Her brow furrowed. “Do you have a lot of experience with the women of the ton?” she asked.
The smile dropped from his face as he suddenly frowned. “Some,” he said.
“A servant,” she said with a squeal. “A butler maybe. Or a footman at least. That is it, isn’t it? I discovered the truth.” She smiled at him as a sense of rightness filled her. It explained so much. The formal language, the wide knowledge. The straight back and the way he saw everything of interest. As if always ready to fix something before it could go wrong. Like catching young women falling from trees.
He continued to frown then shook his head. “We aren’t talking about me, remember.”
She laughed. She was right, she just knew it. And yet for some reason, he was spending his time wandering around remote England. Occasionally digging ditches in apple orchards. Had he been left a small inheritance from his former employer. Was that how he could afford to visit Lord Brookenham’s orchard on a Wednesday? Or was he here, waiting for the new Earl to arrive and hoping to gain employment at the main house?
A sudden hope filled her. The thought that this man might become a part of the community. Might actually stay around long enough for her to learn everything about him filled her with joy.
“So, then,” he continued, obviously not wanting to talk about himself, “you are not of the aristocracy. Yet, you are obviously educated. I assume you can read.”
“Of course, I can read,” she said as she stopped and put her hands on her hips. Offended at the idea.
He laughed, “You would be surprised how many people can’t. No, you can read. What is more. I believe you have read extensively. Am I right?”
“Perhaps,” she said with a sadness as she remembered her father’s library and the deep sorrow when the debt collectors had taken it all away.
“Therefore, a merchant’s daughter,” he continued. “The oldest of the Stafford Sisters.”
Ann turned as she walked backwards so she could see him. “How did you know I was the oldest?”
He smiled. “Your comment about the importance of family. A younger sister would not have viewed it so intensely. No, an older sister, responsible for her younger siblings. A family who has fallen on hard times.”
Her stomach tightened up, the man was observant.
“Why a merchant’s daughter? Why hard times?”
Daniel thought for a moment. “That is easy. Why else would you be climbing an apple tree? As for the merchant daughter aspect. Several reasons. The education obviously. But also, the way you hold your head when you walk. Proud without being overbearing. The way you move, I do believe you have had dance lessons if I am not mistaken.”
Her cheeks blushed, the man knew too much. It was as if he had opened her very soul.
“And then,” he continued, “there is the whole marriage issue.”
Ann froze as her insides quivered. “What?” she asked.
He smiled down at her, “A woman your age, beautiful, intelligent. Normally you would have married a year or two ago. I know for a fact that the men in this area are not stupid. So, they are intimidated. Am I right?”
She frowned as she nodded slowly. Then the realization that he thought she was beautiful settled into her. A feeling of happiness and contentment filled her.
“Yes,” she said with a heavy sigh. “You are correct. My father was a Merchant, in …”
“Let me guess,” he interrupted. “The mid-lands. Perhaps even Birmingham?”
She smiled and nodded. “Yes, Birmingham. When Papa died, we were able to come live with our Aunt Ester.” Who happens to be a distant relative on her mother’s side of Lord Brookenham.”
He nodded solemnly as he folded his hands behind his back and continued to walk with her.
Who was he? She wondered once again and why did she feel such a desperate need to find the answer to all of her questions.
Chapter Five
Daniel Marlow, the Fifth Duke of Norwich, was pleased to learn that he had been right about the woman. A self-satisfaction settled over him. He enjoyed being right.
“Tell me, Miss Stafford,” he said, “exactly how far away is this Witch Hazel? Much further and I believe we will be in Cornwall.”
She laughed. He liked making her laugh. The world seemed correct and balanced when she laughed.
“Around the next bend in the trail,” she said as she blushed prettily. God, the woman was adorable, especially when she blushed. It was a conundrum. Which did he enjoy more? Making her laugh, or making her blush.
The forest had grown darker as the tall trees blocked out the morning sun. A deep, leafy smell surrounded them. A quiet peacefulness filled the air. Or was it this woman? he wondered. Did her mere presence make him enjoy the world more than normal?
“So,” he began, “you and your sisters live with your aunt? What of this new Earl? What do you know about him?”
Her face grew white as she slowly shook her head. “We know next to nothing.” The fear behind her eyes told him all he needed to know. She and her sister’s very well-being would rest with the new landlord. Would he allow them to remain? And if so, would it continue to be rent-free?
Oh, how he wished he could reassure her. The new Lord Brookenham would never turn out such a family. That realization made him wonder how many other situations like this were occurring on the Earl’s estates. Was this why the lands weren’t producing? Because the old Earl had been too kind-hearted?
“How did you know about the new Earl?” she asked with a curious frown.
“The Inn,” he said. “The locals are talking of little else. It seems everyone is concerned.”
She nodded, obviously satisfied with his answer. “Yes, change is always frightening.”
Daniel tried to smile reassuringly as he said, “I am sure everything will be fine.”
“How? Why?” the young woman said with a deep frown. “I mean, how can you be sure? What makes you think that?”
He swallowed hard. All he had hoped to do was make her feel less afraid. Yet she instantly challenged him. All he could do was shrug his shoulders and say, “I just assumed. I mean, after all. Not all Lords are angry misers. Especially with family.”
Ann grimaced as she shook her head. “We are not really related to the new Earl. My aunt was related by marriage to the old Earl’s first wife. No such connection rests with the new Earl.”
The sadness and fear in her eyes pulled at him. What could he say to make her pain go away? An overwhelming sense of protectiveness flowed into him.
“Besides,” she continued, “it is my experience that things rarely work out.”
Once again, he was struck at the differences in their worlds. This was a young woman who had lived a hard life. Losing her parents, losing her home, losing the very foundation of her world. Yet she faced it with courage and determination. It was rather admirable. So many would have complained, or latched on to someone else to carry the load.
“You are right,” he said with a dip of his head. “I can’t assure you that everything will be fine. If I could, I would, I promise you.”
She smiled up at him and shrugged her shoulders. “We will meet the challenge when it arises. We can do no less.”
God, what a woman, he thought.
“Here it is,” she said as she rushed to a small bush a few feet from a cedar tree. Smiling back at him, she removed her small knife and used it to cut thin branches and place them in her basket. So, this is where they got Witch Hazel from. He had never really known. It was used in the boxing community to treat small cuts and bruises. Old Stevenson swore by it.
But all he had ever known was that it came in a small brown bottle. Who would ever have known that it started life as a shrub?
“So, you are staying at the Inn?” she said as she continued to fill her basket.
“Yes, for the foreseeable future, at least.”
A small smile slowly turned into a frown. “And then?”
He shrugged his shoulders
as he gave her a knowing look, “We shall see. Perhaps I might find a reason to remain in the area.”
She looked up at him and caught his eyes. Once again, her cheeks grew pink. Good. She understood why he had used those exact words.
“The main house is fully staffed,” she said as she gathered the last of the branches. “And even if there were openings, I believe they would prefer to hire from the local community.”
The obvious sadness in her voice touched him. She really did believe he was a servant. A footman perhaps. The thought almost made him laugh but he was able to keep from exposing his secret. Instead, he shrugged and said, “I will find something, or perhaps I might return to London and take the special part of Wycombe with me.”
Her eyes grew very big as she faltered for a moment, then quickly looked away as she gathered up her basket and began back down the trail.
“It must be nice to be so footloose and fancy-free?” she said. “No responsibilities. No concerns for the long term.”
He nodded slightly. What must it be like for this woman? he wondered. Every day, she must worry about ensuring her family was taken care of. The constant dread of losing everything hung over her. Threatening to crush her and all those she loved.
“Tell me,” she said as she twirled to face him, “is London as wonderful as they say? The parties, the museums. I have even heard that the streets are lit at night. Is that true?”
Daniel smiled. Oh, how he would like to show her London.
No, he thought to himself. He could not go there. This woman was not to be treated in such a way. She would never be a man’s mistress.
He must be careful, he realized with surprise. He cared for this woman more than he should. The thought of hurting her seemed wrong somehow. No, he must not trifle with her affections.
“Yes,” he said, with a thoughtful tone. “London can be quite wonderful.”
She frowned at him, obviously worried at his new, somber tone. It was as if he had drawn a curtain between them. An awkwardness set in as they continued down the path.
As they approached the last bend before her home, she slowed, then stopped as she turned to look up at him.
“It was most enjoyable, Mr. Marlow,” she said with a hint of pink to her cheeks.
“I am not allowed to walk you to your gate?” he asked, suddenly concerned that he had offended her somehow. Strange, he thought. He had never really concerned himself with a woman’s worries. Normally, they were so set on capturing his attention, they hid any fears or doubts.
She smiled up at him and slowly shook her head, “It is best if you do not. My aunt, my sisters, … It would be hard to explain. Walking with a man.”
He laughed, “I understand.” Deep inside he realized how many women of the ton would love to be found alone with him. Their fathers would have him in front of the Vicar before the day was out. But not this woman. She didn’t see him as a prize to be won.
Was this how normal people acted? Free to be themselves? Free of unwritten rules for every aspect of their lives?
The two of them stood there for a long moment, looking into each other’s eyes. A longing began to build up inside of him. Without thinking, he put his hand to her waist so that he could gently pull her to him.
Her eyes grew big but she did not flinch, did not pull away. That was all he needed as he leaned down and took her lips with his.
Softly, she returned his kiss. Gentle, hesitant, as if she had never been kissed before. The thought sent a surge of pride and power through him. Yes, this woman was innocent, pure, and she had given her first kiss to him.
As their lips explored, her hands reached up around his neck to hold him in place. His arms wrapped themselves around her as he became lost in her scent of rosebud and lavender. A scent he knew he would never forget.
His heart began to race as a burning need filled him.
No, he realized. No, this woman deserved more, he reminded himself. There could be no future between them. Not that did not destroy her happiness.
Pulling back, he looked down into her eyes. “You, Miss Stafford …”
“Ann,” she said with a secret smile. “After a kiss like that, it seems strange to be so formal.”
He frowned sharply as he took a deep breath. “Ann…”
Her brow furrowed with concern. She could tell that something was bothering him.
“Ann … I do not control my future. I … I can make no promises. It is only fair that you understand that.”
She continued to frown as she tried to understand, then an awareness filled her eyes and he felt as if a knife had been thrust through his heart. The look of disappointment and pain would haunt him for a very long time.
Then, she surprised him by smiling back at him, but still, the pain lay there behind her eyes.
“Daniel,” she said with a tilt to her head. “None of us know what lays in our future. It was just a simple kiss after all.”
He sighed and dropped his head. She was trying to put a brave face on it, but the disappointment was still there.
“Oh, sweet Ann, that was so much more than a simple kiss. If … If things were different. That was the kind of kiss that could change a man’s view of the world.”
She smiled slightly as she grabbed her basket up and turned towards her home. He stood there, watching her hips sway as she prepared to disappear from his life. All the while, he knew that he would always regret letting her walk away.
Just as she was about to disappear out of sight, she turned back to him.
“I will be gathering more apples tomorrow,” she said with a bit of saucy smile that made his insides harden with need. He had not scared her away.
She nodded one last time and disappeared around the bed.
Yes, the world was a good place, he realized.
.o0o.
Later that night, as he waited by the stone bridge, he thought back to his time with sweet Ann. How could a man not fall under her spell? Innocent, beautiful, kind, with the face of an angel and the temperament to match.
“What are you smiling about,” Brookenham said as he stepped out of the shadows.
The Duke of Norwich shrugged his shoulders as he quickly brought himself back under control.
“Life away from London,” he said with a disdainful shrug.
The good Earl nodded. “Was that you I saw in the orchard this morning, with a shovel no less?”
Norwich sighed slightly. “It seems people find a man without purpose strange and unusual. And subject to gossip.”
Brookenham frowned. “Who hired you?”
Norwich laughed. “No one, I just borrowed a shovel and decided to dig a ditch. It is amazing how people will leave him alone if they see a man gainfully employed.”
Brookenham laughed and shook his head. “So, what have you learned? Am I being robbed blind?”
Norwich slowly shook his head. “No, at least not that I have seen so far.”
Lord Brookenham sighed audibly.
“That does not mean that changes are not needed,” Norwich said. His mind immediately jumped to Ann and her sisters. No way would he ever allow Brookenham to turn them out.
“Such as?” the Earl asked as he turned to lean on the bridge rail and stare down at the stream below.
Norwich sighed, “Crop rotation …”
“My agent says that the idea is stupid, that leaving fields fallow is lost money.”
“Your agent is wrong, and it might go a long way to explain the low yields your barrister mentioned.”
Brookenham frowned for a second. “What else?”
“New breeding stock. There is a farmer, a Thomas Jones, one of your tenants, you should talk to. He has some interesting ideas.”
The Earl stood up and studied his friend. “You really have learned a lot.”
Norwich shrugged his shoulders. “Who knew that farmers gossiped as much as the old biddies of the ton. I assure you. A few more days and I will know the history of every sow and heifer wit
hin a dozen miles.”
Brookenham laughed. “I do appreciate it. If you wish, we could dispense with this subterfuge. I really know enough.”
“No,” Norwich answered quickly, perhaps too quickly. “No, not yet.”
His friend raised an eyebrow as he studied him for a long second. “You are enjoying this. Aren’t you?”
Norwich shrugged. What could he say without giving his true feelings away? Yes, he was enjoying himself. And to be honest, it was because of one young woman and her sparkling eyes.
“Well,” the Earl said. “Do finish up soon. My mother is insisting that I host a gathering. Up at the main house. You know, the prominent locals, the Vicar, the local authorities. I thought you might wish to attend. Both Everton and Worchester have agreed to come with their wives. It is going to be a glorious weekend before I return to town.”
Norwich cringed inside. The idea of such a gathering bothered him on several different levels. The thought of the locals learning of his true identities seemed wrong. They would feel betrayed. While he had been careful to never actively interrogate anyone under false pretense. He had simply sat in the inn and listened to the conversations around him. He had spent the rest of his time walking over the estate’s lands and observing.
Still, it seemed wrong to spring his identity on them in such a way.
In addition, the thought of spending time with Everton and Worchester sent a cold chill down his spine. If his Lady Everton was there, then her mother would be in attendance. Even worse, her sister, Clarice would attend.
Again, he shuddered. A shark on the prowl would be the best way to describe Lady Clarice.
Unexpectedly, he couldn’t help but compare Lady Clarice with Miss Ann. Without a doubt, the country girl was superior in all ways.
What would Ann think if she learned the truth about him?
She would hate him, he realized with a shudder. She would feel as if he had used her. Trifled with her. They were of two different worlds and he deceived her. Pure and simple. The thought settled at the bottom of his stomach with a sick, hopeless feeling.
Duke In Disguise (The Stafford Sisters Book 1) Page 4