The Naked Duke. Sally MacKenzie
know,” James teased. “At least I hope you know. I’d hate to think I’ve wasted vast sums of money on your governess.”
Lizzie frowned and flushed slightly. “I didn’t mean any offense, Miss Hamilton.”
“No indeed. And you must call me Sarah. I confess that this is my first journey outside Philadelphia, so perhaps you can help me get adjusted to England. I’ve already told your brother that I find English titles very confusing.”
“And vexing,” James put in. Sarah smiled.
“I shall try to conform, no matter how much it goes against the grain, my grace.”
Lizzie giggled. “It’s your grace.”
“What’s your grace?” Sarah asked.
Lizzie laughed harder. “Who’s ‘your grace.’ James. He’s ‘your grace.’”
Sarah felt even more mystified. “Isn’t that what I said?”
James laughed. “What my sister is trying to say, Sarah, is that the proper form of address for a duke is ‘your grace,’ not ‘my grace.’”
“Why? Didn’t you tell me I could call you ‘my grace’?” Sarah thought back over that conversation and blushed. Perhaps that wasn’t quite what James had meant. “I don’t understand,” she said. “I’m supposed to say ‘my lord,’ aren’t I?”
James nodded.
“So why not ‘my grace’?”
“You wouldn’t address the king as ‘my majesty,’ Sarah,” Lizzie said, “but as ‘your majesty.’”
“I address God as ‘my God.’ Is a king or a duke of higher rank than the Almighty?”
“Some would like to think so,” James said, chuckling. He put up a hand as Sarah drew breath to argue. “But, I hasten to add I am not among their number, so you can lower your republican hackles. Now, shall we go in and get you settled?” He took her arm and started walking toward the door.
“Is Sarah staying with us, James? I don’t see her bags.”
“That’s because they are, unfortunately, at the bottom of Liverpool harbor. But yes, she’s staying here and going up to London with us for the Season.”
Lizzie looked surprised, but was obviously too well-bred to ask more questions. Sarah did not want to go into all the details, but she thought some explanation was warranted.
“Your brother is helping me out of a predicament, Lizzie. When my father died in December, he insisted that I come to England. We didn’t know that his brother had also died, and that Robbie was the new Lord Westbrooke. Since I can’t stay with Robbie, your brother has graciously offered to let me stay here.”
“He has?” Lizzie grinned, looking even more like her brother. “Well, I’m glad. It will be fun to have you here.” She glanced back at James. “You never said what you were doing at the Green Man, James. Were you carousing?”
“No, I was not! And even if I was, I wouldn’t tell you.” He nodded at the very proper, very elderly butler standing just inside the front door. “You weren’t worried about me, too, were you, Layton?”
“Of course not, your grace.” Layton bowed slightly. He had a thick mane of white hair and a very imposing nose. Sarah thought he looked much more like a duke than James did. “I tried to reassure the ladies, but Lady Gladys will worry.”
James shook his head. “I should have given them more reason to worry when I was younger.”
“I believe the ladies would say you gave them plenty of reason to worry when you were fighting Napoleon, your grace.”
They stepped into a cavernous entrance hall where a short, plump woman waited for them. The brown hair beneath her cap was liberally streaked with gray.
“Ah, Mrs. Stallings, we have a guest. Will you show Miss Hamilton to the blue bedroom?”
“Certainly, your grace. If you will come with me, Miss Hamilton?”
“And I’ll help you settle in, shall I?” Lizzie said, linking arms with Sarah.
James frowned. “Sarah might like some time alone, Lizzie.”
“I won’t be any trouble. You don’t mind, do you, Sarah? I’d like to get acquainted.”
Sarah looked at the younger girl. Lizzie was smiling hopefully back at her. It was an odd but welcome feeling to have her company sought. None of her students, even those close to her in age, had ever attempted to bridge the gulf between them. She was not sure she would have let them if they had tried. She had been too afraid of losing her authority.
“No, I don’t mind.”
“Don’t be a pest, Lizzie,” James called after them as they followed Mrs. Stallings’s solid form up the stairs.
Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Really,” she whispered to Sarah, “sometimes James seems to think I’m still ten years old.”
Sarah laughed. “I noticed. I envy you. I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”
“Here we are, Miss Hamilton.” Mrs. Stallings opened a door and led the way into a lovely bedroom.
“It’s beautiful.” There was a note of awe in Sarah’s voice.
The room was at least four times the size of her room in Philadelphia. The walls were covered in pale blue fabric, and darker blue swagged curtains and blue-cushioned seats framed the large windows that flooded the space with light. A delicate blue lacquer desk and chair stood off to her left while two upholstered chairs were grouped by the fire. A thick carpet, a geometric pattern of blues and gold, covered most of the floor.
Sarah felt like an imposter. This room was far too grand for her, but then James’s servants’ rooms were likely more spacious than her small bedroom at home.
“I’ll just send Thomas up with your things, miss,” Mrs. Stallings said.
“Thank you, Mrs. Stallings, but I’m afraid I haven’t got any things.” Sarah smiled slightly. “My trunk went overboard in Liverpool. All I have is this sorry dress on my back. But if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I would dearly love a bath.”
“You poor thing! I’ll have the water sent up directly.” Mrs. Stallings surveyed Sarah’s dress. “Shall I see if I can freshen your frock while you bathe?”
Sarah grimaced. “I’m afraid it would require a miracle to do anything with this dress.”
“Hmm.” Lizzie looked Sarah over carefully as Mrs. Stallings left. “You’re about my size. There might be something in my closet that you can wear.”
“Lizzie, I couldn’t borrow one of your gowns.”
“Why not? Do you like the dress you’re wearing?”
Sarah laughed. “No, it’s dreadful. It was never stylish, but after having worn it for four days straight now, I truly loathe it.”
“I should think so. My green silk should suit. My maid, Betty, can make any alterations that are needed. She’s very good with a needle.”
Sarah was tempted. She felt so drab, like a weed in a rose garden. Just this once she wanted to be a butterfly, or as close to a butterfly as a tall, red-haired spinster could be. She just wanted to match her surroundings. It had nothing to do with a certain handsome duke.
“Well, if you are sure you can truly spare the dress, I would be delighted to accept.”
“Good. And you must know that you can’t get by with only one dress—I am not counting that object you have on. We’ll need to have Mrs. Croft in—she’s the village dressmaker.”
“Lizzie! I admit I will need some new dresses, but