George spoke to her before she could speak to him. “Mother, I wanted to say the puppies you are interested in are now just over six weeks old, and if you are ready, I would be happy to take you to see them.”
This surprised her. “Oh, George, that is splendid. I should like that.” Then she had a thought. “But are they trained? I cannot have it piddling all over my chambers.”
George laughed. “Of course, they are not. They are only six weeks old. It will take several months to train a puppy that young.”
“Oh, dear. What am I to do? I know nothing about training a dog.”
“Perhaps one of the staff will know what to do,” George suggested.
“Oh, I know. I can get Lucy to do it. She was ever so good at caring for my poor Isabell. I am certain she can take care of all that for me.”
“Mother, Lucy might not be with us long enough to see the training through to the end.”
“Why ever not?” Mother asked in a panic.
“You know she has applied for a position as a lady’s companion in London.”
“Was she truly serious about that? I thought she was just trying to get more money.”
“Mother, you never paid her. What do you expect her to do?”
“How ungrateful—after all I have done for her.”
George laughed. “No, Mother, it is you who has been ungrateful. Lucy has been nothing but devoted and loyal to this family since we took her in. And yet you treat her like a servant. Ordering her about and subjecting her to endless humiliation.”
Judith stared at him, open-mouthed—unable to answer, but then said, “I have no idea what you are talking about. I never heard of such a thing. What ideas you have.”
George sighed, it was like talking to a wall. “Mother, you wanted to see me about something. What is it?”
Judith attempted to gather her dignity after her son’s berating and said, “We are invited to the Goodwin’s to dinner on Wednesday night, and I expect you and your father to come with us. After all, you have been paying some attention to Miss Priscilla. I want to know if you have any feelings for her. I have every expectation that Mr. Beaumont might ask one of your sisters for her hand in marriage, and I want to know if you might be similarly inclined toward Miss Priscilla.”
George appeared to be surprised by the question. “A proposal to Miss Priscilla? Whatever gave you that idea? We have been cordial to each other, but there is absolutely no intention on my part to ask Miss Priscilla for her hand in marriage. It is a quite preposterous idea.”
“And why ever is that? She is lovely, charming, and I understand, comes with a substantial living. And she is the daughter of a Lord. It seems like quite a suitable match, to me.”
“To you perhaps, but not to me. I agree she is charming and quite pleasing to the eyes, but I can assure you she is not the woman for me—however large her dowry might be.”
Judith was not to be deterred. “I want you to think about it. It is time for you to marry. If not her, then some other suitable young lady. And it should be soon. You do nothing but fritter away your aimless life. All that ridiculous painting. That is not what a future duke should be doing. And I can tell you I am going to have a word with your father about all this. It is time for you to grow up and take on your full responsibility.”
* * *
Lucy sought out George in his studio the afternoon of the Goodwin’s dinner.
“Here you are,” she said coming over to where he was working. “Oh, I like this one very much. I know that place. It is close to one of my favorite walks, and you capture the evening light so beautifully.”
“Thank you,” George said, smiling and turning to Lucy. I had painted this before but was not able to capture the light as I have with this one.”
“That is because you are becoming a master painter. You should be very proud.”
“Never proud. No matter how hard I try, I always fall short of what I see in my mind’s eye.”
Lucy turned from George and went to the window and stared outside. George studied her.
“Is there something you wanted to see me about?”
She turned back to him.
“Yes. I have received an offer of employment from Lady Harding.”
