by Abigail Agar
“Your brother wishes to see you,” Lady St Claire informed Fredrick who had just come in the front door.
Fredrick raised his eyebrow in concern at his mother’s tone. “Is everything rosy?”
“Why don’t you take it up with the Duke of Thornton?” Lady St Claire threw back at her son as she pulled the door closed firmly behind herself.
Fredrick was left standing in the front foyer completely confused and a little afraid of what he might find in the drawing room. He drew in a deep breath and made his way towards his father’s old drawing room, where Gregory now spent most of his time writing the correspondence and financial tinkering that running a large estate entailed.
Once he arrived at the door, Fredrick paused a moment to adjust the wooden leg. It was chaffing him terribly after the walk in the front garden. He rapped his knuckles on the door when he was somewhat comfortable again.
“Come in,” Gregory’s voice called from behind the thick wooden door.
Fredrick opened the door warily. “Is it safe to enter?” he called.
“I did say for you to come in, but you are welcome to stand in the hallway and yell like a simpleton,” Gregory said in irritation.
Fredrick eased into the room as Gregory laid down the pen next to the fount that the man had just dipped the pen into. “Mother seemed rather upset,” Fredrick noted conversationally.
“Yes, she is like that often,” Gregory said simply. “She was just being dramatic, and I called her on it.”
Fredrick whistled, “I cannot imagine that ending poorly.”
Gregory continued as he ignored his brother’s sarcastic remark, “Julia has taken ill. So, I will not be attending the dance that was tonight.”
“I am terribly sorry that the lady is not feeling well, but I hardly think that is something I needed to know urgently,” Fredrick said in confusion.
Gregory shook his head. “I actually needed to talk to you about the country estate.”
“What about it?” Fredrick asked warily.
Gregory shrugged. “It needs full-time supervision. We’ve increased the staffing, and there needs to be some oversight,” he said logically.
“I thought we had an overseer for the estate,” Fredrick said. “What happened to Trent?”
Gregory sighed, “He is too old and wishes to retire to a small farm of his own.”
“Not a bad plan.” Fredrick agreed with the man. “So, what does that have to do with me?”
Gregory shook his head at his brother. “I thought you might want to take the position on personally while I look for a replacement? It would give you time to recover at your own rate without the pressure of mother or anyone else.”
Fredric stared at his brother for a moment before he smiled. “That actually does not sound like a bad idea,” Fredrick admitted.
“You make it sound as if I never have any ideas,” Gregory said in vexation.
Fredrick disagreed, “Quite the contrary. You have ideas all the time. They just are not routinely ones of great value.”
“I think I just changed my mind,” Gregory said as he narrowed his eyes at his brother.
Fredrick laughed, “You know I was only jesting.”
“For someone who has ideas, maybe it would be obvious, but I am afraid that my simple brain cannot understand the complexity of a jest,” Gregory said as he rose.
With a roll of his eyes, Fredrick asked, “When am I needed at the estate?”
“Whenever you wish to leave,” Gregory said with a smile.
Fredrick asked, “Are you sure you will not need me here to help out?”
“I think that right now, you should be concentrating on getting better,” Gregory assured his brother. “We will be fine. Though, I would appreciate it if you came for the wedding.”
Fredrick laughed and replied, “If you actually get her to the altar, then I will definitely be there.”
“That might just be the trick, indeed,” Gregory agreed with a nod of his head.
Chapter 5
Jules lay in bed pondering just how she would get out of all this. There was a knock at the door, but Jules pretended that she did not hear it. Sherry had gone to fetch some supper from the kitchens, and Jules had no interest in talking to anyone.
As Jules lay there with her eyes closed, she heard the door creak open. There were footfalls across the floor, heavier than Sherry’s light shoes. A hand touched Jules’ forehead, and her eyes popped open in surprise.
Duke St Claire gave Jules an apologetic smile. “I did not mean to wake you. I just wanted to come check on you.” He cleared his throat and continued, “I was concerned when Sherry did not answer the door.”
“She went to get food,” Jules said thickly. The idea that the man was actually that concerned about her made guilt well up inside her for wanting to run away. Surely he had done nothing so wrong as to deserve her spite.
Duke St Claire nodded, and his blond hair shifted with his movements. “I will leave you to your rest,” he said quietly.
“Thank you,” Jules said. With a nod of his head, the man was swiftly out of the room as if he had never been there. Jules rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands.
Sherry came in a few moments later and sat a tray of food on the nightstand. “Are you okay, Miss?”
Jules sat up in bed and shook her head. “His Grace came in here to check on me,” she said softly.
“Oh?” Sherry asked curiously. “What about that makes you so upset?”
Jules looked over at the woman and said, “Honestly, it is more that he never behaves quite how I think he should.”
“And he should just do as you wish he would all the time?” Sherry asked in amusement. “It is my experience that men rarely do what we wish they would at any given time.”
Jules sighed, “I just wish he was easier to understand.”
“Maybe he is only hard to pin down because you want him to be something other than what he is,” Sherry said sagely. “My mother always said that you can dress a man in fine clothes, but it does not make him a gentleman. You simply cannot make people behave contrary to who they are.”
With a frown, Jules said, “It would be so much easier if he did.”
“Easier for you to hate him, you mean,” Sherry filled in for Jules. Jules sank down in bed. Her appetite had fled.
***
Gregory spotted Sherry in the hallway the following morning and called out for her to await him. “How fares Miss Kelley?” Gregory enquired as he came abreast of the young woman.
Sherry thought for a moment then said, “I don’t know for sure, Your Grace. She seemed well enough, then she refused to eat last night saying that she was not hungry.”
Gregory frowned. He did not like the sound of that. Miss Kelley had not seemed so ill when he talked to her last night. “Perhaps I should check in on her,” Gregory mused out loud.
“It might help her spirits, Your Grace,” Sherry said with a curtsey. The Duke nodded and then set off down the hallway towards Miss Kelley’s room with purpose. Sherry smiled to herself.
***
When Gregory reached the door, he knocked hesitantly. He did not want to startle the woman as he had the night before. “Miss Kelley?” Gregory called. He listened for noises behind the shut door but heard none. “Miss Kelley, are you well?” Gregory tried again.
With great care, Gregory opened the door. He saw the shape of the young woman in the bed. “Miss Kelley?”
He was almost to the bed when he noticed that the shape was just pillows, and fear struck through his chest. “Miss Sherry,” Gregory bellowed for the chambermaid.
The young maid arrived in a fluster. “What is it, Your Grace?” Sherry asked, and then she saw the man holding up the covers with pillows stuffed under it. Sherry burst into tears. “Oh no, she really did run off,” Sherry cried.
Gregory felt the fear morph into anger that he had never quite felt before. He had never truly experienced anything akin to a betrayal from someone
he cared about. No, he had held people at a distance much more effectively than even his brother had. This was not acceptable, Gregory’s mind screamed.
“Tell me everything that Miss Kelley has said to you over the last day,” Gregory said with a warning reverberation to his voice.
The chambermaid shrunk back. She had never seen The Duke so angry, and it frightened her. “Of course, Your Grace,” Sherry mumbled quickly.
***
The streets seemed freer to Jules as she tromped her way through the streets in her old clothes. She felt as if she could not breathe with the corsets and dresses that Lady St Claire had insisted on. Perhaps this was where Jules really belonged.
She ran her hand along the wood of the door to her old home. The building was stark and empty. Jules was sure it would not stay that way. Someone would come along to squat in the building and make it a home again.
There was hollowness in her heart as Jules’ thoughts went to her family. She wondered if she would ever see them again. The Duke had said she would, but then did she really trust the man?
Her thoughts echoed back, why should she not trust him? He had done what he had promised, had he not? Jules shook the thoughts away and turned around. She stilled. Down the street from where she stood was Duke St Claire. He was dressed in his expensive clothes and stood out starkly on the street.
Jules watched the man walk towards her and found herself incapable of fleeing. There had been every intention of going back once she got her head clear, but somehow the man had found her quicker than she had thought.
The Duke stopped a few feet from her. “It was foolish to run off as you did,” he said in a low voice.
Jules could hear the anger behind the words, and it stilled her heart. The higher rungs of society were not known for their patience and gentle temperament. “I was going to come back,” Jules said hastily as she wrung her hands. “I just needed to clear my head.”
The blond-haired Duke did not look moved. Finally, he said, “We should go. I left a horse with a boy just up the road.”
“I’m sorry that I put you through so much trouble,” Jules said as the nobleman turned and began walking away. She had to run to catch up with his long strides. “Please, do not take your anger at me out on my family, Your Grace, I beg you,” Jules pleaded as she hurried to keep pace with the man.
All at once, The Duke stopped and turned toward Jules, causing her to take a step backwards out of reflex. “Is that how little you think of me?” The man’s words held anger, and to Jules’ surprise, disgust.
“I,” Jules began but fell silent. What did she think of the man? Jules took a deep breath and said, “I think you are a very odd nobleman.”
The Duke looked at Jules in confusion then to her shock the man began to laugh. It was a deep rumbling laugh, and the sound of it made Jules smile. She watched him a bit confused herself as to what she had said that was so humorous to the man.
“You think that I am odd? The woman dressed as a man in broad daylight?” the Duke spoke through his laughter. He brought his arms out as if beckoning answers from the clouds themselves as he asked Jules, “What makes me such a peculiarity to you, Miss Kelley?”
Jules thought of several replies but simply said, “You are kind.”
“And nobles cannot broach such a state? Do you think that all we do is beat poor maids and children?” The Duke’s voice held amusement but also a bit of scorn that Jules could understand.
Jules looked down at her feet. Her dark hair fell forward from under her cap where she had neglected to pin it in her haste. “I think that we might both be a bit mistaken about each other, Your Grace. I am sorry for my rash decision.”
“You should not be,” the Duke said with a shrug. “If I were in your position, then I might very well have done the same. Despite what you might think about me, Miss Kelley, we have more in common than you think. I am rather hoping that we can help each other.”
***
Jules stood in front of the mirror and adjusted the blue dress. She frowned at her reflection. Despite the fact that the Duke had told her that he needed her to help him, he had not yet told her with what. And frankly, Jules had never been good at waiting.
Sherry smiled at Jules’ reflection. “It suits you very well,” she complimented.
“Perhaps, but I really don’t see why the corset is necessary,” Jules complained.
Sherry laughed softly and said, “Lady St Claire never goes without her corset. She thinks it is scandalous.”
“They can write about me in all the papers they wish,” Jules said woefully, “if only I can take it off.”
Sherry scoffed, “You are lucky she doesn’t make you wear it to bed at night.”
Jules frowned and sighed. She was here to play this ridiculous part, and she was going to play it, but that did not mean that she had to be happy about it. “Was the Duke in-house when you went to fetch breakfast?”
“I do not know, Ma’am,” Sherry said then added thoughtfully, “if he is, then he is more than likely in his study. Do you want me to check with his manservant and see what his schedule is for the day?”
Jules shrugged. “I think it is time I made my reappearance into the household before Lady St Claire sends her blood letter after me,” Jules said with a frown.
“Doctor Shannon is a fine physician,” Sherry said with a slight laugh. She had grown used to Jules’ distrust of society and everyone around it.
Jules nodded and rolled her wrists. “Of course, he is. Just like the physicians who give poison to people and call it vaccines,” Jules said with distaste. “Besides, we both know that I am not sick, and I have no interest in becoming that way.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Sherry said as she gathered up the ribbons she had laid out earlier and put them away. “I do like that light blue ribbon in your hair, Ma’am,” Sherry commented as she put the accessories away in an ornate wooden box.
Jules turned her head to the side so she could see the ribbon more plainly. “It is rather pretty,” Jules agreed with a hint of a smile.
***
“You cannot be serious with this,” Lady St Claire said with impatience to her son Gregory. “Why would anyone want to burn down a factory with children inside?”
Gregory eyed his mother steadily and reminded her, “Someone really did burn that factory down, and the exits were sealed. I had one of my insurance men go over the building with me. Even the local police think it was arson, although if you ask me, I think they are pointing the fingers at the wrong group.”
“It is just horrific to even think of it,” Lady St Claire said. She fanned herself with a lace fan as if she could blow away the very thoughts of the fire. “I do wish you would not bring up such things. What if your betrothed overheard you?”
“I think she would agree with me,” Gregory said simply. He smiled with delight at the look of frustration on his mother’s face. “Oh, come now, Mother. With her background, do you honestly think she is some shrinking violet?”
Lady St Claire sighed. “I daresay that after all of these years waiting for you to pick a bride, that I never know what to expect from you or those you choose, Gregory.”
“Oh, that reminds me, Fredrick left this morning to go to the country estate,” Gregory said as he leaned back in his father’s chair. “I think he seemed rather pleased.”