Benjamin clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.
“Is there an intruder in my study?” the Duke asked, and began to pretend to search under his impressive Chippendale desk, behind the leather chairs, and in the empty fireplace.
Finally he threw back the curtains, his son erupting into giggles at his discovery. “Ho, look here! Whatever shall I do with you, boy?” Lionel lifted him up and swung him around the room, sending Benjamin into fits of glee.
“Now,” continued the Duke, setting Benjamin on his lap, “Where are your brothers and sisters?”
“Daniel, Thomas, and Violet are with the governess,” Benjamin said, then stopped abruptly as he realized he was providing far too much information.
“Yet you do not have to do any learning today?”
“No,” Benjamin replied, shaking his head vigorously.
“And Polly, she also does not have to sit with the governess?” At his question, the Duke heard a noise from the corner of the room. “For if you both have escaped the woman, your mother will be quite vexed. You know this is the third governess she’s hired this year.”
“Yes, Father, we know.”
“Be good, children,” the Duke said, before rising from his seat on the arm of the chair.
“Father?” Benjamin’s voice rose in question as he tugged at his sleeve.
“Yes, son?”
“Mama says that Daniel has to work hard at his lessons because he is to be a duke himself one day. Violet and Polly need to learn in order to be ‘polished young ladies who will find a good match.’ But what about Thomas and me? Are we going to make good matches one day too?”
The Duke knelt down so that he could look into his son’s face.
“Yes, I do hope you find a good match one day, ‘tis true,” he said with a nod. “However, you and Thomas can both do anything in life you please.”
“Can I be a duke?”
Lionel chuckled. “I suppose you cannot do anything, for no, you cannot likely be a duke. You can be part of the army, you can go into the clergy, you can be a barrister … why, there are many options.”
“Would it be all right if I just had fun every day playing for the rest of my life?”
The Duke smiled at his son and ruffled his hair before they heard a shrill voice calling. “Oh, dear,” he said. “You best get out of here before your mother sees you. She’ll want you at your lessons. Polly, out from behind the bookshelf now, return to your studies.”
“Yes, Father,” she said, appearing from the corner of the room. She joined Benjamin as they raced from the study, the Duke smiling after them.
1
Fifteen years later
Benjamin Harrington, third son to the Duke of Ware, groaned loudly as the curtains in his bedchamber were thrown open. A stream of sunlight hit him across the face, making his head burn with pain.
“Close those at once!” he barked, throwing his arm across his eyes to block out the light. “Whatever do you think you are doing? I shall have you dismissed!”
The maid, however, was used to the bluster that accompanied him when he woke and ignored his orders entirely. Instead, she placed the breakfast tray on the small table by the roaring fire and left the room, clearly not in the least bit concerned over what Benjamin had threatened.
Muttering under his breath, Benjamin wondered whether he had enough energy to get out of bed and close the drapes once more before crawling back under the covers, or if he was best to simply deal with the fact that he had been awakened for a reason and was obviously expected. The maid had evidently been following his mother’s orders, given how she had ignored his instructions, which meant that there would be consequences if he did not rise from his bed.
And if his mother had given strict instructions to the maid, then she would certainly report to his father if he did not appear soon after being awakened.
Groaning out of frustration rather than pain, Benjamin dropped his arm back to his side and tried to open his eyes. His head screamed as he blinked in the sunlight and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a few moments until he ventured to open them again.
Throwing back the bed linens and quilt, he walked across the cold wooden floor to the fire, dressed only in his nightshirt. How he had the presence of mind to change out of his clothes last night, he could not say, for he had imbibed a great deal of liquor. Most likely his valet, the ever-faithful Peter, would have waited up to assist him, although Benjamin could not even remember climbing the stairs to his room. It must have been a damned good evening if he could not recall a thing about it.
His stomach churned, but Benjamin drank the coffee and ate his toast regardless, knowing that, even though everything in him wanted to refuse to eat or drink a single thing, he was determined to lose his headache. By his second cup, Benjamin was beginning to feel a little better and he sat back in his chair with a sigh.
The day was bright, although it looked as though the sun was already beginning to fade. Glancing at the clock, Benjamin was surprised to see that it was already late afternoon – not that the time particularly mattered. He had become a creature of the night of late, spending his days in bed and his nights out with friends, at whatever soiree or ball they could find, and if not there, then at a club or gaming hall. For what else was the third son of a duke to do?
A frown wrinkled his brow. The truth of the matter was that Benjamin had very little idea about what to do with his future. He had no direction, no thought of where to take his next steps. His eldest brother had the title to worry about, of course, and Thomas had joined the Navy, although goodness knows where he was at the present moment. His sister Violet had been forced into a hasty marriage, albeit an apparently happy one, which left him and his sister Polly at home.
Polly’s direction in life was to find herself a suitable husband, of course, but Benjamin was not as eager to enter the matrimonial state. It seemed too proper, too much like duty and that was the one thing he did not particularly care for. Duty meant propriety. It meant acting with thought and good sense, and Benjamin was quite enjoying not having to worry about such things. At times, he was perturbed by his lack of future direction, but it was easy to push such thoughts away, especially when there was good liquor and easy women to be enjoyed. Besides, at only four and twenty, he was still a young man with many good years ahead of him.
There was a scratch at the door. Benjamin called for the person to enter, only for his valet to appear with a slightly apologetic look on his face.
“Forgive me for my tardiness, my lord,” he said, hastily walking over towards Benjamin. “I did not know you had awoken.”
Benjamin shrugged. “It is of little consequence. I am only just awake, as it is, but I presume from the rude way I was awakened that my mother wishes to speak to me, so I suppose I must dress.”
Peter nodded, walking towards the wardrobe to pick out Benjamin’s clothes. Benjamin watched him for a moment, a slightly puzzled expression coming across his face. “Did I come home late last night?”
“You did, my lord,” his valet replied, without a hint of censure in his voice. “Accompanied by a young lady.”
A jolt ran through him. That was a surprise. He never brought women home. “A lady?”
“Indeed, my lord.”
“I did not wake up with anyone beside me,” Benjamin murmured, his frown deepening as he tried to recall what had happened. “Are you quite sure I was not alone?”
“I believe she left in the early hours of the morning,” his valet replied, his face expressionless as he laid out Benjamin’s clothes. “I came in promptly to rescue your cravat and other such garments.” He sighed heavily, making Benjamin more than aware that his valet was quite displeased with how he must have hastily discarded his clothing.
Benjamin tried to remember who it was he had taken to his bed, but his mind conjured up no picture of the lady, nor of any pleasures they might have shared. That was more than a little frustrating, but it was, unfortunately, one
of the consequences of drinking too much brandy. It was not uncommon for Benjamin to take women to his bed, but he normally had his eye on them for some time beforehand. They had to be just right – women who did not wish for matrimony or the like but were seeking a liaison of sorts. They were mostly wealthy widows although, at times, Benjamin had occasion to visit some local establishments. However, whoever this lady was who had warmed his bed, Benjamin simply had no recollection of her whatsoever.
Shrugging off the feeling of unease, he decided that there was nothing for it but to ask one of his many friends, once he’d listened to whatever it was his mother had to say. Tonight was another night of dancing and cards, with a great deal of liquor likely to be thrown in and he did not particularly want to have his mother’s words ringing around his ears for the rest of the day. He would listen, mumble something as he usually did, and then make his way from the house.
Surely someone would know who this mysterious lady had been? Then again, perhaps she wanted to remain anonymous. The thought made his lips curve into a smile, as he began to look forward to the evening’s pleasures. Yes, indeed, life was very good – and he was sure it was only going to get better.
* * *
“Benjamin!”
His mother’s shrill voice had him wincing, his headache not quite gone. “Mama, a little more quietly if you please.”
“I will speak as loudly as I wish!” she replied, harshly, her eyes boring holes into him from where she stood in the middle of her drawing room, which his brother Thomas, a naval captain, had always jokingly called the helm of her ship. “Now, sit down. I have a great deal to say to you.”
With a heavy sigh, Benjamin sat, slumping into an overstuffed chair as he passed a hand over his eyes, already tired of the situation. Since his older sister had married, his mother had become more focused on him than he would have liked. “If you are going to lecture me, Mama, can you please make it quick? I have plans.”
She gaped at him for a moment, the wind taken completely from her sails.
“That is what you were going to do, was it not?” he continued when she did not speak. “To tell me that I must make something of myself, that I must stop my frivolous ways and find something of import to do?” He had heard it all before and was growing weary of the same words being flung at him on a fairly regular occurrence. “I must tell you, Mama, that I have very little inclination to do such a thing, for I am quite happy in my present state.”
His mother’s eyes flared. “Well, neither I nor your father is pleased, Benjamin! For goodness sake, the maids are gossiping about the lady who crept from your room in the small hours of the morning. I cannot have such behavior in my house. You are bringing shame to our family.”
He shrugged, trying not to let her words affect him. “I am of age to do as I please, Mama.”
A slight smile curved her lips, surprising him and making him sit up a bit taller in his chair, suddenly suspicious. This was not the reaction he had expected.
“You forget, Benjamin, that the matter of your father’s will is something still to be decided. You believe that you can continue as you please, with nothing to stop you – but I think that you should consider the matter a little more carefully.”
He frowned at her, no longer slouching, but sitting forward in alarm. “Father’s will? What are you talking about, Mama?”
Benjamin watched her smile widen as she sat down, taking her time to sit carefully and brush the wrinkles from her skirts. He knew she was making him wait and tried his best not to let his frustrations show. “Mama?” he muttered, seeing her eyes on him. “What are you trying to say?”
The smile disappeared and she fixed him with her gaze. “I mean this, Benjamin. Your father’s will currently has a good settlement for each of his children. That will can easily be rewritten.”
Staring at her, Benjamin let her words wash over him, trying his best to work out what it was she was suggesting.
“Are you trying to tell me that father will remove me from his will if I do not ‘settle down’?” he asked in carefully measured tones, quite sure that his mother was bluffing.
“That is precisely what I am saying,” his mother replied, calmly. “We care for you, Benjamin, but we cannot continue to watch our fortune frittered away on wastefulness!”
“It is my money,” Benjamin bit out, his collar suddenly a little too tight. “I have money of my own.”
“You have some,” she answered, quickly. “But the majority of your fortune is tied up in the will, as well you know. You will need to start being more careful, Benjamin. Money is not going to last forever, you know. Should you continue to fritter through your current finances, you are not guaranteed to have anything else to live on once your father passes away.”
Benjamin narrowed his eyes, regarding his mother carefully.
“Father’s not … not ill, is he Mama?”
“No, of course not. With any luck he has many years remaining on this earth, however, one never knows. You have been warned, Benjamin.”
This was the first time she had made such a threat, and he was not quite sure whether or not he believed her. Was he going to call her bluff and continue with his evening plans regardless? Or was this enough of a threat to force him to do as she asked?
The stubbornness that had always been a part of his character rose to the fore once more, making his jaw clench. “I do not believe you would ever do such a thing, Mama,” he said, eventually, getting to his feet. “Your words mean nothing, for they hold no threat.” He chuckled then and shook his head, realizing that his father was not even present. “I’d bet you haven’t even spoken to Father about such things and have come up with this all on your own, in an attempt to bend me to your will.”
“Your disrespect for me is plain to see,” she said angrily, standing up to face him. “If you do not listen to me, then I shall make sure you listen to your father.”
Benjamin shrugged, refusing to listen to her any longer. “Good day, Mama. I shall not be back home until the early hours.” He heard her angry monologue begin once more but refused to listen to it, walking from the room. “Don’t wait up for me, Mama. I do not intend to rush home, not even with your threats hanging over my head.” With a chuckle, he pulled the door closed behind him and walked down the stairs towards the front door.
2
Sophie Carmichael sat at the long dining table, pushing around the potatoes and peas on her plate. The dark, echoey room was silent, but for the click of utensils. She took a breath as she tried to determine the best way to approach her cousin.
“Malcolm,” she began slowly, looking up at the handsome man across the table from her. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Well, that is notable.” He looked down his long nose at her with a sneer.
She ignored his barb and continued. “I should like to talk to you about going to London.”
“To London?” His face snapped up to meet hers, his steely grey eyes beading as they ran over her, assessing. “Why would you want to go to London?”
“For the season,” she said, willing herself not to back down from him. “It is time that I found a husband. Since my parents passed, I have remained in mourning but as it has now been over six months it is finished. I feel that I should --”
Her cousin, the Earl of Dunstable, cut her off with a snort. “Sophie, you have everything you need right here in the home I have so generously provided you. I believe I have made my intentions quite clear. As you say, the period of mourning is over, and I am pleased that you have done away with those hideous black dresses of yours. It is time we moved things along. You say you want a husband? I have offered you that and more. That is, once I determine whether you will suit.”
He shot a smirk her way. He had been more than clear on how he would assess whether or not she would do as his wife.
Her lecherous cousin had begrudgingly taking her in after the death of her parents. At first he was charming and kind, and she had been grateful for all
he had done for her. But soon he had turned, showing his true self and deciding that she should warm his bed as payment for residing with him.
Sophie had been filled with revulsion at the suggestion and had made her stance quite clear – only for his propositions to become more than just words. A few weeks ago, she recalled with chilling detail, he had managed to get her alone and pin her against the wall, attempting to kiss her as he groped at her skirts. Sophie had brought up her knee, and he had doubled over in pain. That had been the day she’d taken her room key and put it on a chain around her neck. With the help of the housekeeper, they had hidden the remainder of the keys to her room, making it the sole place she could be safe.
The chain was delicate and she made sure never to allow her cousin to see it. He had demanded to know where the key was, of course, but she had simply refused to answer – and had then been forced to spend much of her time hiding in her room from his ensuing wrath. Without her key, she was not sure how she would have avoided his attentions.
She had been hopeful she could convince him to take her to London where, should she not find a suitable match, she could perhaps find a way to get away from him, taking a position as a governess or some such post.
“Besides, dear cousin,” he continued, “how could you be so cruel as to suggest we leave Mother?”
Malcolm’s mother lived in the country home with them, providing a sense of propriety to the entire situation. In truth, however, she was fairly ill and seldom left her chambers. Sophie was quite on her own, besides the servants who did all they could to provide her with warnings of her cousin’s moods so she was able to distance herself.
“You!” Sophie jumped at Malcolm’s sudden shout at the footman. “Come, refill my glass. Pay attention, boy, to when your lord requires you.”
Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5 Page 25