeed, she’d appeared to find the latter faintly ludicrous when the subject came up. Georgina looked from her to Sebastian and felt odd. She’d grown beyond her former preceptress in the social sphere. She only hoped she’d learned enough.

“How do you do?” Joanna said. She examined Sebastian with no more, and no less, interest than she might have shown in a new variety of plant.

He bowed. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

“He’s going to marry Georgina,” Hilda said.

“I know,” replied the governess. “What have you got there?” She examined the limp leaves Hilda held.

“Um.” Hilda gazed at the tired greenery. “Beech?”

“With those tripartite lobes?” Joanna shook her head. “You know better than that.”

“Oak,” said Emma impatiently.

“Correct. But you should let your sister answer.” The older woman picked a sprig from her basket and held it up. “What about this one?”

As Hilda gave an exaggerated sigh, Georgina touched Sebastian’s arm and led him down the path and away.

“Governess?” he said as they drew out of earshot.

“Yes.”

“Good they’ve got one.”

Georgina nodded and walked faster. She longed to resume their delightful explorations, but she didn’t want to discuss her sisters’ plans for their future. Not just yet. Cursing Hilda for speaking so soon, she hurried Sebastian back to his room and left him there.

*

Surveying himself in a long mirror once he was dressed for dinner, Sebastian felt that he’d achieved a good effect even without his valet. The castle servants had pressed the wrinkles out of his evening wear. His hair and neckcloth were well done. The image that faced him in the glass looked polished and confident, not at all apprehensive about going downstairs. He nodded, a gesture of reflective reassurance.

“We’ll be all right,” he said aloud. “We’ve brushed through stickier situations than this one.” He trusted his social address to get him through the meal, but he did wonder what further surprises might lie in wait in the dining room. There seemed to be a good deal going on that he hadn’t expected, or didn’t understand, and he didn’t care for the feeling. “Forward, Major,” he declared, standing straighter. “To the charge.”

He reached the stairs at the same time as the Indian gentleman who’d greeted him on arrival. Still in his long brocade coat and narrow trousers rather than conventional evening dress, the other man looked darkly elegant. He gave Sebastian another of his bows with palms pressed together. Sebastian acknowledged it with his own, and they started downstairs together. “I am Anat Mitra, as I was about to say when you so kindly rescued me from milady’s pets earlier.”

“Not fond of dogs?” Sebastian asked.

“I revere all creatures of the earth,” replied Mr. Mitra. “But these ‘pugs’ do not return my respect. They delight in… What do the English say? ‘Dogging me,’ isn’t it?”

“They don’t seem very well trained,” Sebastian said, memories of the two dogs plastered to his legs still vivid.

Mitra waved a graceful hand. “Respectfully, I would disagree, my lord Sebastian. I believe they are remarkably schooled for their purpose.”

Sebastian made no attempt to reply to this cryptic remark. He never did when people chose to be obscure. Responding generally caused more trouble than silence, he’d found. Robert might delight in lobbing words back like invisible tennis balls, but he always seemed to find three meanings in every phrase rather than laboriously puzzling out one.

They reached the great hall and found the family gathered there. Going to stand beside Georgina, Sebastian was surprised to see her younger sisters and their governess nearby, also waiting to go in to dinner. Informality appeared to be a hallmark of the household.

He was seated on Georgina’s mother’s right at the table, and delighted to find Georgina opposite him, giving him a constant view of her lovely face. Emma and Hilda occupied the middle of the board, with Miss Byngham and Mitra on either side of the marquess at the other end.

A squat, powerful-looking man entered with a tray containing a huge, glistening roast. From his dress and demeanor, Sebastian concluded this must be the butler, Fergus. He was followed by two maids with other dishes. Perhaps the Stanes didn’t employ footmen. He hadn’t seen any. Sebastian was relaxed and more than ready for sustenance when he noticed movement near his feet. Two pugs had appeared in a surprise flanking movement, and he was pretty sure he recognized the larger one from his earlier skirmish. Fortunately, the dogs were ignoring him. They seemed utterly focused on Georgina’s mother.

“You’ll have a good, big slice from this boar, I’m sure,” said the marquess.

Sebastian realized just in time that Georgina’s father was addressing him. “Thank you, sir,” he replied. He checked the position of the pugs. Still all right.

“A hunting party led by my gamekeeper took the beast in our west wood.” Georgina’s father smiled, his teeth square and white below his trailing mustache, as he wielded a large carving knife. “A real monster. I’ll show you the tusks later on.”

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