When a Duke Loves a Governess (Unlikely Duchesses #3) - Olivia Drake Page 0,36
and thread out of reach. “I wanna do it!”
“You’ll prick your finger if you grab like that. First, you need a lesson in how to sew on a bead.”
“Don’t like lessons.”
Tessa curbed a smile at milady’s folded arms, tucked chin, and pouty mouth. It wouldn’t do to laugh when Sophy was in such a contrary mood. Yet she made such an adorable tyrant that Tessa ached to cuddle her close.
She knew better, though. Not only was Sophy in no humor for affection but Tessa wasn’t certain if it were permissible conduct for a governess, anyway. Since the duke had promised to make an appearance here in the nursery, her behavior must be strictly proper.
“Come, dearie, you do need instruction in sewing this headband. Stand in front of me and I’ll show you.”
Sophy sulked for another moment before thankfully sliding off her chair. Tessa turned the girl and put her arms around her to demonstrate the technique. “Grasp the needle between your forefinger and thumb just so. I’ll hold the bead while you stick the needle through it. Careful now.”
Though she guided the girl’s hand, Sophy was inclined to jab haphazardly, and Tessa was glad she’d had the foresight to wear a thimble. “Aim for the hole. That’s better. Now poke the needle through the cloth and pull the thread tight.”
Sophy concentrated on the task and her face brightened. “I did it, Miss James! I sewed all by myself.”
Though the yellow bead was cockeyed compared with the neat row Tessa had done, she praised the effort nonetheless. “Very good! Would you like to do another?”
Even as Sophy nodded vigorously, a male voice intruded from the doorway. “Good afternoon, ladies. I apologize for being late.”
Tessa’s heart took a wild leap and she turned to see the duke advancing toward them. She only vaguely noted he was carrying a picture frame at his side. Lud, he looked taller than ever in a formfitting chestnut-brown coat and tawny breeches that accentuated the muscled length of his legs. While window-shopping in the fashion district, she’d glimpsed many an elegant gent out on the strut. But none of those fancy lords could hold a candle to the Duke of Carlin. He had an indefinable quality that rattled her calm and made her feel alive to the core.
Recalling her duty, she arose and dipped a curtsy. “Welcome, Your Grace. I was just now teaching Lady Sophy how to make the beaded band that will hold the feathers.”
Carlin scanned the small wooden box of colorful beads and threads, leftover odds and ends that Tessa had collected over the years. Then he eyed the headband. “Very clever, Miss James. You’ve recalled the headdress perfectly from the picture in my study. Nevertheless, I brought this as a guide.” He lifted the frame at his side to display the watercolor painting of the rainbow-hued parrot feathers affixed to a beaded circlet.
“Look, Sophy. Won’t you like wearing such a pretty hat?” At the girl’s nod, Tessa added, “Your papa saw it during his voyage around the world. He can advise us if we do anything wrong.”
“I can certainly try,” he said.
Carlin propped the painting on the fireplace mantel for their viewing. He glanced at the miniature chairs, then opted to sit on the nearby window seat, where he folded his arms and watched as Tessa guided his daughter in sewing on several more beads. His imposing presence seemed to fill the schoolroom. Yet there was also a little constraint in his manner, as if he was ill at ease.
Had she been wrong to invite him here? Had she overstepped her bounds? No, it wouldn’t do to fret over that. He needed to spend time with Sophy so the girl would come to trust him.
“Perhaps your papa will tell us about the people who made the headdress,” she said leadingly.
“They live in South America, which is quite a long way across the ocean from England.” The duke went on to describe how he’d been seeking botanical samples in the rain forest just outside the port of Rio de Janeiro when he’d spotted a clan of locals, one of whom had been wearing such a headpiece. They’d kept a wary distance, and having no wish to invade their boundaries, Carlin had remained still while doing a quick sketch of the group before they’d melted back into the trees.
“I daresay they collected feathers from the ground just as you did,” he finished. “In the jungle, parrots are as plentiful as pigeons are here.”