The task had seemed easy enough at first, but after a few inquiries, he soon discovered that anyone who did happen to have a pair of mules and a wagon on its last leg or in need of some repair was generally going through hard times and didn't want to part with their only and last means of transportation. He'd had to pay a dear sum to the ornery man who'd finally been persuaded to part with the mules. Of course, the Duke had not raised an eyebrow to the sum and had given Charles the exact amount without question, hopeful that his butler could obtain the desired object and beasts. It occurred to the butler, perhaps William was losing his mind or under a great strain. He peered at William from over his spectacles from time to time as he prepared the scones, making no haste at all lest he overlook something important in his Master's behavior.
“Have you delivered my strict instructions to the list of employed staff I gave you that I am absolutely not to be disturbed unless it is of dire consequence during the next six weeks or more, until I send word?”
“Done, Your Grace,” said Charles as he made the last swipe of the back of the spoon across the second scone and bowed his head a little at the neck after he made his reply. “Letters were dispatched a few days ago. He then arranged the scones together on a plate to his satisfaction and handed the plate to his Master, daring not to raise an eyebrow.
“The manager and staff at Hanwell Farm have been released to go on a paid holiday until notified to return?”
“Done,” Charles nodded.
“Charles,” began Hartford with a pause to emphasize the importance of what he was about to say. “It is imperative only you and the lad --who will act as messenger and later perhaps function as a servant on my journey if he turns out to be helpful – are to know of my exact whereabouts during this time. Swear to me you will do all within your power to not betray my location nor any of my activities to anyone and do all you are able to keep this matter discreet... and yes, I will pay the lad well for his cooperation and silence, promising him a purse at the beginning and the end of this matter-- if the outcome is to my satisfaction.”
“I promise,” Charles stated in his own firm but weathered voice and bowed again.
“And you are quite certain the boy can be trusted?” inquired William, taking a large bite of a scone and then placing the plate on the table beside the bed.
“To my knowledge, Benjamin Trimmel is trustworthy and reliable. He works hard to help his mother,” Charles replied. “She is practically penniless and has no connections.” Charles said this with no great elaboration as William drank some of the tea and placed the cup next to the plate on the same small table near his mother's likeness. He found no further need to question the butler concerning the boy. The situation was complicated enough and perhaps the fewer details he had for now, the better.
“Has the list of provisions I gave you been delivered to the cottage at the Hanwell farm?” he inquired, placing his hands behind his back in a gentlemanly clasp and pacing between the bed with the blue striped coverlet and the window with the blue curtain panels, wearing out the carpet before the white washed fireplace and brick hearth.
Charles replied, “Yes, Your Grace.”
“You have located some shabbier attire and a worn coat, hat and boots in my size-- and an older style travel bag is packed for my journey?”
“The coat may be slightly too large, Sir, but 'tis shabby indeed, as you requested. One of the pockets is in need of repair,” Charles pointed to the garments laid out over the trunk beside the elaborately carved dark wood armoire under the window on the far side of the bedroom. The Duke hadn't noticed them before but nodded approvingly as his gaze traveled to where Charles directed.
The butler continued, “I took the liberty of adding a few stains to make the travel bag appear very well used and worn. You will find it is slightly frayed at one of the bottom corners but it should hold for the duration of your journey. The hat is one I borrowed from the gardener. He won't miss it. It's rather like a farmer's hat I thought. The work gloves are mismatched on purpose Sir. I did not polish the boots either and they may not hold up very long.”
“Excellent!” William continued to pace and did not move toward the opposite side of the room to inspect the clothing. He had far more important details on his mind. He stopped pacing and stared out the window with his hands clasped behind his back, looking out at the gaslights that lit up the street corners.
Charles waited quietly and patiently as (The) Lord Duke seemed to be going over details in his mind and had to stifle a small laugh that wanted to escape his throat. He'd not seen William this pleased over a new coat arriving from the tailor’s shop as he seemed over these shabby, old garments. He would not think of leaving the room until dismissed and furthermore, he was most intrigued. He thought this new adventure of William's was the most fun he'd had in years and indeed, the young and handsome Duke did seem quite cognizant and in control-- though slightly apprehensive.
If apprehension was his employer's sole oddity of character, the butler kept telling himself that despite the odd requests; apparently the Duke was very much at work on a very important plan of some sort. He was definitely up to something but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was exactly. Wondering what it was had been keeping him awake nights. He was most intrigued.
“I will require one of our mediocre mares to be saddled with our oldest saddle, and no embellishments, to be made ready for tomorrow morning. Perhaps the brown mare Belle, or the dapple gray, Old Lightening?” suggested William. “I will have letters to be hand delivered very early in the morning by the lad, Benjamin, and only he. He is to be shabbily dressed and not to reveal my true identity to anyone he encounters but only to deliver the letters with all due haste. You may permit him to use one of the horses to ensure speed, but do not lend too fast a horse, nor one too fashionable.”
“I will see to it,” replied Charles without hesitation but ever curious.
Without turning from the window, William watched intently as a gentleman he knew to be a Marquess appeared to be escorting a lady to her door on the other side of a courtyard beyond his own front steps. He then gave his final command as he stared out at the blanket of night that had settled on the picturesque homes at Grosvenor Square below his window. “That is all then.”
“Good night, Your Grace, Sir,” Charles said.
He barely heard the butler close the door after he bid him good night over the faint sound of clopping horse hooves on a cobble-stoned rue somewhere in the distance under the cloak of darkness. The heat of the day had dissipated and only a warm and gentle night breeze continued to stir as it wanted to, drifting the fragrance of rhododendrons, lilies, sweet pea and gardenia into his window.
He seemed to stare out that window for what seemed like forever to him but in fact was only a few minutes of silent night, disturbed only by the sound of two lovers talking quietly and a few neighbors who drifted in and out of the square with the same mystery of the fragrance of the flowers that delighted his senses. Sometimes the flickering of a gaslight caught his eye but he seemed to feel a longing in his heart for the companionship of a love in his life, much like the pair walking arm in arm beyond his window. He didn't know who they were exactly, only that they belonged and that their presence seemed as timeless as any other pleasant summer night.
Chapter 3. Two Prospective Brides
The Duke finally felt the townhouse settle into a quiet sleep as he sank into his reading chair by the fireplace, once again ready to read the letters that had flowed in response to his discreet and anonymous advertisement for a wife.
To order a wife by mail seemed strange to him indeed; so strange he could only open the letters in the confidential cloak of night, undisturbed by even the servants. He imagined the matronly cook had gone to sleep in her bed tucked round a corner not too far from the kitchen fireplace. During cold, wintery evenings she was sure to be warm and able to tend to any soups or stews. Charles had retired to his own quiet room across from the kitchen at
the end of the main hall under the staircase where he could hear and answer the door to any disturbances in the middle of the night, where he'd always slept for as long as William could remember. A scullery maid and a parlor maid shared a narrow room on the third floor and had long ago retired to bed, their duties, errands and chores completed for the day. Several stable hands and the lad bunked in a rather cozy room off the stable situated behind the townhouse.
William's personal valet, Edward Brighton, had been excused to visit family. The three other servants who had accompanied him by coach now slept soundly under the supervision of Jack Medley in the stable loft on the Hanwell farm. They were to journey back to Ivy Clifton from the cottage located on the front edge of the small farm in Oxford-shire. The farm nestled to a very scenic Cotswold village, south of Gloucester-shire. They had been instructed to deliver the provisions the Duke required, and if the employees at the farm had not received the letters Charles had sent, they were to present a personal letter of explanation from the Duke with his seal and thereby grant a paid vacation. Aunt Regina, he surmised, wouldn't miss having these footmen or his personal driver as servants on hand for some time to come. She was usually over staffed at Ivy Clifton Hall. Rather, he guessed she (and Uncle James) would find some bit of relief and comfort to know these servants accompanied her at- the- moment, very stray nephew.
Her headstrong nephew spent the next hour hungrily devouring the words of the letters in his hands. What was it his advertisement had said? He squinted as he tried to recall the exact wording. It had been short and straight away to the point. Something akin to: Humble farmer seeking a good and dependable, devoted wife. Reply to: ... and the address of a house on Peach Street. The house on Peach Street he had discreetly rented for three purposes. One, he could receive replies there without anyone else gaining knowledge of the matter. Secondly, he could interview any prospective brides there, without interruption. Thirdly, as the house was a simple one story cottage, he could judge the reaction of a future bride to a meager and humble situation. Once identified, he could admit to having rented the place for conducting his business, while not betraying the character of a farmer, a part he was about to play in a great charade to test his future wife's character, motive and devotion. He could only hope she would in the end, forgive his deception and be overcome with joy at the prospect of being a Duchess.
His new wife, if any was found, might react negatively once he revealed the truth to her. He decided it was a chance he would have to take. In all of London and even in his own country circles he had yet to locate a female who did not seem to either lack in virtues he required or abound in motive, rather too eager to marry a future Duke. This alternative was his last hope of finding a Duchess.
So, it had come to this. He had taken to riding past the house on Peach Street at his leisure, usually in lieu of his morning ride, to check for mail every few days. Imagine his surprise when after a week and a half of no letters at all, he found five waiting for him all in the space of one day. He sighed, accepted his plan once again and began to read the first letter, carefully opening the envelope lest he somehow damage the contents. By the time he had read all five letters he knew which two women he wished to actually interview face to face. For the moment, he had disregarded three of the five based on certain facts contained in the letters.
One letter was from a lady who admitted her age. At forty and three years old, she was clearly old enough to be his mother. He set her letter aside. The next letter frightened him by the spelling and grammatical errors. She appeared to have very little education which from the onset would make them incompatible. He had been educated by a number of private tutors and had attended a university. He did not look down upon her lack of education but knew it would be an ill-suited match from the start.
Another of the letters contained a detailed account of the death of the writer's former husband, a situation which had left her in a dire predicament. She was now widowed, penniless and the desperate mother of five children; clearly a fact loud enough to frighten him more than the lack of an education. He was not entirely sure he was ready to father five children who belonged to another man, even if he was a dead man. He placed that letter aside before reading the second paragraph. He made a mental note to send this woman a generous sum to assist her plight, anonymously of course.
This left two viable prospects. The first of these, a woman named Miss Leah Elizabeth Martin. She was not of titled birth but seemed to pen a proper letter of introduction. She was aged twenty and one years, nearly on the shelf -- but giving her the benefit of the doubt, he would have to meet with her in person to ascertain her situation and personality. She had several points in her favor, the first being she had no children. She had not been married before nor engaged and neither was she too old. She lived at present in London with her mother and stepfather but longed to return to the countryside where she had been raised as a child. She stated she could sew, knit, mend, cook, bake, govern a household properly, read, write, and care for children if there were not too many.
She seemed sensible and her penmanship was nearly perfect. He laid her letter aside as the first of letters to which he would reply and request an interview. She seemed as if she would at the very least be, reliable. She also seemed to have an element of honesty hidden within the letter, as she mentioned she would perhaps not be able to care for too many children. He wondered how many children, were, too many? She also seemed very business-like, as if she were applying for a position, such as a governess. He liked that she did not divulge too many details. This might lead one to conclude she was discreet and would protect his honor in the future.
On the other hand, he wished she had been slightly more personable in the letter or have shared something with him in which she was more passionate about besides her desire to return to the countryside. It could be safe to assume based on her statements, she would be most comfortable living a quiet, respectable life in the country. On this point, he felt he had indeed made some connection with her. He was not fond of the social whirl of the ton and could relate to her desire to return to a private life in the solitude of a country setting.
She failed to mention what her stepfather's occupation was, if any. She made no mention of any connections or references. This information could be obtained by interview, however.
The remaining letter was most intriguing of all…The Honorable Alexandra Nicole Benningham. He instantly liked the way her name sounded. Nineteen years of age, she was of titled birth, the daughter and only child of a recently deceased Viscount and parish vicar. She resided at the manse in a small parish on the northern outskirts of London. Her mother had died from a severe case of influenza when she was but the age of thirteen.
She had been permitted to remain in residence at the manse for the past year since her father's death due to the extreme kindness and benevolence of her benefactress, who also intended to see to it Alexandra had a true “coming out ball” as promised her father on his deathbed. Alexandra wrote, in her own words she was “at present, very sad to find herself in the unfortunate position of being in great debt to her benefactress for my living arrangements. As such, I am very nearly reluctant to accept such an expensive and lavish affair at the hand of my benefactress, Lady Victoria Aramonda Dresden, though I do understand it to be a duty compelled of great sacrifice and compassion from someone completely devoted to my late beloved father.” She wrote that it was to her misfortune her father's small estate (located in Somerset) was entailed to an uncle who had set sail for America and had not yet been located. She had no other living relations and no current evident means of self-support and thought “perhaps, if they were suitable to each other, a marriage might be most agreeable to both of them by mutual consent.”
The letter went on to say she desired “to live a quiet and secluded life in the countryside and would immensely enjoy supporting her husband in every possible way in his agricultural and farming pursuits.” She enjoyed “needlepoint and sewing, drawing an
d art, music, literature and gardening.” She said being the daughter of a vicar, naturally she was passionate about her faith in Jesus Christ as her Savior and her favorite book to read was the Bible, her most treasured possession.
She wrote that in addition to having had a governess for two years where she had studied history and other lessons common to young ladies, she had also been privately tutored in French for two years.
She enjoyed dancing, as in a charming country dance from time to time when the opportunity had presented itself and had never been to a ball other than a few times at Christmas at the residence of her benefactress, where a great many had been in attendance.
She assured him she would be a most devoted wife and would do her best to learn everything he might require of her in the way of her duties. She asked where they would be situated were he to choose her as his bride. He thought this sentence to show great insight on her part, an insight most unusual in a girl of her age. She closed the letter by writing she was very much looking forward to his reply. She added a post script asking him to overlook and forgive her boldness to ask if he might grant permission for her piano to be delivered or if one might already be located at his residence. He smiled, thinking how delighted she would eventually be to find not one but two available and in residence at Ivy Clifton Hall, as well as one at the Hanwell farm.
To Find a Duchess Page 4