The Duke (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 6)

by Mary Kingswood

  “No, it was his choice to do that,” Ran said quietly. “You cannot blame yourself for his failings, and he lied to the inquiry, so he knew he was in the wrong. He came to see you to ensure that you would not betray his negligence.”

  “Do you think so?” Ger said uncertainly. “I assumed… he was trying to protect me from exposure as the cause of the catastrophe.”

  “Protect himself, more than likely,” Ginny said, tartly. “He forgot his duties, and wants to conceal his laxness.”

  “That… that makes it seem a little better,” Ger said, in a small voice. He snuggled a little more into her shoulder, wrapping one arm around her waist. “But I am still a bad person, Ginny. It was my fault that Barantine lost everything.”

  Ruth’s voice emerged from the darkness. “I may be able to relieve your worries on that score, Ger.” She came forward and knelt at his feet. “I met Miss Barantine last autumn, quite by chance. It was just after she had discovered that the people who had fêted and admired her as an heiress worth a hundred thousand pounds were very cool towards one with only a thousand from the Benefactor and a few pieces of jewellery to her name. She was distressed by the fickleness of society. I was able to help her a little, I am happy to say, and kept in touch with her. She discovered that her father was not quite the reckless gambler he sounds. It was true that he had lost the business to the sons of the earl, but it had happened before. They would hold the papers for him until he could win them back. It was just a game to them, until he died and had no opportunity to retrieve them.”

  “But his daughter!” Ger murmured. “Poor girl!”

  “The only tragedy to befall her was losing her father,” Ruth said. “When she examined all the little gifts of jewellery her father had given her over the years, she found bars of solid gold hidden beneath the silk lining of the boxes. Her hundred thousand was quite safe, she is very rich after all and is perfectly happy. She is very likely to marry one of Lord Kilrannan’s sons in time.”

  “Oh,” Ger said, his eyes wide in wonder. “But the business… what became of the business?”

  “The earl’s sons are running it, to great success, as I understand it. They gave one third of it to the former Miss Barantine as a gift.”

  “Oh,” he said again.

  “You see, love?” Ginny said. “Nothing is quite so terrible when brought out into the light of day.”

  Ran allowed himself to feel cautiously optimistic, enough to ask a question. “What happened to the diamonds? Are they at the bottom of the sea?”

  “No, no. They were sewn into my coat, remember, which I was wearing. As soon as I was well enough, I retrieved them all, and the money. Peter took most of it when he came to see me. You knew about that?”

  “Yes, he told me of his involvement, but what did he do with it? Hoard it away for Ginny?”

  “It was all for the fund. I had not quite enough saved already, so the diamonds were sold and the proceeds and the additional money — all I had won from Barantine — went to top it up. Ginny was to have whatever was left, although I can afford to settle more on her now.”

  Ran’s head spun as he worked it out, and Ruth gasped, jumping to the answer before he did.

  “You are the Benefactor!” she cried. “It was you!”

  “You did not know?” He turned to look at Ran, puzzled. “I thought you said that Peter told you?”

  “Only that he had seen you — carried out some financial and legal matters for you. Nothing of this.”

  “It was my atonement,” Ger said quietly. “I could not bring back the dead, but I could help the living. My first thought was to give everything to Miss Barantine. It ought to be hers, after all — the diamonds, and the money I had won. But Peter said that would raise some very awkward questions, and draw attention to me, which was precisely what I wished to avoid. He pointed out that she was not the only one left bereaved by the Minerva’s loss. So we created an anonymous Benefactor. It… it seemed like such a good idea, but it has caused trouble, too. Families fought over the money, some was stolen and sometimes rich people became richer while others got nothing.” He buried his face in Ginny’s shoulder again. “Everything I do turns to dust, Ginny. I am so useless.”

  “It was a wonderful idea,” she said fiercely. “You’ve done a very good thing, to balance the tragedy of the Minerva just a little. Think how many people were helped by it, Jon, people who were struggling and you gave them a helping hand. People who were given an opportunity to make something of their lives, all because of you. You could even keep it going, if you want to. You’re so rich now, you could put money aside every year to help people — orphans, or widows, or the families of those drowned at sea. You could do so much good, Jon. I won’t have you saying you’re useless. God tossed you out of the sea at my feet for a purpose, and maybe this is it, to use your money and your power as a duke to improve poor people’s lives.”

  “Yes!” he said wonderingly. “I could! I could even— Shh!” His eyes widened in sudden fear, and he whispered, “Say nothing! She may go away.”

  Silence fell in the schoolroom, but away in the distance a voice could be heard.

  “Susan!” Ruth hissed.

  “She follows me everywhere,” Ger said, his voice filled with panic. “I cannot escape, and sooner or later she will catch me alone, and then—”

  “I will get rid of her,” Ruth said softly, rising gracefully to her feet. “Keep very still, and she will not see you here.”

  She weaved through the desks to the door, just as it opened a little wider, and Susan’s head appeared.

  “Oh, what is this? The schoolroom. Oh, Ruth… I was just… what are you doing here?”

  “Exploring, sister, but it is inches deep in dust. Do not come any further, in case you dirty your dress. The housemaids have not been in here these six months past, I am sure. Where is Mama? I am sure she must be looking for you. Tell her I shall be down as soon as I have changed into something clean.”

  The voices softened and eventually disappeared, then the door closed again softly.

  “They have gone,” she said. “Ger, has Susan been bothering you?” He made no reply, so she said, “You may speak freely to me. Nothing you could say of her would surprise me.”

  “She appears in the oddest places,” he said. “She… I am sure she is trying to trick me, as she did Crosby, and Ruth, I like her well enough but I do not want to marry her!”

  “Then you shall not,” Ruth said soothingly, “but you must be aware that you are the most eligible bachelor in the country just now. Wherever you go, you will find ambitious young ladies and mamas even more determined than Susan.”

  “I cannot bear it!” he cried. “It is bad enough being a duke, knowing that I shall have to attend Parliament, suffer the season, all that dreadful business with people everywhere — so many people! I need to escape sometimes, to be alone or with Ginny, but she cannot always be with me. I feel so… so helpless.”

  “Ger,” she said, “there is only one way to put yourself beyond the reach of those aiming to be your duchess, and that is to marry.”

  “I cannot! Not when I love Ginny so much… it is impossible, you have shown me that.”

  “Then you will just have to marry Ginny,” Ruth said firmly.

  There was a long silence. Then Ger smiled and nodded his head. He even laughed. Ran thought it was the best sound he had heard all day.

  At the same moment, Ginny said, “No!” in anguished tones.

  “Why not?” Ran said.

  “You know why not.”

  “Tell me. Is it the whole nobility idea? You do not want to be part of it?”

  “Not so much,” she said slowly. “You and Ger have convinced me that even the aristocracy can be useful members of society sometimes.”

  “Thank you very much,” Ran said. “A compliment indeed.”

  She laughed. “I have nothing against you two, or Ruth, and some of your family are kind, too. It’s not that. But all the grand do
wagers would look down their noses at me, and that would upset Ger.”

  “Some high sticklers will, it is true,” Ruth said, “but so long as you do nothing outrageous, most will accept you. It takes excessive arrogance to snub a duchess, you know. And even the most disparaging will come round in time, when they see that you make Ger happy. Provide him with an heir or two and most of them will be eating out of your hand, I promise you.”

  “You make it sound easy, and I do want to protect Ger from all the ambitious Susans who would harass him to death, but what about managing Valmont? And there are other houses too. I can deal with half a dozen servants, but not hundreds of them, and planning meals and holding balls and… and knowing when to call on people and when they call on me. I shall make an utter mess of it.”

  “You will not, because you will have me to help you out,” Ruth said. “Just as Ran and Ger support each other, so you and I will support each other. We will be sisters, after all.”

  “Sisters!” Ginny said. “Oh, I should like that very much. And Ger’s sisters would be mine, too. If they are all like Lizzie, I shall be very blessed. Do you know, Ruth, I thought you were very aloof and superior and cold when I first saw you, but you’re not like that at all.”

  “And I thought you were a bad influence on Ger,” Ruth said. “I was completely wrong about that, I admit it.”

  “Ginny is the best thing that has ever happened to me,” Ger said.

  “I believe you are right,” Ruth said, smiling. “So, shall we all get married at once? That would be fun, do you not agree?”

  “It will mean getting another special licence,” Ran said ruefully. “That means postponing our own wedding once more.”

  “That is a small price to pay,” she said.

  30: Invitation To Dinner

  JUNE

  Notice posted in the marriages section of the London Gazette:

  ‘Privately at Valmont, Hampshire on the 3rd day of June, the Most Noble Gervase Septimus, Duke of Falconbury, to Miss Virginia Chandry, eldest daughter of the late Patrick Chandry Esq of Pendower House, Cornwall.

  ‘At the same place and on the same date, the Right Honourable Randolph Augustus Litherholm, commonly called Lord Randolph Litherholm, to the Right Honourable Lady Ruth Grenaby, eldest daughter of the Most Noble the Duke of Orrisdale.’

  ~~~~~

  Two footmen sprang to attention to open the doors as they approached.

  “Thank you, Thomas, James,” Ruth murmured.

  They passed through into the tunnel, very different now from the last time she had seen it, racing through in terror with a single sputtering candle. Now the sconces were in place and filled with the best beeswax candles, while carpet on the floor, a dado rail, and a long line of tapestries and gilt-framed paintings made it seem almost like a stretched-out drawing room rather than a tunnel.

  It was just as long a walk, however. “I am glad Lord Arthur and Lady Anne chose to take the carriage,” Ruth said. “They could not have walked so far, but they were determined not to miss the occasion.”

  “The first dinner in the Old Manor for years — this will be so much fun!” Ran said. “Ger will be at his best in such unthreatening society, and the Lorrimers are always good company. I am so glad you will meet the rest of them at last. You will like Alice.”

  “That is certain, for one hears nothing but good of her. Assuredly the company will be excellent tonight, but I advise you not to raise your hopes too high regarding dinner. Ginny has acquired Mrs Brine from Lizzie, whose reports were not promising.”

  “I care nothing for elaborate dishes anyway,” Ran said. “Good plain food — roasted beef or mutton, and a ragoût or two with some vegetables in butter — how hard can that be, even for Mrs Brine?”

  Ruth laughed. “We shall find out tonight just how much Lizzie exaggerated.”

  There were twelve covers at table, evenly spaced about a round table, and they quickly discovered that Lizzie had not exaggerated at all. Fortunately the kitchen maid had been recruited from Valmont and had a light hand with pastry, and Molly had contrived some of the sweet dishes, so there was enough to satisfy appetites, even if Lord Arthur looked a little disappointed by the scanty fare.

  “You have been spoilt by Ger’s French man-cook and all those fancy dishes he produces,” Ginny said to him, when she saw him picking at a slice of beef.

  “I daresay I have, my dear,” he said amiably. “Never lived anywhere else, you see, and Ger’s father would have everything of the very finest, and hang the expense. But the difficulty is not with my palate, but with my teeth, which are not at all what they used to be. But wine, now — I have no difficulty with wine.” He chuckled, raising his glass to her. “To Her Grace the Duchess of Falconbury - your health and happiness, my dear.”

  She blushed prettily. “I have both in abundance at the moment, Lord Arthur.”

  No one else had the least difficulty demolishing even Mrs Brine’s mangled efforts at fricassée of veal or braised lambs’ tails. The conversation was the minutiae of family life — the stiffness in Lady Anne’s knees, Lizzie’s happiness, and Michael Chandry’s dazzling progress through the saloons of London.

  “He went to Almack’s last week, would you believe, but he said it was sadly flat,” Ginny said. “He was far more excited about Lady Craston’s card party, where he and Captain Edgerton played whist against two of the Marford brothers, and won a hundred and fifty pounds.”

  “My correspondents tell me that he is likely to leave a trail of broken hearts behind him,” Ruth said. “My very strait-laced and deeply religious aunt said that she rather wished she were twenty years younger.”

  “The captain will keep him out of mischief,” Ginny said serenely. “They will be going out of town soon anyway. There has been a most interesting murder in Hartlepool, seemingly.”

  “The business is going well, then,” Ran said, his voice amused.

  Ruth had little to contribute. Her own family was back in town with both Audlyn and Susan in tow, and she could only approve of that. After losing both the Duke of Falconbury and Lord Crosby almost simultaneously, it was absolutely necessary to show smiling faces to convince the world of the family’s indifference. Audlyn, young as he was, would be a welcome distraction, and perhaps Mama had a possible future match in mind. Mama always had a match in mind.

  For herself, Ruth could only be glad to be free of her mother’s control. Free… it was a strange thing, but even though she had been transferred body and soul from her father’s care to Ran’s, yet she felt free for the first time in her life. She no longer had chaperons at her heels day and night. She was no longer repressed by her mother’s dictates, bound to her iron will. She was subject to Ran’s wishes, of course, but that was the most feather-light of constraints and she was barely aware of it. Each morning they sat in bed drinking their morning chocolate together discussing their plans for the day, and he listened to her as perhaps no one had ever done in her life before.

  She was not free of worries, of course. Ger was a constant seam of anxiety in her mind, and even as she talked equably to Mr Lorrimer on one side of her and Uncle Arthur on the other, she watched Ger covertly. She knew Ran was doing the same, for she saw his eyes drift in that direction very frequently. Tonight Ger was the very picture of contentment. His eyes fell often on Ginny, and always there was a soft gleam as he gazed at her, and a little smile playing across his lips. He was a man deep in love, and in Ruth’s newly free mind, there could be no better foundation for marriage, duke or not.

  There was only one awkward moment, when Max Lorrimer said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, “There was a last-minute acceptance from the Prestons today, so that will be seventy tomorrow, or seventy-one if Ponsonby is recovered from his head cold.”

  There was a little silence following this pronouncement, before Alice Lorrimer began some tale of a drunken groom, and the moment passed. Ruth shivered, all the same. Seventy guests, and they would be using the Gold Salo
on, the State Banqueting Room and then the State Boudoir and Music Room. Ger himself had suggested it, inviting all the local worthies and a few of the family who lived within reach to celebrate his marriage. ‘I want to see them all bow down to my duchess,’ he had said, and no arguments had deterred him. It would be a severe test, although not of the guests, who would not dare to snub a duchess, even one with such humble origins as Ginny. No, the real test would fall on Ger, and if he could face seventy guests with anything approaching equanimity, there would be hope for the future.

  ~~~~~

  Ginny looked magnificent. Even Pinnock, the most exacting judge, smiled at the sight of her. From the satin slippers of palest blue on her feet, to match the satin slip under silver-embroidered net, to the sapphire-encrusted tiara on her softly curled hair, she was every inch the duchess.

  Ruth sent up a silent prayer of thanks to Lizzie, who had rounded up a modiste of the first stare, two expert and fast seamstresses, and a carriage laden to the roof with lengths of material, and boxes of hats, stockings, slippers and half-boots, gloves and all manner of exquisitely worked fans and reticules and delicate little folderols. Two of her sisters were still at Valmont, eager to help, which had caused Lizzie to send an impassioned letter to Ruth. ‘Let Madame Poulain decide the gown, but Ginny must wear the Litherholm Sapphires. Aunt Anne will know. On no account take any advice from Etta or Alice, they have terrible taste. Lizzie Crosby. Post script - What a joy to write my name thus. Be assured my dear Luke and I are lightheaded with happiness. We will join you at Valmont in August.’

  Ruth had followed her advice to the letter, and the results were better than she had dared to hope.

  “Oh, Ginny!” breathed Lady Alice, the most romantic of Ran’s sisters. “You look like… like a queen!”

  “Heavens, a duchess is plenty high enough for me,” Ginny said, laughing. “Is it all right? I won’t put Ger to shame?”

  Madame Poulain and her helpers tittered at this jest, for jest it must surely be.