“Your Grace,” Sofia whispered, “I warned you to be cautious of those around you. Why must you continue paying a man who does not trust you and only mocks you?”
“Your Grace, if I may…” Mr. Ludlow tried again.
“No, you may not,” William shouted. “Your services are no longer required. Please leave whatever ledgers you have with you pertaining to me and send over any business documents you have at your office. Goodbye, Mr. Ludlow.”
He glared at the man until he finally sighed and set the ledger he had been writing in on the desk. Then he turned and left the room.
“William, you have done the right thing,” Sofia said as she refilled the glass he had not realized he had emptied once again. “Just like so many others, he does not believe in you.”
He recognized the sadness in her expression, for it reflected his current mood. “Cannot people see I am great?” he asked.
“Oh, they see your greatness,” she replied as she took his hand in hers. “Just as I do. However, they fear it, for you are powerful. Perhaps the most powerful Duke who has ever lived.”
He found her words encouraging. “I want to be that powerful Duke.”
“Then you must continue to act and walk with such power that none may speak against you. That man advised you on how to care for others but not how to care for yourself. You have a choice, my friend.”
“What choice?”
“Do you become a mighty Duke who others fear? Or do you become the Duke that gives in to every demand?”
He shook his head. “I thought I had come so far,” he said with a sigh, wishing the ache in his head would leave him. “However, you speak as if I have failed.
She squeezed his hand and pushed lightly on his shoulder to get him to sit. Then she looked down at him, and he felt as a child being reprimanded. “You have not failed,” she said lightly, “though you are weak in your resolve. Your grandfather knew that being kind had its place, but he also ruled with such power, none dared defy him. But do not worry, for I will help you achieve the same greatest as your grandfather; no, you shall be even greater than he was, if it is the last thing I do.”
William smiled as he thought again about Mr. Ludlow. The Dowager Duchess was leading him in the right direction, showing him how to stop men like Mr. Ludlow from rising against him. It was a weakness with which he suffered, and he was thankful that this woman cared enough to help him get past it.
“I will be a powerful Duke,” he stated with firmness as he rose from the chair. “There will be no more kindness shown for people who do not fear me!”
“Yes!” Sofia said with a wide smile. “That is the way of your grandfather. Now I see him completely in you. Oh, William, you have made me so happy!” Then she surprised him by hugging him, her head resting against his chest. “I have not been this happy in many years.”
He found her words confusing, but he smiled nonetheless. “I make you happy? Even when I am weak?”
She laughed and pulled away from him. “No, you are no longer allowing those around you to take advantage of you, and that is what makes me happy.” She walked around to the front of the desk. “Now, we must go into the village. I have jewelry to collect, and you must see to the work that is being completed on our…your new buildings.”
Nodding, he rose from the chair and then finished off the rest of the brandy in his glass. He was no longer the weak man he once was, and a sense of pride made him somehow feel taller than he was. He had already dismissed Mr. Ludlow and would do the same to anyone who stood in his way.
***
While Sofia stopped off at the jeweler’s, William walked down to the pub to have another drink. The pain in his head had not dissipated, and the alcohol would help ease some of the pounding—at least for the time being. Even a short-lived relief was better than none at all.
He downed the measure and pointed at the empty glass for the barkeep to pour him another. Something was bothering him, though he could not quite place it. It was not Mr. Ludlow, for he had made peace with what he had done. Nor was it Sofia, for she was only there to help him.
Then his mind went to Marianne, and he smiled as he finished the new brandy in one swallow. In just a few nights, he would see her, and she would be wearing her new gown and the jewels he had purchased for her. No woman could match her heart nor her beauty, and he found simply thinking of her eased some of his distress.
The fact he had lashed out at her still plagued him with guilt, and although she had already forgiven him, he would make it up to her somehow.
He placed two coins on the counter and left the pub just as Sofia crossed the street, her head held high as onlookers smiled at her.
“Did you not buy anything?” he asked. “You were meant to collect a piece, were you not?”
“Yes, the piece you bought for me. Though, I wish to surprise you with it at the party, if you do not mind waiting to see it.”
He smiled, but a thought crossed his mind. Was this woman attempting to impress him, to gain his eyes and heart that belonged only to Marianne?
She seemed to sense his thoughts, for she said, “William, you are my friend. Whenever I bought new jewelry, I would wait to show your grandfather at one important party or another; it was almost a game we used to play. I meant nothing by it.”
William cursed himself inwardly. He was becoming more suspicious by the day, and it bothered him that he was acting in such a way. “No, I look forward to it. I am sure you will catch the eye of many men, as well as the jealous stares of the women.”
She laughed. “The men look at the younger women, I am afraid,” she said. “But I am certain the women would naturally be jealous of a Duchess while she is standing beside a handsome Duke.”
William went to respond, but her eyes lit up and she leaned in to whisper, “Lord Chelsworth, the Earl of Flinton, and his wife are coming our way. He is certainly a man with whom you will wish to do business.”
A couple, perhaps of the same age as Sofia, approached. The Earl was what some might consider handsome, though his nose was rather large for his face. His wife wore a yellow dress that gave her skin a sallow tone, and she appeared out of breath.
“Your Grace,” the man said, giving Sofia a diffident bow. “It is wonderful to see you on this fine day.”
“Yes, it is,” Sofia said. “Lord Chelsworth, Lady Chelsworth, may I introduce His Grace, the Duke of Stromhedge.”
“Ah, yes,” Lord Chelmsworth said with a bow to William, “we received your invitation, Your Grace, and are honored to attend your party, are we not, my dear?”
His wife smiled. “Very much so,” she replied, her voice so high-pitched William found it nerve-grating.
Sofia laced her hand with his arm once more. “His Grace seeks to expand his wealth in the area of shipping,” she said with a meaningful nod to the Earl. “He has already received several offers, but I believe it would be wise that he speaks with you first.”
William went to interrupt, for she was mistaken in her claim. He had not made such plans nor talked with anyone else of such things. However, she patted his arm and then the Earl spoke again.
“Your Grace,” the man said with a wide smile, “when the time is convenient, I shall tell you what I have available and where I have plans for expanding. To do business with you would be a great honor indeed.”
Again, William went to speak, but Sofia did not allow him the opportunity. “The Duke is a very busy man, you understand.”
William stifled a sigh. “The Dowager Duchess is correct,” he said, though the lie did not sit well with him. “However, we will arrange a meeting at my convenience if you are willing to meet with me.” When the Earl gave an emphatic nod, that surge of power rushed through him once again. “I believe I have time tomorrow, but I must check my diary to be certain. You may make me an offer that is fair, and if you do not, I will do business elsewhere.”
“Yes, of course,” the man said. “Please send word when you are ready, and I will make
time in my schedule to do so.” He gave William a deep bow, and then he and his wife continued down the street.
“The power of my words!” he said with a wide grin. “Before, I would have asked him when was best for him. Now I see what you spoke of earlier.”
“You have done well,” Sofia said with a curl of her lip.
Then he turned and his eyes went wide as a face he had not seen in some time came into view. Thomas, the man with whom he worked at Millweed manor, came walking toward him, a stumble to his step and a bottle of spirits in his hand.
“William!” the man said with a jovial smile. “Look at you. I ain’t never seen a gardener look so proper.” He laughed and then let out a hacking cough followed by an undignified extraction of phlegm. “What’s the matter? Ain’t you happy to see me?”
William cringed at the man’s loud voice and he glanced around at the stares of onlookers, many of whom had stopped to watch the fiasco before him.
“Do not let him embarrass us further,” Sofia hissed, her face filled with shock.
Thomas lifted the bottle toward William. “Want a drink? I got yer letter and decided to come down for a bit and see ya.”
Red hot anger coursed through William when two women gasped as they walked past, covering their noses as if from a horrible stench. “I do not know you!” he shouted. “Keep away from me!” He pushed past Thomas, who stood with his jaw hanging open, watching as William and Sofia walked away.
“William?” Thomas called after him.
“You must keep walking,” Sofia whispered. “I will see to it that it is known he is a drunk who tried to rob you. You can never let anyone learn that you know him.”
William nodded. “I know,” he said, a sickness making his stomach clench. “Though I did know him.”
“A Duke must be powerful,” Sofia said as they came to a stop around the corner where Thomas could no longer see them, and the man had not followed them. Thankfully. “Do not forget.”
William nodded again, although what he had done did not sit any better with him than what had happened with the Earl. No, it felt worse by far. However, the last of her words bothered him the most, the words ‘Do not forget’, for there was something he was forgetting, though he could not quite place what it was.
Chapter Nineteen
William paced in his room, much to Hugh, his valet’s, chagrin, though the man was much too well-trained to comment. However, William could not keep his body still, for soon, guests would begin arriving for the party. Because several would be traveling a long distance, he had Mrs. Templeton see that all of the extra bedrooms were aired and cleaned to accommodate those who would be staying for the night so they would not need to return home after dark. Lord and Lady Garvey, his previous employers, had hosted gatherings, and that was what they had done. Plus, Sofia had told him that doing so would put him on a high level in the eyes of the ton, and she would know.
However, it was not his introduction to society that had him pacing like a wild cat in a traveling show, but rather how such an introduction will appear to Marianne. What he wished more than anything was that she was who she said she was, a woman who cared for him for he was and not a means to meet the needs of her father. What Sofia had told him still tickled the back of his mind, and he could not shew it away any more than a horse could shew away a fly. The more he tried, the firmer the thoughts returned.
The sound of a carriage coming up the drive alerted him to the arrival of his first guests, and William allowed Hugh to brush his coat once more before he headed downstairs to welcome the new arrivals. William still was not accustomed to having someone help him dress, and it had taken all of his willpower to not send the man away. By the end, however, he was glad Hugh was there to help, for the man was well-trained in the correct forms of dress, right down to the perfectly tied cravat around William’s neck; William would never have appeared the well-dressed Duke if he had been left to dress himself. He wondered, not for the first time, if it was the reason the aristocracy had a valet; the specificity of dressing for dinner was enough to drive a normal man mad, but to ready one’s self for a party? All the more so.
William arrived in the foyer just as Mr. Barnsworth was taking the coat and wrap of a couple William did not know. However, as luck would have it, Sofia also arrived at the same time, for she knew everyone on the guest list—she had compiled it for him as a way of helping him, another aid for which he was thankful.
“Your Graces,” Sofia said with enthusiasm, as if they were great friends of hers, which in all likelihood they were. She kissed the woman’s cheeks and allowed the man to kiss her hand and then she turned to William, “I present to you His Grace, Benjamin Young, Fifth Duke of Thornbrook, and his wife, Cecilia Young. They hail all the way from Bandford, Dorset.”
“Hawkins,” the Duke said as he offered the man his hand, “it was kind of you to invite us to this momentous occasion.”
William took the man’s hand and shook it. He glanced at Sofia, and she nodded encouragement. “I am pleased you were able to attend. I hope your journey was not too long.”
Young raised his hand as if it was nothing, though William suspected it had taken at least two days to travel from his home to the west. It amazed him that someone would come all that way simply to see him introduced to society, but he also understood that, if he was to become a great Duke, all of the ton would wish to meet him.
“I believe that Mr. Barnsworth can see them to their rooms,” Sofia said, clearly making an attempt to guide him in what he needed to say and do. “I imagine they are weary after such a long journey?”
William smiled. “Of course. Mr. Barnsworth most certainly will see you to your rooms.” He turned to the butler, who already stood beside a pair of footmen holding the Youngs’ heavy chest. “I recommend the Russian Room.”
Mr. Barnsworth bowed. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“If you need anything, Mrs. Templeton is our housekeeper, and she will get you what you need.”
“Thank you,” Young replied. “And again, thank you for having us. We look forward to tonight’s party, do we not, my dear?”
“Oh, yes, very much so,” his wife replied. The woman was young, perhaps no more than four and twenty, and she gaped around with wide eyes at the entryway.
William wondered if she, like himself, came from a modest background. However, he knew better than to ask such questions, so he waited for the couple to make their way up the grand staircase before he smiled at Sofia.
As if knowing his thoughts, Sofia whispered, “The Duchess comes from a merchant family, and she and the Duke married only a few years ago. They have two small children now, but despite her humble beginnings, she has become a favorite among the ton.” She lowered her voice even further. “Although, I believe it to be a favorite for rumors because of her upbringing. You will learn rather quickly that the ton can be…fickle…when it comes to those of us who were not raised as they were. That is why keeping your past a secret is of the utmost importance. If people were to learn the truth, they would find a way to use it against you.”
William found her words irritating, but he had to trust that what she said was true. If he was to be the most powerful Duke in history, then he had to do what he could to prove himself, even if it meant keeping quiet about his childhood.
***
Although the party William had planned was not her first, Marianne found keeping her anticipation under control difficult as the carriage made its way to Silver Birch Estate. The improvements William had made in his mannerisms and speech were enough to fool even the most rooted families of the ton, and Marianne could not have been prouder. Tonight would be, in a sense, his debut, and she suspected it would be the talk of the ton for years to come.
Lights blazed in the main windows of the grand house as the carriage pulled up behind several carriages queued to drop off their passengers at the front doors. It was difficult for her not to simply jump from the carriage and run up to the doors instead of waiting
their turn.
Her mother must have sensed her impatience, for she patted Marianne’s hand and said, “We will be there soon enough, my dear. This is the Duke’s night; allow him to stand on his own two feet.”
“Yes, Mother,” she said as she forced herself to sit back in the seat. However, the urge to leave did not leave her, and soon she was peering out the window to see how much longer it would be.
“Oh, bother!” she said as she sat back once more. “Lord and Lady Dowding is in the carriage before us. I cannot believe our luck.”
Her mother chuckled. “You will be as old as they one day, God willing. It is not nice to be angry simply because they are elderly. Be patient.”
“I am not angry because they are elderly,” Marianne said aghast. “I do not mean to sound disrespectful of their age; it’s just that my impatience is wearing me down.”
Her father laughed. “And your life is just beginning. Wait until you are our age and see what waiting will do to you then.”
Marianne did not laugh. Her parents simply did not understand. Or perhaps they did not remember. Whatever the reason, she did not see the humor in their words.
Finally, they were at the front of the queue where a footman placed a step and helped first Marianne’s mother and then Marianne from the carriage. They were ushered into the foyer to await William’s entrance, which Marianne anticipated above all else. She knew that he had commissioned new clothes for this occasion, but he had refused to show her, stating that she would ‘simply have to wait until that night’ to see what had been made for him. Regardless of the style, he would look handsome, for even in his gardener clothes, he had made her heart flutter. Newer clothing would not change how she felt about him.
As they waited, the Dowager Duchess of Durryham walked up to Marianne and her parents, a wide smile on her face. “Ah, Mr. And Mrs. Blithe. Miss Blithe. It is very good to see you here on such a momentous occasion. I must admit that I am quite proud of our young William…that is, His Grace.” Marianne was certain the mistake was intentional, but she made no response. If William chose to befriend the woman, he had his reasons. Regardless of which friends he chose, she would be the one to marry him.
Return of the Duke: Regency Hearts Book 2 Page 18