The duke ignored her pointed remark. “What else does dear Elliot say?”
“He will be here tomorrow, if you will send the barouche to Barroughby.”
The duke smiled. “Heaven forbid I should do anything to delay Elliot even more. Of course he may have the barouche.”
“We must have an especially fine tea tomorrow, too,” the duchess continued, and Hester noted that she did not thank her stepson for his acquiescence.
“Ah. So we should kill the fatted calf?” The duke glanced at Hester, a mocking expression on his face.
It was a peculiar comparison. Was he not the prodigal son, wasting his inheritance in indulgence and indolence?
“We really should have a party or a ball to welcome him back from Europe,” the duchess said.
Hester could not suppress her displeasure at that thought. She had spent too many boring and disturbing hours sitting against the wall, watching other couples dance, to think of balls or other such entertainments with any pleasure.
She realized the duke was looking at her again, and she quickly smiled. “A ball will be quite delightful,” she lied.
“It will be too much work,” the duke said firmly. “And too expensive.”
“I might have known you would begrudge us the pleasure,” the duchess replied peevishly. “You seem to have no trouble finding money to fritter away on your own vile pursuits, but when I suggest a ball—something we should have done long ago, as befits our place in society!—you are suddenly lacking in funds!”
“Expense aside, if I were to agree, who would make all the arrangements?” the duke inquired calmly.
“Why, I would, of course!” the duchess exclaimed.
“I’m sure,” the duke muttered. He glanced at Hester with a knowing smile that seemed to suggest he knew who would do most of the work if such an event were approved. Further, as the blood rushed to her face, she felt he sympathized with her. “That a ball will require much effort I do not doubt,” the duke commented to his stepmother. “However, if you are willing to take it on, I suppose I could find the funds.”
Hester addressed the duchess. “Your Grace, considering that the duke will surely be unable to dance, perhaps we should postpone consideration of a ball until a later date.”
The duchess looked at Hester as if she had proposed a beheading. “I understand my stepson is said to go hunting after drinking all night. Surely he will be able to manage a few short dances, for propriety’s sake.”
“Why, stepmother!” the duke said, placing his hand upon his heart. “I am so touched to think that you want me to attend. By all means, then, Lady Hester, we must and shall have a ball.”
The duchess shot Hester a black look, as if she had been the one to suggest the ball in the first place.
“I’m sure all the county will want to see Lord Elliot again,” Hester said placatingly.
Which, she realized when the duchess smiled, was the best thing she could have said. “Indeed they will!” the duchess exclaimed. “Everyone adores him!”
Not everyone, Hester thought. Not the duke.
“Hester, you must help with the invitations. Now, what day would be best?”
“Should we not consult with your son, Your Grace?” Hester asked softly. “He may be too fatigued from his journey to attend such a function for a few days.”
“Lady Hester is forever concerned about other people’s welfare, I see,” the duke remarked.
Hester felt herself blushing again and told herself to stop at once.
“I didn’t think of that,” the duchess said. “Of course, you are quite right. And we should have him to ourselves for a little while.” She laughed as gaily as a women twenty years younger. “He is so popular, he is sure to be invited riding and hunting every day, and he is so accommodating, he will never refuse.”
“Elliot never says no,” the duke confirmed before standing. “I believe I shall retire to my room. I find all this talk of balls fatiguing.”
“As you wish,” the duchess replied.
The duke bowed politely. “Your Grace. Lady Hester.” He turned on his heel and strolled out of the room.
“Did anyone ever have such an infuriating relation?” the duchess demanded when he had closed the door. “Really!”
“It seems a pity you need his permission to hold a ball,” Hester said nonchalantly.
“It is! Let this be a warning to you, Lady Hester, to make sure that your husband leaves you your own money, and not in the control of his heir. It is most aggravating, I assure you.”
Hester dutifully nodded as she digested the import of the duchess’s words. The duke apparently had complete control of the estate and the money. Complain as the duchess might, it was undeniable that the duke was generous, for only last week the duchess had ordered several jewels reset, three new gowns, several hats and five pairs of shoes. The meals at Barroughby Hall were inevitably bountiful and excellent, the wine the finest and the servants well attired.
“Now, whom should we invite?” the duchess said happily, resuming her usual seat on the sofa. “I suppose we’ll have to have Sir Douglas and his daughter.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Hester replied, fetching some paper, pen and ink, ready to write down her orders. Then she realized that the duchess was giving her a rather peculiar look. “Is something the matter. Your Grace?”
“You seem a little flushed, Hester.”
“The excitement of your son’s return and the ball, Your Grace,” Hester answered, hoping that would do for an explanation.
“Sir Douglas is not a very old man to have a grown-up daughter, is he?”
“No, Your Grace.” Hester gazed at the duchess, wondering what the woman was getting at. She usually spoke of Sir Douglas with undisguised loathing; this morning she seemed disposed to be gracious. Perhaps the news of Elliot’s return ensured good spirits. Hester certainly hoped they would last!
“He seems in good health, too.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The duchess said nothing further about Sir Douglas, except to put his name on the list, which soon grew to fifty families. By the time they were finished, it was the hour to dress for dinner.
The duke did not join them at the meal, and Hester told herself she was glad to be spared the anxiety his presence would no doubt have engendered.
“He is three hours late,” the duke said, nodding at the antique German clock on the lacquered table in the drawing room. Hester followed his gesture and tried not to sigh. The barouche had been dispatched, and the weather was fine. Although it was difficult to know the. exact hour
