The Duke And His Four Wards

Chapter 2.3

"Oooh, Maggie! Isn't he magnificent?" Maribella's round eyes, brilliant and bright, greeted Margaret as she entered their parlour.

"Did he agree to be our guardian?" Asked the phlegmatic Sophia.

And, "Is he nice?" from the youngest Emma.

All the important questions, thought Margaret with an affectionate smile, as she threw her bonnet aside and subsided into an armchair with a whisper of her stylish skirts. Her three half-sisters gathered around eagerly. She eyed them fondly. It would be hard to find three more attractive young ladies, even though she did say so herself. Twenty-year-old Sophia, with her dark brown hair and dramatically pale face, settling herself on one arm of her chair. Maribella on her other side, chestnut curls rioting around her heart-shaped and decidedly mischievous countenance ,
And Emma, the youngest and quietest of them all, curling up to her feet, her grey-brown eyes shining with the intent ness of youth, the light dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose persisting despite the ruthless application of Denmark lotion, crushed strawberries and every other remedy ever invented.

"Commonly held to be well to pass." Margaret's own words echoed in her ears. Her smile grew. "Well, my loves, it seems we are, incontrovertibly and without doubt, the Duke of Twyford's wards."

"When does he want to meet us?" asked Sophia, ever practical.

"Tomorrow afternoon. He's opening up Twyford House and we're to move in then. He resides at Delmere House, where I went this morning, so the properties will thus be preserved. His aunt, Lady Hillsborough, is to act as our chaperon—she's apparently well-connected and willing to sponsor us. She'll be there tomorrow."

A stunned silence greeted her news. Then Maribella voiced the awe of all three. "Since ten this morning?"

Margaret's eyes danced. She nodded.

Maribella drew a deep breath. "Is he...masterful?"

"Very!" replied Margaret. "But you'll be caught out, my love, if you think to sharpen your claws on our guardian. He's a deal too shrewd, and experienced besides." Studying the pensive faces around her, she added. "Any flirtation between any of us and Felix Cambridge would be doomed to failure. As his wards, we're out of court, and he won't stand any nonsense, I warn you."

"Hmm." Sophia stood and wandered to the windows before turning to face her. "So it's as you suspected? He won't be easy to manage?"

Margaret smiled at the thought and shook her head decisively. "I'm afraid, my dears, that any notions we may have had of setting the town slight while in the care of a complaisant guardian have died along with the last Duke." One slim forefinger tapper her full lower lip thoughtfully. "However," she continued, "provided we adhere to society's rules and cause him no trouble, I doubt our new guardian will throw any rub in our way. We did come to London to find husbands, after all. And that," she said forcefully, gazing at the three faced fixed on hers, "is, unless I miss my guess, precisely what His Grace intends is to do."

"So he's agreed to present us so we can find husbands?" asked Emma.

Again Margaret nodded. "I think it bothers him, to have four wards." She smiled in reminiscence, then added, "And from what I've seen if the ton thus far, I suspect the present Duke as our protector may well be a distinct improvement over the previous incumbent. I doubt we'll have to fight off the fortune-hunters."

Sine minutes ticked by in silence as they considered their new guardian. Then Margaret stood and shook out her skirts. She took a few steps into the room before turning to address her sisters.

"Tomorrow we'll be collected at two and conveyed to Twyford House, which is in Mount Street." She paused to let the implication of her phrasing sink in. "As you love me, you'll dress demurely and behave with all due reticence. No playing off your tricks on the Duke." She looked pointedly at Maribella, who grinned roguishly back. "Exactly so! I think, in the circumstances, we should make life easy as possible for our new guardian. I feel sure he could have broken the guardianship if he had wished and can only be thankful he chose instead to honour his uncle's obligations. But we shouldn't try him too far." She ended her motherly admonition with a stern air, deceiving her sisters not at all.

As the other three heads came together, Margaret turned to gaze unseeingly out the window. A bewitching smile curved her generous lips and a twinkle lit her grey-green eyes. Softly, she murmured to herself, "For I've a definite suspicion he's going to find us very trying indeed!