The Duke's Heart
Page 19
They had come so far in improving Felicity. Quite the challenge on so short an acquaintance, but there was more to teach her yet. Deportment and self-confidence could make up for the girl’s lack of dowry. What was left to be done required funds, and more time than Kitty could likely give her, if she was leaving to never come back.
It would be too painful—for her and for Sinclair.
She was possessed of funds enough to afford a dancing instructor for Felicity. An experienced seamstress to remake her wardrobe into more suitable attire for a young woman with good connections, and pay too for the cost of an experienced lady’s maid for as long as it took to get her married. That left Felicity’s mind, her opinions, to explore and cultivate.
But the damage to her distant home meant Kitty would have to make some sacrifices in the coming years. She was no longer in a position to add funds for the girl’s dowry.
She would be very sorry to miss Felicity’s first season, too, if Percy allowed her to have the experience. He would not deny her out of spite, but for reasons of economy and lack of connections. Kitty wished she could stay for the girl’s sake. But the expense of the return trip to England would be too much of a drain on her income to repeat anytime soon.
She looked about the room, wishing things could be very different. She’d not had time to find anyone else to sponsor the girl. There was only herself, Willa, and perhaps Lady Wilmot who might be applied to sponsor her.
Willa called for tea, and when it arrived, asked Felicity to pour for them as if Felicity was the hostess.
Her brother’s home lacked certain amenities needed for the girl’s education, but here in Willa’s house, she had always been made welcome. Southwark was not the place where Felicity might find a suitable husband, or somewhere Willa might care to visit, either. She and Willa had spoken about the girl last night, and Willa had offered boundless praise for Felicity’s chances of making a good match. Could Willa be persuaded to assist with launching Felicity when the time came, in Kitty’s absence?
Willa sat back with a smile, making small talk comfortably with the girl. “What shall we ladies do for the rest of the afternoon?”
“I do not know, my lady,” Felicity murmured, but her eyes were alight with the hope of something special.
Willa smiled. “I have the most marvelous idea. What do you say we ladies retire upstairs after tea and have the maids dress Miss Felicity up as if she were going to a masquerade ball? There’s always at least one each year worth attending.”
“I have always loved a masquerade.” Kitty smiled. Dressing up would be the perfect distraction from her worries. She might also determine what colors best suited her niece. White was all well and good for a debutant, but a little variety in her wardrobe would set her apart from the other girls of marriageable age. “I think that would be great fun. Let’s all pretend we are going to a ball together tonight.”
Felicity hugged Kitty, and then Willa, too.
Kitty could never want to leave such lovely affection behind if she had any choice. She wanted to stay and become a good aunt to her precious niece. If the repairs turned out to be less than her brother-in-law’s outrageous estimates, Kitty might be in a position to hurry back in time to see her married.
But she would still have to leave Sinclair behind.
She turned away from everyone and quickly wiped a tear from her eye.
Chapter 19
Sinclair sat perched in an armchair near the fire sipping tea. There was a plate of sweetmeats to his right and pastries fresh from the oven to his left. He had achieved a great deal in the last few days but he’d hardly slept or eaten. He made up for it now, devouring it all at once.
Monsieur was said to be crying in relief below stairs. His chef was quite the emotional creature when it came to uneaten plates and no guests at the duke’s table.
But the last few days of solitude and plotting had borne the hoped-for results. Sinclair had even managed to escape answering Teddy’s questions by sending him out on a hundred unnecessary errands.
He now owned a monocle. Teddy had purchased it without being asked to. He tried it on again and caught it when it fell from his face almost immediately. The thing was impossible to use. He put it aside and studied the thick piles of papers spread before him in a line with intense satisfaction. He had done all he could for now, but there was one more thing to make his world perfect.
He was waiting for the solicitor he’d summoned to arrive.
The man was not expected until later that day if the roads were good. He’d sent his men off to Dorset with instructions to bring him using any means necessary. A healthy payment would have done the trick.
A gentle tap sounded on his door, but he ignored it. All day, he had ignored the insistent knocking at his bedchamber door. He was getting in the way of his servants tidying this room, most likely. They would have to wait a little longer.
“Your grace,” Teddy called. “Are you all right?”
Sinclair winced at the query and quickly tucked his papers under the coverlet on his bed. He smoothed out the fabric and checked for telltale bumps. Sinclair had to keep this secret from Teddy until the solicitor arrived. For the past two days, he had claimed fatigue was keeping him at home.
“Hmm,” he grumbled, hoping it sounded like he was being woken up.
Not that he hadn’t taken the odd nap during the days he’s locked himself away. Keeping so many secrets was exhausting, but at last the end was in sight.
He returned his gaze to the very last paper he’s been looking at on and off all day.
It was a marriage license. An old one he’d never been able to use.
The tapping came again, and then voices could be heard beyond the heavy oak door. Sinclair looked around as the door rattled.
“Go away,” he complained, scuffing up his hair. “I told you, I do not wish to be disturbed.”
A key turned in the lock, and Percy Hunter waltzed into his bedchamber as bold as you please. There was no servant to announce him or stop him.
Sinclair surged to his feet. “How the hell did you get in my house? The knocker was removed from the front door on my orders.”
“Was it? Well, I would not know about the front door. I came in using the servants’ entrance, and since the housekeeper recognizes me now, she was more than willing to show me the way. I am under strict instructions to jolly you around if I can.”
“That was completely unnecessary,” he called out, assuming the housekeeper was lurking somewhere nearby. His housekeeper should have known better. “What did you say you were doing here?”
“Finding out if you’re dead. All reports suggest you are headed in that direction.”
“Nonsense,” Sinclair protested. “I am just a little tired.”
He grinned. “My sister will be glad to hear that.”
Percy looked over his shoulder at a sound and so did Sinclair. Teddy was standing in the open doorway now. He took the housekeepers keys from the lock. “Should I stay, your grace,” he asked, looking at Percy with undisguised suspicion.
“Do thank his grace’s housekeeper on my behalf young man. Off you go.” Percy made a shoeing motion in Teddy’s direction, which he ignored.
“Yes. Off you go,” Sinclair agreed. “Tell Cook to send up a plate of sandwiches.”
“Really, Exeter, make up your mind. One minute you call out that you are not hungry,” Percy muttered. “The next you say you are.”
The door shut and Sinclair let out a sigh. “I needed a reason to send him away again, but I assumed you might want something.”
“I could eat,” Percy said, and then his expression became amused. “Are your servants refusing to take your orders seriously again or just that one?”
Sinclair looked his old friend up and down, noticing he’d made an effort to improve his appearance since the last time they’d met. The money from the sale of his carriage contraption had already borne fruit. He hoped Kitty was pleased. “What do you want?”
“That is true,” Sinclair promised.
“And you have stayed in. Locked yourself in this room for days. No one has seen the esteemed Duke of Exeter anywhere beyond his front door in so very long.” Percy Hunter snorted. “The ton is about to fall apart, and wear out their tongues wondering if they should prepare for a funeral rather than your party.”
“I had some business to take care of.”
Percy looked around the bare room then one brow rose. “Not much business going on in here unless that is a woman you are trying to hide under the coverlet.”
Before Sinclair could stop him, Percy flung the comforter back on the bed, revealing his work. Percy studied each of the piles in silence, moving from one to another without touching, and then nodded. “Making some alterations to your last will and testament, I see.”
“Quiet,” Sinclair warned as he joined him beside the bed. “I do not want anyone to know what I am doing yet.”
“Hmm, that would cause a new flurry of gossip indeed.” Percy’s eyes strayed back to the bed. “And is that a title deed to a London townhouse?”
“Yes, a gift for a friend. Not for you. I have other plans for you that we’ll talk about later.”
Percy sighed and moved away. “Must be nice to have so much that you can just give away an entire townhouse to a friend.”
Sinclair shrugged. “It’s complicated.”
“When has anything about you ever been simple,” Percy complained. “So your health is excellent, you have been examined by three physicians, who I suppose will swear to it if anyone dares challenge your newly changed will or the gift of that house.”
“Yes,” he promised. “That is exactly right.”
“What are you doing, your grace? I hope it will not upset my plans for the winter. You will disappoint my daughter if you cancel now, and I will never have any peace then for all the wailing she will do.”
“No, it should only improve Christmas, I promise.”
Percy sat down, right next to the old and very revealing marriage license Sinclair had kept all these years. He gave it one glance, and then a second longer look. His eyes widened a little before slowly lifting to Sinclair.
The marriage license had Kitty’s name on it. Her maiden name, though.
“Momentous business indeed.”
“I can explain,” Sinclair promised, and then wet his lips. Sinclair had been confident Percy remained ignorant of his interest in Kitty. Until now, that was. He looked for signs of displeasure in his friend’s eyes, but only saw curiosity and amusement. He knew or had suspected, perhaps. “Momentous to some but utterly necessary for me. My apologies if you disapprove.”
“Better late than never,” Percy muttered. He stood again, gave the room another cursory glance, and then smiled. “You changed the drapes.”
Sinclair let out a breath at the abrupt change of subject. Clearly, Percy did not want to discuss he and Kitty at all. That was fine with him, because he was not allowed to talk about her at all still. However, he felt he had to reassure his old friend. “Some things must change, and it will be for the better, you will see.”
“Well then, I shall leave you to your momentous business and return to Lady Darrow’s home straight away.”
“You are on your way to Upper Brook Street?”
“Indeed. That is where my sister currently resides, so there I must go to fetch my daughter back. I am sure Kitty would be overwhelmed with gratitude, should you find the time to call upon her. Sooner than later, perhaps, before she wears a hole in Lady Darrow’s carpets. She worries,” Percy added with a wince. “I will see you soon too I trust, your most excellent Duke of Exeter.”
He bowed then with that exaggerated flourish of both his arms he favored and laughed all the way to the door.
Sinclair watched him go, then shook his head. Percy had done that to him as a boy, and Sinclair had stuffed his laughing mouth with earth once or twice in childish retaliation. Although tempted, he could not do it now, unfortunately. That man would be his brother-in-law soon. God help him. But as relations went, Sinclair would never have a dull moment in his life again.
Before the door could shut behind Percy, his butler slipped into the room. “The gentleman you summoned has arrived, your grace.”
Perfect timing. “At last,” he said as he threw on his coat and straightened his hair. “Now, wait a few minutes, and then have Teddy join in my study.”
Sinclair collected his stacks of papers and, clutching them to his chest so he didn’t lose any, hurried downstairs to meet the only man he could count on in this delicate matter.
Mr. George Stanwick was older than Sinclair and looked every day of his sixty-six years. “Thank you for coming,” he murmured, as he crossed the room to deposit his papers on his desk. He held out his hand to the solicitor.
“When the Duke of Exeter summons, I will always come.” The man looked at him expectantly. “How may I help you?”
“In a moment, but before we go any further, I expect your complete discretion.”
“On my honor, you have it.”
There was a tap at the door and Teddy entered.
He looked around the room, and then his eyes widened as they locked upon Stanwick—his late father’s solicitor.
Mr. Stanwick blinked.
“I see you two are already acquainted,” Sinclair murmured, knowing full well they were.
“I have known Master Thaddeus since he was a boy,” Stanwick declared, smiling now. “I feared him dead like you did, your grace. I am delighted to know I was mistaken.”
“As was I,” Sinclair agreed.
Teddy glared at Sinclair. “I am leaving.”
“I did not tell him,” Sinclair called out. “I did not break my word to you. He already knew you.”
Teddy’s jaw clenched. “But you brought him here,” he ground out. “For what purpose?”
“We have business to discuss. Please take a seat, and I will explain what I have accomplished in the last few days.”
Teddy clearly considered refusing the request, but he was a rational man and had always been respectful. That did not mean he wouldn’t leave if he did not like what he heard today.
Sinclair rounded the desk and sat down. He set his hand atop the paperwork he’d brought in. “It has been pointed out to me recently that I could live forever.”
“Could we all be so lucky,” Stanwick suggested, and then laughed.
“As you both know, I have not married and have no natural son to inherit the title. Thaddeus will inherit everything I own, most likely. But if I live a long time, for him, it could seem an eternity in wait of an expectation.”
“I do not long for the title like my father did,” Teddy protested.
“I know, and I am very glad that you are not like him. I have had time enough to discover that for myself, never fear.” He smiled. “One thing I also know is that you become surly when idle.”
Teddy stared at him, a crease forming between his brows.
“And I cannot bear to see you in livery every day for the rest of my life, so I am giving you an alternative.” He glanced to the two short stacks of papers on the right of his desk, and then the left. “I have made an alteration to my will to ensure you enjoy a comfortable life until my demise.”
Teddy’s mouth fell open. “I have never asked for anything from you.”
That was true. It was one of Teddy’s most endearing qualities and the most frustrating. “I am about to settle a substantial sum of money upon you, Teddy. A pittance compared to the vast estate I control. The money is yours to use however you see fit. Spend it, dabble in investment, give it away. Whatever makes you happiest. These funds are from my personal fortune, and are beyond the restriction of entail.”
He handed over the documentation, in
cluding the promissory note that Teddy could present to the Bank of England to accept the funds.
After a moment, Teddy lifted his head. His expression was one of complete shock. “I do not know what to say.”
Sinclair counted that a victory. “This is the deed to a property I own not far away from Mayfair. I have never lived there, and the property is empty but for a pair of servants. It is large enough to house a family—great or small. You may move there at your convenience and end this unnecessary charade of secrecy you have been perpetuating.”
“Quite right, young man. You should be honored to be the duke’s only heir.”
Sinclair cursed under his breath when Teddy’s face colored. Remarks of that nature were not going to help. He was well aware that Teddy could still refuse to accept any of it.
“This is what you have been doing these last few days?”
Sinclair nodded.
“Why now?”
“Anything to get you out of that dreadful coat and into something I can bear to look at,” he teased but then sobered. “You said your father controlled you, and that you’d given up your freedom when I dragged you to London to prepare for all this. I am giving your life back to you with interest. I must be allowed to provide you with all the trappings you should have had in life. Your father foolishly wasted your inheritance, depriving you of that security. I will not allow you to starve. You may make whatever you want of your life until the day you inherit.
He smiled quickly. “I suggest the first order of business is that you make yourself known to a decent tailor as soon as possible. A suggestion not a command. Choose someone who will not recognize the family name if you prefer to remain unconnected to me.”
“Thank you.”
“If I may have those papers, Master Thaddeus. I think I understand why the duke sent for me now.”
Teddy nodded and passed the paperwork to the old solicitor. The fellow placed his spectacles on his nose and studied each page very carefully.
Sinclair had consulted his own legal men already. Stanwick was here to support Thaddeus’ claim, should anyone be foolish enough to question how he came to have the house and funds. Stanwick set aside the settlement papers with a nod, and then picked up the property deed transfer paperwork, too.