Becoming A Lady Read online

  Twenty-one-year old Jeremy nodded in the direction of the doors and arched his over-protective, brotherly eyebrow. “Who was the gent that just left?” he asked before coughing into his hand.

  She shrugged and straightened the chair behind a table. “He says he’s from Surrey, England. His name is Mr. Calvin Seton, but he doesn’t mean a thing to me.”

  Jeremy studied her warily, stepping closer to her. “He doesn’t, you say? Then pray, why has he made you so bothered?”

  “Ha!” She stomped her foot. “I am not hot and bothered!”

  Jeremy’s eyes widened before he threw back his head and laughed—which brought on a longer fit of coughs. When he was able to breathe better, he said, “Oh, sister dear, I didn’t say you were hot and bothered. Just bothered.”

  Not very often did Dorothy become embarrassed, so when heat climbed up her neck to her cheeks, she growled and turned away from him, marching into the kitchen. Looking for something to keep her mind occupied, she picked up a bottle of whiskey and hurried out to serve her customers. Grumbling, she marched to a table of men and refilled their drinks. Her brother’s laugh—and coughing—still rang through the busy room, upsetting her that much more.

  Hot and bothered, my eye! Mr. Calvin Seton did nothing but infuriate her. The cocky man had the nerve to play her mind game—and he played it well. She didn’t like that, even if he had made her heart pump faster. Huffing, she turned away from the table and moved to the next group of men to refill their cups.

  When she saw Mr. Fancy Breeches tonight, she would certainly give him a piece of her mind. She supposed women in England did not speak their minds—even if they had them. So Seton would definitely not be prepared for Dorothy’s bold personality.

  She stopped midway through pouring a drink as an idea struck her. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? She would scare the man away. That’s what she’d do! He for certain didn’t cross paths with women like her, and the uppity son of an earl would not know how to react. He’d become all flustered and leave.

  Grinning widely, she nodded. Yes, that is what she would do. He’d be sorry he even stepped foot in her inn.

  “Dorothy, what has come over you?” Jeremy asked as he grasped her elbow and swung her around to face him.

  It took her a second to think about what she was doing, besides plotting, that is. “I’m um—” she glanced at the bottle in her hand— “I’m serving drinks. What does it look like I’m doing?”

  Jeremy folded his arms and frowned, concern dulled his eyes. “Have you realized you’re giving away our best bottle of whiskey? You’re pouring it in everyone’s cups, and they haven’t paid for it,” he whispered.

  Shock hit her like a bucket of cold water. She hitched a breath and glanced at the ones she’d just served. True to her brother’s word, her patrons had confusion written on their drunken faces—and that wasn’t easy to do in this part of town.

  Groaning, she threaded her fingers through her unmanageable hair that started out this morning in a tight bun, but now barely hung together at her nape. “This is not good.”

  Jeremy wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her away from the tables. “I think you’ve had enough today. Let me take over.”

  She pushed his arm away and glared. “You don’t need to take over. Your coughing has weakened you, so I think I should be the one to close for the night.”

  “Dorothy,” he warned, “do not argue with me. Yes, I’m tired, but I’m all right. You, on the other hand—”

  “I can handle anything you put in front of me,” she snapped, interrupting. “Didn’t you see the way I dealt with Slater?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I thought Mr. Seton handled Mr. Slater.”

  “Oh, posh! Mr. Seton was just in my way. I would have dealt with Slater with or without the British man’s help.”

  “Nevertheless, something is eating at you and I want to know what it is.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him about the stranger who disturbed her, but her mind halted her thoughts. She didn’t know for sure if her grandfather had sent Mr. Seton—she was just assuming. So until she knew what the gentleman wanted, how could she say anything to her brother? Besides, she shouldn’t worry him needlessly. He had enough problems as it was with his declining health.

  “Not to worry, brother dear,” she told him and lovingly patted his cheek. Goodness, he looked paler than before. “I’m fine now.” To prove it, she straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and walked to check on another table.

  Jeremy gave up arguing with her, which he usually did, and sat by some of his friends. A frown claimed her face as she studied her sickly brother. No physician could tell them what was wrong or why Jeremy grew weaker by the day. They couldn’t afford a real doctor, so they had to settle for the pathetic ones who didn’t have a practice any longer.

  The day moved in a slow pace and soon evening was upon them. It was all she could do to keep busy and not think of the very handsome Mr. Seton. Calvin, she thought dreamily. As much as the feminine side of her wanted to hurry home, bathe in the hip-tub, and adorn herself in a lovely dress, her stubborn side reminded her of her goal.

  Scare the British man back to England.

  There was only one way she could do that, and it was to be herself. After all, her hoyden personality frightened most men away who considered courting her. Why not Mr. Seton?

  Time seemed to stand still, and she kept her eyes on the front door. When Mr. Seton finally walked in, she nearly lost her breath. He was dressed in different clothes, although they were still expensive and very clean. The grey color of his over-jacket and waistcoat looked good on him. And once again, the style of jacket made his shoulders appear wider than she’d first thought. Even his brown hair seemed darker than before. Or had it been this color earlier? She’d been too busy admiring his shoulders, and his mesmerizing green eyes.

  He kept his gaze locked on hers as he strode towards her. With every step he took, her heart quickened.

  Swallowing the lump of interest in her throat, she waited until he stood in front of her before speaking.

  “Good evening,” he said in a voice as smooth as silk.

  “Drat. I had hoped you were just jesting about wanting to take me to dinner tonight.”

  He shook his head. “You’re not going to get out of it that easily.”

  “Fine.” She set her rag down and walked around the counter.

  Mr. Seton’s gaze roamed over her, displeasure registering on his expression. A part of her died inside and made her wish she had dressed accordingly. But no. She would continue with her plan.

  He swept his hand through the air, indicating her attire. “Are you going to change?”

  “No, Mr. Seton. I do not plan on changing myself for anybody, no matter how charmingly they smile or how sensually they speak with a British accent.”

  He grinned. “Actually, I was referring to your clothes.”

  “So was I.”

  Chuckling, he shook his head. “You continue to amaze me with your forthright personality.”

  “Forthright? I don’t believe I have ever been described in such a way.”

  He offered his elbow. “Shall we?”

  “You still want to take me to dinner even though I’m not in the proper dress?”

  “But of course. Since I now know you think me charming, I shall try my hardest to win you over.”

  A blush crept up her face even though she tried not to let it affect her. “Try all you want for the good it will do you.” She glanced at the elbow he still offered. “I don’t see the need to take your elbow when we will be moving to that table over there.” She motioned her head in the direction in the empty table sitting in the far corner.

  He glanced that way before meeting her eyes again. “I thought we would go somewhere else.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “And pray, who would my chaperone be? Although I’m nothing but a working class woman, propriety dictates I have a chaperone, does it
not?”

  “Indeed it does, Miss Paxton.” He swept his hand in front of them. “Then let us adjourn to the table, shall we?”

  “Yes, we shall.” She stepped ahead of him. “You know, I highly recommend the food here. I know the cook personally.”

  “I’m quite certain the meal is tasty.”

  “It is. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  It wasn’t until they were almost to the table that she noticed his limp. She’d thought he used the walking stick for show, like most proper men of nobility she had seen. “May I ask how you were injured?”

  He looked at her with hesitancy in his gaze. Finally, he nodded.

  “For three years, I’ve been in the cavalry as a high-ranked scout officer. Six months ago I was injured and nearly had my leg taken off.”

  She gasped. “That’s horrible.”

  Like a true gentleman—one she wasn’t used to—he pulled out the chair and she sat. Her heartbeat did a little flip. Confused, she rubbed her forehead. Something must be wrong with her to feel this way about a man she didn’t know.

  After he took the chair across from her and sat, he linked his fingers and rested them in his lap. “My brother saved me from the butcher who wanted to saw off my leg.” Mr. Seton shrugged. “I may have a limp for the rest of my life, but at least I still have a leg.”

  This poor soldier! To think what he must have endured. Suddenly, Mr. Seton didn’t seem a threat to her any longer. The contours of his face softened, which in turn softened her heart as she stared at his handsome face. Green eyes warmed her as his gaze held hers prisoner, and his lips tempted her beyond anything she’d experienced before. She dared to admit she enjoyed the pitter-patter of her heart when he smiled.

  “Y—you are correct. At least you have your limb. And what a wonderful brother you have, indeed,” she said.

  “That he is. I literally owe him my life.” Mr. Seton took his eyes off her and glanced around the nearly empty room. “I honestly thought there would be more people here tonight.”

  Shaking herself out of the transfixed stupor he’d put her in, she shook her head. “Most people only come for the drink—not to dine.”

  As she studied him in silence, those traitorous thoughts snuck upon her again. He seemed like such a strong man—even with an injured leg—and she wondered what it would feel like to be held in his embrace. A warm shiver ran over her and she rubbed her arms.

  “Are you ill?” he asked.

  “No.” She straightened and folded her arms, leaning on the table.

  His expression changed to that worried look he’d given her earlier when he assessed her clothes. But this time, his stare aimed at her arms on the table.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked. “Do I have a bug on me?”

  His gaze snapped up to hers. “No. I have seen no sign of insects on you.”

  “So why are you staring at me like that?”

  “Do you always place your arms on the table in such a way?”

  She glanced at her limbs. “I suppose. I never really thought of it.”

  “Tell me, have you been put through school?”

  “Of course. My mother had a friend who helped me out from time to time. Why do you ask?”

  “Do you know it is bad manners for a lady to sit in that fashion at the table?”

  She snorted a laugh and leaned back in her chair, which of course made her arms fall at her side. “Manners, you say? What, pray tell, are manners? Apparently, you have no clue to my upbringing.”

  He watched her through hooded eyes as his finger and thumb outlined his mustache. “Actually, I do, Miss Paxton. I know more about you than you think I do.”

  Her heart sank and she scolded herself for this reaction. She should have figured he’d know about her life. Yet for some reason, she didn’t want a man like him to think less of her. When disgust touched his expression, she knew she had failed.

  Chapter Three

  A series of expressions flickered across Miss Paxton’s face. None of them made Calvin happy. Perhaps he should have been a little gentler with his words, but it appalled him to think she had no manners. What appalled him more—he would have to teach her to become a lady before she met with the Duke of Longdale. If Miss Paxton acted this way for five minutes in the duke’s presence, the old man would keel over. Certainly, his heart would stop as well.

  Calvin took a deep breath. He definitely hadn’t expected Dorothy to be so uneducated when it came to etiquette. Being a scout officer hadn’t taught him how to teach a woman to be a lady. He didn’t even have to teach his younger sisters how to do this kind of thing. Yet, it was something he’d have to do in order to earn his pay. After all, Calvin had promised the duke he’d find his long-lost granddaughter.

  Finally, the woman across from him lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. She linked her fingers together and rested them against the table. “There is something you should know about me, Mr. Seton. To survive in this life, I’ve had to deceive many people. I did all I could to reach my goals. Forgive me, my lord, but I was not raised with a nanny who fed me with a golden spoon. I was not served sumptuous dishes around the clock for my meals, and I didn’t take tea with the high-and-mighty. You and I come from completely different worlds.”

  He nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but Jeremy arrived with drinks. Calvin ordered the house specialty—not caring what it was at this point—and breathed a sigh of relief when the young man left their table so Calvin could return his focus to Miss Paxton.

  Sadness lurked in the depth of her eyes, yet a bit of pride still left had her lifting her stubborn chin. Apparently, she wasn’t ashamed of her upbringing.

  “So, Miss Paxton, where should we begin?” He drummed his fingers on the table.

  “I would like you to tell me why you’re here.”

  “Indeed, I shall.” He sipped his wine, surprised that it didn’t taste watered down. “Your grandfather, the Duke of Danby, has sent me. He wants his family to come to Longdale Castle for a celebration of his eightieth birthday. Your grandfather requires your presence on this most special occasion.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I am not family, Mr. Seton, so sorry to disappoint you.”

  “You are family. Why else would he send me all this way to find you?”

  “Perhaps this is a form of punishment. Mayhap the duke is upset at you for some reason or another.”

  Calvin wanted to laugh, but held it in this time. “You are mistaken, Miss Paxton. I can assure you, the duke was quite serious when he hired me. Not only that, but he respects my father too much to punish me, as you so delicately put it.”

  Anger appeared in her blue eyes, hard as steel. She twisted the linen napkin on the table as if she were choking the devil himself. “Mr. Seton, believe me when I say I have no grandfather. When the old duke discovered his son had gotten my mother with child, Dukie didn’t waste a shilling on helping my mother raise his granddaughter by herself. Longdale made certain my mother and I lived in squalor and that nobody knew of Lord George’s mistake.” She shrugged. “Now tell me why would Longdale want to bring me back into Lord George’s life after all this time when they went to great lengths to hide the illegitimate granddaughter? I’m quite certain the duke has a litter of grandchildren from Lord George by now, anyway.”

  Her voice dripped with pain and betrayal, tugging at Calvin’s heartstrings. He’d always been the one to side with those who wanted to hide their past transgressions. Never had he actually listened to the utter sadness from one of these transgressions to understand how they felt.

  Calvin shook his head. “Lord George married Ada Martin, and they had one child—Randolph Whitton. After the death of his wife, Lord George lived a reckless life, during which time he met your mother and you were born. This is what I know of your father and half-brother.” He reached across the table and gently took Dorothy’s hand, caressing her fingers. “Your grandfather feels it is time for you to meet your brother, Randolph.”


  Her gaze dropped to where his hand lay. Slowly, her anger disappeared and the lines in her lovely face turned soft. But within seconds, her expression changed again and she withdrew her hand.

  “Forgive me, Mr. Seton, but I cannot go along with this. I refuse to acknowledge being related to a half-brother, an absentee father—and especially, a pompous grandfather.”

  Folding her arms smartly across her chest, she glanced around the room, doing all she could not to look at Calvin. Strange how he understood her so well, and his heart softened from hearing all of her struggles. Still, he had a job to do, and he would not fail. The duke would pay Calvin very well to bring Miss Paxton back. He could only hope she liked to barter, because this was the only way Calvin could think to get her to accompany him back to England.

  Jeremy returned with their plates of food to the table. The young man only met Calvin’s eyes briefly before he looked at his sister. Calvin had heard about Jeremy’s health issues, and just looking upon him this evening, Calvin could tell the rumors were true. The young man walked sluggishly, and the pallor of his skin let Calvin know Miss Paxton’s brother was quite ill, indeed.

  Dorothy acknowledged her brother with a nod before she grabbed her fork and dove in like a starved woman. She ate so fast and stuffed her mouth so full, Calvin worried she’d choke on her food. After taking a few bites himself, he could stand no more. He must stop her from making such a scene.

  “Miss Paxton?” he said.

  She lifted her head and met his gaze. “Yes?” she answered around a mouthful of food.

  Inwardly, he groaned. “Tell me about your brother, Jeremy.”

  Dorothy nodded and swallowed, for which Calvin was relieved since he didn’t want to see the half-eaten food in her mouth.

  “A year after I was born, my mother married and had another child.”

  “So Jeremy works and manages this inn with you?”

  “He does, and he’s very good with our patrons. Not only that, his bookkeeping skills are highly commendable.” She smiled proudly.