The Reclusive Duke

by Fenella J Miller

  They both looked rather stunned by his largesse; he rather liked being able to improve the lot of the people that were close to him. 'You must choose your horses from my stables or stud.'

  He strolled away and for some strange reason everywhere he looked seemed brighter and more pleasing than it had done before. This was decidedly strange and one couldn't put this down to fresh paint or newly scrubbed floors. Then he understood. For the first time in his life he was happy.

  *

  Lydia decided to tell the older children why they were going to visit Hemingford. They were delighted at the prospect of moving in with their new best friend, their Uncle Everett as they were now to call him.

  'It will be much better there, we will have more room to run around,' Emma said as they stepped into the phaeton which had arrived to collect them.

  'You have more than enough room here, three times the space you have ever had before. However, I think the duke will be a good influence on you both. Sometimes I think I allow you too much leeway and a little more discipline will not go amiss.'

  For a moment the two children looked disconcerted, but then rallied. 'Uncle Everett is a capital fellow, he won't expect us to behave any differently,' Richard announced blithely.

  She exchanged an anxious glance with her friend. Viola and she had discussed the possibility that the children would have to behave differently when they were living under his roof. Although there was no danger he would use physical punishment, they might well discover they had to stick to more rules than they had previously been accustomed to.

  Travelling in this carriage with four children and three adults was somewhat overcrowded but the journey was mercifully short. She was sure they would not suffer unduly even though it was unpleasantly warm today. She had her walking sticks with her and had become an expert in their use.

  'I shall not accompany you around the house, children, Miss Carstairs will do so. I shall wait for you on the terrace.'

  She had expected the carriage to stop at the rear of the building but this time it bowled around to the front. Here they were met by the duke himself, plus a positive army of liveried retainers. So much splendour silenced the older children and even the twins were quiet.

  Then he bounded down the marble steps and snatched first Emma and then Richard from the carriage, swinging them around so they squealed with delight.

  'Us too, us too,' the twins yelled in chorus and he willingly obliged.

  'I think we had better descend immediately, Viola, in case his grace wishes to treat us in the same manner.' Lydia found getting out more difficult than it had been getting in and she was relieved to be on the ground before the duke could pick her up.

  He'd observed their rapid descent and laughed out loud. She could not prevent her heart skipping a beat. Whatever his faults, and they were legion, he really was a charming gentleman when he put his mind to it.

  The children did not seem to think it odd that she was introduced to the butler and the housekeeper and that they, and the other assembled servants, curtsied and bowed. However, her friend was smiling in a particular way which sent warning signals up and down Lydia's spine. The duke could have introduced her in this way because she was going to be a member of the household, almost a member of the family, but Viola obviously thought it indicated something else entirely. She shook her head in warning but her friend just smiled in a knowing manner.

  The children pronounced themselves delighted with what would be their new accommodation the following week and then asked permission to visit the maze.

  'You may go, children, as long as Miss Carstairs and the nursemaids are with you. Don't forget to take a flag in so you can wave if you become lost.'

  Richard put his hands on his hips and looked rather serious. 'I don't think that will be much good, Aunt Lydia, as there's nobody around who knows the way out.'

  'Benji does, make sure you have him with you.'

  Viola turned as if going to say something but she forestalled her. 'Not a word from you, Miss Carstairs. I'm finding everything decidedly confusing this morning and don't require any comments from you on the subject.'

  The children trooped off accompanied by their carers leaving her at the mercy of her host. He pounced as soon as she was alone. 'Come with me, if you please Miss Sinclair, there is something most particular I wish to speak to about.' He gestured towards her sticks. 'I have my bath chair you can use if you would prefer.'

  'No thank you, as you can see I am perfectly capable of making my own way with the help of these sticks.'

  Reluctantly she allowed herself to be guided along a wide passageway and into what could only be his private sanctum, his study. She was about to tell him to leave the door open when she heard it click closed behind her.

  'I'm not going to ravish you, my love, so don't look so terrified. I merely want to speak to you without anyone overhearing what I have to say.'

  Hearing her wild thoughts put into words was enough to release the tension. 'I do not trust you to behave yourself, your grace…'

  His eyes flashed a warning. 'I believe I told you to call me Hemingford in future.'

  She smiled sweetly. 'I believe you did, but I prefer to call you Uncle Everett as the children do. More appropriate considering the age difference, don't you think?'

  This had been a remarkably foolish thing to say as his eyes took on a predatory gleam and he closed the distance between them in two long strides.

  Her heart was pounding so loudly she was surprised he couldn't hear it. He was no more than a hand's breadth from her. His heat was pulsing from him. Her hands became slippery and she lost her grip on the handles of her canes. Inadvertently she put her weight on her bad leg which gave way, and she began to crumple.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Everett caught her as she fell. He cursed himself for frightening her and almost causing her to have another accident.

  'Here, let me carry you to a seat.' She weighed less than he expected for a young woman of her height and build. He placed her tenderly on the sofa then stepped away so she did not feel threatened.

  'Thank you, Hemingford, I am not as steady as I thought.'

  He took a seat several yards from her before replying. 'I intend to make you my wife, Lydia, I suggest you become accustomed to the idea.'

  He thought she might go pale, shake her head, cry out, but she did something else entirely. She laughed at him.

  'My word, that must be the most unromantic proposal any young lady has ever received. My response, Hemingford, is no. You must become accustomed to not always having your own way. I told you when we first met that I have no wish to marry you or anyone else and I still hold to that opinion.'

  'Your opinion is irrelevant, sweetheart, Hemingford men always get their own way in the end. I shall not coerce you, but I promise you once you are under my roof you will change your mind. I know you have feelings for me…'

  She raised a hand. 'I desire you, that is true, but that is quite different from wishing to have you as a husband. I know I would become a duchess, want for nothing, but those things are of no matter to me. If ever I do give up my independence it will be to a man I am in love with. I might be an innocent, but I know the difference between lust and love, even if you don't.'

  He was shocked by her comment. His knowledge of young ladies was not wide but he was sure a well-brought-up girl would never have dared to say such a thing.

  'Admit it, Hemingford, you no more love me than I do you. Your senses are engaged for the first time in many years and you're feeling like a red-blooded gentleman. Might I suggest that you get yourself a mistress? That would be so much easier for both of us.'

  He had heard quite enough of this unsuitable conversation. 'You are impertinent, miss, and would do better to hold your tongue.' He saw a look of what could only be triumph flit across her face. The lump, that had unaccountably wedged in his chest at her appalling conversation, vanished. The girl had deliberately provoked him in the only way she knew in or
der to get him to retract his proposal.

  'Why would I wish to dine elsewhere when I have plenty to eat at home?' For a moment she looked puzzled at his analogy but then her cheeks turned scarlet as she got his meaning.

  'I will not be your wife and neither will I be your mistress, sir. The children may reside with you but I shall remain where I am.'

  'I'm afraid that will not be possible, my dear, as Mr Digby and his nephew will be moving into the Dower House next week. You have no option but to come here or be homeless.'

  Her head dropped and he felt a brute for being so harsh. It had been a long time since he had spoken to a young lady and he had never come close to proposing. He had a lot of fences to mend before she could forgive his clumsy offer – but he was determined to woo her over the next few weeks until she was as irrevocably in love with him as he was with her.

  He had no intention of burdening her with his feeling until he was sure she reciprocated them. If after a month or two she was still adamant she would not have him, then he would have to let her go. He would never force her into a union with him however much he would like to do so.

  'Lydia, sweetheart, shall we pretend this conversation never took place? Forget what I said about marriage, I will not bother you with the subject until you are ready to hear it.'

  She raised her head and he was horrified to see tears glinting in her eyes. 'I thank you, but what has been said can never be forgotten. I think it might be better if I lived elsewhere. The Dower House is more than big enough to accommodate Mr Digby, his nephew and myself. Now he is like an uncle to me, I'm sure we will deal famously together.'

  Now was not the time to force the issue. 'If that's what you want, then so be it. Do you wish me to speak to him or will you do that yourself?'

  'Perhaps you would be kind enough to ask him to come and see me here? I believe that our conversation is over. I'm sure the children would be delighted to see you outside at the maze.' He bit back a sharp retort. He was not accustomed to being dismissed from his own house in such a cavalier fashion. He stood, nodded, and strode out without replying. She could stew for a bit, and not know whether he had actually conveyed her message or not.

  He was waylaid by one of the nursemaids who requested that he go and retrieve the children from the centre of the maze. The wretched dog had led them in and then vanished leaving them marooned in there. When eventually everyone had been collected he had completely forgotten he had been asked to fetch Digby.

  *

  Lydia waited for half an hour and then decided that Mr Digby wasn't available, or Hemingford hadn't bothered to convey her message. There was little point in sitting here on her own in his study, she could either join the children in the garden or ask for the carriage to be brought round and she would return in solitary splendour.

  She decided on the latter; the phaeton was waiting at the side of house, where she had instructed it to be, when she hopped out.

  'Please take me home, then come back immediately to collect the children, Miss Carstairs and the nursemaid.'

  As the distance increased between her and her tormentor she began to feel more sanguine, to believe that matters might work out eventually. She was certain if she continued to refuse him he would eventually give up and find himself someone more amenable. She didn't consider herself an unsuitable bride for a duke, after all she was the granddaughter of an earl, and although impoverished, she was well-educated and passably pretty.

  She might feel differently about his casual proposal if he had said he was head over heels in love with her. Being married because the gentleman wished to share her bed was not a good start to any union, in her opinion. If the couple did not have love to bind them what would happen when the passion faded? They would both be left in a union that was unsatisfactory.

  If she was to separate herself from the children in order to keep away from him then she could not rely on his financial support. This made it imperative she found herself a publisher who would actually pay her for her work.

  The second novel was already two chapters long and she intended to take this with her as well. If she could show that she was a serious writer who would produce an annual book then she was certain she was more likely to get a favourable outcome.

  When she was home she went straight to the study and wrote four letters – one to each of the publishers she had selected as a possible recipient of her opus. She folded, sealed and addressed each missive and then rang the bell.

  'I wish to have these taken to the village and put on the mail coach. One of the grooms can do this and they can ride the little mare or the cob.' The maid curtsied and took the folded squares and the necessary coins to pay for their delivery.

  Satisfied she had set things in motion, Lydia returned to her apartment. Travelling on her bottom was slow and undignified but meant she could safely negotiate the stairs in either direction.

  She had indicated in the letters that she would be in London by the end of the week. Doctor Adams had said her ankle should be mended in a day or two and she hoped that was the case. She had no wish to hobble about the streets like an old lady. This would hardly give a good impression to any gentleman she hoped to persuade to publish her book, and to pay her a reasonable recompense for so doing.

  Beth would have to be taken into her confidence as she could not go alone to Town. Even with a maid at her side she was still bending the rules; but as she had no wish to conform, and cared little if her reputation was damaged, she would do as she pleased.

  'Will we be staying overnight, miss? I'd dearly love to see some of the sights as I've not been to London in my life.'

  'I had not intended to, Beth, but I see no reason why we shouldn't. There are some perfectly respectable places we could stay at. I intend to travel on the first coach in the morning, and complete my business by mid-afternoon. This would leave us the remainder of the day and the following morning to see the sights. I'm sure you understand that I have no wish for anyone else to know where we're going.' Her maid nodded.

  'As you only have one copy of your book, miss, how can you show it to all four gentlemen?'

  'I intend to give them the first two chapters of my next novel – I have already copied out those chapters four times. Then, I shall leave them to read it for half an hour and return for their answer.

  'I'm hoping that the first person I speak to will be so pleased with what he has read that he will offer me a contract immediately. However, I doubt that will be the case and I might well have to visit all four gentlemen before I find a home for my book. That is why it might take me most of the day.'

  She had decided against informing her friend of her intentions as she was certain Viola would try and stop her. Although they had talked about Lydia's aspirations to be a novelist, she didn't think this had been taken seriously.

  The older children had exchanged their morning schoolwork in order to go on the excursion so when they returned they had to go straight upstairs to get on with their studies. This meant that their governess was also occupied, which suited Lydia perfectly.

  They did not meet again until the children were getting ready for bed and Lydia had come to tell them a bedtime story. 'I'm going to eat in my sitting room, Viola, I have been up and down stairs more than enough times today.'

  'Shall I join you?'

  'If you don't mind, I shall retire early so it might be better if you dine in your own sitting room tonight. We can catch up with your news tomorrow morning.'

  The next two days passed uneventfully and Lydia was relieved that her friend had only wished to discuss how things would be managed when they moved the following week. There had been no mention of Hemingford at all. Of course, no one else knew about the proposal or that they had parted on bad terms, so there was only the matter of their unusual welcome. This Lydia was able to dismiss as nothing untoward and the subject was closed.

  On the day of her trip to Town she and Beth were up with the lark and crept out of the house like burglars at first l
ight. The groom, who had also been sworn to secrecy, was waiting with the pony cart to transport them to the village.

  'I do not require you to return today, Bertie, I shall send word to the house when I need to be collected. Make sure you mention nothing about my trip. I've no wish to be the subject of gossip amongst the staff.' She gave the young man a silver coin and he was well satisfied with the exchange.

  She had written a note to Viola explaining why she had gone, that she would be staying overnight and expected to return late the following day. No doubt her friend would think of something suitable to tell the children – there was no need for Hemingford to know anything about it.

  The duke had not visited himself, but there were now several extra outside men busy in the garden. Mr Digby had also been absent so she had not yet had the opportunity to inform him she intended to remain where she was and that he would not have the house to himself after all.

  The coach arrived on time, there was no time for the passengers already on board to get out, and barely time for her and her maid to get in, before the horses were changed and the vehicle was on the move again. She had her precious manuscript in a brown paper parcel on her lap and Beth had their overnight things in a valise.

  Having got up so early they'd not had time to break their fast and were pleased to be able to disembark at the next stop and find some refreshments. When she dipped into her reticule for the necessary coins to pay for this she saw to her horror the note she had written for Viola was still contained therein. She had forgotten to leave it on the breakfast table as she had intended.

  *

  Everett had been shocked, but not surprised when he had discovered Lydia had gone home. He had behaved badly, but he would allow her a day or two to recover her temper before he attempted to put things right. He did, however, remember to tell Digby about the new arrangements.

  'I shall be delighted to have Miss Sinclair living with me, your grace. I think it an excellent notion – a young lady cannot be too careful about her reputation.'