The Duke (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 6)

by Mary Kingswood

  The duchess, however, was equal to the occasion. With commendable steadiness of hand, she set her tea cup and saucer on a table beside her. Then she rose.

  “Come, Ruth,” she said calmly. “Let us leave now.”

  Head high, she walked majestically past the girl without looking at her, and made for the door. Ruth followed her, casting the girl a puzzled glance as she went by. She still held Ger’s arm, calm, unafraid, very sure of herself. Ger was looking rueful, and a little embarrassed.

  In the entrance hall, the housekeeper waited. “Your Grace? My lady? Your rooms are prepared for you.”

  They followed her up the stairs, but when they reached Ruth’s room, the duchess followed her in, and chased out the maid, pressing Ruth into one of the two chairs beside the fire. She herself took the other.

  “Now, listen carefully, Ruth, for you are a good girl, and I know you will not be missish about this. All men of our rank have mistresses, although not usually quite such brazen hussies as this one. Your papa has had several, and as for Uncle James— Well, the less said about that the better. It means nothing to them. Men are… different from women. They have baser instincts and enjoy horrid sports involving fighting or killing things, and they enjoy women in the same low way. So they have mistresses.”

  “I know, Mama.”

  “It does not — or should not — affect their wives in any way. A considerate man will ensure that his wife knows nothing of that side of his life. A sensible wife will ignore it if it should happen to come to her notice, and you are a very sensible girl, Ruth. Indeed, I do not often say such things, for one would not wish you to become too puffed up in your own conceit, but you are the very best of my daughters. Susan has such an unbecoming forwardness, and Charlotte has far too much sensibility — her nature is romantical, I fear. And as for Anne! Such a hoyden that I do not know what is to become of her, truly I do not. But you have always made me proud of you, a good, obedient girl with no foolish romantic notions in your head. Whatever happens to the others, however sadly they lack beauty or temper or accomplishments, none of them matter, because you are everything I could ever have hoped for. Now you are going to make me prouder than I have ever been, for you are going to follow in my footsteps and become a duchess. Falconbury will give you the title and position in society that you deserve. You will be a great lady, you will be respected and honoured by everyone, and it will be your privilege to continue the Litherholm line. What more could any woman want?”

  “What about love?” Ruth hazarded.

  “People of our level of society do not need love,” her mother said disdainfully. “If, when you have done your duty by your husband, you feel the need for… something more, then, provided you are discreet, you may do as you wish, but expecting to be loved is to set oneself up for disappointment, believe me. So my mother taught me, and she was perfectly right. I had… hopes of your father when we first married, and when those hopes were not fulfilled I was quite miserable for a while. But I soon came to accept the folly of such girlish dreams. As soon as I stopped expecting love, I became perfectly contented with my lot. Take your satisfaction from your children and from knowing you are a good wife and a good duchess. You will have all the fulfilment you desire if you do your duty, daughter, as you have been taught, take it from me.”

  16: Considerations

  The duchess summoned the maid back into the room, instructed her to find the blue muslin with the fluted sleeves and told Ruth to change, before sweeping regally out of the room. Obediently, Ruth changed, and allowed Pinnock to dress her hair a little more elaborately. Then, too agitated to stay in her room, she made her way to the head of the stairs.

  She was alone. This was the first day in her life when she had been quite alone, with neither nurse, nor maid, nor chaperon with her. It had not occurred to her when she had sat at the instrument with Ger, and although they had been unchaperoned, the door had been open with all the bustle of arrival going on in the entrance hall just beyond. But now, no one was watching her. Her mother was in her own room. Aunt Maria was watching over Susan at Crosby Hall. Cousin Patience had gone off to play the poor relation with a different branch of the family, for a change. Pinnock was busy in the dressing room. Ruth was utterly alone.

  Before her mother or her maid should realise, she set off with quick steps down the corridor, but when she came to the Grand Staircase, where a footman stood immobile, waiting for a summons, she turned into the Long Gallery. She had no plan except to find a quiet corner where she could hide away, but when she came to the end of the Gallery, she saw the portrait of Ran and Ger. There she stopped, sitting on the sofa conveniently placed directly opposite and gazing at the two familiar faces, the one to whom she was still betrothed, and the one she was expected to marry.

  It was peaceful there. Occasionally voices drifted up from below, or footsteps sounded on bare boards somewhere. Once a footman walked past without noticing her, but mostly there was nothing to disturb her thoughts. She could not settle her swirling mind. To marry Ger would be the culmination of many years of gentle contrivance, and would please her parents. Yet he had a mistress… Could she cope with that? And if she did not marry him, what was to become of her?

  There was no making sense of any of it, so she sat and looked at the two brothers and wallowed in the pleasure of solitude. At some point, slow footsteps brought Brent to stand before her.

  “Is there anything I may bring you, my lady?”

  “No, thank you. I am… just resting.”

  “Her Grace is taking tea in the Queen’s Room, my lady. When Her Grace enquired for you, I suggested that you might have gone out for a walk in the gardens, the weather being so balmy.”

  She looked at him in surprise, unsure whether he truly thought she had gone out or was defending her against her mother, but his expression was inscrutable. “Thank you, Brent. I shall join her in a while. When I have rested.”

  “Very good, my lady.”

  He walked off again, his measured footsteps fading away down the Gallery. Not long after, she heard quicker steps approaching. Ran, his face creased in anxiety. Always so serious! But at the sight of his dear face, her heart gave a little leap. So handsome, and even coming to her straight from the stables, as the mud on his boots proclaimed, he was the epitome of the gentleman of quiet distinction.

  “Ruth! I am so sorry I — Are you all right?”

  “Yes… I am well. Thank you.”

  “Hmm.” He frowned, and sat down beside her. “Have you seen Ger?”

  “Oh yes. He is just the same, is he not? I thought he might be… changed but…” She stumbled to an uncertain halt. Was he unchanged? He had a mistress now, and yet, when they had sat at the instrument side by side, he had been the same old Ger she remembered.

  “Just the same wild, reckless Ger,” Ran said. Was that a note of bitterness? “He never does anything by halves, and to reappear just at this time… it is awkward, very awkward. Another two weeks and we should have been married. I had already made arrangements for the special licence, and the lawyers were working on the settlements. Well, I have put a stop to that now that my circumstances have changed.” A hesitation, and then he took her hand in his. Such intimacy, for a man to hold her ungloved hand! His head was lowered, not looking her in the eye. “Ruth, your father wishes to break our engagement so that you may marry Ger, as originally planned, but there is… a complication.”

  “Miss Chandry,” she said. “His mistress.” Ran’s head flew up, shocked. “She told me so,” Ruth said quietly. “She said it was better for me to know, and about the child, too.”

  “She said that? Good God! That is outrageous! To subject you to such insult! I cannot believe—! But Ger encourages such behaviour by housing her within the family wing, allowing her to dine with the family—”

  “Does she so? Mama will not sit at table with her, nor allow me to do so.”

  “No, of course not, but Ger wants her treated with respect. He does not seem to und
erstand… but you and Her Grace must not be subjected to such unpardonable incivility. Ruth…” He stroked her hand almost absently, watching her with a serious expression. “You see how difficult it all is. I understand your father’s concern that you should marry according to your rank, but there are many other considerations and… I would urge you to make no irrevocable decisions until we have all thought carefully on the matter. There is so much to take into account beyond obligation and eligibility and duty. Marriage is for life, and I would not have you made unhappy by a wrong choice. If our engagement stands and I am so fortunate as to become your husband, I will do everything in my power to make you happy, but you must follow your heart above all. Do not choose merely in obedience to your father or because you feel that honour dictates it. Choose rather what will bring you the greatest happiness in your life, for nothing would grieve me more than to see you made miserable.”

  Dear Ran! Such generous thoughts almost overwhelmed her. She could feel tears prickling — she, who never cried! But the concern in his eyes, the gentle touch of his hand on hers, the kindly words he spoke brought home to her something that she had never allowed herself to admit before — that little glow inside was something more than gratitude or mere liking. She loved Ran, in a way that she had never felt for any other man. Not Ger, certainly. When he was in affable mood, he was the best of men, but she had seen his darker moods, too, and the recklessness that Ran had mentioned. She was fond of Ger, as of any friend of long-standing, but it was Ran she loved.

  Love could not blind her, however, to the meaning beneath his words. He would try to make her happy if he married her, he had said. Such a cool declaration! No word of affection, no mention of his heart… no sign of love. At Mallowfleet he had seemed to display a pleasing warmth, but there was no hint of it now, only conventional politeness. ‘…if I am so fortunate as to become your husband…’ Just a form of words, for if he truly wanted her as his wife, would he not fight for her? Would he tamely surrender her to his brother? Would he not passionately declare himself?

  But there was no passion in him. He was restrained, courteous, cool. He did not love her.

  “Thank you, Ran. I shall consider most carefully what to do. Now perhaps I had better go to Mama. She must be wondering what has become of me.”

  “Pray give her my apologies and tell her that I shall attend her as soon as I have changed out of my riding clothes.”

  He rose, bowed and took two steps away before turning with a puzzled expression. “How did you contrive to escape your watchdogs?”

  She interpreted this to mean her chaperons. Laughing, she said, “Aunt Maria and Cousin Patience were required elsewhere. There is only Mama to watch over me now.”

  “Are you in the Lilac Room? I asked Mrs Brack to put you in there if you should visit again.”

  An odd thing to do, for she had made no complaint about the Bluebell Room, and the two rooms seemed identical, but she replied politely, “Yes, indeed. Thank you for—”

  “If you need to escape, there is a secret door behind the escritoire in the corner. Just pull on the sconce.”

  With a quick nod, he strode away without a backward glance. Ruth gave a little gasp that was half laughter and half sob. To be thinking of that at such a time! And yet, it was typical of his consideration. He had seen how hemmed about she was, and tried to help her. ‘If you need to escape…’ Oh, if only she could! If only she could go back to London. If only Ger had not come back, or at least had waited a little longer. Another month and she would have been safely married. But what then would have been Ran’s feelings? To be forced into an unwanted marriage—

  She stopped, shocked at her own thoughts, for was that not exactly what she herself was contemplating, to marry Ger when she loved Ran? ‘Follow your heart’ he had told her, but she could hardly do so. To insist upon marrying Ran would make her parents very unhappy and cause an irrevocable breach. Ger would be deprived of the duchess he had expected. And Ran… poor Ran would gallantly smile and pretend he was fortunate. Everyone would be unhappy, and that would make her unhappy too.

  Yet if she married Ger… that would make her unhappy, too. To live here at Valmont and see Ran every day, to watch him marry some other lucky woman, would be hideous. No, for then he would be happy and—

  It was too difficult. All her life she had been told what to do, by her nurse, her governess, her mother, her aunts and cousins and the mothers of her friends. Trying to work things out for herself was too complicated, and she could see no solution that would please everyone.

  Ruth sat for a few moments longer, trying to stamp out the little flames of anguish that were springing up inside her. Then she rose and resolutely shook out her skirts. Head high, she went to find her mother.

  ~~~~~

  Ran strode along narrow corridors and up the service stairs to reach his room, where Giggs, alerted by the stables, had already laid out his clothes. Ran was helped out of his coat and boots, then tore off neckcloth, waistcoat and breeches, finally the shirt and a quick wash in cold water, for there was no time to wait for hot. His dressing had progressed to a fresh shirt and pantaloons, when he heard music and laughter drifting from the sitting room. With a tut of annoyance, he marched through the ante-room and flung open the door. Ger was seated at the pianoforte, with Ginny hanging over him, whispering in his ear, both of them laughing like a pair of silly girls.

  With all that had happened, with all that was about to happen and the difficulties they were in, how could Ger sit there enjoying himself, when he should be doing the pretty to the duke and duchess, and Ruth?

  “What the devil are you doing here?” Ran said.

  “Ran! You are back! You have missed a great deal of drama. Ginny—”

  “I know what Ginny did. What are you doing, skulking away up here?”

  “Hiding from the Grenabys,” Ger said with a rueful grin. “They ran away when Ginny said… well, you seem to know what she said. Ran, Orrisdale wants me to marry Ruth. That is what he is here for, to persuade me that I have an obligation because we were as good as betrothed before, and I am bound in honour to marry her. What shall I do?”

  “What do you want to do?” Ran said.

  Ger’s face creased into worried lines. “I cannot tell you! I like her, of course, but… marriage! I assumed the betrothal would hold and you would still marry her, but Orrisdale said that there was no conceivable way he would agree to let Ruth marry you, not when you are only a younger son. What is to be done, Ran?”

  Well. There it was, openly expressed, exactly the outcome he had dreaded. Ruth was lost to him. Damnation! Frustration made him terse. “Nothing immediately. We must all have time to reflect on this, for it is no easy matter to resolve. The first priority is for you to entertain your guests and for Ginny to stay out of sight. She cannot come down to dinner tonight.”

  “Now wait—” Ger began.

  “No, listen to me,” Ran said brusquely. “The story about her being your guest may have worked with the family, because even though most of them guessed the truth, they cared enough for you to pretend that they did not. But now that Ginny has blurted out the whole to the Grenabys, there is no possibility of pretence. You may say all you like that everyone must respect Ginny, but you know what happened as soon as they were faced with the truth. The duchess will not stand to be in the same room as her, let alone sit down at table with her, nor will Ruth, and why should they? The Royal Princes may flaunt their mistresses with impunity, and any number of married women have lovers and still move in society, but Ginny is not married, and has rubbed our guests’ high-bred noses in her status and her pregnancy. She cannot come down to dinner while they are here.”

  “Then I shall not go either,” Ger said mulishly.

  “For God’s sake! Is Ginny so important to you that you cannot even put up with a few days of inconvenience?”

  “Yes! Ginny is more important to me than anything!”

  “Is she so?” Ran said acidly. “I thought
you wanted to do what was right, Ger, to be the duke, as you were born to be. I thought you had finally accepted your destiny, but here you are, still skirting around it. This is not one of your stupid games, where you get to play duke when it suits you and run away when it all gets difficult. This is your life, Ger, as it has been mine for ten years or more, waiting for you to grow up. But if Ginny means more to you than your duty or the family or the country you are supposed to help lead, then maybe you should just take her back to Cornwall and stay there, for you are of no use to anyone here!”

  There was a stunned silence. Ger and Ginny stared at him, aghast.

  Ran rubbed his face tiredly. “Oh God, Ger, I am so sorry! I did not mean a word of it, I hope you—”

  Ger launched himself across the room and wrapped his arms around him. “Forgive me,” he whispered. “I have been unpardonably selfish all my life, and you have borne the brunt of it. Never could a man have a better brother! You are quite right — I am determined to fulfil my rôle as you expect of me… as everyone expects of me.” He stepped away, and turned to Ginny. “You see, we never fall out. We may yell at each other, but that is all.”

  His words awoke no smile from her. “This is my fault,” she said in a low voice. “What I said to them — that’s what brought this on. I thought it would help. Well, I thought Lady Ruth had a right to know everything before she took a step she couldn’t back away from, and it seemed if I made a song and dance about it, they would be so shocked they would go away and not bother us again, and then Ran could marry Ruth. Because you want to, don’t you? You said, ‘It does not necessarily follow that an arranged marriage must be unwelcome’.”

  Helplessly, he nodded. “I do want to, but whatever happens, I never will, not now.”