A sadness filled him along with a new determination. Yes, that was the plan. Make sure the title was secure, the estates in good working order, and prepare his cousin for the title. Knowing that a plan was in place allowed him some peace. Yet still, he could not sleep. Visions of a young woman in a cotton night rail refused to let him rest.
Chapter Thirteen
The tangy aroma of London hit Emily long before the city came into view. That sharp combination of coal smoke, tidal flats, and too many people crammed into a small area would always be associated with the city.
The drive from King’s Dale had been long and rather boring, even with the Major sharing the very same coach.
The carriage rocked, pulling her out of her thoughts as she looked across at Lady Denton and the Duke sitting next to each other. Both lost in their own thoughts. Lizzy was next to her, riding with their backs to the horses. Jones was up top with the coachman.
The core, the five of them, she thought to herself. Everyone else came and went. But these people were the center of her world. A family in function if not in name.
Glancing at the Duke from under her eyebrows she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about their kiss. A flicker of hope tickled her stomach. The heat between them had been so intense that it was impossible to ignore.
Yet, that was exactly what the man had done for the last two weeks. Pretending that it had never happened. Her stomach roiled with embarrassment and fear at the thought of him despising her for throwing herself at him.
But he had acted as if there was no change at all. As if there hadn’t been a burning passion between them. He talked to her as if they had never not been locked in a lover's embrace. How could he do that? Act as if it hadn’t been the most important thing to ever happen in the world.
Thank God, there had been no more night terrors. Or at least, if there had been, he had not called out. Not loud enough to wake her.
But deep in her soul, a regret-filled her. Oh, how she wished that he wanted her. Anything for him to admit that she existed and that she was needed.
That thought led her to think of her need for him. Even now, two weeks on, her cheeks grew warm with the memory. The way her body had hummed with excitement and desire. Even now, she still felt a pull. Oh, how she would give anything to be in his arms again.
But no, it was not to be, obviously. The man had decided that it had been an error. A midnight mistake to be forgotten.
A sadness filled her, forcing her to push it aside and try to focus on her future. We are almost home, she thought, the long ride would end soon.
London. Would life change now that the Major was a Duke? During these last two weeks, he had been so wrapped up in duties associated with the title. Had that been why he had ignored her? A secret hope filled her. Perhaps things would be different in London.
She had been worried that he would overtask himself. Push himself so hard that the malaria returned or that the night terrors would reoccur. He had been so immersed in meetings with agents, tenants, other lords, it seemed that he spent all day in his study either seeing people or going over endless ledgers.
Surely such frantic activity could not be good for him.
The worry lines on his forehead had grown deeper and Jones had quietly informed her that he hadn’t been exercising his arm as he should. Instead. She could only hope things would be easier here in London.
Although, at least King’s Dale was quiet, socially. But once the mourning period ended, would social obligations pull at his time and attention? Oh, how he will hate that aspect of his new responsibilities, she thought. The Major had never struck her as a sociable man. He was too taciturn and refused to suffer fools easily.
“So,” Lady Denton said to the Duke, interrupting the silence. “Will you be taking your seat in Parliament? I always thought John was remiss in that aspect of his duties.”
The Duke sighed, “I meet with Liverpool tomorrow.”
Emily stopped herself from shaking her head with amazement. He spoke of meeting the Prime Minister as if he were going to talk to the local butcher about a late delivery.
“The man is competent at least,” Lady Denton said as if it pained her to admit someone could be good at their job.
The Duke laughed, “I imagine he wishes to know my politics. The last thing he needs is a rogue Lord causing problems in the House.”
“What are your politics, Your Grace?” Emily asked before she could stop herself.
“Emily!” Lady Denton gasped at her familiarity.
“I apologize, Your Grace,” Emily said as her cheeks grew warm with embarrassment. “It is just that I wouldn’t want to say the wrong thing in front of the wrong person.” In truth, she would do anything to know more about him. The unending curiosity burned a hole in her soul. Anything would be better than nothing.
Lady Denton rolled her eyes, “Emily, young women should not be talking politics. It is most unbecoming.”
Emily swallowed hard as she stared down at her hands. How could she go through the London social scene and not know His Grace’s opinion on certain matters? What if she were pulled into a conversation and publicly agreed with his opponent’s point of view. It would make it appear as if his own ward disagreed with him and provide ammunition to his enemies. The thought of embarrassing the Duke sent a shiver down her spine.
“No,” The Duke said as he smiled gently at her. “Miss Winslow is correct. It is best that both of you know where I stand on most matters. Our lives have changed.”
He paused for a moment as he stared off into the far distance. Emily held her breath as she waited to hear his opinion. What if she disagreed with him? What if he held a point of view that she found abhorrent?
No, that was impossible. Please, she silently begged.
“I suppose at its core, I support the concept of the monarchy. Even if our current lot are addle-brained prats,” he joked. “As a Duke, it would be rather churlish of me not to support them. Besides, after what has happened in France, it showed us what can occur without a strong monarch.”
Emily sighed internally. She could agree with him there. The horrors of France could not be allowed to come to the shores of England. “Of course, some would say that the French terrors were a result of too strict a monarch.”
The Duke nodded as his forehead scrunched up while he looked across at her with a strange expression. Finally, he shook his head and continued, “I do admire what the colonies are trying. I don’t know if they will be able to make it work, this republican democracy. It is an experiment I believe the rest of the world will watch with great interest.”
Again, she sighed internally. America was so interesting. If they were successful it would change the world.
“And the Corn laws, Your Grace?” she asked, glancing at Lady Denton to make sure her employer wasn’t too upset at her.
He smiled slightly, then said, “It is complicated. Too much reform too fast might lead to famine …”
“And lower rents,” Emily added. She strongly believed that fact was behind the delays in reforms.
He nodded. “Yes, but there is concern about becoming too dependent upon foreign supplies for our grains. But the prices are kept artificially high and the people will balk if it continues too long.”
Again, she was able to relax. Yes, he saw things as she did. He was not one of those close-minded men who refused to see that change was needed. But he had obviously examined the issues and understood the ramifications. The realization made her feel good inside. As she had always suspected the Major -The Duke – had much more depth than he displayed to the world.
Now for the big question. “What of slavery, Your Grace?”
He shuddered. “An abhorrent institution that should be ended immediately. Thankfully, my father divested from the West Indy trade years ago.
Emily’s shoulders slumped with relief. She didn’t know what she would have done if he had felt otherwise. It wasn’t as if she could simply walk away.
&nb
sp; “And your politics, Miss Winslow?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
Her heart lurched. He was asking for her opinion. No one in her entire life had ever cared what she thought about these matters. When she looked into his eyes, she realized that he really was curious.
“I stand with Wilberforce and Fox, of course. Slavery must be ended if we are to call ourselves a Christian nation. We must set the example for the rest of the world to follow.”
He nodded, silently encouraging her to continue.
She took a deep breath, surprised at how empowering it felt to be discussing these things as if her opinion mattered. “As for the Corn laws. I will remind you that the revolution in France was started because of bread riots. I believe the same could happen here if we are not careful.”
Again, he nodded. “And the Monarchy?” he asked as he tilted his head and studied her for a moment.
She smiled, that one was easy. “Britain without a monarch would no longer be Britain. And with men such as yourself in the House of Lords, I am positive … excesses and abuse can be greatly reduced. That is one of the beauties of our system after all. Even the King is not all powerful.”
“Not as long as parliament controls the purse strings,” The Duke said with a smile. He paused for a moment as his brow furrowed then he relaxed and smiled. “I must say, Miss Winslow, I am impressed.”
Lady Denton scoffed next to him. “You shouldn’t be, the girl reads three newspapers every day. Made me have them delivered in the post. She knows the positioning of every Lord of any importance and half of the commons. Along with their wives of course.”
Emily blushed. She didn’t know for sure if Lady Denton meant it as a compliment or a concern.
The older woman frowned. “Although, I had always believed that she was following the social scandals. Learning who was doing what too whom. Not the politics. I might have canceled the subscriptions had I known.”
“But My Lady,” Emily said as she desperately tried to defend herself. The thought of Lady Denton being disappointed in her sent a bolt of shame through her. “It is amazing how often the scandals are associated with the politics of the people involved. A scandal breaks, a Lord leaves town in disgrace, the vote tally changes. Or a wife brings discredit to her husband and his words in parliament are no longer taken seriously.”
The Duke laughed. “I see that I will have to discuss matters with you on a regular bases, Miss Winslow. Most enlightening.”
Emily’s heart soared with happiness at the thought of the Duke talking to her about politics and the issues he would face in Parliament. Of course, it was not what she truly wanted from this man. But it would have to be enough.
“What about me?” Lady Denton asked. “Don’t you wish to know my opinion on politics.”
The Duke laughed. “Aunt Martha, I am perfectly aware that you believe Atilla the Hun was too soft on his people. You have absolutely no idea how much a loaf of bread costs. And our cook would faint if you ever asked. Oh, and of course, you believe most of the world’s ills could be solved if an Englishman were put in charge.”
The older woman waved her hand in dismissal. “I don’t know this Atilla man, but as for having an Englishman in charge. Can you think of anyone better? Especially if he has a wife to tell him what to do.”
The Duke laughed then glanced at Emily and gave her a quick wink. As if letting her into a shared secret world. Her heart ached as she realized this would be her future. Friend. Nothing more. Never anything more.
Chapter Fourteen
The Duke of Richmond stood before the door at 10 Downing street and paused. Perhaps he should have brought Miss Winslow along with him. He had been gone from England for too long. She would know where the power lay. Who to approach. The hidden traps.
What would the Prime Minister have thought if he had brought along the young Miss Winslow? he wondered with a laugh. The man would have been impressed if he had any brains.
Miss Winslow, the Duke thought with a deep sigh. A problem that refused to go away. Ever since their midnight kiss, he had been unable to put her out of his mind. The feel of her body next to his. The soft lavender scent, the taste of her lips.
Memories that would never be lost.
A deep shame filled him at the thought of what he had done to her. She was his ward. Young, innocent. He should have known better than to allow the kiss to happen. But … It was as if he lost all sense of propriety around her. It had taken every ounce of self-control to pull away from her that night and even more discipline not to repeat the error over the last two weeks.
No, he must move past Miss Winslow. Besides, he had important matters to deal with, and the Prime Minister might be an excellent ally.
As he stepped up to the door it opened unexpectedly. Lord Hawley was exiting as The Duke was trying to enter. Lord Hawley stood there with a surprised expression that quickly changed over to an angry scowl before he could pull himself back to his typical bland, vacant look.
“Richmond,” the man said with a small tip of his hat.
The Duke bit back a disparaging retort, instead simply saying, “Hawley,” as he shifted to move past the man. Everything about his enemy set his nerves on edge. His arrogant attitude was especially disturbing knowing how incompetent and cowardly the man was in reality.
As he weaved past the man, the Viscount reached out to grab his arm and stop him. “You will pass along my greetings to your Miss Winslow, won’t you. And that I look forward to a dance once she returns to the social scene.”
The Duke bit back an angry reply. This man wasn’t allowed within fifty yards of Emily. Instead, he looked down at the man then at the hand holding him back.
“Perhaps,” Lord Hawley continued, “I may be coming to you to discuss a connection between our houses.”
The Duke barked out a quick laugh and shook his head. “Hawley, Miss Winslow is too intelligent to ever find you acceptable. And if by some miracle you were able to mislead her into such a situation. I would quickly inform her of the truth.”
He stared into the man’s eyes, making sure he understood exactly which truths he was talking about. “And if that isn’t enough,” he continued, “I will have to inform the rest of the ton of your history. You, Sir, are not fit to breath the same air as Miss Winslow.
The angry scowl returned to the Viscount’s face as he sputtered, obviously unused to being treated so harshly. If he had remained with the regiment, he might have developed a harder hide, the Duke thought with a shake of his head.
“I say Richmond …” Hawley began.
The Duke pulled his arm from the man’s grip and entered the building before the Viscount could finish. He refused to waste any more time on the man. There were bigger issues to deal with.
The Prime Minister’s secretary hurried to admit him to the inner offices. Lord Liverpool rose from behind his desk with a large smile and an outstretched hand. “Richmond, welcome, thank you …”
“Prime Minister,” the Duke said then looked down at his hand stuck firmly in his jacket pocket, subtly reminding the man of his injuries.
Lord Liverpool laughed at his error then waived to one of the chairs across from his desk.
“My condolences,” the Prime Minister said as he sat down. “I was sorry to hear about your brother.”
The Duke laughed. “No you weren’t. The man hadn’t spent two days in parliament his entire life. It was only because he disagreed with you on so many issues that you and Prinny allowed his continued absence.”
The sooner the man learned that the new Duke could not be so easily dismissed, the better for everyone.
The Prime Minister frowned then pursed his lips and slowly shrugged, “At heart, I always believed your brother was more suited to the role of a country squire and not that of a noble Duke.”
Duncan laughed, the man was not far wrong.
“Yes. Well, I have always preferred the city to country living.”
Again, the Prime Minister studied him. Th
e Duke could see the mind working, examining strategies, evaluating possibilities.
“I should assure you,” The Duke said. “I plan to support your policies wherever I can.”
The Prime Minister sighed slightly then frowned. “But?”
The Duke laughed, “But, I should also inform you that I intend to dig into the issues surrounding the supply of our troops and the abysmal performance of your government in this matter.”
“Strange,” the Prime Minister said, “You are the second man today to raise this subject with me.”
The Duke frowned.
“Lord Hawley was in earlier, only he looks at the matter differently. Complaining about silly witch hunts interfering with the war effort.”
A sick feeling filled the Duke. “Hawley? What does he have to do with the supply system?”
“Nothing,” the Prime Minister said. “Just a concerned Lord who believes these inquiries by you and your friends are interfering with the smooth function of government. From what I can gather, your friends Bedford, Oxford, and Suffolk have half the bureaucracy scrambling to answer questions.
“As well they should.
Liverpool shrugged again. “As I told them. If they are able to find the source of the problem then I will gladly … make the necessary adjustments in my government.”
The Duke wondered if the man was so amenable because he was not involved in the graft himself. No, it was impossible, the Prime Minister could not be profiting from this. Surely, he must believe that because he was innocent, he need not fear any repercussions on himself.
“In that case,” The Duke said as he rose from the chair. “I will let you return to work. I simply wished for you to know my intentions. And when I find the bastard responsible, you won’t have to deal with him. There won’t be enough left to put on trial.”
The Prime Minister laughed. “Careful Your Grace, you don’t want to make enemies of powerful men.”
The Duke laughed, “Sir, I have been fighting the French for eight years. I know how to deal with my enemies.”
A Duke's Decision (The Duke''s Club Book 4) Page 9