Beth had emerged from the nursery floor bouncing from foot to foot. 'You look so pretty, Sarah. I love that gown. Do you like mine?' Her sister had twirled showing her silk stockings and the pretty pink slippers made especially to go with her new ensemble.
'It's quite delightful. Don't do that or you'll dislodge your bonnet. I believe I can hear our mama downstairs so we must hurry.'
They had then left for the chapel in the hastily cleaned travelling carriage.
Her sister had behaved impeccably and one would never have known from mama's behaviour that she wasn't perfectly well. To think that Amanda was now the Duchess of Denchester, that their mother was no longer in charge of the household – not that Mama had actually done anything much as it had all been left to Amanda to do since Papa had died.
The small party was assembling in the dining room which was overflowing with sweet smelling flowers perfect for their small celebration. It was now past eight o'clock and much later than they usually dined.
The finest napery, silverware and crystal had been set out around the table and the eight of them took their places. Richard and Amanda were, of course, at the head. Beth, Miss Westley and Mr O’Riley took seats to the left of them and she, Mama and Paul arranged themselves on the right.
Richard remained on his feet obviously intending to make a speech of some sort. Champagne was served and even Beth was given a small quantity. Sarah had accepted a glass but didn't intend to sip more than a mouthful.
'I shall keep this brief. I just want to say that this is the happiest day of my life. How I persuaded this wonderful girl to marry me, I've no idea. I would like to thank my new mama, Sarah and Beth for making me welcome and a part of their family.' He paused, raised his glass and turned to look at her sister who was incandescent with happiness. 'To my bride and to our future together.'
They raised their glasses and drank to the happy couple. Although Amanda had asked for a simple meal Cook had disregarded her wishes and there were several courses each with half a dozen removes. Obviously, the kitchen wished to make it plain that they were as delighted about the nuptials as were the family.
The conversation was lively, the champagne flowed and by the time her sister stood two hours had gone by and it was long past Beth's bedtime. Richard refused to remain behind to drink port with the other two gentlemen and followed his wife into the drawing room.
'Sarah, I know we agreed there should be a waltz or two but I'm not sure in the circumstances it would be wise.'
There was no need for her sister to say that they were all far too full to skip about and a great deal of champagne had been consumed – goodness knows how much more the gentlemen had imbibed than the ladies.
'Beth has retired with Miss Westley, Mama is hiding her yawns behind her hand, so I think I'll be content with a stroll in the garden.'
Mr O’Riley bowed and bid everyone good night which just left the four of them. Richard had his arm around Amanda's waist and was whispering into her ear. Sarah didn't know exactly what took place in the marital bed but wasn't so naïve that she didn't understand the newly married couple were eager to retire.
'Mr Marchand, would you be kind enough to accompany me to the lake and back? Good night Richard, good night Amanda. Your wedding was perfect and the wedding breakfast quite delicious.'
Only as she was about to make her way down the granite steps to the formal gardens did she realise that she shouldn't be wandering about in the dark on her own with a gentleman. Fortunately, for both of their reputations, he was more awake to the dangers than she.
'Forgive me, Lady Sarah, but I think it too late to walk about the grounds. I should be delighted to accompany you tomorrow but I too am fatigued after the long journey.'
'I'd quite forgotten about your mad dash through the countryside to find my mother. I apologise – what was I thinking?'
She spun, curtsied and without bidding him a good night, fled back into the house alone. He was a most unsettling sort of gentleman and she regretted her impulsive request to work with him on the planning of the summer party.
Her maid was waiting to help her disrobe and soon her lovely gown was safely in the closet. As she slipped into bed everything was different and it wasn't just the fact that her sister was no longer in the adjacent bedchamber. Something else had changed. Was it her mother's mental instability that was causing her to feel so agitated or was it something else entirely?
*
Richard had his arm lightly around Amanda's waist as he guided her through the house and towards his now to be shared accommodation. She was trembling beneath his touch. Instead of going directly into his bedchamber he took her to the sitting room.
'My darling, there's nothing to be afraid of. What happens between a man and his wife is a joyful experience for both of them. I give you my word that I'll do nothing to upset you.'
She stepped away from him but kept his hand in hers. 'It's not fear but excitement which makes me shake. I love you so much and wish to learn everything there is to know about being a wife.'
He snatched her up in his arms and barged through the communicating door. His valet and her dresser had been told to wait until they were called for before putting in an appearance.
She sat where he placed her on the edge of the vast tester bed and watched him rip off his clothes with unfeigned interest. He cursed his clumsiness and hopped from foot to foot in an effort to remove his boots.
Her laugh filled the chamber. 'Let me help you, my love, and then you can help me.'
In record time they tumbled, as nature intended, into bed.
Some hours later he propped himself on his elbow to watch her sleep. If the good Lord chose to take him this very moment, he could die a happy man. He'd had his share of amorous relationships but nothing had prepared him for this. Sharing his body with the woman he loved was more than he could have dreamt of.
He understood now why men and women did such foolish things in the name of love. He was a changed man. From this moment forward he would love her, keep her safe, do everything in his power to make her as happy as he was.
Her glorious hair was spread across the pillows and tenderly he removed the strands that were resting across her face. Her eyes flickered open.
'Good morning, husband. Is it time to get up already?'
He leaned down and kissed her. 'Absolutely not.'
When eventually hunger drove them from between the sheets the sun was already beginning to set. He pulled on his bedrobe and she did the same.
She tilted her head and sniffed. 'I can smell rose water – I believe our wishes have been anticipated and there might be a bath awaiting us.'
He moved across to the newfangled bathing room that his predecessor had installed here and pushed the door open with his foot. The waft of fragrant steam confirmed her suspicions.
'You bathe first, sweetheart, I'll organise for some trays to be fetched.' He looked around his chamber. Garments were strewn across the floor and the less said about the bed the better. 'We shall decamp to your room, darling, and leave the maids to put this straight.'
She drifted past him but paused to stand on tiptoes and place a loving kiss his lips. 'I never thought to marry and especially not someone as handsome and wonderful as you. I don't understand how you can call me beautiful when I have such a disfigurement.'
He drew her close. 'I told you when I first saw the scars caused by your riding accident some years ago that they would be no barrier to finding love. You scarcely limp at all nowadays, it's only perceptible when you're tired or upset. I don't give a damn about it and never have. I love you inside and out and that will never change.'
Before he could make good on his intentions she was gone and he heard her stepping into the bath. He poured cold water into the basin and plunged his head in. It had the required effect and he was now no longer embarrassed by his desire and could safely pull the bell-strap.
He was tempted to join her but decided against it. When she emerged, her che
eks flushed and her eyes sparkling, it took all his self-control to keep her at arm's length.
'There's a cold collation set out in the sitting room. To accompany our repast there's freshly made lemonade, champagne and coffee – I wasn't sure which you would prefer.'
'Coffee is exactly what I want. Forgive me, but I'm so hungry I intend to start without you.'
'There's more than enough there for several meals. I won't be long.' As he was luxuriating in the tepid water he remembered that he'd neglected to tell her they were to go away the following morning.
He sat up so abruptly a deluge slopped over the side. He ignored it. 'Sweetheart,' he yelled, 'tomorrow I'm taking you to the coast for a week. I have a small estate overlooking the sea…'
The door flew open and she stood, a sandwich clutched in one hand, and stared at him. 'There's no need to shout in that unmannerly fashion, Richard. You're no longer on the parade ground.'
He grinned. 'I beg your pardon, my love. Is that for me?'
'It certainly isn't. If you wish to eat then you must get out of that bath. Eating in the bath? What an extraordinary suggestion!'
The appetising aroma of horseradish and beef from her hand curtailed his ablutions. He stood up sending a second tidal wave onto the boards. His years as a military man, having little time for personal care, meant he was dried and beside her in minutes.
'Here you are, dearest, I've prepared this for you.' She handed him a plate piled with bread and meat. 'There's coffee on the table. I've never been to the beach – thank you so much for arranging a wedding trip even if it is only to be for a sennight.'
'I thought we could take the barouche rather than a closed carriage. What do you think?'
'I suppose we'll have to take your valet and my maid as well as luggage and two grooms.'
She sounded so despondent at the prospect that he chuckled. 'It's no more than three hours and would be less if we rode. Would you prefer to do that? Then our servants can travel in the carriage with our bags.'
'There's a phaeton in the coach house – what I'd really like to do is have you drive me in that.'
He considered her request for a moment and then nodded. 'Then that's what we'll do. If we get up at first light we can be there in time for breakfast. I've already sent half a dozen staff ahead of us to prepare the house.'
'I'm impressed by your efficiency, my dear. When did you have time to organise this?'
'I'm a military man to my core, darling girl, not an effete aristocrat. Become accustomed to my ability to set things in motion when necessary.'
She curtsied and her bedrobe parted. He discarded his food and held out his hand. She came to him willingly. Some considerable time later they returned to the buffet and the food tasted none the worse for the wait.
Chapter Thirteen
Paul settled into his new abode with Patrick and was satisfied his life had taken a turn for the better. They had a cook, several maids, a footman, plus a groom to take care of the horses. There were already outside men employed for the upkeep of the extensive grounds of the Denchester family estate whilst the new edifice was built.
A pony cart was employed to bring all the necessary ledgers and documents from Radley Manor so both himself and Patrick could take care of their duties efficiently. Overall control remained with the duke and Paul sincerely hoped that he'd not removed items that were no concern of his.
Patrick reassured him. 'He'll not bite your head off if you have. He's right fierce if you cross him but's always a fair man. Didn't hold with flogging, and discipline in his brigade was the better for it.'
'I need to go to Ipswich and find myself a tailor. I don't intend to continue wearing the garments of a dead duke any longer than I have to. I can't see that there's anything pressing for me to do today – I've set up interviews with the factor for tomorrow morning and will then begin to visit all the properties in the locality.'
'I've papers to take to the lawyers' office in Ipswich so we can ride together. It's no more than an hour and a half from here so we'll get there and back easily before dark.'
Paul was fortunate to have had recommended to him a tailor who had a small shop away from the main street. He made his selections, was measured, paid a substantial deposit to show he was in good faith, and was told the first of his jackets, waistcoats and breeches would be ready the following week.
The stooped old man handed him a brown paper wrapped parcel. 'There you are, sir, three shirts, a dozen stocks and half a dozen pairs of stockings. I thank you for your custom and will have the first outfit delivered to you as soon as maybe.'
'Excellent. I have an hour or so to spare so is there somewhere particular you would recommend that I go to admire?'
'It's always busy at the port and well worth a look. I bid you good day, Mr Marchand.'
Using the directions given to him Paul walked briskly in the direction of the river. The town was busy, the noise of manufacturing echoed from several streets. The pedestrians appeared well-dressed and looked prosperous. Mind you, he avoided the poorer areas – it would be unwise for someone like himself to wander there unescorted.
He'd agreed to meet up with Patrick at a local hostelry to dine at six o'clock. This gave him ample time to explore the town that would be the centre of his life from now on. He passed an assembly room and saw that there was to be a subscription ball to be held that very evening.
The port had a dozen or more ships tied up along the riverbank and he spent a happy hour watching as cargoes were loaded and unloaded. Reluctantly he turned and made his way to the agreed meeting place.
Patrick had yet to arrive so he ordered a tankard of porter and found himself a quiet corner to wait. By seven o'clock he was seriously concerned about the absence of his friend. He tossed a few coins to the barman and headed for the street in which the lawyers' office was situated.
He bounded up the steps and marched into the vestibule. The clerk all but fell from his stool at his precipitate arrival.
'My friend, Mr O’Riley, his grace, the Duke of Denchester's man of business, was here earlier. What time did he leave?'
'Mr O’Riley departed two hours ago, sir.'
'Did he say where he was going?'
'Not to me, sir, but I'll ask Mr Culley to speak to you if you would be kind enough to wait.'
The clerk returned and this time he was accompanied by a younger man – presumably Mr Culley.
'Mr O’Riley said he was going to the port and then to meet a friend at The Kings Head. I assume, sir, you are the gentleman he was referring to.'
'I am. I waited over an hour but he failed to appear. I was at the port myself earlier but didn't see him. He's head and shoulders above most men and I'm sure if he'd been there I would have seen him.'
'This is most disturbing news. To whom do I have the honour of speaking?'
'I am Marchand, recently appointed as estate manager to his grace.' Paul offered his hand and the lawyer shook it. He decided to take a chance and explain why the disappearance of O’Riley was such a concern.
'There's something you need to know. We need to converse in private.'
He was ushered to a large, well-appointed office which had two windows overlooking a pretty garden. This man must be a senior partner to have such a chamber. He quickly explained the circumstances.
'Then I have the worst possible news for you. My clerk has reported seeing four redcoats loitering on the other side of the street several times this week. I fear Mr O’Riley has been apprehended.'
'God's teeth! We should have taken you into our confidence at the start and then you could have warned him. His grace has taken his new duchess for a short wedding trip to a small estate that overlooks the sea near Norwich. I'm hoping that you might have his destination.'
'I certainly do, I know exactly where his grace has gone.'
Once he had the name and directions, he left the premises at a run. His instructions were clear and he knew the landmarks he was to look out for if he travelled ac
ross country. He collected his mount and left sufficient blunt to pay for the keep of Patrick's horse until it could be collected.
Both he and his gelding were blown when they thundered to the front door of the manor house, scattering gravel as he pulled the beast into a rearing halt. It was now almost dark and his arrival had not been seen from the house.
He pulled the reins over the animal's ears and hoped it would remain where it was until a groom could attend to its needs. His thunderous knocking was answered immediately.
He stepped around the shocked footman. 'I need to speak to his grace urgently.'
'His grace has retired. More than my life's worth to disturb him, sir.'
'Then tell me which chamber he's in and I'll rouse him myself. This matter cannot wait.'
*
Richard, having just made passionate love to his wife, was relaxing, satiated and content when someone had the temerity to hammer on the door. Before he could react a voice he recognised spoke loudly to him.
'Your grace, forgive me for disturbing you, but Patrick has been taken. Four soldiers were waiting outside the lawyers' office and he has been gone since five o'clock.'
Amanda was sitting up beside him, the bedsheet clutched under her chin, her eyes wide. 'You must go, my love. His safety is paramount. I'll return home tomorrow and await you there.'
He kissed her but his mind was already focusing on this disaster. He was dressed and ready to ride scarcely a quarter of an hour after being roused. He discovered Paul devouring a meat sandwich in the entrance hall, an empty tankard beside him.
'My horse is done. I've taken the liberty of having two of your carriage horses saddled. They are both up to our weight but unfamiliar with being ridden which might well make our journey interesting.'
'Good man. The only way they could have taken Patrick was if they knocked him insensible. This will make it hard for them to transport him and, when he does come around, he will make things as difficult as possible in the hope that we'll catch up with him.
The Duke's Decision (The Reluctant Duke Book 2) Page 12