The Reclusive Duke

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The Reclusive Duke Page 9

by Fenella J Miller


  'The children told me that you were writing a book, but I had no idea it was ready for publication. It is not the done thing for a lady to write for a living; do you intend to use a pseudonym?'

  'No, I am proud of my writing. This is another reason I have no wish to wed as a husband would have complete control of my finances and my life. At the moment, I am independent…'

  'Forgive me for saying so, but your independence is reliant entirely on the generosity of the children's guardian. Do not you think it might be wise to disguise your name? From what I've learned of the duke, he is a stickler for the rules. I think he might react badly if you became the centre of unpleasant gossip.'

  'This is another reason I wish to be paid for what I do as then I won't be beholden to anyone. If he decides to remove the children from my care and sends me about my business, then so be it. I'm sure you understand it's essential for me to build my reputation as a writer, so I can support myself if needs be.'

  Her friend remained unconvinced. 'In my opinion, Lydia, you should find yourself a doting husband who will allow you to do whatever you please. An older man, with deep pockets and no desire to fill his nursery, would be ideal for you.'

  Strangely, at these words, an image of the duke's dark features filled her head.

  Chapter Nine

  'Am I making the kind of progress you expected? Will I be a whole man again?' Everett asked the doctor.

  'Your leg should function as it used to, your grace. I suggest that you use your crutches initially and just put weight on your leg occasionally until you have become accustomed to using it.'

  'The party is in four days' time. I intend to be walking normally by then.'

  'You should be walking normally by tomorrow. I'm looking forward to the event – it's a long time since I attended anything of the kind.'

  'I can scarcely recall the names of most of the people I invited as it's so long since I mingled with my neighbours. Digby has assured me all the necessary people have been included and after the party I expect to be in circulation once more. I must thank you for making this possible. I owe you a debt of gratitude I can never repay.'

  'I have been well paid for my services, your grace, and seeing you back on your feet is reward enough. I became a physician to help people – you do not owe me anything more.'

  'Once my guests see my miraculous recovery you will be inundated with requests for your services.'

  'I am already oversubscribed, your grace, as word of my work has travelled around the vicinity already. I have taken on an assistant, an apothecary, who in future will deal with the minor cases, leaving me free to deal with anything major.'

  The doctor departed satisfied that his handiwork was successful. Everett had used his injured leg several times already and decided to abandon his crutches immediately and not wait until the next day.

  Bates hovered anxiously in case he was needed. The young man had become part of his life, and he intended to keep him on even though he already had a perfectly good valet. There were always messages to be run, things to be fetched and Bates would be ideal for this purpose.

  'In future you will not wear livery, Bates, but dress as my personal assistant. Digby will take care of this.'

  He handed his crutches over and received his ivory cane in return. He had no wish to damage his repaired leg by overdoing it too soon, using his stick was a sensible precaution but one he would abandon before the party.

  Walking was no longer agony, and with every step he took he became more confident. After half an hour he was certain his leg was sound. He was cured. Tonight he would sleep in the correct place for the first time in his life. The master suite had been unoccupied since his father had died and he was eager to see his new domain.

  'Come with me, Bates, I'm going to inspect my chambers. Then I intend to ride. I wish you to accompany me – I take it you can ride?'

  'I can, your grace, my pa was an ostler at the Red Lion.'

  That afternoon Everett was astride his beloved stallion, Othello, and Bates was mounted on a bay. From somewhere the young man had acquired suitable garments and now looked as he should.

  'I'm going to ride over to the Dower House, you will wait with the horses whilst I am there. I doubt I shall be more than half an hour.'

  This time he cantered down to the drive that led to his destination and didn't take the path through the woods. He wished for his arrival to be seen.

  Benji bounded out of the shrubbery and hurtled towards him. The dog had the sense to slow his speed before he collided with Othello. His stallion was familiar with the dog and the sudden arrival didn't spook him. 'Good afternoon, I'm pleased to see you too, my boy. You are looking well – living here obviously suits you.'

  The dog stretched up his head and licked Everett's gloved hand. If the dog was out here, then the older children could not be far away. Sure enough their voices echoed in the trees and then they ran towards him.

  His stallion was unfamiliar with children and might take exception to them. He could not risk either of them being hurt so he kicked his feet from the stirrups and swung to the ground. Instinctively he braced himself for the agony he had always felt when his damaged leg hit the ground – but he landed smoothly and with no pain at all.

  He didn't have to ask Bates to take his horse, the young man was already dismounted and was ready to take the reins.

  He walked towards the running children and was mystified when they skidded to a halt, and stared at him open-mouthed.

  'You can walk, sir, we didn't know you could do that,' the boy said.

  'I can indeed, and intend to do so at every possible opportunity. I have come to speak to your aunt – is she receiving this afternoon?'

  'Receiving what? I think all our new clothes have arrived,' the boy said.

  The girl pushed her brother sending him sprawling. 'You are so stupid, Richard. His grace means is Aunt Lydia ready to speak to any visitors.'

  'That was poorly done of you young lady. Help your brother to his feet and apologise immediately.' He had not intended to intervene but he could not let such bad behaviour go unchecked.

  The girl turned pale, curtsied, grabbed her brother and muttered an apology. The two of them shuffled backwards, no longer comfortable in his company. Then they turned and fled – the dog growled at him and then raced after them.

  'What the devil was that all about?'

  'Forgive me for saying so, your grace, but I don't reckon they've ever been spoken to so sharply by a gentleman like you. Fair scared them half to death.'

  'I'd no wish to frighten them, but I'm unfamiliar with children as no doubt you observed. Take the horses into the stable yard – it's through that arch over there, I shall speak to Miss Sinclair and send word when I want Othello brought round to me.'

  He had expected her to be waiting for him at the front door but his arrival had gone unobserved and unannounced. Being obliged to hammer on the door was not something he was accustomed to, and not something he intended to make a habit of.

  When a flustered servant girl eventually let him in he was in a foul humour and was in two minds to storm off in high dudgeon.

  *

  'Thank you so much, Lydia, for allowing me to read your novel. I was up all night finishing it. I've never read anything quite as good.'

  'I have tried to combine the Gothic within a realistic setting. I am so pleased you enjoyed it, Viola – that has given me the impetus I need to take it to London.'

  'Perhaps it might be wise to write an introductory letter to one or two companies rather than arrive with your manuscript under your arm.'

  'I have decided not to do that as that gives the publisher an opportunity to reject me without having seen my book. I believe I will get a better hearing if I appear in person.'

  They were interrupted by an extremely upset maid. 'I beg your pardon, miss, but his grace is here and is in a frightful temper. He wanted to know why he had been ignored as he had been knocking at the front door for an age
. He all but bit my head off when I said you were busy.'

  Viola was on her feet in a trice. 'I shall go and find the children; I have left them on their own for far too long already.' She vanished in a flash of skirt leaving Lydia to face the unwanted visitor alone.

  'I hope you have shown his grace into the drawing room?'

  'Yes, miss, and I asked him if he wanted any refreshments and he told me to go away.'

  'Please don't be upset, Mary, he's famous for his bad humour. I shall go and speak to him myself and see what has made him so cross.'

  She was tempted to leave him kicking his heels for another ten minutes or so, but thought better of it. As he was already annoyed about being kept waiting, it would not be wise to exacerbate matters. If he had come over in his gig she would have expected him to enter by the side door rather than come around to the front.

  She pinned a pleasant smile on her face, checked that her skirts were hanging smoothly and there was no ink on her fingers, and then stepped into the drawing room. 'Good heavens! I did not expect to see you without your crutches so soon.' She had not intended to say this but was so surprised to see him prowling about the drawing room with not even the slightest limp she had been unable to keep the words back.

  'My leg is mended, Miss Sinclair, and I rode over to see how you are all progressing with your riding. I did not expect to be left standing on your doorstep like an unwanted parcel.'

  She couldn't stop an involuntary giggle at his analogy. The last thing she would have compared him to was a parcel. 'I can only apologise, your grace, but no one was aware you were here.'

  'Do you find the situation amusing?'

  She was about to apologise again but then decided that in her own home she could do as she wished; if he didn't like the way she behaved then he need not visit her here again.

  'As a matter of fact, sir, I do. Describing yourself as a parcel appealed to my sense of the ridiculous. If you had said, "an unwanted panther" or "mountain lion" I would have nodded and agreed with you.'

  Then she saw the glimmer of amusement in his eyes and realised he had been teasing her, pretending to be angry at her amusement.

  'Mountain lion? Panther? Are you saying that I resemble a feline?'

  She gestured towards the seat before answering. He strolled across, flicked aside the tails of his jacket and folded his long length onto the chair.

  'You have a tendency to prowl, your grace, and the colouring of a panther.'

  'I've been called worse in my time, my dear, and I'm not at all offended by your impertinence.'

  She opened her mouth to protest then saw he was laughing at her again. She rather liked this new version of the duke, she had not thought him a man with a sense of humour until now.

  'I gather from your response to my maid that you have no wish for refreshments to be brought.'

  A faint flush coloured his cheeks and he shrugged. 'I'm sorry if I upset your servant, I had no right to take it out on her.' He paused as if thinking whether he should continue and she raised an eyebrow. He chuckled and resumed his sentence. 'I have never been obliged to knock on a front door myself before today – it is not something I wish to do again.'

  Whatever she had expected him to say, it certainly was not this. She leaned forward in her chair, not sure if he was being serious or jesting again. 'If you don't knock on the door, how do you gain entry?'

  'I expect the door to be opened before I arrive because a vigilant servant has seen me approaching. Failing that, a servant would do the knocking for me.'

  She shook her head in disbelief. 'I had no idea that knocking on the door was so unacceptable amongst the toplofty members of society. Or is it just a duke who must not lower himself in this way?' She sat back, shaking her head in puzzlement. 'Last time you entered by the side door, that must have been a disagreeable experience for you, your grace.'

  He nodded solemnly. 'It was indeed, my dear, and being obliged to go in by the back door is even worse than having to knock on the front.'

  This badinage had gone on long enough. She wanted to know why he had come to see her. 'Your grace, forgive me, but was there something particular you wished to say to me that brought you here so unexpectedly?'

  His eyes narrowed at her choice of words and she swallowed nervously. 'I came to enquire how the new governess is settling in and if you are satisfied with her work.'

  'That is doing it too brown, your grace, as we both know you have no interest whatsoever in Miss Carstairs. You must supply me with a better reason than that.'

  This time his smile was genuine – until that moment she had not understood just how attractive he was. Although there were deep lines etched on either side of his mouth from the years of pain he had endured, she now saw him as a handsome and charming man – not old at all.

  'I am found out in my prevarication. I came, my dear, because I had nowhere else to go. I have not walked normally for five years. I just wished to share this good news with somebody.'

  'And I'm glad that you chose to come here, your grace. I can imagine how wonderful it must be for you to be able to do the things that were impossible until now. By the way, thank you for your kind invitation to your party the day after tomorrow. Miss Carstairs and I are so looking forward to it.'

  *

  He had not known the governess was included. Digby had overstepped the mark here. He did not hide his expression of displeasure quickly enough and the atmosphere in the room changed from relaxed to icy.

  'I take it from your expression of disgust, your grace, that it was not you that invited us. We will not come, we have no wish to intrude at an event that is not meant for lesser mortals such as ourselves.'

  She was on her feet and staring pointedly at the door and he had no option but to do as she indicated. Now was not the time to explain his reaction had been because of the governess, that he truly wanted her to be there. He was shocked that she considered herself on the same level as Miss Carstairs when she came from a good, if impoverished, family.

  He rose smoothly and bowed formally. 'I bid you good afternoon, Miss Sinclair.'

  She nodded, but did not curtsy. He strode out wishing he had not been so maladroit – it was too long since he had spent time with a young lady of quality and he was sadly out of practice.

  When he stopped, he recalled that he had not sent word to the stables to ask for his horse to be brought round. His leg was aching like the very devil and he feared he had overdone it today. To his surprise and delight Bates was there and, without being asked, gave him a leg up into the saddle. For their return they took the shortcut through the woods and Everett was glad to be back. He was damned if he was going to limp his way into the house, he gritted his teeth and strode off as if there was nothing bothering him at all.

  He now had to negotiate the enormous oak staircase that dominated the entrance hall and he wasn't sure he could manage it without assistance. Then Bates was at his elbow and said quietly. 'Lean on me, your grace, I'll get you to your apartment without mishap.'

  Michaels took one look at him and tutted under his breath. 'I think you have been overdoing it, your grace, you won't want to be going down again today. I'll have your dinner brought up on a tray.'

  Everett scarcely remembered being divested of his garments by both men, he raised and lowered his arms like a small child and when his valet dropped a voluminous nightshirt over his head he did not protest.

  He flopped back into bed with a sigh of relief. He closed his eyes and tried to encourage his knotted muscles to relax. The curtains on the enormous bed had been drawn around giving him privacy and welcome darkness.

  He dozed for a while, and when he awoke he was feeling much restored. He flinched when he moved his leg, but was grateful it did still respond to his command. He yelled for attention and Michaels appeared holding a tray.

  'I have brought you a large whisky, your grace, and a jug of coffee.'

  Everett pushed himself upright and shoved a few pillows behind him. 'Exac
tly what I would like, thank you.'

  He was on his third cup when he heard a voice he recognised. Doctor Adams had been sent for. He was about to swing his legs to the floor when the young man came in and waved him back.

  'Stay where you are, your grace, I think you have done more than enough walking today.'

  'I overdid it, I was so pleased I could walk that I quite forgot the strictures you had given me. I sincerely hope I have not undone your excellent work by my foolishness.'

  The physician examined his leg and got him to flex and bend it. 'No, your grace, everything is as it should be. The muscles on this leg are weak and it will take some time for you to get the full strength back into them. You must take things easier in future – let nature take its course.'

  'I give you my word I will rest tomorrow and the following day, and not do anything strenuous until the evening of the party.'

  'I'm glad to hear it, sir. I shall leave you now. Do not get up again today.'

  As soon as he was gone Everett rang the bell that stood on the bedside table and this time Bates appeared. 'Fetch me pen and paper, and something to lean on, I wish to write a letter. When I'm done, you can deliver it to the Dower House.'

  Chapter Ten

  When Lydia received the letter from the duke she was tempted to tear it up without reading it but she thought better of it and broke the seal.

  Miss Sinclair

  I cannot remember ever having apologised for anything in my life before and yet here I am tendering my apologies to you again. My only excuse for my appalling rudeness is that I have been brought up to think of myself as a superior being and therefore have a tendency to consider everyone else as my inferior.

  I would like to invite both you and Miss Carstairs to attend the party tomorrow. I will not take no for an answer. I shall send a carriage to collect you both at eight o'clock.

  I am yours to command…

  She wasn't sure if she was shocked or amused by his words. He had certainly apologised, he had issued a formal invitation to both her and her friend, but she was still unsure if he did consider them inferiors.

 

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