Only In Her Dreams

Home > Other > Only In Her Dreams > Page 8
Only In Her Dreams Page 8

by Veronica Towers


  Everyone looked at him in askance.

  “Oh, I knew it!” Beatrice wailed. “Papa is going to send me home. The queen is having a drawing room in a few weeks and I have been practicing with those tedious hoops.”

  He looked at her craftily, “I can be persuaded…”

  Both Matthew and Marcus looked at him disbelievingly. Sarah just shook her head.

  “What do you want?” she looked at him suspiciously.

  “My sister, after much persuasion, will be coming to town,” he said with a grin.

  Marcus looked stonefaced, everyone knew what was coming next. The man was going to ask Marcus to show her around, Sarah thought.

  “My mother is not much for town, and my aunt who is staying with us is quite elderly, she needs some female friends to show her around. She is quite shy and retiring.”

  “Of course, I will befriend her, you did not need to blackmail me!” Beatrice exclaimed exasperated.

  “I know that but this way was more fun,” he smiled. He turned serious, “We have a situation here. Do you know anybody discreet to handle this death and investigate?”

  Beatrice, Marcus and Matthew looked at one another, “Marcus you’ll need to call them.”

  “Call who?” Sarah asked.

  “We need to call Bow Street,” Marcus said grimly.

  Chapter 9

  Sarah looked panicked, “I can’t stay, if someone from the mission becomes involved in a suspicious death, the small sources we have for funding would dry up.”

  Beatrice looked chagrined, “I am so sorry, Miss Montague, the story will get out.” She turned to her brother, “I can not do anything now since I am not supposed to be here, but could you not escort me down here to see Marcus’ fiancée, tomorrow perhaps?”

  “I’m not his—“ Sarah began.

  “Capital idea, Beatrice,” Marcus cut Sarah off. “You could perhaps bring my aunt with you as well. I am sure she would love to see what the mission needs and then speak with her friends.”

  “Your Grace, we are not going to be-“ Sarah was again cut off this time by Marcus giving her a hearty kiss.

  “Marcus Derning, what has come over you,” Beatrice remonstrated with him. “Have a little respect for your intended. Especially around a beast like Chudleigh…he might think that if a Duke could do something like that…” her voice trailed off as she saw the two boys coming back with their canine companion and a beefy gentleman dressed in an suit with a red vest.

  “Your Grace, these young scamps say h’as ‘ow they be connected to you,” the man said gesturing to the boys.

  Beatrice hung back as Marcus turned his attention to the newcomer, “Mr. Wolcott, just the gentleman we wished to see. We have a situation here. I was escorting my betrothed,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “to her home with her charges when a pair of footpads attempted to accost us. My dog took exception and this gentleman tripped over a crate and broke his neck. The other one managed to escape.”

  “That’s wha’ these ‘ere boys ‘ad to say, ‘ceptin’ the part where one o’ them footpads got ‘imself kilt,” Mr. Wolcott looked approvingly at the boys. “It seem they lost the other one back in some alleyway and were jist getting’ yer dog back under control when I finds ‘em.”

  Marcus turned to Chudleigh and Sarah, “Mr. Wolcott is a runner for Bow Street, he helped us out with a spot of bother we had a few weeks ago.”

  Chudleigh cast an amused glance over to where Beatrice was skulking behind Matthew, “We have met before.” Chudleigh finished pulling stray flowers off his person, “I have a dinner engagement this evening and I must change. Your Grace, Miss Montague, Mr. Wolcott, it has been an experience. Come along now, gents, we have had enough excitement for today.” He put his arms around Beatrice and Matthew in a gesture of Bonhomie and started back up the street.

  Mr. Wolcott turned and watched them walk off, “Your Grace, ya could tell Miss Warrick she needs ta tuck ‘er ‘air a might better if she wants ta dress like a gentry cove.”

  “You don’t miss anything do you, Mr. Wolcott,” Sarah said with a laugh.

  “It be the nature of me job,” the runner replied walking over towards the body with his hands behind his back. “Does ya wants to share wi’ me the par-ticulars o’ this death here. I already knows the fella to be a villain.”

  Marcus replied, “I know you are a discreet man, Wolcott I need to take Miss Montague home. Could you perhaps attend me at my uncle’s residence say… four tomorrow?”

  “Aye tha’ be soon enough, I s’pose,

  Chapter 10

  The small party was greeted with enthusiasm at the mission when they arrived. All the children spilled out of the house to see the dog. Amelia came out of the house a little more sedately carrying a toddler. Sarah looked over at her cousin. Amelia seems in her element with all of the children, Sarah thought.

  Amelia turned a worried glance to Sarah reaching out to brush a stray brown curl off of Sarah’s forehead, “Are you all right, dear? When I read in the note about the accident I was so worried.”

  Sarah smiled, she had almost forgotten about the bump to her head, “I am fine, but I do need to get started making dinner. It will be just like campaigning again…I will have to scavenge the bins for potatoes and the small garden for herbs.”

  “Well, we may have not put things away in the same organized manner that you do but I would not quite call it scavenging,” Amelia’s worried frown turned into a smile. She looked down at the toddler who was patting her face and kissed the little fingers.

  “Put what away?” Sarah asked puzzled.

  “It must have been a very good day at the market, because we barely had enough space for all of those root vegetables and potatoes. It was so nice that his grace was kind enough to have your purchases delivered,” Amelia smiled at Marcus.

  Sarah turned suspiciously to Marcus, who shrugged, “It was little enough to do when you dropped your purchases saving Peter and I from those ale barrels.”

  “Anyway, it bothered Ambrose, you foraging in the market every day,” Amelia said firmly. “I want you to tell me precisely how you make that potato pudding. You are going to sit and relax. Did you walk all the way from Curzon Street?”

  Sarah hated to admit it but her head did ache slightly and the burst of energy she felt when those foot pads tried to kill them had drained away the last of her strength. She did not even feel like arguing with Marcus about the vegetables.

  Amelia continued to speak, “Oh, Your Grace, I know you probably have some friend’s house to go to dinner but you are welcome to share what we are having for our evening meal.”

  Marcus smiled, “I was hoping you would invite me to dinner, Sarah’s potato pudding was famous all over the 73rd.”

  “We are having roast mutton, as well.”

  Sarah lifted her head and looked at her cousin, “I did not buy any—“

  “I did, Sarah,” Marcus said sagaciously. “We need to tell your cousins our news.”

  “Botheration, Your Grace,” she snorted. “We are not going to—“

  He cut her off and finished her sentence for her in his favor, “-wait very long to be wed.”

  “What’s this I hear,” Ambrose walked into the parlor. “The two of you are planning a wedding?”

  Sarah looked over at Marcus sure that he would cut her off should she try and deny it again. The sides to Marcus mouth twitched before he responded to Ambrose, “Yes, we are planning to be married very soon. We would like it if you would officiate at our wedding.”

  Ambrose looked doubtful, “Now that you are a Duke, I do not think that a minister in Whitechapel would do for you.”

  Amelia and Sarah looked at him in surprise. “I did not think you would know that Captain Derning had inherited a Dukedom,” Amelia said.

  “I do read the paper,” Ambrose said dryly. “Just because I am a minister and a trifle occupied with matters of faith does not mean that I am totally unaware of what is going on in the world. When I saw t
he obituary for the Duke of Allendale and saw that the family name was Derning…I pulled my copy of Debrett’s out. Sure enough, Sarah’s friend was listed as the next in line for the Dukedom. I did not think you would be able to come back and see us as you had promised with all of your new duties.”

  Marcus raised his eyebrows and looked thoughtful digesting this bit of information, and then he said, “Since my uncle and Sarah’s father just died I did not think a large ostentatious ceremony at St. George’s would be appropriate. A small ceremony here at the mission with just our immediate families would be more in keeping with the solemnity of our circumstances.”

  “If we married, we should wait at least three months from your uncle’s death,” Sarah said, she thought that if Marcus had a chance to think a little he would see the error in wedding her.

  “If?” Amelia questioned bewildered. “I thought it was all settled?”

  Marcus smiled benignly at Amelia, “Sarah still doesn’t quite believe that I want to marry her.” His eyes narrowed a bit as he took Sarah’s hand and drew her up from the sofa. “Is there anyplace private I can speak to my intended?” he said with a firm emphasis on the last word.

  “I have a small area with a couple of rose bushes just outside the tradesman’s entrance,” Amelia said deprecatingly. “It should be private, but mind the neighbors have a good view even if they can not hear what you say.”

  Marcus was bound and determined to do anything to get Sarah’s consent. He knew that his honor compelled him to better Sarah’s circumstance. Her father lost his life saving him and Sarah had again saved him today. He knew she had feelings for him as a man which was more than he could say for any other single lady of his acquaintance. Marcus strode out to the small garden area with Sarah stumbling behind him.

  “Your Grace,” she said as soon as the door closed behind them. “It just will not do…you will get over the feeling that you owe me something. I am amenable to being your betrothed in name only for the time being. This will let you set up your household and possibly find someone more suited to your elevated position.”

  Marcus looked amused and then his expression hardened, “We will be married in a week’s time. If you persist in this nonsense I am going to tell your cousin that we slept together on the boat…”

  Sarah was outraged, “You would not dare-“

  “…And we represented ourselves as husband and wife on the road to London,” he said implacably. “It would only be a matter of time before it became common knowledge.”

  “But we did nothing!” Sarah wailed. “I think you have too much honor to do such a thing.”

  “I would not be telling a falsehood, you well know that it is the appearance of impropriety that counts not the actual facts of the matter,” he replied referring to the incident with Lieutenant Wilbur. “I know that the donations for the missions are starting to come. If our misadventures become common knowledge the money will stop…how will that help here? As the Duchess of Allendale you could sponsor the mission give money, hire tutors, and pay for outings. You would have a generous allowance and a free hand to spend it.”

  Sarah sniffed, and said tearfully, “What will you accrue from this marriage?”

  “I will have you,” Marcus turned Sarah and took her into his arms and kissed her.

  Chapter 11

  Sarah felt her heart leave her body. It was like descending a mountain by rope: both exhilarating and frightening. When Marcus put her from him, she had to shake her head to organize her muddled thinking. “I still don’t think you know me well enough. If we marry it would be almost impossible for you to rid yourself of me.”

  “Sarah, I have known you for three, almost four years,” he said huskily as he was not unaffected by their embrace. “You are generous towards others and miserly about spending money on your own comforts.”

  Sarah equivocated, “I really am frightened of childbirth. I have seen so many mothers and babes perish during and after confinement. You would need an heir; the two babies that died of fever were girls. I only had one brother and he died of fever as well.”

  “Sarah, if there are no male heirs apparent we will just break the entail and my girls would inherit,” he said firmly. “Tomorrow I am going to send you a small token of my esteem—“

  “You do not have to do that,” Sarah said wiping her eyes with her palms.

  Marcus took her hands from her eyes, took a clean kerchief and gently wiped her eyes. “Yes, I do. Let us go into the house I am fairly certain that your expertise is needed to bake the potato pudding.”

  Sarah laughed, “This is going to be very hard to do. I usually use whatever is at hand to season the pudding. I hope the flavor is not harmed by a surfeit of ingredients.”

  The next morning when everyone was busy attending to morning chores prior to breakfast there came a knock at the tradesman’s entrance. It was almost missed as they were not affluent enough to have deliveries on a daily basis. William opened the door to see a gentleman wearing the distinctive livery of a servant of the nobility. The gentleman had an air of superiority only obtained by years of training in the servant class. William gawked at the man in surprise. The man lifted a supercilious eyebrow at him and said dryly, “Would you be so kind as to tell me if this, indeed, is the residence of one Miss Sarah Montague, future Duchess of Allendale?”

  William was a bit flustered never having met such a superior looking man, “Ahhh, yessir, I mean yes Your Lordship.”

  The man looked down his long nose at the lad a hint of amusement creeping into his chilly grey eyes, “I am not a lord, I am Jennings, the Butler to his grace. I was instructed to supervise the delivery of a gift from his grace to his fiancée. Since it was of paramount importance to his grace that Miss Montague receives this gift early I decided to deliver it myself.”

  As William stepped back from the door to allow the man entry, young Rose was passing the door with freshly ironed sheets, she nearly dropped her load as she hurried up the steps to get Amelia. William winced as her loudly whispered, “M’Amelia, cor’ there be a bleedin’ swell at the tradesmen’s door!”

  Amelia hurried to the door and was stunned to see the man in his elegant blue and silver livery. “Madame, are you housekeeper in this establishment?” he enquired delicately.

  Amelia flushed and wiped her hands on her apron, “In a manner of speaking, I am Miss Appleby: housekeeper, governess and sister to the vicar, Ambrose Appleby. How might I help you sir?”

  “I bring a gift selected personally by his grace from the establishment of Fortnum and Mason,” he intoned gravely. “I would like to hand it to Miss Montague personally.”

  Amelia turned to William, “William, please go and find Miss Sarah and tell her to attend us in the back parlor.” She turned back to the Butler and shrugged her shoulders, “I am sorry, sir, but it has been so long since we had anything resembling a butler, not since we lived with my older brother, I don’t quite know what to do with you. Why don’t you come back with me to the back parlor and we will await my cousin there?”

  She walked back to the shabby morning room and motioned for him to sit while she sat herself. Soon she heard the sounds of her cousin accompanied by almost all of the children clumping down the stairs. She smiled, flustered, at the man and wrung her hands obviously at a loss as to what to do with such a noble servant.

  “Alright, alright I am moving just as fast as I can! Whoever it is will not disappear if I take care not to trip on the rug,” Sarah’s exasperated voice was heard.

  As soon as Sarah entered into the room followed closely by a gaggle of children, the Butler stood and faced her. Amelia clapped her hands, “Children, children, we do not want his grace’s butler to think that we are vulgarly curious, we will find out what his grace sent in due time.”

  Her face turned red when in the midst of the children a loud whisper was heard, “But we are curious, not sure about the vulgar part though.”

  Sarah stood stock still looking at the man in his e
laborate livery. She said under her breath, “Blucher’s staff never had that much braid.” In her normal tone of voice, “Do you wear that to polish the silver?” The children all looked at the man with expressions of interest in his answer.

  The man’s lips twitched into a semblance of a smile, “No, miss, I only wear this when I am about his grace’s business, I polish the silver in shirt sleeves and apron just like everyone else.”

  Jennings had not accepted the invitation to sit that had been extended to him. When he saw Sarah he bowed with a flourish and waited until she was seated to present her with the package.

  Sarah looked at the package, the logo of Fortnum and Mason, a purveyor of gourmet foodstuff, was written discreetly on the package. Jennings reached into his pocket and presented her with a silver and gold letter opener with an ornate design in the handle. She looked in askance at the expensive trifle.

  “I took the liberty of bringing one of the Duke’s letter openers with me,” he said impassively.

  Sarah stared at the design, his words reverberating in her head, one of the Duke’s, one of the Duke’s. She knew for certain she would have to find a way to break the engagement. Marcus really would not tell Ambrose that they had shared a bed, would he?

  She did not know what Marcus could have bought for her at such an establishment. She hoped they would take it back when the engagement ended and Marcus could get his money back. She gingerly slipped the opener underneath the flap and carefully cut the wrapping paper. She opened the box and stared unbelieving at the contents for a second. Sarah then lowered her head to sniff the heady fragrance.

  “Wha’ is it?” said Rose trying to crane her small neck to see into the package.

  Sarah lifted her head as a tear rolled down her cheek. One of the boys said, “Miss Sarah, I’ll give the man a taste o’ me fives, Duke or no…”

  Sarah looked at the children they all looked like they wanted to riot. Her cousin Amelia looked a little distraught and said, “None of that children, I will have Ambrose ban the man from the house.”

 

‹ Prev