The Untold Tale of the Winter Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Emma Linfield

  “Do come in,” the widow invited them. “I’d ask your men, but there simply isn’t room. But if the boys will take this pot out to them, they can each have a sup of mulled cider and a biscuit.”

  The boys paused a moment. “Don’t worry,” she added, “I’ll save some back for you.”

  After the door closed behind the twins, the widow looked them both up and down. “How are you, Sebastian? I’m glad you found some help. You need to get a wife. It is all very well to have named an heir, but you need a few youngsters of your own. Your brothers will go off to make their way, and then where will you be?”

  “Here, I hope. Please, Mrs. Avery, I get enough matchmaking from the other widows in the village. Even Mrs. Holcomb had a say.”

  “Very well, my dear boy. But one day, you really must set up a household of your own.”

  Lillian watched and listened as Sebastian’s teacher greeted him. She hoped none of her thoughts showed on her face.

  Yes, he will marry. And I will see it happen, and must hold my tongue and maintain my single status while another takes the place that I would so love to fill. Isn’t it strange how fate can bring one almost to the promised land, and leave one looking but forever barred from going in?

  Chapter 16

  On the evening of twenty-second of December, the day after their St. Thomas Day excursion, Lillian was occupying herself with tying the pretty twigs for the maids while Sebastian read to boys. It was a wonderful education for all of them, because he was reading “The Elves and the Shoemaker,” one of the tales by the German brothers Grimm.

  Sebastian had a pleasant reading voice, but more importantly, he translated the passages as he read them first in German, then in the literal translation, and finally retold them for the boys’ benefit. Since Lillian did not speak any German at all, it was quite instructive for everyone.

  Martha Louisa, drawn by the novelty of the presentation, had brought her workbasket full of mending for the twins, and it must be confessed, for Lillian, as well. Rambles in the attics, practice bouts with wooden swords and other vigorous entertainments were beginning to take their toll on her wardrobe.

  They were well into the story when John Stableman tapped lightly at the door, then slipped inside to take up his on-duty position. He carefully kept on his proper footman face, but Lillian could tell that he was as interested in this tale told in two languages as was the rest of the audience.

  When the tale wound to its end, with the elves pulling on the clothing and diminutive shoes the cobbler had made, and then merrily skipped out of the shop never to return, Luke asked, “But why did they leave? The shoemaker and his wife gave them good things to eat and new clothes.”

  “That is one of the funny things about the Wee Folk,” Martha Louisa said, “You must never thank them, nor offer payment. You can put out a bowl of milk along with some bread and honey, but you must never acknowledge that they are there.”

  “Summat like good servants,” Mr. Stableman could contain himself no longer. “They’s like pieces o’ furniture, an’ any nobleman worth ‘is salt knows not to notice ‘em.”

  Sebastian laughed. “You are quite the card, Mr. Stableman. Are you saying that I have overstepped the bounds of good taste?”

  “Your Grace, you are a law unto yourself. You knows how to recognize us, an’ you knows when not to draw attention. It be a gift. Not ever’ one has it.”

  “It is?” Sebastian now looked genuinely puzzled.

  “Aye, that it is. An’ we be grateful for it, nor are we like to run away like yon half-pint shoemakers. Now, should I take the young sirs for their bath?”

  “Do we have to?” Nick protested.

  “Indeed, you must,” Lillian said gently. “Tomorrow you will sit in the family pew with your brother, and one of your obligations is to be a model of decorum and good breeding. If that is not enough reason, then let me add that I know that you cleaned the mouse cages today, played in the haymow before your riding lessons, and made moats in the snow melt at the top of the garden. Mrs. Blanchard directed the maids to change all the sheets so that every room would be ready in case of guests. At the very least you should respect their labors.”

  “If you do not go soon,” Sebastian added, “the water will be cold and you will be obliged to get clean in cold water as the poor are said to do.”

  “Come on, Nick,” Luke tugged at his brother’s arm. “I, for one, like a warm bath.”

  When the door closed behind the two boys, Sebastian laughed. “Will you tell me that I, also, need to bathe?”

  “Your Grace, I would not presume. But it is said that cleanliness is next to Godliness. Surely you will set a good example for your brothers?”

  “Now what can I possibly say to that? Of course I shall, nor will you need to send a strong young footman to see that I wash behind my ears.”

  “That is certainly a relief!”

  They sat in silence for a few moments. Then Sebastian said, “Miss Doyle, may I ask you a question?”

  “Of course, although I cannot vouchsafe an answer until I know what it is you would ask.”

  “How many languages do you speak?”

  Lillian felt a wave of relief wash over her. This was a question she could answer without fear. “Four. My family was gentry, not members of the peerage, and my father was only moderately successful with his investments. My brother would inherit what estate there was, so mother made sure that my sister and I were well-educated. I speak English, Welsh, French, and a little Spanish.”

  “An interesting combination. One does wonder how your mother managed that combination.”

  “Oh, that is not difficult. English because that is our native language. Welsh because our nursery maid was Welsh, and she used to tell us the most outlandish things about what she was saying when she thought we couldn’t understand. But my mother had family connections in Wales, so we spent part of each summer there. French because Mother hired a governess who spoke French and could teach it.”

  “And the Spanish?”

  “We had a cook who made the most marvelous dishes, but had a tendency to throw tantrums in his native language. Mother had wanted a French chef, but couldn’t afford one. Senor Martinez was the next best thing. What he could do with breakfast eggs was a marvel, and his soups were the stuff of dreams.”

  “Indeed. Yet you became a governess?”

  “One must eat, Your Grace. Since I… did not land an advantageous marriage, employment was essential. Little did I know that my employer was so financially embarrassed.”

  Lillian kept her eyes on the sprig she was tying as she said this. She hated lying to him, but what was the choice? If I tell him the truth, he will have no choice but to give me up to the constables. I can only hope that the news does not travel this far north of London.

  “Your mother planned for you to be a governess?”

  “Not precisely. She planned for my sister and I to be able to hold a conversation, entertain foreign guests if necessary, and with those skills to land an advantageous marriage. My sister was successful; I simply did not ‘take.’”

  “How very odd. I find your appearance and manner to be excellent. Your management of my brothers is magnificent. London must be going blind and deaf not to recognize your quality.”

  Lillian felt heat creeping up her cheeks. “You put me to the blush, Your Grace. Next you shall be telling me that I am a nonpareil.”

  Now it was the Duke’s turn to color slightly. “I am beginning to think that description might well fit. Your ability to charm my young siblings is amazing, but reasonably understandable. They are young, but they are gentlemen and they do recognize quality when they see it. They are responding accordingly. But what was truly amazing was how you charmed the Widow Holcomb. In years past, we have had to even restrain her in order to repair her roof, let alone change the bed linens and rushes.”

  “Oh. Dear me. She didn’t seem so fierce as all of that. Did you offer her chicken soup?”

 
“Only in the last two years. It is true that Mrs. Buskins’s chicken soup does seem to keep her occupied for some time.”

  “She spoke very familiarly of our cook. Is there a connection?”

  “Cousins, I believe. Of course, they grew up in the village. Everyone knows everyone here.”

  “Perhaps that was part of the problem. I get the feeling she didn’t much care for your grandfather.”

  Sebastian sighed. “They did have a bit of history, in addition to the problems with her son. I’d prefer not to divulge other people’s secrets.”

  “I understand,” Lillian replied, thinking of her own secrets that she dared not share. She tucked the last sprig into a wooden box, and put a lid over it. “I’ll set this in the snowdrift on my balcony, and they should be fresh for Christmas morning. Do you have gifts for the staff?”

  “I do.” Sebastian smiled. It was a slow, lazy smile full of both secrets and promises. “In fact, I have one that will go very well with your little sprigs. Each of the understaff will receive a silver pin that can be used to attach a nosegay or bit of greenery to their uniforms.”

  “Oh, dear. Should I make up some of these for the footmen and other gentlemen in your employ?”

  “If you wish. I think they would appreciate it, especially the two who are attached to the boys.”

  “Your brothers have been making something special for them, although they have chosen not to share that information with me. I do know that it involves the beautiful pocketknives that they received on St. Nicholas Day, so I suspect wood carving is involved.”

  “No doubt. They’ve been avid wood carvers for some time now. That is why I gave them the knives. We’ve not had any initials on desks or stair railings since you have been their governess, so I deemed it safe enough to gift them with sharp implements.”

  “They have been remarkably responsible with them, even cleaning up their shavings. If they become much more virtuous, I shall wonder if Father Christmas did not snatch them away and leave changelings in their place.”

  “Have no fear on that score. They are still boys. Just today, they tracked mud into the kitchen, filched berry tarts, and raided the cellar for apples. We shall be lucky if the apple harvest holds out until the new year.”

  “All of that? When did they do it?” Lillian felt a thrill of alarm. The boys were supposed to be under her care. When had they found time to terrorize the kitchen?

  “On the way back from their riding lesson. Mr. Gardener made the mistake of lingering to talk with the groom who is teaching them.”

  “Oh, dear! I knew I should have gone down to collect them. Mr. Gardener dotes on them, and he loves horses. They certainly took advantage of both. No wonder they were not as hungry as usual for their tea.”

  “Not to worry. If that is the worst they get up to, I count myself lucky. They aren’t bad boys, but they are lively and need nearly continuous occupation to keep them out of trouble.”

  “I think that must be all boys and some girls as well,” Lillian said gently. “Do not fret on that account. They show every sign of growing up to be considerate, caring, yet strong young gentlemen. Gentlemen in every sense of the word, not just as it has come to be used.”

  “That gives me comfort,” the Duke said. “Might I ask another question, Miss Doyle?”

  “Certainly, Your Grace.”

  “Could you find it in your heart to call me Sebastian? At least when we are in private, as we are now? I am ‘Your Grace’ far too often. Here, in the schoolroom, I would like to lay that aside.”

  Oh, dangerous waters! Do I dare do this?

  “I would consider it an honor, Sebastian. But if I call you Sebastian, then you must call me Lillian, or Lilly. Only, pray, do not shorten it to Lil. That is what my brother used to call me, before he passed.”

  “Your brother is dead?” Surprise colored Sebastian’s voice.

  “Yes. Small pox, and our parents, too. My sister and I were long out of the house by then. My sister married, and I . . . had my first position.” Technically true, since one might consider my marriage to Charles as being hired to shore up his image.

  “I am sorry to hear that. We have something in common, then, since I was bereft of my parents at a young age.”

  “I, however, did not have the burden of raising two babies while running an estate. You have done marvelously well, Y…Sebastian.”

  “Thank you. I have done my best, but you have relieved more than half my burdens with your care of my brothers. Please, be sure to let me know if you need a moment or two of relief.”

  Never, since it means that I can remain near you, even if you marry to maintain the line of inheritance.

  “I really don’t find them a burden. They have a lively curiosity, but they are tender when it counts. You should have seen them with the kitchen cat and her kittens. Not the tenderest young lady could have been gentler or more fond.”

  “That cat does have lovely kittens. It is our good fortune that she is also a good mouser, and her kits are in high demand in the village, else we would be up to our ears in adorable felines.”

  “I did notice that they were all quickly bespoken. But until they are old enough to leave their mother, I can count on morning visits to the little family as part of our routine. They are almost sufficiently fascinated to donate some of Emmy Sue’s offspring to help feed the little mama – but not quite. It does make me wonder what we shall do with all those mice.”

  “As long as they are not allowed to breed again, time will take care of that problem. Fortunately, mice only live a year or two.”

  “Not to sound ghoulish, but that is somewhat of a relief. I could easily see my future employment as keeper of the mice – ad infinitum.”

  Sebastian laughed. “Have no fear. If the boys lose interest, I will have one of the footmen see to them until they reach the end of their natural lives.”

  “How long will you keep your brothers in the schoolroom, Sebastian?” Lillian savored the name, and the small intimacy of being allowed to use it.

  “A year or two more, at the very least. Boarding schools are no joke as places to live, and boys can pick up some truly unsavory habits there. In fact, if you are amenable, we might hire a German teacher and a mathematician to augment your skills, and keep them here until they are ready to go up to Oxford.”

  “Do you think that wise? How will they learn to interact with others?”

  “Oh, there will be family parties, village affairs, and other chances for them to learn about their peers. I’m more concerned about their skills at this time.”

  “Do not concern yourself with mathematics, then. I am quite skilled. A German teacher would be nice, as would someone to train them in the correct use of a sword. I am afraid that is outside of my ability to teach.”

  “What? Something that you cannot do? I am amazed, Lillian.”

  “There are one or two things at which I am not adept,” Lillian commented dryly. “For example, Martha Louisa has quite taken over the mending. She declared that she was tired of redoing my patches and having to cut out my darns.”

  “Yet you are good at mathematics.” Sebastian shook his head in amazement.

  “I love numbers. They are orderly, and always behave predictably. Unlike the natural world, where things can change in a heartbeat.” She yawned mightily.

  “You are tired,” he said contritely. “Do not worry about putting the boys to bed. I will see to it.”

  Sebastian rose to his feet, and she rose with him. He took the last sprig from her fingers, and placed it in the box. He held her hand in his for just a moment, then hesitantly brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them.

  Lillian felt every nerve, every fiber of her being focus upon him. “Sebastian,” she breathed softly.

  “Have I offended?” he asked.

  “No,” she breathed. Then more loudly, “No, not at all.” She let her hand rest in his, scarcely knowing what to do next.

  Sebastian rested one hand against
her cheek. “I cannot imagine how the ton passed you by. Well, their loss is my gain. Have I your permission to pay you court, m’lady?”

  Lillian’s breath caught in her throat. Was she bold enough to take this step? Two years she had spent with Charles. She had risen from their marriage bed a virgin, and remained one still. Was this something she could give up so easily?

  “What did you have in mind, Your Grace?”

  “Ah, now that is a dash of cold water. Lillian, I would get to know you better. You intrigue me, and from what you have told me tonight, being a governess is a step down in your heritage, not a step up. Think of it as if you were a serving maid who is walking out with a young man she might marry. On that basis, may I pay you court?”