The Colonel and The Enchantress (An Enchantress Novel Book 4)

by Paullett Golden

  So long was the day, Duncan missed supper. To his dismay, he even missed reading to Bernard. The boy was fast asleep when he arrived in the nursery. Even Mary was breathing deeply, her inhales punctuated with soft ladylike snores.

  The night before had been far more enjoyable with Robin joining them for supper. It was good to talk to someone who understood. There was a kinship between soldiers, sentiments understood that never need be spoken. There were those like Charles Brumley, now Lord Altonwey, and then there were those like Robin. Too many officers were like Altonwey, pompous, arrogant fools. They flexed their muscles and preened their feathers but let the enlisted do the work. The few, the good, were like Robin. They kept their muscles and feathers to themselves and rode in formation, sacrificing themselves to protect their men. Duncan could relate to Robin. He could not relate to Altonwey. It was the good men who paid in the end, of course.

  He wondered if Mary could understand. Altonwey was from her world. Robin was not. Could she understand that some friendships broke social barriers? When he had come to bed the night before, she had been angry, though she had not explained why. He suspected it was because she did not like Robin, proving she did not understand what Robin had been through or why Duncan valued his newfound friendship.

  As exhausted as he had been and as angry as she had been, they had coupled well into the darkness of night, even past the death of the hearth fire. She took out her anger with a passionate vigor, a neediness only he could satiate.

  Tonight he dared not wake her. His body was beyond the point of exhaustion. Once the contract was signed, he would make it up to her. Only a couple more months.

  Duncan nestled next to her warm body, wrapping his arm around her and nudging his hand between her bare breasts. Inhaling that lovely lavender scent that was home to him, he tugged her close.

  The next day, he woke before Mary. Her head rested on his chest, her legs twined with his. He extricated himself as gently and silently as he could, not wanting to wake her. It would be another grueling day. He needed to work on the leaps, an eighteen-day training schedule that would move from leaping over bars and narrow trenches to leaping at a gallop over hedgerows and wide ditches. They had only just begun training to leap over a bar.

  He worried he was pushing the horses too quickly. Ideally, they should be spending a month on each training block, not a week. As it was, he was doubling up the training to teaching each month’s worth of skills per week. Thank heavens for studious and tame horses.

  But how much time would he lose with her family here? He could not spend all day, every day, training horses with them present. In a small way, he resented their coming. The timing was terrible.

  Once dressed in his riding gear, he trudged to the stables. He would start the morning with a ride on Caesar, then take out the breeding stallion Galileo. The mares and Athena could wait for Mary or the grooms. As soon as Robin arrived, they would begin training in earnest. The young man was set to arrive at sunrise, plenty of time for Duncan to take out the stallions by pre-dawn light.

  For the whole of the morning, he bemoaned his exhaustion. It had been a good night’s sleep, but his body disagreed. It felt as worn as the night before. To his embarrassment, he stumbled twice in the stables. His feet dragged. Acutely, he was aware of the disadvantage not to feel his feet, something he had not worried about in some time since he was now well-accustomed to walking by the feel of his hip’s gait.

  The sooner the London trip, and the sooner this contract was signed, the better. If he could hand over the training to someone competent, he would, but no one could do this as efficiently as he, and he would not risk it until he knew for certain the instructors were competent enough to replace him as trainer.

  He worked through nuncheon, worked through tea, and though he was starving, missed supper yet again. As with the day before, Bernard was asleep when he slipped into the nursery. At least Cook had left him a covered plate in the kitchen, which he devoured with relish before heading to his dressing room to wash off the stench of horse sweat and dress in a nightshirt and robe.

  This time, when he arrived in the bedchamber, Mary was not asleep in bed.

  Duncan’s wife sat at the table by the hearth, drumming her fingers.

  “Mary, love, why are you still awake?”

  One look told him she did not have a migraine. Her foot tapped the same irritation as her fingers, her lips pressed together. She glowered at him from across the room.

  “I could ask you the same question,” she countered.

  Running a hand through his hair, he said, “You know what I’ve been doing. I hadn’t meant to keep you awake. As kind as it is, you needn’t wait for me.”

  She bit back a laugh, her lips twisting in anger. “I needn’t wait for you for anything, for you’re nothing more than a ghost. You’ve given me four days in two weeks. Those four days were hard won. Your son hasn’t seen you once in two days, and before that, he could only see you if he braved the snow. Do you even know if he’s well or still sniffling? Rather than spend time with us, you’re with that dreadful man all day. Is his company so much better?”

  Duncan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the bedpost. “He’s not dreadful. He’s helpful. And you know very well I’d rather spend time with you and Bernard than outside in the cold or with someone I’ve only just met.”

  “Prove it. Let the stablemaster do his job. We’ve already been through this conversation. Do I need to explain the problem all over again?”

  “This isn’t my choice, Mary, but something I have to do to make our dreams a reality. Those four days stalled the training. The grooms did their best, but their best wasn’t good enough. I’ve had to spend precious time retraining what they were supposed to have done. And now I wonder what’s to happen when your family arrives. I’ll lose more time. My only hope is that Robin can fill my role for the time I’m not there.”

  “You trust him more than me? You won’t allow us to train together, but you’ll allow him to train in your absence?”

  “He knows warhorses. You don’t.”

  “Yes, I’m quite the dunce when it comes to horses. And such a great trainer is he that he needs to join us for dinner, as well?”

  “Once. I’ve invited him once. Our acquaintance may be brief, but there’s a kind of bond men share over war. You can’t understand what that means. I appreciate and value him as a fellow soldier.”

  With a laugh, she said, “I appreciate and value the chambermaid, but I don’t invite her to dinner.”

  “Can’t you hear yourself, Mary? You sound like your mother. You hold his station in life over his head just as your mother would. Is this how you would have seen me had we not been neighbors? Robin is a fellow officer, and though his upbringing may be common, he comes from gentry, not unlike my own family. He understands me and what I’ve been through in ways no one else can.”

  In hushed tones, every few words cracking, Mary said, “Why can’t I be the person who understands? Why won’t you let me in?”

  He rested his forehead against the bedpost. “There are things I can’t and won’t explain. What Robin understands is the same any devoted soldier would, things we understand without saying.”

  The hearth fire crackled in the silence that stretched. Despite the warmth, Duncan felt chilled. He wanted nothing more than to take Mary to bed.

  Not until she touched his arm did he realize she had moved from the chair.

  Squeezing his forearm, she said, “We’re supposed to be partners. In everything. The program, raising Bernard, our marriage. I chose you because you always treated me as an equal. Now, you’re treating me as some vapid woman. You can’t keep doing everything on your own, not only because we should be doing them together, but because you’re exhausting yourself. You may not see the dark circles beneath your eyes, but I do.”

  He wrapped an arm about her w
aist and pulled her to him. “Let me get through this training, and we’ll sort it all out then.”

  She pushed away from him. “You’re not listening. Are you doing all of this to pretend you’re still in the Army? To forget you’ve married me? I overheard you, you know. I overheard you tell that man you wouldn’t have left.”

  “Oh, Mary, no, no, no. Whatever you overheard isn’t the whole of it. No, I didn’t want to leave the Army, but neither did I want to be without you. I thank the injury for forcing my hand. If given the chance, I wouldn’t go back, not now, not ever. You’re my world now.”

  Stepping to him again, she rested her cheek on his shoulder. “Then quit all this foolishness. I would rather have you than this program. I wish I had never told you I wanted anything to do with horses. Had I known then, I would never have breathed a word.”

  Why did she not understand how important this was?

  Duncan rubbed her back before saying, “Once this is over, you’ll think differently. I’m going to make this a program you’re proud of. We’ve only a couple more months.”

  Throwing her hands in the air, she walked away from him.

  Chapter 24

  The Duke and Duchess of Annick arrived two days after Christmas Day. They did not come alone. Accompanying them were Theo and Catherine.

  Mary nearly swooned when she saw her mother exit the carriage. Her saving grace was Theodore wrapping arms around her leg and wanting to be picked up, a novel occasion since he typically did not like being carried about. She focused her attention on him, avoiding confronting her mother who eyed every frozen ornament, plant, and stone of the outside of the hall. Though Catherine’s features remained as icy as the weather, Mary detected a sneer beneath the haughty veneer.

  Despite the presence of her mother, Mary looked forward to her family’s visit. The past two days had been difficult. Other than attending church on Christmas Day, she and Duncan had not spent more than their evenings together since the argument. Their interactions were tense, each believing themselves in the right. She saw his perspective. Really, she did. But she did not think he saw hers. What was this contract worth if by the end of it he was worn too thin? What was it worth if their relationship unraveled before London? And who was to say he would relinquish control of the training even after the contract?

  With her family present, she could put all such thoughts away and enjoy company. Bernard had been beyond excited at the prospects of playing with his cousin Theo. Mary had not the heart to mention Theo was all work and no play. Maybe Bernard would be good for him.

  Oh dear. She had never breathed a word of Bernard to her mother. Did Catherine know? Surely, she must. Mary was surprised the dowager duchess even deigned to stay at the hall with an illegitimate child under the same roof. Catherine had at one time refused to visit her nephew’s new baby because her illegitimate niece would be in residence as midwife. People did not change, least of all her mother. And yet the woman was here.

  With Bernard at Mary’s side and Theo on her hip, she eyed her mother as the dowager duchess walked about to peer through the garden gate, the gold-handled cane crunching against the gravel as she explored.

  Drake and Duncan spoke as Charlotte approached to kiss Mary on the cheek.

  Charlotte looked radiant. Her cheeks were pink and round. Impending motherhood became her. With the high-waisted, fur-lined pelisse, her pregnancy was noticeable, a sizable mound outlined in fashionable wool. Mary was uncertain when the baby was due, but she wondered if her sister-in-law would make it to London for the Season.

  “You look wonderful!” Charlotte exclaimed. “There’s a rosiness to your cheeks that’s most becoming. Married life suits you as well as it does me.”

  Mary hoped Charlotte did not think her with child. She most certainly was not. Her courses had begun that morning, late but arrived nevertheless. She also hoped Charlotte would not take too long of a look at Duncan for the dark half-moons under his eyes did him no justice. Though he slept well each night, he was not eating as he should, and he was working sunrise to sunset in the cold. It was any wonder he had not yet collapsed. She could not see how he could continue for another two months and two weeks.

  A hand resting on her belly, Charlotte leaned in to whisper. “The you know what is arriving with the luggage carriage. Though we stayed at the village inn, they managed to fall behind us. They should be along shortly. Let’s get everyone inside so he doesn’t see until we’re ready.”

  Mary nodded, setting Theo down. Bernard wasted no time in taking his cousin’s hand and dragging the boy inside with him.

  “Come, everyone,” Mary said. “We have tea in the drawing room.”

  Catherine was the first to accept the invitation, though she cast Duncan a long and assessing look before entering Sidwell Hall.

  Spirits were high as the family took tea. Duncan’s expression brightened with each passing minute, appearing to enjoy the camaraderie with his brother-in-law and the questions Charlotte volleyed about Starrett & Starrett’s Cavalry Program. Catherine kept her mouth busy by nursing her teacup, listening to every word but saying nothing. Mary could feel her judgement as a looming cloud.

  Bernard and Theodore spent most of the time in the nursery with Mrs. Eloise. Thrice, they made brave escapes to race into the room and antagonize the adults, much to the chagrin of the nanny who was unaccustomed to keeping up with a hyper Bernard, usually quiet and well-behaved, much less two hyper boys.

  Charlotte tittered each time Theo ran into the room, his hand in Bernard’s, inseparable from his new best friend. “He’s normally a strict follower of rules,” she said as he raced back out of the room to follow the nanny and Bernard back to the nursery.

  Mary had to agree with Charlotte. Never had she seen Theo so active or so wild, and yet here he was, racing in and out of a forbidden room as though he were a street urchin.

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” Charlotte said.

  Mary’s eyes flitted to Catherine, thinking she could read the woman’s mind. It’s the company he’s currently keeping, she would be thinking. Bernard, the bad influence, for all illegitimate children were born of bad blood.

  Drake laughed, “Denial, wife. Denial. You can deny it all you like, but he’s mischievous when your back is turned. And I know just where he gets his antics.” He winked, sending the duchess into a deep blush.

  Mary refilled teacups and added new sandwiches and biscuits to each plate. “How are the Roddams? How’s Mr. Trethow? I would have dearly loved to join you all, but we’ve been busy with the program. With the trip to London so soon at hand, we daren’t leave the training to servants.”

  Her eyes met Duncan’s. He had not the courtesy to look abashed.

  Did she resent that they had not celebrated Christmas Day? She supposed a little. Such a day had meant nothing at Lyonn Manor during her youth. Now that she had her own family, she wanted Bernard and any future children to know what it was to have family and good spirits.

  “Splendid!” Drake said, his ringed fingers rubbing together with clinks of gold. “Our cousin, Lord Grumpy, didn’t dare rain on the festivities. I believe I even saw him smile when he thought no one was looking. Lizbeth kept the children entertained. Mr. Trethow is the most devoted grandpapa a child could ask for. He kept them playing pantomime well past their bedtime.”

  “How are the children?” Mary asked.

  “Good. They’re children. What more is there to say?” Drake laughed.

  Charlotte scoffed. “Men are terrible at this sort of thing. Freya has taken over the castle as lady of the manor since Lizbeth is in a delicate way. She bossed around the staff, ordered about the guests, and was as superior as a four-year-old could be. Her brother Cuthbert followed her everywhere to undermine her authority and undo all her actions. If she brought Lizbeth an herbal tea, he put one of her dolls into the teacup before Lizzie could drink it. I
f she brought Lizbeth a book from the library, he swapped it with a hairbrush.”

  Mary enjoyed the visual far more than anyone. Long hours she had spent in the nursery each time they visited Lyonn Manor.

  Duncan turned to Drake. “What’s this concert that brings you to Durham?”

  “While my cousin invests his wealth, I can’t give mine away fast enough,” he said with a laugh. “All of my operas are written for charity. This one’s for a little lying-in hospital not far from here. They’ve opened their doors thanks to some old man’s trust—” he winced and laughed when Charlotte poked him in the side. “I mean, a notably generous benefactor, by way of a viscount, entrusted his money to open the hospital. I’m here to celebrate with a charity concert. All proceeds go to the hospital. If my fame as a composer is anything to judge by, they should be set for years to come.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes at her husband’s arrogance.

  The drawing room door swung open to two stomping boys, the wheeled horse on a string bouncing behind them. Theodore ran past everyone and clambered onto his grandmama’s lap.

  Mary froze, the rim of her teacup touching her lips.

  Catherine frowned at the boy.

  In a voice of disdain, the dowager duchess said, “This is not how the Marquess of Sutton behaves, and certainly not the heir to the dukedom.”

  Theo ignored her, burying his head against her bosom. “Want one, Grandmama. Best toy ever. Want. Want. Want.” He tugged at the wheeled horse.

  Bernard walked up to them and picked up the horse. “Please, can he? It is the best toy ever. Mummy gave it to me.”

  He pointed at Mary. All eyes turned her direction. Her teacup remained poised.

  Bernard set down the horse, moved the rope into Catherine’s hand in case she might want to give it a tug, and then tried to climb on her lap next to Theo.