“I gave him the evenin’ off,” he said simply and took the cloak from her. She jolted, but let him take the cloak all the same, placing it over one of the hooks near the door.
“We will need a chaperone,” she said tightly.
“And we have one.” He didn’t need to add he just didn’t want it to be his butler. In the corner of the room, his housekeeper appeared and curtsied to her. “This is Mrs. Philips.”
“Good day, my lady.”
Mrs. Philips was a woman he had infinitely more time for than Yates. Quiet and soft in manner, she reminded him much of his own mother, who would occasionally have an outburst of emotion when riled up enough. When Gerard had explained to her that afternoon that he would be having etiquette lessons from a young lady, she had seemed most excited for him.
“Excellent,” Charlotte said, looking between the pair of them. “If you do not object, Your Grace –”
“Gerard.”
“YourGrace.”She emphasized, though he could have sworn there was a glint of humor in her eye. “I think it best we start with dinner etiquette. What do you think, Mrs. Philips?”
“An excellent idea.” She bustled forward, rubbing her hands together. “I shall set up the dining table now for you both.”
“Thank you.” Charlotte followed her into the dining room.
Gerard thrust his hands into his pockets and slowly followed them, listening as the two women talked amongst themselves, planning the setup of the dining table. His eyes slipped from Charlotte to Mrs. Philips and their shared animation.
I wonder if I am doin’ the right thing or nae.
“Now, Your Grace. A gentleman should always come to the table in his dinner jacket.” She gestured to where he had rolled up his shirt sleeves. “And his sleeves should be at his wrists.”
He unrolled them and buttoned the cuffs, then found his jacket from the back of a nearby chair and pulled it on. As Mrs. Philips retreated to the corner of the room to watch from afar, Lady Charlotte stepped toward the chair at the head of the table where he was to sit.
“Now, take a seat.”
Remember why ye are doing this.
Gerard held onto this thought as he approached the table. If he could at least occupy a place in thetonwhere people did not constantly whisper about him, that would be something. The way to do that was to blend in a little more and not draw attention to himself.
He sat down heavily in the chair.
“One should sit slowly, delicately, not like…” She broke off, placing a hand on the table and biting her lip.
“Ye never like to speak out of turn, do ye?” He held onto his smile of humor. “Go on, tell me what I looked like. A great ape?”
“Well, you sat down rather as one throws a sack of potatoes.”
“Ha! Well, this is a good start.” He sat forward to the empty plate and cutlery, looking at them, but she gently took his shoulder and pushed him back.
The intimate touch made him jerk his head toward her. That touch had spread warmth through him, though she seemed not to notice what she had done.
Perhaps she instructs her siblings in this manner all the time.
“This fork is for your dessert, so leave that one.” She leaned forward and began to explain the wide away of cutlery. “This one is for your fish, this for your salad, and this for your meat.”
“And this?” He pointed at the spoon which had been placed far away from him.
“Your dessert spoon. Do not touch it until dessert is served.”
He let his hand fall limp again.
“This glass is for white wine, this one is for red, and this is for dessert wine.” She placed her fingers on the spindle of each glass in turn, delicately. “White wine will be served with your fish, of course, and the red with your meat.”
“Of course,” he muttered with such thick irony, it was not lost on her. She looked at him, questioningly, but didn’t challenge him.
