The Duke's Secret Heir

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘What, go now?’ said Dorcas, her thin eyebrows shooting up in surprise. ‘Before the Duke has joined us?’

  ‘It has been a long day and I am exhausted,’ she replied, truthfully. ‘I want to look in on little James and make sure he is sleeping and then I shall retire.’

  ‘But you cannot go off without informing Maximilian. He might wish to talk to you.’

  ‘Oh, I am sure you can tell him where I am.’ Ellen regarded her sister in law with a steady gaze. ‘As you have been at pains to point out to me, this is the Duke’s house. If he wants me he knows where to find me.’

  With that she whisked herself out of the room.

  Chapter Nine

  Ellen sat before her looking glass, breathing deeply to let the anger seep away with every exhalation. She had a great deal of sympathy for her sister-in-law and was determined not to fall out with her. It was barely a year since Dorcas had lost not only her husband, but her position in society, although Ellen was not sure which of the two she had valued most. She thought of the rooms directly above her, the nursery. Mrs Greenwood had explained they had been fully refurbished by Dorcas when she had come to Rossenhall as a new bride. They included every convenience, every luxury, but had never been required, and Ellen suspected it was a severe trial for her sister-in-law to think of Jamie in the rooms she had hoped would be used by her own sons.

  There was a knock at the door and the Duke walked in. Ellen said nothing, reminding herself that as her husband he had a perfect right to enter her bedchamber. Her heart gave a little skip as she studied him in the mirror and she thought how well he looked in the dark evening coat and white linen with the candlelight glinting on his fair hair. She recalled that he had looked just as handsome in the Oriental robes he had worn in the desert. But they had both been so much happier then.

  ‘Dorcas said you had gone to bed,’ he said. ‘Are you unwell?’

  ‘No, I am fatigued, nothing more.’

  ‘I have never before known you to be tired.’

  She gave him a wry look in the mirror. ‘I have never before dined with the Dowager Duchess.’

  She reached back to wrestle with the fastening of her diamond necklace.

  ‘Here, let me do that.’

  Ellen froze, trying not to tremble as his fingers brushed the skin at the back of her neck. His hands stilled for a moment and she thought wildly and with aching regret that once he would have bent to kiss her neck. And he could do so now, if he so wished. If he was not regretting their marriage. If he loved her.

  ‘Where is your maid?’ he said, unclasping the necklace and handing it to her before stepping away. ‘She should be helping you.’

  ‘Matlock is in the nursery with Jamie. She will be here soon to help me into my nightgown.’

  Her throat dried and she stared fixedly into the glass. It was impossible not to think that once such a comment would have made him grin and say that he would help her out of it again, but not now. Now he looked severe and stony-faced. He turned away and stood before the fireplace, idly playing with the ornaments on the mantelshelf.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you. About your fortune.’

  ‘I have no fortune. As Dorcas so kindly reminded me, everything I own is now yours.’

  ‘We must change that,’ he said. ‘We must draw up a proper settlement, make sure there is a widow’s jointure for you, should it be necessary. I shall write to the lawyers in the morning.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He swung around, meeting her eyes in the looking glass. ‘You sound surprised. Do you think I would do any less for you?’

  She was uncomfortable with him towering over her, so she pushed herself up from the dressing stool. She still had to look up, but he was not quite so intimidating.

  She said quietly, ‘I am aware you think I wronged you, Max, but I truly believed we were not married.’

  ‘So you have said.’

  ‘Can you not believe me?’

  ‘Oh, I believe you, madam. I believe you set your people to discover the truth, when you returned to England, but could you not have waited until you could ask me?’

  ‘Max, I—’

  He flung himself away from her outstretched hand.

  ‘Do you understand what you did, madam? To desert me, to deprive me of my son, my heir? You might have thought me an imposter, a deserter who was merely calling himself Max Colnebrooke to impress you, but when Hugo died why did you not swallow your pride and enquire again, just to be sure, if only for your son’s sake? But, oh, no. Not even a word of condolence for the loss of my only brother. I would never have thought you could be so heartless.’

  ‘I did write, Max, I wrote twice—’

  ‘Do not add lies to your offences!’

  Ellen flinched. She said quietly, ‘I never lied to you.’

  But he was not listening. He was scowling at the floor as he paced back and forth, his anger barely contained.

  ‘You judged me a villain and gave me no opportunity to explain myself.’ He turned to her, snarling. ‘Well, is that not so?’

  Ellen met his angry gaze. What could she say that would not cause more pain?

  ‘Could we not put the past behind us and start again?’

  ‘What you ask is impossible.’ His eyes rested on her in a dark, glowering look, then he sighed. ‘We neither of us want this marriage, Ellen, but we are caught in it, for the sake of the boy.’

  Long after he had left the room Ellen did not move. She stared at the closed door, feeling as if someone had wrenched out her heart.

  * * *

  Max closed the door behind him with great care. He prayed she had not heard the heavy thud of his heart, or seen the effort it cost him to appear polite and indifferent when in truth he wanted to drag her into his arms and lose himself in the desire that was as strong as ever. Walking away from her, saying those words, was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life.

  It was necessary, he told himself as he went to his own bedchamber. He could not afford to go back to the loneliness, the black depression he had felt when he returned from Egypt to find she had disappeared. In Ellen he had thought he had found a soulmate. He had thrown caution to the winds and married her, a rash, foolish gesture and quite out of character. When he discovered how she had left Egypt he had not given up hope immediately, convincing himself that it had been expedient for her to put herself under the protection of the French. So he had come back to England, expecting to find her waiting for him, but there was nothing. Nothing but pain and guilt and intolerable grief in the years that followed.

  * * *

  Ellen woke to find the sun streaming into her bedchamber. She went to the window and stared out, feeling her spirits lift at the view. The terraced gardens were full of summer flowers and elegant statuary, and then the sloping lawns led the eye to a large lake. Beyond that, parkland stretched to the horizon.

  ‘This is my home, now,’ she murmured, hugging herself. ‘For better or worse.’

  She knew this was only one of the estates belonging to the Duke of Rossenhall. It was magnificent, but Ellen had a shrewd idea of the costs involved in running such a property, and from what Max had said last night the accounts were not in good order. She felt a little tremor of excitement run through her. There was much work to be done here and she could help. She was determined to help.

  * * *

  An hour later she made her way down to the breakfast room, getting lost only twice on the way. Max was alone at the table. He rose and moved to hold a chair out for her, one at some distance from his own, she noticed. Irritation prickled. Did he think she would throw herself at him in a fit of unseemly passion? Then she saw the strained look about his eyes, as though he, too, had not slept well.

  She said, as a servant brought more freshly baked rolls to the
table, ‘Since the weather is fine I should like to drive about the grounds this afternoon.’

  ‘The carriage will be at your disposal.’

  ‘I thought perhaps you would like to escort me.’ She peeped at him under her lashes, saw the faint hesitation before he refilled his coffee cup.

  ‘Unfortunately that will not be possible. I am leaving at noon. I have business in town.’

  ‘Today? But we have only just arrived.’

  ‘It cannot be helped. My business is in the city, so there will be no social visits, else I should take you with me. Would you like more coffee?’

  ‘No, thank you. Can your business not wait a few more days? I hoped you might show me Rossenhall.’

  He did not meet her eyes. ‘Dorcas and Mrs Greenwood will acquaint you with all you need to know.’

  ‘I have already arranged for the housekeeper to give me a tour of the house this morning, but your land here is extensive. With the park and the farms, there is so much to discover.’

  ‘You want to know about the estate, too?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I am eager to learn everything I can.’

  ‘Then ask Tony Grisham. I am sorry I have not had time to present him to you, but Dorcas will do that, if you ask her.’ He put down his napkin and rose from the table. ‘I shall be seeing my lawyer about drawing up the settlements for you. I also thought I might look up these friends of your father’s to discuss...our investments. Perhaps when you have broken your fast you could write me any necessary letters of introduction.’

  And with that he strode out of the room.

  Ellen broke off another piece of bread and chewed it thoughtfully. He had almost run away from her. Did he hate her so much that he could not remain in her presence, or was it that he felt the attraction, the connection between them, as she did? The little flame of hope that refused to die flickered a little brighter.

  * * *

  Max was surprised to find a small party gathered in the hall for his departure. Ellen had brought Jamie downstairs, even though Max had made a point of visiting the nursery to say goodbye. Dorcas proffered her hand for his salute and then he was obliged to take leave of his wife. Even as he hesitated Ellen stepped forward and put her hand on his shoulder, reaching up to kiss his cheek. He kept his hands by his sides, fists clenched to stop himself reaching for her as he was enveloped in the faint but alluring scent she wore. He should say something, but even as he struggled for the words, little James caused a diversion by tugging at his coat-tails.

  ‘Duke, Duke, will you bring me a drum from London? You promised, you know.’

  The tension eased. Max heard Ellen’s gurgle of laughter as she swept the boy up into her arms.

  Typically, Dorcas gave a little tut of disapproval. ‘Your papa has important business. He cannot be thinking of toys for you.’

  ‘But I did promise.’ Max flicked Jamie’s cheek with one finger. ‘I will see what I can do.’

  Over the boy’s head he met Ellen’s eyes. She said softly, ‘Thank you.’

  It was too much. He did not want a family. He did not want this additional pull on his emotions. With a curt nod he turned on his heel and hurried away to the waiting chaise.

  * * *

  Ellen knew the gloom that settled over the house when Max had left was not wholly in her imagination. The cloud had rolled in and a fine drizzle put an end to her plans to take Jamie for a drive. Instead she left him playing happily in the nursery and set off to explore the nether regions of the house. Mrs Greenwood had taken her on an extensive tour of the main rooms and guest chambers, and they had even, on Ellen’s request, ventured into the attics, next to the nursery, but there had been no time to visit the kitchens or the service rooms in the rustic.

  When Ellen had mentioned it to Dorcas she had been dismissive.

  ‘Why ever would you wish to go there?’ she had said. ‘The chef, Monsieur Tissot, has been presented to you and any other member of staff will be fetched upstairs, if you should wish to see them.’ She added, with a touch of pride, ‘I have never found it necessary to venture into the servants’ quarters. It is not a duchess’s province.’

  Ellen had kept her counsel, but now, with hours to spare before she needed to change for dinner, she set off to explore. The kitchens were situated in a pavilion behind the east wing and a few tactful words in his own language to the tyrant who presided over them had Monsieur Tissot falling over himself to present every one of his minions to milady. After a tour of his domain she headed back to the rustic to look for the estate offices. As she turned on to a long passageway she almost bumped into a gentleman in riding dress coming in the other direction. He stopped and backed away, putting up his hand as he hastily begged her pardon.

  ‘You must be Mr Grisham, the Duke’s steward,’ said Ellen. She smiled and shook her head when he clapped his hand over the empty left sleeve tucked into the pocket of his coat. ‘It was not that I noticed first about you, Mr Grisham, it was your ink-stained fingers! There is no other person you could be.’ She held out her hand. ‘I am delighted to meet you, sir.’

  With laughter shining in his own grey eyes, Tony Grisham wiped his one hand on his coat before touching Ellen’s fingers and bowing over them.

  ‘I am honoured, Your Grace. What can I do for you?’

  ‘You could guide me around this warren of rooms and corridors, and the outbuildings,’ she confided. ‘I thought, while the Duke is away, I should learn as much about Rossenhall as I can. That is, unless you are very busy?’

  ‘No, Your Grace, not at all. I have just put my ledgers away for the day.’ He gave a wry smile as he glanced as his hand. ‘Perhaps I should clean myself up first, though. I would not wish to offend you.’

  ‘If a little ink is all that is the matter then there is not the least need,’ she told him, twinkling. ‘I am frequently in the company of my son when he is a great deal grubbier than that.’

  He laughed. ‘Very well then, Your Grace. Where would you like to begin?’

  * * *

  They started with a tour of the palatial stable block, where Tony said he would introduce her to the head groom.

  ‘Would that be Stevens?’ she asked him. ‘He was with His Grace in Harrogate.’

  ‘No, ma’am. His Grace brought Stevens with him from the military. Old Joshua Thirsk has been in charge here since the old Duke’s time—the present Duke’s father. There is a head coachman, too, of course, but it is Joshua who is firmly in charge of the stables.’ He coughed, saying apologetically, ‘He likes to do things his way, ma’am, so it’s not as orderly as perhaps the Duke would like.’

  He led her across the yard to a shaggy-haired individual in a worn leather waistcoat and wearing a ragged kerchief tied around his neck. The old man regarded her with a rheumy eye. She greeted him in her friendly style and waved one hand towards the stables behind her.

  ‘Are any of these horses used on the farms?’ she asked him. ‘There seem to be far more than would be required by the family.’

  ‘Ah, well,’ he told her, ‘when the Dowager Duchess went into mourning she purchased several teams of black horses to pull her carriages.’

  ‘And the horses they were replacing, they were sold, I suppose?’

  The groom shifted from one foot to the other and looked at Tony, who answered, ‘No, ma’am. They are still here. Two teams for every carriage.’

  Ellen met the steward’s eyes and bit her lip upon the various exclamations that occurred to her. In the light of what Max had said about the finances she could see why he was concerned.

  ‘Do we need so many horses?’ she asked cautiously.

  ‘His Grace plans to sell several of the teams,’ said Tony.

  Joshua rubbed his nose. ‘If ever he’s here long enough to make a decision.’

  ‘Well, pe
rhaps you should help him,’ Ellen suggested. ‘If you and Mr Grisham were to draw up a list of the horses you wish to keep; we can put it to His Grace when he returns.’

  ‘Ah, but I wouldn’t want to be doing anything rash,’ objected the groom, looking anxious. ‘His Grace said as how the Dowager was to be consulted, and besides that, the Dukes of Rossenhall has always kept the very best ’osses in their stables.’

  ‘And that will not change,’ said Ellen. She realised he was concerned that his little kingdom would be drastically reduced and she was at pains to reassure him. ‘But I am sure you will agree that it is quite foolish to keep all these animals here if they are not being used.’

  And with another smile, she swept on.

  * * *

  By the time Ellen parted from Tony Grisham they had reached an excellent understanding. Her genuine interest in Rossenhall matched his own and she soon realised that he was eager to impart his knowledge. The following morning he took her to the Home Farm and after that they went out each day to call upon the tenant farmers. Ellen included Jamie in these visits, knowing he would enjoy the drive, but she was also aware that having Max’s son with her would break the ice with the families she was meeting.

  * * *

  It was a full week before Max returned to Rossenhall. He instructed his driver to take the chaise directly to the stables and when they came to a stand in the yard he jumped out. For a few moments he stood, looking about him, a faint crease between his brows. He saw Stevens coming out of one of the stalls and beckoned him over.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ he demanded.

  ‘Your Grace?’

  ‘Don’t act the fool with me,’ growled Max. ‘This yard’s tidier than I’ve ever seen it. The broken barrels have been removed, doors and windows repaired—even the cobbles look as if they have been washed down. Have you taken charge now? You know I have told Old Joshua about it a dozen times—well, what are you grinning at?’

  ‘It was the Duchess, Your Grace. She told Joshua how she liked to see everything clean and tidy, like.’