So this was the His Grace’s friend. He was younger than what she’d pictured as a Sergeant Major. She relaxed when she realized he wasn’t here looking for her; now she must worry that he was here to replace her.
Was he to be the new butler? He most definitely looked like he could command a staff of servants. Shuddering inside, she thought about losing control of Brookshire. She loved bringing it to life again, loved managing all the little details. She needed to control the environment around her. It was the only way to remain safe.
Studying the man she saw a twinkle in his eye that spoke of a potential sense of humor. It appeared that he had to fight not to start laughing at the formality of everything.
“Of course, His Grace is expecting you, if you will please follow me,” she said then turned and led the Sergeant Major to the study.
Knocking lightly at the door, she waited for permission then gathered a quick breath before she stepped in and announced the guest. She was shocked at The Duke’s reaction. His face lit up into a huge smile as he jumped from his chair, limping across the room without his walking stick to shake the man’s hand.
“God it’s good to see you,” The Duke said as he continued to pump the visitors hand and slap him on the back. “You can’t believe how much this place resembles Portugal.”
The Sergeant Major winced and said, “Sir, Portugal wasn’t bad, it was just the first time you officers ever lived rough. For the rest of the boys, it was the normal Army Hell.” He smiled, returning the Duke’s back slaps.
Gwen was amazed as she watched the two interact. It was like two little boys finding each other at a new fort in the forest.
Remembering her, His Grace stepped back.
“Miss Harding, this reprobate is Sergeant Major Jack Bowen, the worst singer and second best shot in His Majesties Army. He is to be treated as Royalty and even more importantly, my friend.”
His Grace grabbed his hand and started pumping it again. “Sergeant Major, Please allow me the honor of introducing, Miss Gwen Harding, My housekeeper. She’s in charge of just about everything around here if you have any problems, please let her know and she’ll ensure it is taken care of. Basically, she has your old job.”
The Duke smiled and then walked to one of the stuffed chairs and indicated that the Sergeant Major should join him.
Gwen breathed a silent sigh of relief and watched the Sergeant Major’s eyes grow as big as dish platters when she was introduced as the Housekeeper then look at The Duke with those same questioning eyes. Shaking his head in confusion, he smiled and nodded a hello with a small bow.
Gwen quickly curtsied and informed him that his things would be taken up to his room and to ring when he was ready. Someone would show him the way. She turned to go, disappointed to have to leave. She would have loved to sit in the corner and watched these two catch up on old times.
It was amazing how gorgeous His Grace became when he smiled. The tension left his face, and he seemed at peace with the world. Gwen promised herself to try and make him smile more often.
.o0o.
Jack Bowen looked at his friend and then around the room and marveled where they were and how far they’d come.
“So Your Grace, Housekeeper?” He said with a knowing grin. Teasing his former commander had always been one of his favorite pastimes. It was good for the boy. He was surprised however when The Duke didn’t react with a smile, but a most serious expression.
“That is exactly what I said, and that is all that she is. Understand?” He said using his Major voice.
Sergeant Major Bowen was taken aback and worried that he might have overstepped his boundaries. Maybe things had changed more than he’d thought. It was not like the Major to easily take offense.
“I am sorry sir, of course,” Jack said, sitting a little straighter.
The men spent several minutes reliving old times and catching each other up on what had happened after the last battle. Jack relaxed, glad to see his commander doing so well.
“So Your Grace, how do you like being a ‘Your Grace’?”
The Duke’s smile fell away, and his shoulders hunched as if he’d taken on a heavy load.
“I thought running a battalion of you hellions was tough. Everyone and their brother needs something, immediately. A barn in Overset, a road needs to be fixed in High Wycombe. Tenants who want permission to pay their rents with three geese and a goat while others simply walk away. Taking jobs in the factories that seemed to be sprouting up everywhere. Walking away and leaving fallow fields unplanted. One of my agents up north wants to consolidate and run sheep. To hell with tenants. Another thinks it’s the dumbest idea ever, but he doesn’t have enough men to turn a profit. It’s a mess.”
Before the Sergeant Major could respond a soft knock interrupted them and Miss Harding entered with a silver tray laden with food.
“I assumed you would want to share lunch in here, Your Grace,” Gwen said.
Both men watched her set the tray between them. Jack noticed the smile on the Duke’s face and the way Miss Harding blushed whenever she came close to the Major.
Interesting, he thought. Especially when you thought about how The Duke reacted at the mere mention of something between them. A woman this beautiful was not normally a housekeeper. Even he knew that. And if she had the moxie to run this house it was even more surprising. Beauty and brains were always a deadly combination for the Major. Definitely, most interesting.
.o0o.
Thomas ran his hand through his hair. The past two weeks had been very productive for the Duke of Bathurst. The house was almost fully staffed once again, and Miss Harding had things well under control. They really should hire a butler, but he hadn’t been happy with any of the candidates sent by the agency.
The Sergeant Major was on the road and had already sent back a report on his property in the Lake District.
He was going to have to start visiting all of his extended properties. He would also have to take his seat in Parliament, along with the hundreds of other things that needed to be accomplished immediately.
He entered the dining room to break his fast. He’d changed his eating habits to meet what was expected. But still, he tried to keep things as informal as possible, especially first thing in the morning. He preferred a quiet meal, allowing him time to read the paper only a week out of London and reflect on the coming day.
What's more, it allowed his leg time to adjust to a new day. If he pushed it too fast, he’d pay for it later.
Walking to the sideboard, he lifted the lid for what was supposed to be a serving dish of bacon and sausage. The pan was empty. He lifted several more lids, they were all empty. Confused, he stepped outside the room. He asked one of the new footmen; - he didn’t even know his name - Jenkins possibly, to tell Miss Harding, that he would like to see her at her earliest convenience.
Returning to the head of the table, he settled down and opened last week’s London Newspaper. Within minutes, Miss Harding entered the dining room. As always her presence made his heart hitch for a second. She looked as wonderful as always.
He could tell immediately that her day was not going well. Her face was flush with exertion and forehead narrowed in concern. Coming to a stop with her hands behind her, she waited to see what the Duke wanted.
“Miss Harding, is our butcher bill behind again?” He asked.
Her brows furrowed even more in confusion. “No Your Grace, I don’t believe that it is.”
“Then can you please explain why I am without bacon for my breakfast?”
She glanced at the sideboard and saw all of the trays were empty. Her face blanched and then her shoulders slumped. “I am sorry Your Grace, I will take care of it immediately.”
He could see that she was bothered about something; it was more that the missing bacon, that was but a symptom of what the real problem was.
“Is everything all right in the kitchen?” He asked. “Is the new staff working out?”
The young woman
looked worried. She hesitated and dropped her head for a moment. Coming to a decision, she looked up.
“It’s Cook, Your Grace; she’s received troubling news and it’s made her a little forgetful.”
To forget my bacon, it must be more than merely troubling, he thought. He looked at her waiting for more information.
Seeing that he wasn’t going to let the matter rest, she continued.
“It’s her daughter Your Grace, she has recently obtained a position as a teacher at the school she attended. Her mother was so proud.”
The Duke sat back and folded his arms. A young girl he had never heard of in a distant location was the reason he had to go without bacon for breakfast. Will matters never stop being amazing he thought, waiting for more.
“It seems that she is being pursued rather vigorously by the headmaster, a pursuit that is not to her liking. And I believe that the pursuit has become physically intimidating,” Gwen said, looking at the Duke, trying to judge his reactions. “Cook has been rather absent-minded of late, worried about her daughter.”
He sat forward unfolding his arms as a scowl crossed his face.
“You mean a daughter of one of my most trusted employees is in difficulty, and I am just now learning about it?” He said, obviously very upset. “Where is this school?”
“It is located in a small village, Stokenchurch, near Wycombe, Your Grace,” Gwen answered.
Thomas looked off into the distance for a moment, then seemed to come back to the current reality. He was a man of the world and knew full well how a man in a position of power could manipulate and intimidate a young woman. He’d seen it quite often. Suddenly he looked up.
“How is it that a Cook can afford to send her daughter to school?” He asked.
“I don’t know, Your Grace. I never asked,” Miss Harding answered, folding her hands in front of her.
“Please ask Mrs. Morgan to step in when she has a moment,” he said, leaning back in his chair once again.
Miss Harding curtsied and gave him a curious look, obviously worried that he was going to admonish the cook, leaving her to deal with the fallout. He shook his head at the girl’s lack of trust in him.
His curiosity was getting the better of him. Who was this woman, his housekeeper, and what was she doing here in his house. Her capabilities at such a young age were truly remarkable. Her speech marked her as no farmer’s daughter. Such composure for someone so young was truly unusual and so unlike the typical young chits of the ton.
Maybe it was time to start pressing some limits. Time to shake things up.
She returned a few minutes later with the large cook in tow. Mrs. Morgan entered, sheepishly looking at the floor, her eyes swollen from recent crying and her face flushed. She quickly curtsied.
“I am sorry about breakfast Your Grace, I really can’t explain it, Your Grace.”
“That’s quite all right Mrs. Morgan. I asked you in to find out if there is anything I can do to help. Would your daughter wish to come here to Brookshire?” The Duke asked.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Miss Harding giving a sigh of relief. The girl must think him an ogre. The thought bothered him all out of proportion.
“Oh no Your Grace, I couldn’t have my Isabel working here at Brookshire sir, not in service. I had such higher hopes for her. She has been trained as a lady, sir. She wouldn’t be having any idea how to work, not really work sir,” she said with a knowing look shared between them.
“Um, well, obviously we must get her out of that wretched place. I wonder…” he paused, his mind evaluating and analyzing alternatives. “I wonder, would she be interested in being a ladies companion, at least for a short period, until something more to her liking might open up. Maybe we could find her a governess position eventually.”
“Yes Your Grace, I think she might like that.” Mrs. Morgan said with a confused look.
“Good then, it is settled. I will be retrieving my Sister fr…”
“Your Sister?” Miss Harding blurted out without thinking then immediately placed her hand over her mouth when she realized what she had done.
The Duke raised one eyebrow and looked at her silently for a second before returning to Mrs. Morgan.
“Yes my sister, Elizabeth, She is attending school near Swinton, she’s old enough not to need a governess, but I’m sure she’d like to have a companion here at Brookshire.”
He didn’t tell them that he barely knew his sister. She’d been eight when he left, and he had only seen her four times over the remaining years. He’d been putting off bringing her here to Brookshire until he had everything under control and running smoothly. In all honesty, he wondered if that would ever happen. Having a companion for her would go a long way to freeing him up from the obligation of keeping her entertained.
“Oh yes Your Grace, I think she’d like that just fine.” Mrs. Morgan said, her face cracking into a small smile for the first time in days.
“Good, then that is settled, Please prepare a letter of introduction. We will be leaving in the morning.”
“We….?” Miss Harding asked, nonplused.
“Yes, Miss, Harding, We! I cannot be expected to accompany a young Lady I don’t even know, all by myself halfway across England. Not without creating some scandal. Isn’t that right Mrs. Morgan?” he asked, looking at the cook for support.
“Yes Your Grace, And I have written to Isabel about Miss Harding here, she will not be surprised to see her.”
“That settles it,” he said with a final nod of his head. “And now to the matter of my breakfast, if you could Mrs. Morgan?” he asked.
“Of course, Your Grace, right away Your Grace,” she said as she scurried out the door.
.o0o.
Gwen didn’t even see her leave, her eyes locked on The Duke.
“Your Grace, I can’t travel with you to retrieve Isabel.”
“Why ever not?” He asked in all innocence.
“Your Grace,” she said in exasperation. “For the same reason that you can’t travel alone with Isabel.”
The thought of leaving the safety of Brookshire was frightening to her. The thought of being cooped up in a closed carriage with him was terrifying. Her heart started to race as she thought about it.
“Miss Harding, you are my employee, we are alone together every day,” he said. He looked at her with those deep silver eyes of his as if he had no idea what she was talking about.
“But Your Grace, people will talk, people will think that you and I are…” She couldn’t continue, her face flushed, and she could have kicked herself for letting it happen.
“But Miss Harding, You are on my staff, we are alone each day. I assure you no one would ever besmirch your good name. You must know that the rules are different for servants, even beautiful ones.” The Duke said, His eyes searched her face for understanding.
“Besides I need you, it is impossible to imagine traveling with a young school girl I have never met. What would we talk about?”
Why is he being so difficult she wondered? It wasn’t like him.
Had he learned something, did he know her secret? The thought of him knowing shook her to the core. She couldn’t live here if he knew.
Watching his eyes for any clue. He gave no indication of reproach or disappointment in her. Nothing that said he knew. But then why was he making her go through with this. His words sank in, did he really think she was beautiful she wondered, trying to suppress the warm glow that spread across her middle.
He looked at her with comforting eyes and said, “I do apologize for putting you in this situations, but I really must insist.”
Sighing, she nodded her head and bobbed a quick curtsy before leaving the room.
Chapter Five
Gwen’s shoulder ached with a cramped pressure as the carriage rocked back and forth. The Duke took up so much room in the seat across from her; his legs stretched out in front of him as he worked on correspondence on a small folding desk across his lap.
She shrugged as she tried to release the tension in her neck while trying to concentrate on the book in her lap.
All she could think about was the man and how he filled the small space. The disturbing dreams had bothered her again last night, dreams full of steamy bodies twisted together on a carpet before a roaring fire. His hands and lips touching her, driving her crazy. She felt herself growing hot and bothered thinking about it.
Trying to gain control again, she focused on her book but caught a brief glance her way, his eyes peeking out from a lowered brow. Within minutes, she gave up on the book and set it down next to her and looked out the window at the green fields.
After only a few moments, the silence became oppressive. The pressure continually building until Gwen was about to explode. Finally, she had to let something out.
“The Sergeant Major said that he thinks France will stay beaten this time, that they’ll accept their loss,” she blurted, mentally kicking herself for sounding so dumb and immature.
The Duke set aside his papers and looked at her with a serious frown.
“Yes, I believe they will. Napoleon is in St. Helens, in full exile. Their army is destroyed. Their economy is in shambles. I don’t see them coming back anytime soon.”
Gwen felt some of the tension ease; they hadn’t addressed the real question. But at least they’d let some of the air out of the tight carriage. It didn’t feel as constricting, and she was able to breathe again.
“Actually,” the Duke continued as if he was very interested in the subject. “I believe we are on the eve of great times for Britain. We’ve been at war with the French for Eight Hundred years, neither side ever winning a complete victory. I think Waterloo ended that. It’s opened up the entire world to us. Africa, India, Asia, the Americas, almost all of it, there is no one to get in our way. The recent discoveries in science, our full control of the seas, a young man could make his fortune,” he said, looking off into the distance almost wistfully.
Gwen realized that he regretted his situation. Someone had handed him a fortune and all of its responsibilities. He hadn’t had the opportunity to make it for himself.
The Reluctant Duke (Love's Pride Book 1) Page 4