the plate, and the rest seemed to happen in slowed time. Fancy’s eyes widened as the slice arced through the air toward her; an instant later, cool cream and spongy cake pelted her in the face.
She sputtered and gasped.
His handkerchief already out, Knight went to her and began wiping at her cheeks.
“I’m s-so sorry,” Toby whimpered.
Through the creamy crumbs, Fancy managed to smile at the distraught boy. “Ne’er mind, dear. Accidents ’appen.”
“But do they have to happen every hour?” Aunt Esther said with an aggrieved sigh.
His eyes shimmering, Toby hung his head. He scurried to sit back down next to Eleanor, who’d remained lost in her book through all of this.
“Knighton, you are only spreading the cake about. I’ll take Francesca to her suite to tidy up,” Aunt Esther said imperiously.
Knight narrowed his eyes at his aunt. “For Christ’s sake, her name isn’t Francesca. It’s—”
“Been lovely to meet you all,” Fancy blurted, bouncing up. “And I would appreciate your ’elp, Aunt Esther. Thank you for offering.”
Knight gripped the cakey handkerchief. “You do not have to go with her.”
“I want to.” Seeing his grim expression, she managed a smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“Come along, Francesca.” Aunt Esther rose in a sweep of black silk. “Before we are treated to any further surprises.”
19
Later that evening, Severin paused at the door that separated his and Fancy’s bedchambers. He felt like an idiot standing there, paralyzed by indecision. On the one hand, he wanted to spend the night with Fancy. On the other, his aunt had cornered him in his study after the family supper, which had been tense even though Cecily had taken a tray in her room and Jonas had gone God knows where. As was her wont, Esther hadn’t minced words.
“You do not like things easy, do you, Knighton?” his aunt had said dryly. “Now not only do I have to contend with your wild siblings, I have your duchess to take in hand as well. She was supposed to help save the family name, not make doing so more difficult.”
He’d reminded his aunt that Fancy had been grateful and willing to take her advice.
“I suppose that is something.” Esther had given him a severe look. “Training her to be a duchess will be a monumental task, you understand. We will need the best of everything: a modiste, lady’s maid, elocution expert, dancing master, and so forth.”
“Whatever you need will be at your disposal.”
“What I need is a miracle,” Esther had harrumphed. “Short of that, I must needs rely on my good taste. Speaking of which, I want to speak with you about your manner with Francesca.”
“Her name is Fancy,” he had said through gritted teeth.
“A problem I am trying to rectify.” Sniffing, Esther went on, “Couples of good breeding do not live in each other’s pockets. People will make allowances for newlyweds but, in my opinion, it is best to begin as one means to go on. Francesca looks at you with stars in her eyes; while you might find that charming, you do her no favors by encouraging such a blatant show of emotion. She lacks sophistication and polish as it is. Do you want the Duchess of Knighton to be seen by the ton as a moonstruck ninny?”
Severin’s face had heated like that of an errant schoolboy being scolded by a governess. Yet he hadn’t been able to stem the reflexive warmth that flooded his chest. Did Fancy really look at him that way? With stars in her eyes?
A tide of guilt had swiftly followed. It was not fair of him to take advantage of his wife’s sweetness when his own damaged heart could not offer anything in return.
He had cleared his throat. “Of course not.”
Which led to his present predicament.
Esther was right. In good society, strong displays of emotion were discouraged, and excessive sentimentality was seen as common. The Hammonds, for instance, had always been self-possessed; their reactions to everything and each other had been pleasant and modulated. Imogen’s motto had been, If you do not have anything nice to say, then do not say anything at all.
Severin pushed aside the thought. He didn’t want to think of the past when he had his marriage to figure out. Things had seemed so much simpler when he and Fancy were on the road. Free from responsibilities, he had just been a newlywed groom with an itch for his pretty bride.
But they were back in London now, and he wasn’t just a randy newlywed. He was a duke who needed