by Gill, Tamara
He glanced about to ensure they were not within hearing of nearby guests. “Not my finest hour, but I have been sleeping with a woman this past year. No-one knows, and I’m sure she took other lovers during that time, but if I want any sort of future with Miss. Knight, I had to be honest with her. I just came from her home here in Mayfair.”
“Did she take the news well?”
Better than Tate had thought she would, but then they both had always been honest and Lady Clapham had said many times that she did not want to marry again. “She did. In fact, she was hardly bothered at all.” A lucky escape if Tate was being honest with himself. Lady Clapham was a complex woman and one never knew which way she could twist.
He sighed. “Even tying up all my loose ends may serve me very little. I’m no longer certain that Miss. Knight will have me. After finding out the truth, she remained distant.” Tate ran a hand through his hair, unsure what Ava felt. “It did not seem like she was sure any longer what she wanted in life, whether she wanted me or not.”
“How so?” Scott asked.
“I've come to think she no longer wishes for that institution to be part of her life. She is so very independent, runs her racing estate with expert precision, is thorough and fair, and is beholden to no-one. Becoming a duchess brings with it new responsibilities and pressure, and I'm not sure she has room for that in her life.” There was a time when she’d not wanted anything else but to be his wife. But time had a way of forcing people into situations that they might not have thought of before and being separated for so long…Tate wasn’t so sure Ava cared for him any more than as a friend.
“You must speak with her and see. Maybe she will surprise you and have room for you and your hefty title. Yes, you are a duke, a man with multiple estates and people depending on you, but Miss. Knight was willing to be mistress of all that before your parents became involved. If she loves you, and there is always a chance that two people destined for each other can make their way back to be with one another, she will make room for you in her life as well.”
Tate grinned at his friend. “You’ve become a romantic since meeting Rosa.”
Scott laughed. “That, I have, and I’m proud of it too. But you’ll see I’m right. If you’re patient and as you once were with Miss. Knight, there is no reason why she would not fall in love with you again.”
If only that were so and he would hope for such a thing. Once he returned to Berkshire, slowly and with caution, he would try to ease his way back into her affections. It wouldn't be easy, even if they were on friendly terms once more. A lot could happen in five years, people changed and so did their goals and their dreams.
His certainly had. After idling his time in London over the past two years, rumor reached him that the thoroughbred Titan would be sent to Tattersalls for sale, and his disregarded dream of owning and running his own horse racing and breeding program burst back to life. He’d returned to Berkshire, even with the knowledge that Ava was only three miles from him, but he had wanted to fight for what he’d once imagined doing. Not being just a duke, but a man with interests, a profession that he not only enjoyed, but loved.
He drank down the last of his champagne. He would succeed in winning her, he would succeed in joining their estates and making all their dreams come to fruition. “You make excellent points, Lord Brandon.”
“Well, if Miss. Knight is your future, then yes, the past must be dealt with and moved on from. I’m happy for you and I wish you well with your lady. I remember how broken you were. You may disagree with me, and I can see from your face that you do,” Scott said, chuckling. “But when you speak of this Miss. Knight, you shine. She is a light for you, bright and true. I hope you’re able to win back her love.”
Tate smiled, clasping his friend on the shoulder. “Thank you. I shall take your good wishes and hope for the best as well. A lot has happened in the past five years, it may take some time for us to find our way back to each other, but I’m determined.”
“I hope you do, and be sure to bring Miss. Knight to my wedding if you’re successful. Rosa would love to meet her, I’m sure.”
“That my friend is something I shall promise you,” Tate said, hoping that in turn he would soon be able to invite Lord Brandon to his wedding also.
* * *
Tate sat at the breakfast table the following morning, thankfully alone. The smell of hot brewing coffee permeated the air, the Times was freshly pressed and his breakfast of bacon, poached eggs and sliced ham sat before him. He leaned back in his chair, enjoying this quiet time, eating breakfast in solitude.
The door to the room opened and in bundled his mother. He folded his paper, sighing at his moment of peace would now be short-lived. “Good morning, Mother,” he said, picking up his knife and fork.
His mother sat herself at the table, asking a nearby footman to serve her tea and her usual breakfast of toast and butter. “I did not know you were coming back to London, my dear. What has brought you to town, since I’m soon to join you at Cleremore.”
“I had business in town.” At his curt answer, she merely raised her brow and turned back to her meal.
Tate ate for a moment, thinking over all that he wanted to say to her. Fighting to remain calm and not lose his temper. “Did you enjoy your evening last night? How many balls would that make this year? Three?”
His mother threw him a sweet smile. “It was, in fact. How wonderful you’re keeping tabs on my parties. And I’m glad you arrived in time for last night’s entertainment, since you disappeared before the Season and have not returned these past ten months!”
“I think that is an exaggeration. I have been to town sporadically for different matters pertaining to the estates.”
“Do not vex me, boy, for I am very annoyed. How can you leave London when so many eligible, wealthy women are here for the taking? All ready to dip a curtsy and marry a duke. Might I remind you of Lady Clapham who is more than eligible, a widow who seems to enjoy your company, or so I hear. But no, you run off to Berkshire and your silly horse hobby never to return. I despair of you.”
Tate would’ve loved nothing more than to tell his dearest Mother that Berkshire too hailed some very sweet and perfectly acceptable women who could be his bride. Well, one in particular.
“I need to be in Berkshire as I’ve recently acquired one of England’s most treasured racehorse. And if it has not missed your attention, you do remember me writing to you regarding the stables. You know,” he said, gaining her attention, “the ones that burned down.”
She waved his statement away. “I do remember you mentioning both those things, but I fail to see how this is so important enough to keep you from town.” She paused, taking a sip of coffee. “How are the stables coming along?”
“They are being rebuilt as we speak, and they didn’t simply burn down, as I said in my letter, I believe the fire was started deliberately. I have hired a Bow Street Runner to investigate, but be sure not to repeat that. I do not want anyone to know I harbor suspicions.”
“Very well,” she sighed, picking up a piece of toast. “I will not say a word.”
“Good, which brings me to another matter for which I’m in town, and that concerns you.”
His mother placed down her toast, complaining it was cold. A servant picked up the plate and took it away before his parent bothered to look in his direction. “Really. What is it you wanted of me?”
Tate placed down his cup of coffee. He wanted to see her face when he confronted her with this truth. “Why did you fabricate the letter that Miss. Knight supposedly sent me all those years ago? Allowed me to believe that her affections were false, that she wished for a different way of life? That she did not want me?”
His mother’s eyes went wide before her face paled to an awful shade of gray. In that moment, Tate knew without any doubt she had been behind the calculated way of separating them. He had hoped that possibly it was not true, but that did not seem the case.
“I don't know what
you're talking about,” she said fussing with a napkin. “Now let me eat my breakfast in peace. I have a busy day, many calls to make all afternoon.”
He ground his teeth, better that than yell at his mother before all the staff. “You have plenty of time for your calls, I want to talk about your underhanded, cruel scheme.”
His mother seemed to accept her defeat in this regard, lifted her chin, her lips pursed in a tight line. “Yes I wrote it and I would do it again. Your father and I thought it was best considering both your young ages. You had not even had your first Season and you were thinking of marrying a girl who had no rank, no nobility. A horse trainer’s daughter, of all things.” His mother shrill voice lifted at her last point and he cringed as pain coursed through his temples. “I spoke to Miss. Knight’s father and he was in agreement, after we explained how we would never countenance such a union and his daughter would be ruined by being cut by society.”
He shook his head. His mother’s cruelty had no bounds. So she’d even brought Mr. Knight into her scheme by threatening his only daughter’s reputation. “Miss. Knight was more than a horse trainer’s daughter to me. I never cared about rank, money, the title in the way you have. Miss. Knight may have had humble beginnings, but she is equal to me in every way.”
“Pfft,” his mother spat. “She is not suitable for a duke’s wife, nor will she ever be.”
He took a calming breath. “You had no right to interfere in the way you did. Are you not ashamed to have played such a cruel trick on your son or the people who have been our neighbors for years now?”
“Mr. Knight, need I remind you, Tate, was also in agreement.”
“You convinced the man he was, by threatening Ava.”
“Do not tell me that you have offered for her hand yet again,” she sneered. “I will never forgive you if you have.”
“Not that it is any of your business, but no, I have not. At this time Miss. Knight is no more than our neighbor and a woman who is housing all my horses after the fire. Even though there is no discussion of me and Ava being anything more than what we are now, it does not excuse what you did to us both. How could you do that to your own son? You knew how much I cared for her.”
She shook her head, dismissing his words. “A childhood folly that would have ruined your life. You wish for me to be sorry at stopping such a union. Well,” she paused, throwing her napkin on the table. “I will not and never shall.”
“For years, you sent me away to a country that was not my own, all to keep me away from her. You could’ve been honest.” Not that it would’ve changed his mind about Ava as his wife. Even now to the very core of Tate’s soul, he knew that she was the right woman for him.
“My family treated you well in New York. They lavished you with everything a young titled man of great wealth wanted at his feet. Women, parties, social events mingling with the best my country had to offer. Do not say to me that your life has been so unhappy and despondent when it has not. Do you think I did not hear the goings on about London regarding you, when you first returned? Of the many lovers, the gambling and so on. Do not be so quick to judge when I could’ve judged you two years ago upon your return.”
How could she be so blind? Yes, he had enjoyed America, but that was only because he was forced to stay and could not leave. He had thought the woman he loved did not love him. “I will not forgive you for such duplicity.”
“I suppose you’re going to tell me that your interest in Berkshire these past months has nothing to do with Miss. Knight being home from France. Please tell me that you’ve not taken up where you left off with that little nobody.”
Tate fisted his hands on the table, his breakfast forgotten. “How dare you call her that? Do not ever,” he said, making his mother start, “call her that again. “Her name is Miss. Ava Knight, and hear this, Mother. No matter what happens between me and Ava, know that I will not put up with your meddling. What I choose to do with my life or whom I select to be my bride is my choice. As head of the family if I wanted to marry a doxie from Soho I will.” Tate stood, having had enough of this conversation.
“Do not threaten me. I’m still your mother and do not forget that I can make your life in Society easy or hard. Miss. Knight hails from the lineage of servants. People who worked as our tenant farmers prior to purchasing a horse and racing it. Pure luck that it paid off for them and while I’m very happy they could drag themselves away from a life of servitude, that does not make her equal to the task of being a duchess.”
He'd always thought his mother’s light blue eyes pretty, but right at this moment they were cold and without an ounce of feeling.
“If you marry Miss. Knight, make her the Duchess of Whitstone will be the laughing stock of the ton. I did not marry into nobility, sacrifice my life in my own country to live in England, just to watch my son marry a woman who would bring nothing but shame and a few mares to the marriage.”
Tate clasped the table, leaning toward his mother. “Do not speak to me or about Ava in such a way again, mother. I’m warning you,” he sneered. “I am the Duke of Whitstone and whomever I marry will be accepted by Society because if they do not, as a duke, they would rue the day they slighted her. That warning includes you too. If you wish to have anything to do with my future, you will not meddle in whom I choose as my bride.”
His mother pushed back her chair. “There are many who are more suited as the future Duchess of Whitstone,” she said, her voice shaking. “If you only gave them the opportunity, you would see that there are many who would be perfect for you. You must see that Miss. Knight is not for you. She may satisfy some honor code that you think you’re breaking by stepping away from the union, but it will not last forever. With people with backgrounds such as hers, there are always hidden skeletons that the ton is salivating to find out. It will be only a matter of time before her family and something that they have hidden in their past will come to light and ruin you. Ruin my future grandchildren’s prospects.”
“You talk rubbish.”
“Do I?” she said. “Think of your male heir, away at Eaton or Harrow. The bullying your children will suffer when they find out their mother bred horses. That the boy’s grandparents were once tenant farmers. That, in itself, will be hard enough to bear, let alone some other scandal we do not know about yet.”
He shook his head, not willing to listen any further. He strode to the door and then paused. “You’re hysterical and I suggest you calm down. Heed my warning, Mother. I will banish you to the castle in Ireland if you do not obey and do as I want. You are no longer head of the family. Do not ever cross the line that will make me act upon my threat.”
His mother glared at him, the little lace cap atop her head shaking with her temper.
“If you cared about the dukedom so very much, you would’ve come home when you heard about the fire. But instead, what do we find, merely more parties and balls for you to host. At least, Miss. Knight cared enough to fight the fire alongside of me that night. Where were you, I wonder? Drinking champagne and enjoying the company you only believe are of value to you. It would not occur to you to think of others, but Miss. Knight does and that it why she will always be suitable as my wife. There is not a selfish bone in her body.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about or what you need. Just like your father. Easy to lead astray.”
“I will be returning to Berkshire in a few days. I think it is best that once you’ve finished the little season that you re-locate yourself to one of the other properties other than Cleremore Hall.”
“You would throw out your mother for a nobody?”
Tate glanced at his parent, disgusted by her words. “Because of your actions, of sending me away to America, I missed saying goodbye to my father. You allowed me to blame an innocent woman for that instead. Miss. Knight may be a nobody to you, but she is everything to me. And always has been. No matter how many years you took to try and change that fact, it will never change.” He left her staring after
him and headed for the door. After such a confrontation, Whites sounded perfect right about now. Anything would be better than here.
Chapter 8
A few days later Ava looked up from the chair she sat in on the terrace when she heard the sound of wheels on the gravel drive. She shaded her eyes against the sun low on the horizon, and shutting the book she was reading, she tried to make out who was paying her a visit.
As the carriage came into view on her drive, she stood and started for the front of the house, her curiosity getting the better of her. The black equipage was covered in dust from its many miles of travel, and there was a range of traveling chests atop the vehicle. Her heart leapt with joy and she started to run when she recognized the dark head of curls peeking out the carriage window.
She waved. “Hallie, is that you?” Ava laughed, beyond happy to see her friend. Hallie had been one of the first girls to have befriended her at school in France. Her no-nonsense manner and outspokenness had redeemed her in Ava’s eyes and she loved that she was so bold, so opinionated. Not that looking at her you would guess such a thing. She was all delicate softness at a glance. Her dark locks, with a natural curl, were the envy of all their friends and her fierce green eyes echoed intelligence far beyond Ava’s comprehension. Hallie was simply an English rose, but one who loved far harsher climes than any such plant could tolerate.
“Ava,” Hallie shouted back before opening the door and jumping down without assistance. Her dearest friend ran and pulled her into a fierce hug, one which Ava reciprocated. She’d not seen her friend in a year, and to have her here and now and in Berkshire was a dream.
“Hallie,” she said, hugging her tightly. “Oh, I’m so happy to see you.” Tears pooled in her eyes and drawing back, she noted her friend’s eyes were too a little watery.