What would she do if he did? Would being married to him be so very awful? The children would remain in her care until they were grown, and she would no longer have sole responsibility for their upbringing. That could only be a good thing as it would leave her more time to write.
Her fingers clenched. That was the reason she could never marry him. He would not allow her to become a published author – he had made that perfectly clear last night. Not even for the well-being of the children and her own comfort would she give up her determination to become a published author.
If only she had not injured her ankle she could set out for London immediately. However, this excursion would have to wait until she was able to walk normally. Two journeymen touched their caps as they wandered past on their way to collect their gardening tools.
There was the sound of voices coming from the stable yard and the kitchen door opened and shut a couple of times. Her staff were up and about their duties – she hadn't realised just how early they began their day. She couldn't see the need for this as there was no urgency for anything to be done at the crack of dawn. She would speak to the housekeeper upon this subject and ensure that in future no one was obliged to start their day so early unless they wished to.
The bandage on her ankle had meant she could not wear a shoe on that foot and she would have to consider what she could do about this before her visitor arrived.
'Good morning, miss, the kettle is singing and there's plenty of bread from yesterday. I can toast some and bring you something out here.' A smiling maid dipped in a curtsy.
'That would be wonderful, thank you. And some of that delicious strawberry conserve to go with the toast, if that is not too much trouble. This morning I would prefer coffee rather than chocolate. I shall make my way around to the terrace, so please bring my breakfast there.'
She had just heard the church clock in the village strike eight times when the unmistakable sound of a horse approaching made her start. Surely the wretched man could not be coming at this hour? Even he must know visiting so early was unacceptable.
Then she relaxed as the young doctor came into view. She was glad she had had the foresight to place her injured limb on a chair so it was elevated as she had been instructed. He raised his hand in greeting and she responded. He trotted around to the back to leave his horse and then joined her.
'What are you doing down here, Miss Sinclair? I thought I gave you strict instructions to remain upstairs?'
'I could not stay indoors on such a beautiful morning. I hope you will join me for coffee and toast?'
'I should be delighted, but first I will take a look at your ankle.' He looked unnaturally serious. 'I don't know if you are aware of this, but it was the fact that the duke did not rest after his leg was set that aggravated his injury, and caused him to be in pain and find walking all but impossible.'
'Mr Digby told me, but that was not the only reason for his trouble. I gather his leg had not been set correctly either. I appreciate your concern, sir, but my ankle is merely sprained so the two cases are not in any way alike.'
He did not look critically impressed by this statement but made no comment. Instead he flicked aside her skirts and expertly prodded and poked her ankle. She winced a couple of times but made no sound.
'You do not appear to have done it any serious harm by your unnecessary exertions, Miss Sinclair. Whatever your feelings on the matter, it will heal much quicker if you do as I suggest.'
'I shall remain here until the sun comes around and makes it uncomfortably hot – then I shall recline on the chaise longue in the drawing room. However, what I will not do, is remain in my apartment.'
'Then I must be satisfied with that. I am going to call on his grace now, I have a feeling that he overdid it yesterday and might well be feeling the consequences today.'
After sharing her breakfast, he took his leave. She had expected him to enquire after the well-being of Viola but he had said nothing; perhaps he was not interested in her friend in a romantic way after all.
*
When a nervous footman announced that Dr Adams had come to see him, Everett frowned. The last thing he wanted was for his physician to tell him to slow down, not to go and see Lydia for a second time.
'Send him in; have coffee brought.' He had barely had time to position himself on a comfortable chair as if he had been sitting reading a journal, and not pacing about the study lost in thought, when the young man strolled in.
'Good morning, your grace, I wish to apologise for leaving without speaking to you last night. Miss Sinclair had only sprained her ankle, nothing more serious, and so I departed without coming back into the house.'
He obviously didn't know anything about the excursion in the middle of the night and Everett decided it should remain a secret between himself and Lydia – no, that wasn't correct – the children were in on it too.
'Thank you for taking time to call in and inform me. I am riding over there myself shortly as I have had some news from Mr Digby that I must give her.'
The doctor flipped aside his coat-tails and sat down. 'It was a thoroughly enjoyable occasion last night, your grace, I much appreciated been included on your guest list. I found Miss Carstairs delightful company and intend to further my acquaintance with her.'
Everett wasn't accustomed to talking about such things. His parents didn't discuss personal feelings and thoughts with each other, let alone their sons. His role had been to behave impeccably at all times and not to show the slightest emotion however upset or unwell he might be. He had been severely punished if he transgressed and broke the strict rules of etiquette and protocol that had ruled his family for generations.
He poured himself a cup of coffee from the silver jug and sipped it thoughtfully. He was the Duke of Hemingford now and could do anything he damn well pleased. When the children came to live with him they would not be forced to abide by the strict regime he and his brother had suffered. He would allow them to run free as they were doing now, to enjoy their life, and he would never inflict physical chastisement on any of them however dire their behaviour. As long as they were polite, worked hard at their schoolbooks, he would be satisfied.
'We have heard from an uncle of the children that he wishes to take them from me and bring them up himself as he is a closer blood relative than I. He will do so over my dead body. I know I didn't want them initially, but in the short time they have been here I have come to enjoy their company and wish to get to know them better.'
'Is your man applying to the court to have you made their legal guardian? I can't see any judge in the land being willing to hand them over when they are already in the care of a duke.'
'Yes, he's taking care of things, as he always does. A little over two months ago I had almost given up – was contemplating taking the easy way out. Much has changed in so short a time – and all because of your intervention.'
'I'm happy to be of service, your grace, but I rather think you would have adapted to your circumstances once Miss Sinclair and the children came into your life.'
'I wish you to call me Hemingford, I now count you as a friend. I will tell you in the strictest confidence that I intend to marry Lydia Sinclair at the earliest possible opportunity. I take it you intend to do the same with the governess?'
The young man looked somewhat startled by his announcement. 'I had not thought that far ahead, I've only met her once. Indeed, are you quite sure you are not being a trifle precipitate? I would have thought you would need rather more than three weeks to make such an important decision.'
Chapter Fourteen
Lydia had given her word to Dr Adams not to go upstairs until she retired therefore she would have to see his grace dressed as she was in her simple morning gown. Beth had attended her in the drawing room and rearranged her hair in a more becoming style, but she could hardly change her gown anywhere but in the privacy of her dressing room.
'Aunt Lydia, Miss Carstairs said we are not to mention what happened last night to a
nyone and especially not to the twins. Why is that?' The boy was genuinely puzzled by this. Richard and Emma had been given a short break from their studies and had chosen to come in to see her rather than rush about outside as they usually did.
'The duke is a very important man, Richard, and people might think his behaviour quite extraordinary. We have no wish to cause him any embarrassment, have we?' The boy shook his head.
'I remember once when Mama and Papa were home that he went off in the middle of the night to see someone. Mama said it was because he was in his cups – but I don't know what that meant.'
His sister explained it to him. 'It means that he had taken too much alcohol, Richard. Gentlemen like to do this quite a lot.'
'Good heavens! Whoever told you that, Emma?'
'I heard Mrs Turnbull saying it after church last week. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but she does have rather a loud voice.'
Lydia smiled at the girl. 'You are quite right to say so, my love. I don't think we need worry ourselves about such things, in my experience most gentlemen are very well behaved.'
They kept glancing out of the window and she realised they were hoping to see the duke during their short period of recreation.
'You must run along now, Miss Carstairs will be expecting you. I shall send word when his grace arrives as I'm sure he will wish to speak to you.'
'We like him a lot, Aunt Lydia; we didn't when we first met him, you know. We think he's a jolly good fellow.'
'Richard is right, now he is able to get about easily he's not dark and grumpy all the time.'
The children scampered off happy to do so now they knew they wouldn't miss seeing their new friend when he came. She had yet to come up with a set of questions that wouldn't sound presumptuous. She could hardly ask him if his intentions were honourable or if he wished to make her his mistress.
Was it possible he had been bosky? That would account for his visit, but from what the children had told her, and they had repeated it several times in great detail, he had not shown the slightest signs of inebriation.
Her niece was right to say the duke was a changed man. Could it be that his curmudgeonly behaviour had been caused by his inability to get about the place? An active gentleman would not enjoy being restricted as he had been before Dr Adams had reset his leg.
She was still trying to formulate her approach when he arrived in person. He strode in as if he owned the place – which in fact he did – nodded casually, gave her a heart-stopping smile and dropped into the nearest chair as if he belonged there.
'Good morning, I know you told me to present myself this afternoon but I could not remain away as I have something urgent I wish to tell you.'
'Then please feel free to speak, your grace, it must be something important to bring you here so early in the day.' She glanced pointedly at the clock which showed it was scarcely ten minutes past ten o'clock.
He refused to be rebuffed by her remark and stretched out his long, booted legs and folded his arms across his chest. This gesture drew her eyes to his torso and she could not help but notice that he was a fine figure of a man.
'Digby tells me the children have an uncle. What do you know about this fellow?'
'I know that my brother-in-law did have a younger sibling – they were estranged – I never met him and he was never spoken of.' A feeling of dread made her stomach lurch. 'Is this man coming to take the children away from us?'
Before she could protest he was beside her and took her hands in his. 'Don't look so stricken, sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about. I wish you and children to move to Hemingford Court – you should have been with me from the beginning. It was most remiss of me to have not taken you in when I first heard about your plight.'
Her head was spinning, but there was one thing she did understand. 'If we will be safe from this man then we will move immediately.'
'I don't think there's any need to come today, my dear, I wish to get the nursery floor refurbished and redecorated before you move in.'
'You're right, I am being silly. I have several loyal and able outside men and they can prevent anything untoward from occurring until we can transfer to the big house.' He was rather too close and his proximity was making her feel unsettled. 'Could I ask you to return to your seat please, your grace? It is not seemly for you to be where you are.'
To her relief he didn't argue, but regained his feet and took his earlier place. 'I expect the children are full of my visit last night and I must apologise for disrupting your household…' He paused and looked away. There was something else going on here, something she didn't quite understand.
'I expect you know how my parents and brother died. I was just falling asleep when I realised that I hadn't spoken to the doctor, that I hadn't seen him again after he left with you. I had visions of there having been a dreadful accident and of you all lying injured in a ditch somewhere.'
For a second her heart went out to him and she believed his explanation. Then she became aware his shoulders were shaking – he was laughing.
'You wretch; you almost had me believing your nonsense. The children think you must have been drunk and I think that a far more likely explanation.'
'Then shall we settle for that as a reason?'
'And will speak of it no more. When do you want us to remove to your home? I expect it will take at least a week to get the nursery floor ready for occupation.'
'As I intend to send a further half a dozen men to work on the much-needed repairs and renewals on this house, you will be well protected. I should like to see you tomorrow – why don't you and the children come and inspect what will be your future home?'
'Emma and Richard are hoping to see you today. There are two things I must ask you to do before they come down. The first is to not refer to this uncle who is looking for them, the second to desist from using endearments when you speak to me. It will give them the wrong impression.'
'I agree with the first and have no difficulty with that. However, sweetheart, I refer to you affectionately because I consider you as one of my young charges. The children will accept it as such and so must you.'
'In which case, your grace, I shall say no more on that subject either.' She bit her lip to try and hold back what she dearly wanted to say. All would have been well if he hadn't smiled in an irritating way. 'I cannot tell you what a relief it is to me, your grace, to be considered in the same way as the children. You are so much older than I am that I consider you as an older relative, as an uncle I suppose.'
His eyes darkened and he pushed himself out of his chair and was looming over her before she had time to protest. Her breath caught in her throat and her bodice became unaccountably tighter.
*
An uncle indeed! The way he felt about Lydia had nothing to do with being a relative and everything to do with being a lover. He was beside her without conscious thought and, as he watched, her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed becomingly.
He was about to show just how he thought of her when the children burst in and the moment was gone. He turned with a friendly smile and to his astonishment they threw themselves into his arms.
'We are so glad to see you, your grace, but didn't expect you until this afternoon.' Emma clung to his hand whilst Richard leaned his head trustingly against him. His arms moved of their own volition until he was embracing them both.
'Good morning, little ones, I'm delighted to see you. Shall we go outside and throw a stick for Benji and leave your aunt to rest?'
With his arms around their shoulders he gently pushed them in the direction of the exit; he turned as he reached the door. As he'd expected she was still staring at him. 'This discussion is not ended, we will resume it as soon as can be arranged. By the by, in future I shall be referring to you as Lydia and you may call me Hemingford.'
Richard tugged at his coat. 'We should like to call you uncle but don't know your given name.'
His sister nodded. 'Shall we address you as Uncle Hemingford?'
&n
bsp; 'No, I think not. Uncle Everett will do much better.'
He spent a happy half an hour playing with all four children as the nursemaids came to join them with the twins. He decided it wasn't his place to tell them they would be moving from the Dower House – he would leave Lydia to explain it to them.
On his return, he sought out Digby and the secretary. They were busy writing letters in their own domain. Both men resided at the Court – the secretary had a chamber somewhere upstairs and Digby a small apartment in the guest wing.
'No, don't get up, I have come with a suggestion. I should like you both to move to the Dower House when Miss Sinclair and the children come here. The house is in good shape and you will be far more comfortable there.'
'If you are quite sure, your grace, my nephew and I would be delighted to accept your kind offer.' Digby was on his feet and beaming.
Everett hadn't known the young man was Digby's nephew – he should have done. In future he would take more interest in his employees.
'I've not told the children, I'm leaving that to Miss Sinclair. However, they will be here sometime tomorrow to look around the house and I'm hoping once they see it they will be happy to move.'
'I should think they will, your grace. The Dower House is all very well, but to live at Hemingford Court will be an improvement.'
'From the racket coming from the nursery floor I take it the workmen are already busy up there.'
'Indeed they are, your grace, everything will be ready in a week. Presumably the nursemaids, governess and Miss Sinclair's personal maid, will accompany them. Are we to retain the remaining staff for our use?'
'Good God, man, you will need more than a few women and the housekeeper if you are to live comfortably. All household expenses are to be paid from my account – consider it part of your wages. I should think you should have a butler and at least one footman – you will also need two riding horses, and a team to pull a carriage. In fact, do whatever you like – it's your home now.'
The Reclusive Duke Page 13