That would certainly change with the visitor Rebecca had coming. The dowager duchess was going to make sure of that.
Her maid was in the bedroom sorting out her clothes when Rebecca entered, slamming the door behind her. Her loyal servant didn't even flinch.
"Is everything all right, ma'am?"
"Not really, Jill." Rebecca slumped into a chair by the unmade fire. "My son is being stubborn and refuses to marry my choice for him."
"But that's not right." Jill straightened out the dress Rebecca was planning to wear when she went out later that day. "He's the duke. He needs to marry so he can have heirs."
"Exactly."
Rebecca liked Jill. They thought in similar ways despite a huge gap in ages; Jill was nearer Dirk's age, but she understood Rebecca better than any of her previous maids. Despite her servant appearance and her plain looks, Jill was a smart woman who was on Rebecca's train of thought.
Rebecca sometimes wished she had had a daughter instead of two sons. She sighed in frustration.
"But he doesn't seem to realize that this is important. He's such a romantic." She put on a sneer. "'I want to marry for love, not duty. If I'm going to be married at least make her interesting. Money and title shouldn't come into it." She snorted rudely. "Pathetic."
Jill smiled.
"Well, isn't the lady you chose for him coming soon? Perhaps he'll like her once she gets here. Then he'll change his mind."
"I'd like to think so." Rebecca agreed. "Dirk is always swayed by a pretty face, and this girl is very pretty."
The slight problem was that the lady in question was also obsessed with Dirk, which might prove difficult if Dirk turned her away. It hadn't been difficult to persuade her to a match and to have her father sign her away.
Rebecca was confident that this woman could work wonders on her younger son. He had previously avoided her as much as he could during London season, but not this time. They were a perfect match, and she would complement him when they were together. She gave Jill a wink.
"You mark my words, Jill; she'll have Dirk wrapped round her little finger within a few hours. I know it."
Chapter 3
The First Glance
"O h, come along, dear. We're going to be late."
Maggie felt the tug on her arm and realized that she had slowed down while Mrs. Trainor had walked on, only to be pulled back by their linked arms. She hurried to catch up, blushing to the roots of her hair.
"Sorry, Mrs. Trainor." She muttered, looking down at the ground.
"What's wrong with you today, Maggie? You've been all on edge since you arrived. Whatever's the matter?"
"Nothing."
Maggie didn't want to talk about the problems she was mulling over. They were nobody else's business but hers. But she knew that Mrs. Trainor would keep nagging her until she spilled forth, something that Mrs. Trainor thrived on. The old lady liked to keep up on the gossip and poke her nose into everyone's business. Maggie did her best not to give her employer anything to work with, but someone else would always tell her.
It would be better she heard it from Maggie herself than from anyone else. Maggie took a deep breath as she braced herself.
"Papa's had a fight with Dawn. I don't know exactly what it was about, but now she's refusing to come and look after them while I'm with you."
"Oh, love." Mrs. Trainor patted her hand sympathetically. "That must be hard."
Maggie knew the lady was enjoying this. She loved drama. The books she collected in abundance didn't compare to real life, according to Mrs. Trainor. Maggie preferred quiet and simple, especially after all the drama her family had gone through when Dawn was blossoming into a young woman. The things she had done had ruined Maggie's chances of having a reasonably good match.
Maggie loved her sister but resented her for making things hard once she grew up.
"She won't see reason," She said bitterly as they walked through the blossoming trees. "And John's standing by her. Mrs. Lucas from across the road has said she'll come in and check on them, but she can't be with them all day, not with her own family to look after. And I don't like to put her out."
Maggie hated relying on anyone else. Her parents had raised her to look after herself and others. There wasn't time to have anyone look after her. Maggie preferred to do things on her own with minimal help. Everyone in the village knew if Maggie was asking for help then it was a last resort.
The villagers had been supportive towards her, but that would only last so long, and Maggie didn't want to abuse it.
They came out the other side of the trees to see the church looming up on the slight hill, set on the outskirts of the village. People were milling about, standing in groups talking before they made their way inside ready for the Sunday morning service. Mrs. Trainor nodded at a few people, who returned the nods, and squeezed Maggie's arm with a comforting smile.
"Don't worry about it too much, Maggie, dear. They'll be fine. You told me yesterday your mother's getting stronger by the day. And your father sounds like he's getting some energy back. I have a feeling they'll be feeling good as new in no time."
Maggie hoped that was the case. They had been ill for so long Maggie couldn't remember the last time she saw her parents well and healthy. Hopefully, they would go back to their former selves; their current ones were starting to worry her.
They entered the church, and Mrs. Trainor slid into a pew halfway down near the wall. Maggie sat beside her closest to the wall and kept her head down. She always felt a deep sense of respect whenever she entered the church. Joseph Reynolds was a God-fearing man and had raised her to be the same. Maggie also felt a sense of peace during the vicar's sermons; it settled her after a trying week.
The calming atmosphere always helped whenever she needed it, and the vicar was always accommodating for her.
Mrs. Trainor straightened up beside her.
"Oh, I see the new duke has finally decided to make an appearance."
Maggie looked up.
"Who?"
"Dirk Stowers. His father died last year, and poor Dirk kind of had the dukedom thrust upon him, what with his brother dying suddenly and all. I was under the impression he didn't like church."
Maggie looked towards the front of the church and saw a tall, dark-haired young man in profile, talking to the vicar. She couldn't completely see his face but what she could see of him was pleasing. Very pleasing. The duke was certainly a handsome man. And his smile...Maggie swallowed as her heart fluttered. It was enough to fell angels.
"That's Dirk?" She croaked.
"You recognize him?"
Mrs. Trainor sounded surprised. Maggie couldn't blame her. A woman of her position wasn't supposed to know the resident peer informally. And she wished she didn't.
"Dawn used to go around with him." She said bitterly. "That was ten years ago. But his mother caught wind of it and forbid them to see each other. That didn't work so she sent Dirk off to boarding school."
Mrs. Trainor nodded, her usual interested expression taking it all in.
"Well, he's turned into a fine young man, don't you think?"
Maggie shrugged and dragged her eyes away from Dirk as he looked over at them, staring at her hands twisting in her lap.
"I suppose." She muttered.
Dawn had been infatuated with Dirk. He had been polite towards Maggie and didn't treat her the way her sister did. Still, Maggie knew he would be trouble for the family.
And she had been right.
***
Dirk didn't like going to church. He found the sermons condescending at best. They always seemed to be telling him off for something that he hadn't even done. He had stopped coming to church a long time ago.
But after his argument with his mother about a marriage that he didn't even want, Dirk had been trying to find ways of staying out of the house as much as he could without neglecting his duties. That included riding miles on Black-Briar, going for walks in the surrounding countryside and making his way d
own to the village. He hadn't made an appearance at all since before he was sent off to boarding school at fifteen for having a dalliance with a local girl. After he had left, he stayed in London. Now, though, he had a dukedom, and he needed to be at the family home on a regular basis.
The villagers were nice people. Dirk enjoyed talking to them and feeling like a normal person for once in his life. And the attention he was getting from the young girls who were still unattached was flattering. But Dirk couldn't find them attractive. They were pretty, he couldn't deny that, but there was nothing there. It was clear one of them was hoping for a little something from him, that they were dreaming about becoming his duchess.
Dirk, however, couldn't see any of them in that light at all. He just wasn't interested in any woman lately, especially not at his mother's insistence that he marry. She would have a fit if he brought one of the local girls home. Before Dirk wouldn't have cared but now, it didn't appeal.
He could feel eyes looking at his back as he sat in the front pew listening to the rector. He ignored them as best he could. He hadn't encouraged any of them, and he wasn't going to now by acknowledging that he had seen them.
Except, perhaps, for one woman. She sat halfway up the church beside a white-haired old lady Dirk recognized from his youth. He had only caught a glimpse of her face before she ducked her head and refused to look up again. He had seen a flash of pale brown eyes, a smattering of freckles on her cheeks nose and dark red hair tucked into her bonnet.
She was lovely. It was just a pity she didn't seem to want his attention.
As soon as the service was over, Dirk stood up, intent on seeking the woman out and talking to her. But everyone seemed to flock around, desperate to talk to him. Dirk wanted to be rude, but he gritted his teeth and spoke to everyone as quickly as he could, slowly making his way through the throng. Then he spied the white-haired lady by the church doors and approached her.
"Mrs. Trainor?"
Duckie Trainor turned. Her barely-wrinkled face broke into a pleased beam as she curtsied before she held out her hands to him.
"Dirk, dear. So nice to see you again." Dirk took her hands and kissed each of her cheeks, Duckie doing the same. She stepped back and looked him over in approval. "My, you're a handsome one now, aren't you?"
"Oh, come now, Mrs. Trainor. You say that to me all the time."
"And it's truer every time I see you."
Dirk grinned. Duckie had been his governess when he had been a boy. That had stopped abruptly when Dirk had been shipped away to boarding school, and Duckie's services were no longer needed. Dirk always remembered his governess with fond memories. She was a big gossip, but she had been a good teacher.
There had been some good times with her.
"Flatterer." Dirk looked past her, seeing a group of people out in the sunshine. "Forgive me for being so rude, Duckie, but you were sitting with a young woman during the service. I was wondering who she is."
"Caught your eye, did she?" Duckie asked, still grinning. Her eyes glinted, and Dirk knew she was up to something.
"Duckie."
"Sorry. That was my companion, Maggie Reynolds. Well, it's actually Meghan, but you know how children are for changing their names."
"Meghan?" Dirk stared at her, with a look of disbelief. "That's Meghan Reynolds? Dawn's sister? The last time I saw her, she was twelve with pigtails and blushed every time I spoke to her."
"She's twenty-two now and still blushes when a man speaks to her." Duckie winked. "She's very pretty, too, just like her mother."
Dirk couldn't argue with that. What little he had seen he knew that Maggie Reynolds was a lovely looking young woman. But he wasn't going to say it out loud; someone might overhear and Duckie would get an idea she shouldn't.
"Where is she? I don't see her."
Duckie frowned.
"I don't know. Shortly before the service ended she muttered something about needing some air and hurried outside."
"Do you want me to find her?"
"No, don't bother. I'll manage."
Dirk was sure she could. Duckie was a very capable woman, even at her age. He held out an arm, aware that young women were glaring daggers at him for ignoring them.
"Would you like me to escort you out, Mrs. Trainor?"
Duckie laughed and dropped into a curtsy.
"Thank you, kind sir."
She took his arm, and they stepped out into the sun. It was very warm for the middle of April, and the trees were out in bloom. Dirk liked this time of year; warm but not overly so and the rainy periods left behind a scent in the air that was refreshing.
"How's your mother, Dirk?" Duckie asked. "I hear she's thinking of getting you a bride."
Dirk made a face.
"I hope not. I'm not interested in getting married just yet."
"You know the dowager. She'll want everything right this minute." Duckie gave him a warning look. "Don't put it past her to do something devious."
"When has she not done something devious?" Dirk snorted. "And I know she's up to something from the way she's been acting the last couple of days, but I don't know what."
Duckie clucked her tongue and patted his arm.
"Don't let her get to you. You're the duke now. What you say goes."
"Would you like to try telling her that?"
Then Dirk saw her. Maggie. She was under a nearby tree, leaning against the trunk as she fanned her face. She looked flushed, and her freckles seemed to stand out. Dirk had not found freckles attractive before but he found them endearing on Maggie. He stopped and couldn't help from staring.
The young girl he had once known, albeit briefly, had blossomed into a stunning woman. If only she would stay where she was. But Dirk had a feeling she would bolt the minute he approached her and he didn't want to look a fool. So he stayed put while Duckie stepped away, her arm falling from his. She turned to him.
"Dirk?"
Dirk swallowed.
"I'll leave you to it, Mrs. Trainor." He took her hand and bowed over it, giving her a grin. "I have to get back home before Mother starts having another tantrum."
"Bye, Dirk." Duckie's eyes twinkled. "It was good to see you again. Don't be a stranger."
Dirk had no intention of being a stranger. Not if Maggie Reynolds was going to be about.
Chapter 4
Getting Acquainted
"A re you well, Your Grace?"
Dirk jumped, his elbow slipping on the desktop. He caught himself before his chin hit the blotter and sat up slowly. The butler stood by the side of the desk, giving him a concerned look. Dirk sighed and sat back, rubbing his hands over his face.
"Not really, Slater. I'm not ill. Just completely bored."
"Why don't you write some correspondence, your Grace?"
Dirk snorted.
"Slater, that will always be classed as boring." He waved a hand at the pile of letters waiting to be taken to the post office on the end of his desk. "Besides, I've finished them."
"All of them?"
The older man's surprise was evident.
"Yes." Dirk gave the pile a glare. "Mother made sure everyone who had ever met me, whether it was a passing nod or a lengthy conversation, write to me. It seems they all took her up on it. She told me it would be rude not to write back to them."
"That was...kind of her."
Dirk chuckled.
"You're such a good liar; do you know that, Slater?"
"I know."
The butler smiled. Dirk had known Slater since he was a baby and Slater had been in service as a footman. He had taken over the butler duties shortly before Dirk had left for school. They had always got along well, as had Dirk's father and brother. But his mother didn't like Slater and tried whatever she could to get him dismissed.
But Dirk's father had put his foot down about it, saying that the house ran smoothly with Slater around, and he was not to go anywhere. Dirk had stipulated the same thing, much to his mother's chagrin. He didn't know what he would d
o without Slater to keep him in check.
Dirk sighed and waved a hand at another pile of papers on the desk.
"I've finished all the work she's thrown my way. And I did the accounts last night. I don't have any pressing engagements that I know of today." He shook his head. "I have too much time and nothing to do with it."
"What about riding?" Slater suggested. "You always like to ride."
"Black-Briar is being re-shoed in the village. I'm supposed to get him back later today."
"Then how about walking down to the village and seeing how it's getting on? If Mr. Wright has finished, then you can ride Black-Briar home."
Dirk liked the sound of that. It was a very pleasant day for a walk. He could follow the river down and enter the village that way. It wasn't the usual way for him to go into the village but Duckie had told him when he had visited her the day before that Maggie lived in that direction if he wanted to go and see her.
And Dirk did want to go and see her. He hadn't seen her since Sunday five days before, and he was desperate to see her again. Even if Maggie refused to see him at least, he knew he had tried.
They had barely spoken, and Dirk couldn't stop thinking about her.
"I might just do that." He stood and reached for his cane. "Tell Mother you can't find me if she asks where I am."
"I'll do my best, Your Grace."
"You'll be able to do it easily," Dirk grinned. "Like we both know, you're such a good liar."
***
Maggie flinched as she caught her hand again on another thorn. Sucking her hand, feeling the coppery taste of her blood in her mouth, she glared at the bane of her life. If it was a person it would be smirking at her, gloating that she couldn't tackle it.
But Maggie couldn't let her father attack the bush. It had already gouged at his arm, which had caused more fuss than Maggie anticipated. She didn't want him hurt again, so it was up to her.
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