Chapter Eighteen
Three days later, the Duchess of Northumberland returned home.
Harriet greeted her in the grand hall, and they both went to the morning sitting room while the duchess waited for her maid to unpack her trunks.
The older woman did look tired, and that could come from the time spent with her sister or her journey back to London.
As they entered the sitting room, a footman was placing a tray on a table just as Harriet had ordered.
“I have to admit it is good to be home,” the duchess said.
Harriet nodded as she began to fix two cups of tea.
She noted a plate of biscuits and once finished with the tea, she picked up the plate and the duchess’s tea and placed them on a table in front of where they’d be sitting.
Harriet then went back and got her teacup and sat down next to her mother-in-law.
“So, tell me, how are you settling in?”
“Quite well.”
The duchess picked up her teacup and took a sip. Putting it down, she picked out one of the jam-topped biscuits and took a bite before putting it on her saucer.
“You’re sure? The duke mentioned in one of his letters your mother came over, telling you of a party she and your father wish to give?”
“I got her handled, once I informed her she needed to postpone any plans she might have until you returned,” Harriet replied.
“She is quite persistent, isn’t she?”
Harriet rolled her eyes. “That describes her perfectly. We decided all these invitations to balls and soirees would be perfect for now.”
“Yes, they’re wonderful ways to introduce you and Lucien to society. Less stress,” the duchess said.
“That’s what we thought.”
Her mother-in-law picked up her biscuit and took a dainty bite. “How’s Lucien? Is the Prince of Wales still being so demanding?”
“Actually, no. He ordered two more cars, but he’s not as involved with them, and he sort of accepted the fact that Lucien cannot be there at his beck and call. Lucien’s partner has done well keeping the prince at bay.”
“Good, I’m glad. That man has such an ego. I realize he’s who he is, but he thinks of no one but himself.”
Both women laughed at the reference, which was true, but no one dared mention except in the privacy of their own homes.
“I pity his poor wife,” Harriet said. “I realize theirs is a marriage of convenience, but could you imagine having to put up with his actions in public? All the rumors, the other women, the parties. I imagine she has no choice but to look the other way.”
“At least she has children to help keep her mind occupied. Nannies or not, she is their mother.”
“Yes,” Harriet replied.
The duchess picked up her tea once more. “Have you gowns for all these balls?”
“I think I have one, perhaps two I’ve yet to wear. Otherwise, I probably need to visit the modiste.”
“Let’s plan on looking at what you have tomorrow and from there we can decide if you need a quick trip to have a couple more made.”
“That sounds like a grand plan. I look forward to it,” Harriet replied.
The duchess rose from her seat. “I believe I’m going to go upstairs and change my clothes.”
“But of course,” Harriet replied.
“How are your suites? Are they to your liking? If there’s anything you want to change, just let me know.”
“They are perfect. I’ll let you know if there’s anything we want to change,” Harriet said.
At the top of the stairs, they went their separate ways with the promise to meet again in two hours for a proper tea in the drawing room.
It was quiet when Harriet entered the sitting room of their suite.
She had planned on lying down for a while and perhaps reading, but Harriet noticed some new correspondence on the writing desk.
She walked over and picked up the four pieces of correspondence.
All of it was for Lucien, so she set it to one side.
Sitting down and pulling out paper, Harriet began to go through the invitations they’d received and put them all in order.
She wrote down which ball was first, who it was given by, and the time.
She’d told Lucien she’d do so as it would make it easy for them.
Once she finished, Harriet set the salver with Lucien’s mail at the center of the small desk and moved her list and letters to the left side.
Picking up a novel she’d started, Harriet sat down on a couch and swung her legs up.
It felt good to be off her feet. She never allowed herself time for things like reading in the middle of an afternoon.
Plus, if her mother had been around there was always something to do or participate in.
It forced her to find places in the house she could hide and have time to herself.
Areas her mother wouldn’t think of going.
It made things a little more tolerable and fun, especially since her mother didn’t think young ladies should have fun.
Winifred passed through Harriet’s mind for a moment. She wondered if she were still up to her shenanigans. It had hurt her at first, but once she realized Winnie was only in it to impress others, Harriet let it go. She knew their paths would cross again.
She realized Arthur and Daphne needed to be invited to, if not her parents’ party, some of the others.
Perhaps she could ask Lucien’s mother if she could find out if they’d been invited.
They had done so much when it came to getting her season started when her own mother decided her daughter needed some help.
Of course, if you were to ask her mother now, she’d claim it was she who’d been responsible for her daughter’s match.
That was all right. Let her mother have her own version of things. She and Daphne knew the truth.
In the distance, she heard the clap of thunder.
The noise caused her to look out the window.
The beautiful clear day they’d started out with was clouding over quickly and the wind was picking up as well.
A closer pop of thunder, this time with lightning right behind the thunder made her get up and go to the window to look.
Rain began pelting the side of the house, making seeing out the window impossible.
Another rumble of thunder followed immediately by a bright flash of lightning was enough to keep Harriet from taking another step towards the windows.
All she could do was hope the storm would pass and the rest of the day would be pleasant.
She looked around the room for a moment. She had nothing to occupy her time. No needlework or books here. She decided to go upstairs and get the book she was reading, as this would keep her busy until the storm stopped or until she finished the book.
As Harriet entered their suite the first thing she noticed was the fire had recently had more fuel added.
The warmth on such a dreary day felt good.
The book was in the bedchamber sitting on the night table.
She picked up the novel and had turned to retrace her steps when she decided to climb up on the bed and read.
She made herself comfortable in the pillows and pulled a small blanket over herself.
Opening the book to the place she’d left last time, Harriet quickly immersed herself in the story.
Despite her eyes feeling heavy, Harriet didn’t give in to what her body craved—sleep. She’d never had a problem with getting enough sleep before Lucien, but now, they stayed awake most nights doing things she’d never dared to think about until her marriage. Slowly her eyes gave into her body.
“Harriet, darling. You need to wake up and dress for dinner,” a very familiar baritone said lowly.
She cracked an eye to find Lucien sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand rubbing her shoulder.
“No, thank you,” she sleepily replied.
“Cook is serving Scottish salmon with that dill sauce you like so much.”
Still, she did not move. It was still raining outside as bad as when she’d first come in here. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s still raining, so don’t forget to bring a wrap. The dining room can feel cold and damp, especially on a night like this.”
“That’s nice,” she whispered.
“We mustn’t keep them waiting.”
“Who?”
“My mother and father. Remember, you and my mother had tea together?”
“Yes, I remember. She told me some scandalous things about you when you were younger,” she said.
It was fun to see his face as he scrambled to think of what his mother might have said.
He’d been quite mischievous as a child, so it could be anything.
Nothing threatening, just things like pulling harmless pranks on staff and family.
“Trust me, anything I may have done as a young boy reflects nothing about the man I’ve become today.”
“If you say so,” Harriet responded.
“Come on, Harriet. Time to get up.”
She sighed. “Very well, you win.”
“It’s not a competition,” he replied.
“Not if there’s Scottish salmon with dill sauce involved,” she giggled.
Lucien helped her off the bed. He kissed her softly. “I believe Rex is in the dressing room waiting for you.”
“Very well. I’ll see you in the drawing room then?”
“I can wait if you like.”
“That’s not necessary,” she replied.
She stood in silence as Rex, her lady’s maid, helped her out of the day dress she’d been wearing and into a forest-green gown.
The bodice and front panel to her skirt were a lighter shade of sage green.
Other than that, there was nothing special about the dress, which was something she liked about it.
Jewelry could easily be added to dress it up if she wished to.
Tonight, she would wear a double string of pearls her parents had given her for her last birthday.
Harriet remembered it well because her mother let it be known that she thought it was too extravagant.
She checked herself one last time in the looking glass before turning and walking to the sitting room where she found Lucien waiting by the fire for her.
“You look magnificent. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that dress before,” he said.