The Duke's Daring Debutante (Regency Historical Romance)

by Ann Lethbridge

  She glared at him. ‘Try it, if you are in the mood to lose a hand.’

  Dammit, she’d apologised. What that hell was wrong with him that he couldn’t let it go when she’d come to no harm? But he couldn’t. The past remained too close to the surface. An unhealed wound. ‘The gate is over there.’ He pointed with his whip.

  They once more moved off in silence, but it was no longer friendly and comfortable.

  ‘You were limping. Are you injured?’ she asked stiffly.

  ‘No.’

  Her lovely mouth twisted. ‘Perhaps I should look to make sure.’

  His blood turned to ice. Just the thought of her seeing... ‘I did no more than wrench my ankle.’ An ankle that did not like rough treatment at the best of times.

  She looked away but not before he caught the tremble of her lower lip. A sniff. Was she crying?

  ‘Minette?’ Something inside him twisted painfully.

  She turned back to face him, her eyes suspiciously moist. ‘Why does it seem that you bring out only the worst in me?’

  It was like a blow to his gut, those words. His mother had always said he brought out the worst in his brother, too. He closed himself off from the stab of pain. ‘I beg your pardon if my presence troubles you. I shall be more than happy to return you to Falconwood.’

  She stared at him. ‘You will not be rid of me so easily, Your Grace.’ She lifted her chin. ‘Are we near the farm we seek?’

  Damn it all, she was back to Your Gracing him. ‘Beyond the next field.’

  ‘Are their further dangers I should be aware of?’

  A curse caught in his throat. Pain pierced his chest. She was making it sound as if her near accident had been his fault. His gut fell away. She was right. It would have been. He should have warned her about the lie of the land. Had he been with another male, he would have done so the moment they entered the field. ‘Nothing I am aware of.’ He sounded as stiff and cold as she did, when he should be feeling glad no mishap had occurred. After a small pause, as if she expected him to say more, she turned her horse and set off at a brisk trot.

  It seemed their brief hours of truce were over.

  Chapter Twelve

  Why could he not have simply accepted her apology instead of scowling and looking grim?

  Did he think she did not care that she could have badly injured his horse?

  The blood in her veins seethed with her anger at his injustice, as well as her embarrassment at her temper.

  When they reached the gate she waited in frigid silence while he let them both through and closed it behind them.

  He came up alongside her. ‘I apologise for my rudeness. I feared for your safety.’

  While his face remained grim, his tone was sincere. The hurt inside her subsided. ‘Apology accepted. I had no wish to cause you concern, but I can assure you I have survived more than one tumble.’

  The muscle in his jaw flexed. ‘Not every fall is survivable.’

  It was then that she remembered his brother. The reason for his unreasonable fury was suddenly clear. Not that she was about to let him wrap her in cotton wool but she should not have been quite so angry.

  ‘I beg your pardon for striking out at you.’

  His lips twitched at the corners. ‘Likely I would have done the same if someone took control of my horse.’

  She smiled at him. ‘It seems we are both endlessly sorry. Shall we put it out of our minds?’

  He nodded. ‘The Pearson farmhouse is over that hill. We will enter the lane up ahead and come at it from the road.’

  ‘In case anyone is lurking about.’

  A small smile curved his lips. ‘Exactly.’

  The distance to the farmhouse took no more than a few minutes to cover. It was a thatched house washed white and gleaming in the sun. Several outbuildings ranged behind the house. No animals. No sign of inhabitation.

  And yet...the place did not feel deserted. ‘Someone is here.’

  A surprised glance shot her way. ‘I was thinking the same thing.’

  ‘D’accord. What do we do? Pretend to notice nothing amiss and knock on the door?’

  ‘I’m not out to invite trouble.’ He raised his arm and pointed to the buildings and the house as if telling her something about them. ‘I wish we could get closer.’

  ‘Moreau would know me in an instant.’

  ‘And you could tell me if he actually had chosen this place in which to hide.’

  ‘Damned if we do—’

  ‘And if we don’t,’ he finished. At that moment the door to the house opened and a grey-haired man stepped out.

  ‘Hello?’ he called out. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘Not Moreau,’ Minette confirmed over the pounding of her heart. It was already slowing now that she knew he was not the man they sought.’

  ‘Will you please leave the talking to me?’ Freddy asked as they started closer.

  How could she say no when he asked so nicely? ‘As you wish.’

  He cocked a brow, but there was definitely a hint of a smile curving his lovely mouth. Perhaps she was truly forgiven.

  The man strode into the courtyard and they brought their horses to a halt beside him.

  ‘Good day,’ Freddy said. ‘Falconwood.’

  He didn’t introduce Minette. The man looked like some sort of well-to-do tradesman.

  ‘Pocock,’ he said.

  ‘Ah,’ Freddy replied. ‘The solicitor.’ He looked about him. ‘I didn’t realise you were here, since there is no visible transport. I heard the place was available for lease.’

  ‘Yes,’ Pocock said, squinting against the sun as he looked up. ‘My man went off to the village in the gig to arrange for a cleaning woman to go in once a week, to make sure the place is clean and to check on the place.’

  ‘No tenant in the offing?’ Freddy said.

  Pocock shook his head.

  Minette wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or sorry. The thought of Moreau taking residence so close to where she was living was nerve-racking, but it would have meant they knew where he was.

  ‘I’m surprised you didn’t take up the lease, Your Grace, it butting up on your land,’ Pocock said. ‘The house is barely habitable, but it might do for a labourer.’

  Freddy looked thoughtful. ‘I’ll do it. Send the papers to my steward.’

  Pocock’s jaw dropped. ‘I was told Falconwood didn’t need more land.’

  ‘I’ve changed my mind.’ He touched his crop to his hat. ‘Send the papers along to my steward at your earliest convenience.’ He turned back. ‘Oh, and if anyone else enquires about leasing the property, anyone at all, would you let me know?’

  ‘Certainly, Your Grace.’

  Freddy said nothing until they were well out of earshot. ‘Old Pearson would have been pleased.’

  ‘It is kind of you,’ she said. ‘But do you really need more land?’

  ‘Need, no. But having a legitimate interest in the place will make it easier to make sure no one moves in that I haven’t vetted personally.’ He pointed to a nearby copse. ‘From just beyond those trees there is a good view of Falconwood’s park. I will have Barker set up a command post there so we are not taken by surprise.’

  He was actually telling her his plan. She couldn’t help it, she smiled at him and, while he didn’t blink the way Granby did, his eyes widened a fraction, a response that warmed her in ways it should not. ‘Unfortunately it brings us no closer to finding where Moreau is at this moment.’

  His expression darkened. ‘No. It seems we are going to have to let him come to us. But with my men here we should have advance notice of any strangers in the vicinity.’

  ‘And there’s always Mrs Farmer.’

  A smile appeared on his face and he looked like th
e mischievous boy Mrs Farmer had spoken of. It was enchanting. It touched a place inside her that was far too vulnerable for her liking. But it did seem as if they were on friendly terms again and for that she could only be glad.

  And that feeling of gladness was a worry.

  Because, in the end, she was going to disappoint him terribly.

  * * *

  While Minette discussed flower arrangements with his mother, Freddy closeted himself in his steward’s office. The man seemed overly grateful and a little fearful. It didn’t take Freddy long to understand why. His mother had been assiduous in her duties. Running the estate the way his father had. Everything done logically but without an iota of humanity. An unpaid lease resulted in an immediate eviction. An innovation resulted in a reduction of farm labourers. The pattern that emerged was troubling. All of those gone from his land were people he’d thought of as friends. People who’d believed him when he’d said the death of his brother had been a terrible accident.

  In particular, his old friend Jake, the under-gamekeeper’s son, who had started them off. He looked up from the ledgers. ‘Where did Jake’s family go?’

  The man looked uncomfortable. ‘North. To look for work. The factories are always hiring.’

  ‘Jake was in line for the position of head groom.’ No one knew horses like Jake. Nausea pushed up into his throat. He should have known about this. Stopped it. ‘Do you have a forwarding address?’

  ‘No, Your Grace.’

  ‘And the Biggses?’

  Bill Biggs had been at the bridge, cheering them on like a madman. His father had been a labourer on Falconwood lands, as had his father before him.

  ‘Her Grace decided to pull their cottage down. It was in sight of the folly. A bit of an eyesore, you understand.’

  That was what had been missing from the view when he and Minette had walked around the lake. ‘Locate them.’

  ‘Yes, Your Grace.’

  He leaned back in his chair with a sigh. ‘How many more?’

  ‘The Clappers and the Webbs. They missed a payment on their leases because of a bad harvest.’

  ‘Try to find them also. Webb had a widowed sister.’

  The steward shook his head. ‘She died two years ago.’

  He cursed softly. ‘Not because of us?’

  ‘No.’ The man’s tone of voice dismissed any such notion, to Freddy’s relief. ‘A bad cold. Went to her lungs. Your mother did all that was proper. Fuel for her fire. The doctor.’

  Thank God she’d had that much heart. Clearly, he could no longer leave the management of the estate to Mother. He hadn’t worried about it because the income was always as expected. But money wasn’t everything. A landowner looked after his people. And a man took care of his friends.

  The butler rapped on the door and came in. ‘Her Grace sends her compliments. The ladies are taking tea in the green drawing room.’

  The drawing room wasn’t the place to discuss these particular issues with his mother, so he would still his tongue for now and enjoy Minette’s company. He looked at his steward. ‘Let me know as soon as you have located any of our people.’ He gave the man a sharp stare. ‘Me, you understand. No one else.’

  The steward touched his forelock. ‘It will be my pleasure.’

  The sincerity in the man’s eyes was genuine. The steward was clearly glad Freddy was taking up his affairs in person. No doubt he thought he’d left it a bit late.

  Damn him. He was right.

  When he wandered into the green drawing room, one of the least friendly rooms in the house, he found the two ladies sitting in what he could only describe as a strained silence. If Mother would only unbend to Minette a little, make her feel welcome, he would be able to forgive her anything. The realisation came as a surprise he did not want to examine too closely.

  ‘How are the plans for the ball coming along?’ he asked, sitting beside Minette on the sofa opposite his mother, who was presiding over the most formal tea set they owned. Likely using it as a means of intimidation. Something she had off to a fine art.

  ‘I had a long discussion with Mr Jevens.’ Minette picked up a portfolio bound with a green ribbon and opened it. ‘I made some sketches of the ballroom and the terrace with some ideas for how we might utilise the flowers from the greenhouses.’

  His mother looked down her nose. ‘As I said earlier, Miss Rideau, I will look at your proposals and discuss them with the staff when I have a moment.’

  In other words, Minette’s ideas were not worth her time. Freddy looked through the drawings. The sketches of the rooms were excellent, giving the proportions and proper perspectives, but the ideas for the arrangement of the vegetation was extraordinary. ‘You have brought the outdoors inside.’ He looked closer. ‘These are orange trees.’

  ‘Jevens said that if he is careful he can have them all in full bloom. The room will be filled with their perfume. He believes the trellises will not be too difficult to construct with some help from some of the men from the estate, and they will be perfect for the roses.’

  ‘What of the flower beds?’ Mother said. ‘They will take years to recover if you strip them of blooms.’

  ‘Jevens assured me that would not be the case,’ Minette said. ‘Indeed, he was saying that so few of the roses have been picked these past many years that they will benefit from a little thinning.’

  ‘The Duke did not like flowers inside the house,’ Her Grace said. ‘He said they made him sneeze. I do not want my guests walking about sniffling. And this idea of yours of setting up the dancing on the terrace will not work. What if it rains?’

  ‘Then we will move the dancing indoors,’ Freddy said.

  ‘Why have it outdoors at all?’

  ‘It will be a full moon,’ Minette said. ‘It will be romantic. According to my sister, our mother often arranged al fresco parties.’

  ‘That is France,’ Mother said in a quelling tone. ‘This is England.’

  He could see that Minette was frustrated by his mother’s intractability, but he was proud of the way she had made her case so reasonably. She would make a good Duchess.

  And he was going to make sure she did not slip through his fingers, even if he did have to play dirty to do it. Last night he’d let his honour get in the way of accomplishing his goal. It would not happen again.

  ‘I think it is a fine idea,’ Freddy said.

  Mother’s spine stiffened. ‘Well, if you do not mind your guests going home chilled to the bone and blaming us for their subsequent illness, I shall have nothing more to say on the matter.’

  ‘Good. Then the matter is settled.’

  ‘I would still appreciate your views on the detail,’ Minette said to Mother, attempting to act as peacemaker.

  As if she had not heard, Mother poured the tea and handed each of them a cup. ‘I understand you spent the past hour or so with Carter, Frederick.’

  That was one way to change the subject.

  ‘I did.’

  ‘You should have come to me if you have questions. Carter is all very well in his way, but he has not had the benefit of working under your father. He has no concept of our history. Of what is important.’

  The man had been his choice after their old steward had begged to be permitted to retire. He forced himself to remain outwardly calm. ‘He understands modern farming methods.’

  ‘Modern.’ She tutted. ‘What was good enough for your father and for his father should be good enough for you.’

  For the son who had stolen the true heir’s birthright. He could hear the meaning in the inflection in her voice. He quelled his anger. Swallowed the bitterness. ‘If the estate doesn’t change with the times, our fortunes will suffer.’

  Her mouth tightened. Then she trilled a brittle laugh. ‘The man is impossible. He actually suggested plo
ughing up the five-acre meadow and planting some sort of disgusting vegetable. And then he wanted to buy some infernal machine to sow seeds.’

  ‘I know. I told him to do so.’

  Her back stiffened. ‘You overruled my decision?’ She stirred her tea.

  ‘Because it was wrong.’

  She fairly vibrated with indignation. ‘My decisions are those your father would have made.’ The tea in her cup became a veritable storm. ‘He must be turning in his grave. If your brother had lived, he would know the right way to go about things.’

  Back to that. Of course. ‘I am sure he would.’

  Minette took his mother’s cup and set it on the table. ‘Please, Your Grace. Do not upset yourself.’

  ‘I know what I am doing,’ Freddy said. ‘I have been reading up on modern methods.’

  Mother gazed at him sorrowfully. ‘I might be less concerned had you applied yourself while your father was alive. Night after night he bemoaned your lack of application. Your disinterest. All you thought about was raking around Town. You were a constant source of disappointment.’

  Minette gasped.

  Freddy closed his eyes briefly. The silent accusation in his father’s eyes and the bitter condemnation of his mother out of his father’s hearing, along with his own guilt, had driven him to the worst kind of excesses, until Gabe had come along and given him a purpose. And then his father had died and left him with the blasted dukedom.

  ‘It is all water under the bridge. You have been carping at me for years to take up my responsibilities, so here I am.’

  Mother bristled. ‘You should have discussed these decisions with me before countermanding my instructions.’

  His hand clenched on his saucer. A taut silence fell.

  ‘Mr Jevens thinks the weather will be fine for the ball,’ Minette said. ‘Something to do with his rheumatism.’

  The look of appeal for support she sent Freddy made him take a deep breath. He had fallen into Mother’s trap of trading barbs. As usual she had goaded and goaded until he could stand it no longer.