that in mind, Fancy did not want to waste a single moment of the day. After taking the willow bark powder, she breakfasted, dressed, and threw herself into her daily tasks.
She didn’t know whether it was her positive attitude or Knight’s “lesson” that was the cause, but her session with Mr. Stanton went exceptionally well. When her tutor exclaimed over her progress with h’s, commenting that she must be doing the oral exercises he’d prescribed, her cheeks flamed. She was, nonetheless, thrilled with her success.
The improvements extended into her time with Aunt Esther, who was astounded when Fancy managed to recite by heart several distinguished family trees from Debrett’s and walked the length of the library with three books balanced upon her head.
The triumphs continued into luncheon. Instead of strained silence, conversation reigned over the table. It was led by Toby, who was over the moon about Knight’s promise to get him a puppy. He also chatted about the tricks he was teaching Bertrand. Eleanor, who’d been joining him and Fancy on their visits to the stables, agreed that Bertrand was a creature of singular intellect. She had decided that donkeys were vastly underrated due to commonly held prejudices against them.
To that end, Eleanor had started a club called The Society for the Equalization and Protection of the Rights of Asses, with Toby acting as Club Secretary and Fancy as Treasurer. The girl had even managed to rope Aunt Esther into being a member. Her aunt had agreed to join on one condition: Eleanor was not to bring books to the dining table.
A masterful stroke, Fancy thought admiringly.
Unfortunately, less progress was being made with Knight’s older siblings. Jonas, Fancy noted, acted bored throughout the meal and drank too much wine. To draw him into the conversation, Fancy asked him about his interests and possible professions he might like to pursue.
“A gentleman doesn’t work,” he said, aghast. “Unless it is an absolute necessity.”
“Knight does,” she pointed out.
“Well, my dear brother isn’t exactly a gentleman, is he?” Jonas said, sipping his wine.
“You will take that back.” Fancy scowled at him. “Knight is the definition of a gentleman.”
“No need to fly into the boughs.” Jonas set down his glass, his expression turning wary. “I only meant that he’s not a conventional sort of gent. Sons of dukes aren’t usually raised in London’s rookeries, nor do they own factories.”
“You ought to be proud that your brother made his own fortune.” Fancy wasn’t going to allow him—or anyone—to disparage her husband. “And perhaps if you found something to occupy your time, you would be less inclined to waste it on frivolous pursuits. Idle hands are the devil’s work, my da always says.”
“What do you expect me to do?” Jonas muttered, pushing a drooping wave of hair out of his eyes. “Ain’t much for a well-bred bastard to do but frivolous pursuits.”
Despite the lad’s defiant posturing, which all of her brothers had adopted at one time or another, Fancy heard his underlying insecurity. Like Knight, Jonas was the son of a duke, but he’d been born on the wrong side of the blanket. And that could not be easy.
Gentling her tone, she said, “It wouldn’t hurt to try to find something useful to do.” A kernel of an idea sprouted. “Why don’t you ask Knight to show you one of his manufactories? Maybe he could teach you about his business.”
“I’ve no interest in becoming a businessman.” Jonas gripped his wine glass, saying with a slight sneer, “Besides, Knighton thinks he’s better than the rest of us bastards. To him, I’m just a wastrel and an unwanted obligation. He ain’t got time for the likes of me. For any of us.”
“You have got the right of it, Jonas,” Cecily cut in.
Fancy stifled a sigh. It figured that when Cecily joined in, it would be to support a rebellion.
“Knighton just wants to sweep us under the carpet,” the girl claimed with a dramatic wave of her arm. “To him, we are less than dirt.”
“You two would be wise to show more gratitude.” Aunt Esther’s gaze slitted. “A lesser man than Knighton would not have taken on the responsibilities your papa left behind.”
“That’s true,” Toby piped up. “If not for Knighton, we would still be trapped in that musty old chateau with only that horrid governess for company.”
“Mademoiselle Grigeaux.” Eleanor shuddered. “I do not miss her canings, that’s for certain.”
The girl’s revelation distracted Fancy from the war with the older siblings.