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

by Emma Linfield

  “Is it out?” Evans asked.

  “Yes. We left a crew on fire-watch, but it didn’t spread much beyond the building thanks to the snow on the ground. Perhaps when it is daylight, some of my hunters can look through the ashes and see if they can learn more. But there might not be much to learn. The firefighting crew would have trampled most sign, and I’ll not fault them for doing their best to put the blaze out before it spread.”

  “Fortunate that it did not make it into the trees. It is to be hoped that we will see no more of that. If it had been the barns nearer the castle or the village, it could have left us starving.”

  “You have the sad truth of it, Evans. How are the villagers settling down?”

  “Cramped and worried, Your Grace. Some of them are likely to go check their holdings at the very least come first light.”

  “It might be wise to hold them here a day or two, with the weather as it is. Easier by far to heat one or two buildings than two dozen or more.”

  “Is it so bad as that out, Your Grace?”

  “Evans, I am that short on sleep I am sure what I am saying. But it is snowing again, and I like not the look of the weather. The clouds are low and thick. Hear me go on! You would think I was a graybeard. Next, I’ll be complaining of my aching joints.”

  “Not at all, Your Grace. It is said that all is well that ends well. And if your joints ache, it is no wonder what with being out in the snow and all. Perhaps a hot bath?”

  “I’ll look in on my brothers and on Miss Doyle, then, yes, a hot bath in front of a fire nicely contained on my own hearth would be a welcome comfort.”

  “I’ll see to it at once, Your Grace.”

  Entering the schoolroom was nearly a replay of entering the castle down below. Mr. Gardener met Sebastian at the door and said, soto voce, “They could see the fire flickering on the walls, even with the curtains drawn. I’ve just now been able to settle them to sleep with the news that all were safely returned from fighting it. Do you wish to look in on them?”

  “I do,” Sebastian said, with a little more emotion than he had anticipated. He had not realized that there had been a gnawing anxiety that perhaps while most of the village were dousing the blaze, that someone might have sneaked into the castle. Some of his guards were veterans, retired from military service, but others were grass-green boys who scarcely knew one end of a saber from the other.

  Something tight and anxious began to unknot in his chest as he viewed the two sleepers, spotted as they were with measles and a little flushed from the heat in the room.

  They withdrew from the room, and Mr. Gardner, with unexpected familiarity, squeezed his shoulder. “We’ve taken good care of them, Your Grace.”

  While he probably should have been affronted by the forwardness, Sebastian felt tears welling up in his eyes. “Thank you. And thank Mr. Stableman when he wakes. They are dearer to me than I can say.”

  “I have brothers, Your Grace.”

  Sebastian nodded, and lightly clapped Mr. Gardener on the shoulder. “Quite so, quite so. I’ll go look in on Miss Doyle now, then I’ll go clean the stink of the fire watch off my skin. Mayhap I should have done that first, but I think I’ll have no energy by then.”

  Sebastian slipped out of the boys’ suite, went across the hall and tapped lightly at Miss Doyle’s door. Hearing no reply, he gently opened the door and was met with an amusing sight. Martha Louisa sat in one of the wing back chairs by the fireplace. The curtains were draw around Lillian’s bed, and a slender maid sat by her side singing a mournful ballad about a maiden drawn from the sea.

  When the maid saw Sebastian, she stood up and came to him. “I’m Sarah,” she said. “I was new-hired just before St. Nicholas Day. You must be Lord Sebastian.”

  “I am,” he replied, trying to remember hiring this young woman. “I’d like to look in on Miss Doyle. There is no need to wake her.”

  “I’m awake,” Lillian’s voice called. “Is that you, Your Grace?”

  “Indeed, it is,” Sebastian replied, feeling another knot in his chest untie. Disregarding the maid, he crossed the room and carefully peered behind the curtain.

  Lillian’s face had more dots on it than his brothers, and even the hand that she used to clutch the coverlet was broken out.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Much better, Your Grace. Sarah has been amusing me, for it is very dull to sit here in the dark. But you must be quite worn out if you spent the night fighting a fire.”

  “I’m afraid my role was more that of water boy and observer, but I’ll own to a bit of fatigue. I wanted to see how you got on before I retired.”

  “Do not let me keep you, Your Grace,” Lillian said. “I am feeling much better. It is said that boredom in convalescence is a good thing.”

  “I believe that is correct. Now that I am reassured of your well-being, I will go wash off some of this soot and retire for a time.”

  With that, Sebastian excused himself, carefully not waking Martha Louisa. He knew that the loyal serving woman had worn herself to a thread looking after Lillian and helping settle the villagers. He felt no compunction about letting her doze by the fire.

  Chapter 33

  The following morning, the castle was a-clamor with people up and moving about. Having snatched an hour or two of sleep in his bed after nearly dozing off in the tub, Sebastian gave up trying to sleep through the noise. Instead, he rose, dressed and went downstairs to see what was going on.

  “ . . . broken into, and three great rounds of cheese stolt,” a woman’s voice drifted up the main stairwell. “I want to talk to the Duke, I do. Did he get us up here just to have our houses broken into? Was all that hullabaloo about fires in the trees just a way to put us all into one place?”

  A man’s voice rumbled beside her, the sound too indistinct to make out. Definitely time to get up. What can be going on?

  When Sebastian reached the top of the stair and looked down into the foyer, he saw a tall woman in a dairy maid’s uniform struggling against two equally tall men who just happened to outweigh the woman. Still, it was clear that she was determined to break free of them and that they were hard pressed to restrain her without hurting her.

  “What is going on?” Sebastian bellowed across the chaos. Is that really my voice? I do not think I have ever raised it like that. All noise ceased, and everyone looked up at where he stood. “Will someone please explain all this unseemly noise?”

  The two men stepped back from the woman, releasing her. “I left my littles with my mother, Your Grace, and went home to check on things. Someone had broken in, and they stolt three cheeses that I was savin’ fer tha Twelfth Night celebration, should anyone be well enough to have one.”

  “That is unfortunate. Has anyone else checked their houses? Quickly now, let’s have a tally of what has happened.”

  There was a babble of voices, then the cooper appeared at the door. “Bad news, Your Grace,” he called out. “Two new barrels…”

  His voice was lost in more babble. “Quiet!” Sebastian bellowed. Then he looked at the cooper. “Can you read and write?”

  “I can do me sums and keep records o’ me barrels,” the cooper said.

  “Good. You are now going to be a clerk. Everyone, line up and one at a time, tell the cooper what is missing. It is clear that the fire was a diversion, but I am not sorry to have the good people of Parkforton safe and sound. All else can be sorted out.”

  In his heart, Sebastian knew it was not quite that simple. If enough things had been stolen, Parkforton might have a hard time feeding its own. He stood by the cooper long enough to realize that most of the things that had been stolen were food. Even so, for his people to return to their homes could be dangerous. On the other hand, the castle itself was not impervious to infiltration or attack. They would all need to be alert for changes that could not be accounted for in the ordinary way.

  Just as he was pondering the situation, the constable appeared at his elbow. “Quite
a mess, Your Grace,” he said. “Will you still have enough to winter your people over?”

  “I trust that I shall,” Sebastian replied. “But how might I help you, Constable?”

  “Mayhap it is more how I might help you, Your Grace. Would you be willing to allow me to examine the areas and homes from which items were stolen?”

  “I would, if you believe you can be of assistance, I will be more than glad to have your assistance. This is a fell blow that has befallen us.”

  “I can see that,” the constable nodded. “Let me go about with the people who are going back to their homes to see what I might learn. This would seem to be all of a parcel and certainly designed to do harm.”

  “Of that I have no doubt, and do not require a constable to point it out.”

  The constable gave a snort. “I doubt that not at all, Your Grace. Let me ask you, however, is there any chance that the governess is well enough for me to talk with her? I learned from one of the maids that she is awake, and has taken some food.”

  “She was quite ill. But I will look in on her later today and see if she is well enough to see you. She is still quite weak from fever and having been unable to keep any food down.”

  “It is not my desire to cause the lady any distress,” the constable soothed. “I merely wish to ask her a couple of questions.”

  “Do not get any notions of taking her from the warm chamber where she resides until she is quite well,” Sebastian said sharply.

  “No, no, Your Grace. I would not dream of it. Merely a couple of questions about the attack upon her, some clarifying points. I think I have most of the information I need. Does it not occur to you that whoever attacked her might very well be the same person who set the fire?”

  “I’m afraid I have not had leisure to think at all,” Sebastian said. “Nor have I had my morning tea. Perhaps you would care to join me?”

  “Thank you kindly, Your Grace, but I’ve had my morning cuppa long since. If it’s all the same to you, I’ll just go to the lower hall and see if I can catch a few more words with the groundskeeper.”

  “Carry on, Constable. I’ll check in on Miss Doyle and see if she feels up to speaking with you.”

  Freed from courtesy toward the constable, Sebastian hurried up the stairs to the schoolroom, where he hoped to be able to take tea with either Lillian or his brothers. Upon arrival, however, he was disappointed to learn that all three were sleeping soundly. “For the first time in days,” Martha Louisa told him. “And I would take it as a favor if you did not wake any of them. Mr. Gardener is resting in the boys’ outer chamber while Mr. Stableman is watching over them. I’ll send down for tea for both of you.”

  “Thank you, Martha Louisa. I would not disturb any of them for the world. Were you able to get some rest?”

  “Enough, Your Grace, and thank you for asking. How about yourself?”

  “I snatched a couple of hours. I would be grateful for a good, stout cup of tea, however. Then I’ll sit here in the schoolroom and go over accounts. The tallies of stores and what was taken should be coming in soon.”

  “Taken?” Martha Louisa looked surprised. “What do you mean, Your Grace?”

  “While the tenants were sheltering here in the castle, someone broke into several of the outlying houses and stole things. The extent of the theft is not yet known, but it is certain that it will leave those families short of supplies.”

  “Well, don’t that beat all! The fire was a distraction.”

  “I fear so. Had I not left guards on duty at the castle, we might be missing more. I wish now I had thought to send patrols to the farms outside the village.”

  “You’d ‘a’ spread ‘em too thin, Your Grace. Even I know that we don’t have the men to patrol the whole estate with the fire brigade off takin’ care of the needful. No, I think you did right. You kept the most folk safe, since ever’ one was pulled into the castle or the chapel. Who’s to say they would’ve stopped with just taking things if folks had been at home. Why, they could’ve all been murdered in their beds!”

  “Thank you, Martha Louisa. Although the thought of my folk murdered in their beds is scarcely comforting.”

  Martha Louisa gave a ladylike sniff. “I should hope not, Your Grace. And a mercy it was that you had thought to their safety, though I’ve no doubt that there are those this morning who won’t see it that way.”

  “That is very perspicacious of you, Martha Louisa. I have already been served notice in no uncertain terms as to my character.”

  “There’s always someone.”

  There came a tap at the schoolroom door. Martha Louisa went to open it, admitting one of the under-footmen with a large tray laden with a generous breakfast tea. Once it was laid out, Sebastian gratefully tucked into the generous servings of eggs, ham, and crusty bread, which he washed down with a large tankard of tea.

  “Odd flavor,” he commented after downing about a third of the cup.

  “Dr. Gavril prescribed it for everyone. He says it’s a sovereign tonic for anything that ails ye.”

  “What’s in it?” Sebastian asked, taking another cautious sip.

  “Nothin’ too alarmin’,” Martha Louisa reassured him. “A dab o’ regular tea, some mint to ease the flavor, sage, and mullein. It’s to stave off the winter terribles.”

  “Well, we could use a good bit of staving off. This winter has already been terrible enough.” Sebastian took a hearty swig of the odd tasting brew. Fortunately, the mint masked a good bit of the mullein and sage. It was easy to detect the flavors, once he knew the ingredients. Goodness knew, his old nurse had dosed him often enough with mullein.

  “Are we that low on tea?” he asked.

  “Low enough, Your Grace. The cook says he might be looking at bark teas before spring, if the orangeries don’t produce enough.”

  “Hmmm. Cold as it is we might be coming to that soon enough. I’ll speak to the brewer and see what he thinks of the idea of making some spruce beer.”

  With his breakfast out of the way, and all but the pot of tea removed, Sebastian settled in to go over the accounts. An astonishing number of things had gone missing, but no real valuables. A clay tea pot and matching mugs, the three wheels of cheese, two large hams, a precious wooden box filled with real India tea, some dried herbs, and three fresh hares that had been left hanging to chill in the winter air.

  It was almost as if someone was setting up housekeeping using the goods from the houses. Could there be gypsies in the area? When he found an entry for three hand-spun blankets, two comforters and six pillows, he was virtually certain of it. Perhaps it was time to check in with Ted Rowe and see what the houndmaster had discovered in the night.

  Sebastian corked his ink bottle, and went to look in on the invalids before he left the schoolroom.

  His brothers were awake and sharing a single bed. Although the light was kept dim, it was sufficient that they had their tin soldiers spread out on the checked coverlet and were playing some sort of complicated game. Clearly, they were on the road to recovery.

  Next he went across the hall and tapped on Miss Doyle’s door. Martha Louisa opened it. “She took a little tea and some more soup, Your Grace, but she’s gone back to sleep. The physician should be up directly, and he’ll be able to tell us more. Did you need something?”

  “Only checking in,” he said. I need to see her for myself and to know that she is all right. “I’ll come back after the physician has been. Perhaps she will be awake enough to speak with me then. The constable has been asking to speak with her, but I’ll not have her worried by him until she is feeling up to it.”

  With that, he went off downstairs to look for the hound master.

  Chapter 34

  Lillian lay still under the covers. She wanted to speak to Sebastian, but she didn’t want to talk to or even discuss the constable. Martha Louisa, bless the woman, had assumed that her closed eyes and even breath meant that she was asleep. Well, that was fine. She felt like sleeping.

&nbs
p; But as Lillian lay curled in the bed, her thoughts raced. She was still very weak, and resting seemed like a very good idea. But what if . . .

  “What if” never quite materialized in her mind. She drifted into real sleep again. When she awoke, she could smell roast beef and mashed turnips. Her stomach gurgled, and she turned over.

  “There you are,” Dr. Gavril said heartily. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better. Very tired.”

  “That is not to be wondered at. Your body has been working very hard. You can have the curtains back today as long as your head does not ache, and you may eat anything you like. Miss Martha Louisa has some good beef and turnip stew simmering on the hob for you, and some crusty bread. You may have all you like if you are hungry.”