“Her brother?”
“Yes.”
George laid out the situation in detail and iterated all the reasons for and against letting Harold go, and even alerting the constable about this man who was a thief.
“How do you think your father would have resolved this?” Nanny asked after some thought.
“I believe he would have let him go and called the police.”
“And do you concur?”
“That is my dilemma. Something is stopping me from taking that action.”
“And why do you think that is?”
“Because of Lucy?”
“No, my dear. Because you have a kind heart. You have compassion.”
“And how does that help me solve my problem?”
Nanny continued with her sewing. “Your heart will find the solution. Not your mind.”
George laughed. “I was hoping you would give me the answer. Tell me outright what I should do—like showing me how to work a maths equation.”
Then she laughed. “Ah… yes, I expect you would like me to do that. But then you would not benefit from the struggle of searching for the right response.”
“Oh, Nanny you are impossible.”
“I know. And has that not always been the case?”
Chapter 33
Without Lucy, the Duchess was grumpy. She drove Flossy to distraction with her unending demands. First, she was too hot. Then she was too cold. She wanted her hair done up; then she wanted it down. The dog needed to go out. The wardrobe needed rearranging. She wanted tea. She wanted cinnamon toast. Poor Flossy was being run in circles.
But her Grace finally decided what she wanted to do was meet with her daughters, and Flossy was sent to gather the daughters into the drawing room for tea at the usual time.
“What does she want now?” Ann asked quietly of Charlotte, as they sat playing a hand of cards.
“Oh, not more black dresses, I hope. I fully intend to light a large bonfire at the end of mourning and burn everything that is black.”
“But then we would need to be fitted out all over again next time someone else died,” Ann added with a giggle.
“Good, you are all here,” the Duchess said as she swept into the drawing room. “Tea, Stevens,” she commanded.
“Your Grace,” he said as he prepared her refreshment.
“Now then…” she said as she settled Princess onto her lap. “We need to talk about marriage.”
There was a stony silence for a moment or two before Ann spoke up. “And how exactly do you plan to accomplish that with all of us in mourning? We look disgusting, and we are not allowed to have our Sunday At Homes nor attend parties nor doanythingthat might possibly attract any interesting and available young suitors.”
“I have been giving that some thought,” the Duchess said slipping Princess a goody from the plate Stevens had set on the table beside her. “I think we need a dinner party…”
Ann started to say, “But how is…”
But the Duchess raised her finger to silence her. “It is possible because I say it is.”
“And our invited guests? Will they not think it inappropriate for us to be entertaining so soon after…?” Betsy started to ask.
