‘You will have to do a great deal better than that if you mean to offend me,’ he replied with an easy smile. ‘But I am flattered by your assessment of my character and impressed by your skills of observation. I don’t find it easy to tolerate ignorance, nor do I have much patience with the banal mores that govern society, I won’t deny it. Not many people have noticed before now.’
‘I find it entertaining to study others. It saves thinking up something inspiring or intelligent to say. Most people enjoy the sound of their own voices and don’t require much encouragement to talk about themselves. You, on the other hand, tend to turn the conversation back to the affairs of whomever you are speaking with. I’ve marked that about you because I have a tendency to do the same thing, but I haven’t met anyone else so similarly minded before now.’
‘I can see that I shall have to watch myself in your company,’ he said. ‘You are far too astute for my comfort, and I have clearly met my match.’
They both sat in silence for a while, watching the dogs emerge from the thicket and frolic in the snow.
‘Would that our lives were that uncomplicated,’ he said wistfully.
‘I agree with that sentiment. But to return to your thoughts upon Mr Fordham, I still cannot see him being deliberately dishonest, secret vices notwithstanding. It would fly in the face of everything he stands for. But he is part of a large practice with four other solicitors. Perhaps one of the clerks…’
‘Very possibly. I know Max intends to speak with you about it and I might have got it entirely wrong.’
‘It is within your best interests to help me get to the bottom of things, I suppose, since it will also resolve the problems with your right of way. It can only be Yaris who has tried to interfere, after all.’
‘I would put aside my reclusive behaviour to help you even if it was not,’ he said softly, raising her gloved hand to his lips and kissing the back of it. ‘But come now, we had best return to the house, where I will have to find a way of explaining why the dogs are soaked to the skin.’
She smiled as he helped her to her feet. ‘No one could expect much else, given the conditions. But thank you for your company and your speculations regarding Mr Fordham. You are wrong about him, I am absolutely sure of it, but it has given me a great deal to think about.’
‘Happy to have been of service,’ he replied, whistling to the dogs, retrieving their discarded ball and throwing it ahead of them. ‘Stand clear!’
He grasped her as one of the dogs, which had been loitering to investigate an interesting smell, charged ahead, almost knocking her from her feet. She fell against him, the wind knocked from her lungs by the force of the contact. Her hood fell away and she was conscious of long strands of hair blowing across her face. His eyes darkened as their gazes clashed and held. ‘Ah, sweet lady, what am I to do with you?’ he asked, on a long sigh.
He wound a strand of her hair around his gloved finger and as quickly let it go again. He had been about to kiss her, she was absolutely sure of it, but had changed his mind at the last minute. Leona wondered if she would have permitted it—already aware of the answer.
She somehow found the strength to extricate herself from his arms. She was not a green miss, but nor was she free with her favours. A temporary fixation upon this complex gentleman simply wouldn’t do. They would work together to secure their respective properties, at least whilst she was here in Winchester, and then she would likely never see him again.
Except that she would, if she secured ownership of her husband’s Irish estate and decided to pay it a prolonged visit, or even live there permanently. They continued to walk towards the house, the silence between them no longer easy but filled with a brittle tension as they were each consumed by their individual thoughts. She wondered how he felt about their accidental embrace. Was he embarrassed by it? God forbid that he thought she had deliberately contrived it, that he detected the desire in her eyes and knew she would have welcomed his kiss—or at least done nothing to stop him from instigating it.
She snatched her arm free of his hold and walked the last few yards into the house ahead of him. Embarrassed she might be, but against every vestige of good sense she found herself looking forward to becoming better acquainted with her Irish property. That anticipation had nothing to do with desires of a very different nature that she was obliged to fight against in this intoxicating gentleman’s disarming company.
Absolutely nothing whatsoever.
*
‘Ariana!’
Looking at the view from the window over the snowy landscape, Ariana was brought abruptly back to the present by three indignant faces turned towards her.
‘We have done our sums and got them all right,’ Leo reminded her, ‘and we’ve eaten our luncheon—even the peas—and the girls are asleep. So is Jonah,’ he added, referring to his youngest brother, ‘and you said we could go outside and play snowballs.’
‘You promised,’ Josh added, backing up his cousin for once instead of attempting to kill him.
‘You did.’ Adam, the duke’s second son, nodded vigorously, always ready to agree with whatever Leo said.
‘I’m not asleep,’ Charlotte protested. ‘I’m the oldest and I want to come too.’
‘You’re a girl,’ Leo said scathingly. ‘You can’t even throw properly.’
‘I can throw far enough to hit you, Leo Sheridan!’ Charlotte planted her little fists on her hips and stuck her tongue out at the next Duke of Winchester.
‘All right.’ Ariana shared a look with the children’s nanny and admitted defeat. ‘Hats, coats and gloves on then, boys. And you, Charlotte.’
Aware that Miranda and the duke’s daughter would sleep for a while longer under the careful watch of their nanny, Ariana gathered up her own outdoor garments and prepared to brave the elements. The sun had come out and the snow was perfect for the boys’ purpose. They were scooping up handfuls and hurling it at one another the moment they stepped outside. Charlotte, for all her determination, showed little interest in joining them. Instead, she stuck with Ariana and seemed unnaturally subdued.
‘Are you worried about something?’ Ariana asked as they stood to one side and watched the boys running, burning up energy as they battled it out. Leo and Josh showed one another no mercy but Ariana was touched to see how gentle they were with little Adam, who was not yet four.
‘My grandmother.’ Charlotte’s lower lip wobbled. ‘Will she make us go back to London with her? I don’t want to go and leave you and Papa.’
‘No one will make you go anywhere, my love,’ Ariana replied, holding the child close. ‘Your papa will make sure of that and so will I. We cannot possibly do without you here at the Park.’
‘Mama said she would never leave us,’ Charlotte said in a desolate tone, ‘but she did, so how can I be sure?’
‘Oh, sweetheart! Your mama didn’t leave you through choice. A bad person hurt her and she went to heaven, but she is still watching over you because she loves you very much.’ It was the first time that Charlotte had made direct mention of her mother to Ariana, who was unsure if that was a positive sign or a further indication of insecurity. ‘Shall we show them how it’s done?’ She nodded towards the battle.
A smile lit up Charlotte’s face and Ariana knew that she was reassured, at least for the time being. The two of them bent down to scoop up their own ammunition. The boys were so caught up in their fight for supremacy that they didn’t notice Charlotte creeping up behind them. She caught Leo directly in the chest, just as she had warned him to expect earlier. The boys howled in protest and joined forces against Charlotte, who seemed more than capable of defending herself. But Ariana thought she ought to join in, just to show willing, and hurled a massive snowball that missed its mark, went wildly off target and hit…Lord Amos’s arm.
‘Oh, sorry,’ she said, covering her mouth to hide her laughter. ‘I did not see you approaching.’
‘Evidently,’ he said, brushing snow from the sleeve of his coat
. ‘I see you have quickly grasped the concept.’
‘It is not complicated.’
They watched the children, who had drawn battle lines. Josh and Charlotte opposed the duke’s two sons, and they hadn’t noticed Lord Amos yet. She took the opportunity to relate Charlotte’s fears to him.
‘Damn that woman!’ he muttered. ‘We were making progress with her and this will set her back.’
‘She is reassured now, but you will need to give her a great deal of attention; at least while Mrs Brooke is here.’
‘She will be leaving tomorrow if I have to repair her carriage myself.’
‘That would be helpful.’
Lord Amos looked away and appeared to be struggling to contain his temper. ‘How do you like snow?’ he asked, when he returned his attention to her, seemingly in control of himself again.
Ariana wrinkled her nose. ‘Not very much. I can barely feel my fingers and toes.’
‘Then we should return to the house. It will be time for the children to go down to the drawing room soon. We need to get that out of the way and then our unwelcome visitors will be gone, but—’
Whatever he’d been about to say was cut short when the children saw him and bombarded him with snowballs.
‘Ah-ha!’ Lord Amos prowled up to them and showered the older boys with an onslaught of snowy retaliation that had them screaming with laughter and begging for mercy. He swept Charlotte into his arms and ushered the others back towards the house. ‘Come along, that’s enough for today,’ he said.
The boys protested but did as they were told, leaving Ariana to contemplate the impossible task of making them presentable for their parents.
Chapter Nine
Zach and Frankie stood together at his library window, watching the snowball fight and listening to the screaming laughter.
‘Josh and Leo seem to be naturally protective of Adam,’ Frankie said. ‘Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for their treatment of Charlotte,’ she added, wincing as Amos’s daughter was struck by a missile Leo had thrown.
‘She would be furious if they made allowances for her sex, one imagines, much as Anna was at that age.’ He laughed as Charlotte retaliated, her aim spot on. ‘See what I mean? Anna insisted upon inflicting herself upon us boys, much to our disgust, especially as she proved a worthy adversary when it came to snowballs. Conkers too, come to that, and climbing trees and…well, you get the idea.’ He chuckled. ‘I’d forgotten about the conker wars. She had the champion conker for one whole season. None of us could beat it. It was infuriating, and a lesson well-learned. We thought that since we were boys it went without saying that we would be better at everything, but Anna had other ideas—and so, it seems, does Charlotte.’
Frankie smiled. ‘I’m glad Anna kept you in your place.’
‘I was pleased to see Amos joining in. He has obviously not allowed Mrs Brooke’s presence to overset him.’ Zach slid an arm around Frankie’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head. ‘Anyway, it’s time to face the mayhem in the drawing room and show our faces to our unwelcome guests.’
Frankie flashed a mischievous smile. ‘Since we none of us approve of Mrs Brooke, am I allowed to play the part of the archetypal duchess?’
Zach pulled her into his arms and kissed her. ‘As imperious as you like, my sweet.’
They entered the drawing room, Marley and Mungo at Zach’s heels, to find only the unwelcome guests in question in occupation of it. Mrs Brooke and her daughter were engaged in a heated discussion which abruptly broke off when they saw Zach and Frankie.
‘Your grace.’ Mrs Brooke was all demure smiles as she stood to bob a curtsey. ‘It is so very gracious of you to offer us houseroom in our hour of need. May I present my son-in-law, Mr Devonshire? Mr Devonshire, the Duke and Duchess of Winchester.’
Devonshire, a man of about thirty-five, was handsome and aware of it, Frankie thought. Arrogance was a trait often found in those with the least to be arrogant about, she knew, watching him dispassionately as he made a sweeping bow and smiled pointedly at her as he raised his head again. Frankie lifted her chin and bade him an aloof good afternoon.
‘We are much in your debt,’ he said, looking rather surprised when Frankie turned away from him, leaving him to address the last part of his sentence to her back.
Frankie and Zach sat together to one side of the fire, the space immediately in front of it having been purloined by Marley and Mungo, both of whom kept one eye open and growled whenever Devonshire came too close to them. Frankie made no effort to instigate conversation, and the uneasy silence would have become embarrassing had not Amos joined them at that point, closely followed by Vince and Nia then Max and Sara. Zach made the introductions in a brisk, offhand manner that could have left Mrs Brooke and her party in no doubt that they were there under sufferance.
‘Our brood survived the blizzard,’ Vince said cheerfully. ‘While you’ve been playing in the snow, big brother,’ he added, grinning at Amos, ‘I manfully waded my way through it to Stoneleigh Manor, just to make sure that all was well and to set Nia’s mind at rest. The children were building a snowman. Well, I think that’s what it was supposed to be but it was difficult to be sure. It looked more like a lopsided dwarf.’
‘Don’t be so mean!’ Nia protested, laughing. ‘They are both still very young.’
‘And haven’t yet shown any sign of your artistic talents,’ Vince replied, grinning unrepentantly at his wife. ‘I love the little monsters to distraction, but I shall not fall into the trap of exaggerating their abilities, or lack thereof.’
‘Well, ours aren’t doing much better,’ Frankie said, smiling as she rang the bell for tea. ‘They have put aside educational pursuits in favour of a snowball fight, orchestrated by Amos.’
‘Good heavens.’ Vince grinned. ‘That was brave of you, Amos. I recall how vicious those battles were when we were Josh’s age.’
‘Charlotte was the most aggressive, from what we saw,’ Zach said.
‘We know from experience that sisters aren’t necessarily delicate little creatures,’ Vince said, sharing a pained look with his brothers.
‘I wish I had known,’ Mrs Brooke said. ‘I should have enjoyed seeing the children out of the schoolroom.’ She paused, waiting for some sort of response that didn’t materialise. ‘I wonder at the influence the Spanish woman has over them, Lord Amos. Are you absolutely sure she is the right person to be guiding the dear little things? It is so very difficult to get the measure of foreigners.’
Mrs Brooke’s ill-timed and ill-advised comment killed the conversation. Frankie bestowed an imperious look upon the woman and she had the grace to mutter some sort of muted apology that lacked conviction. Frankie wondered what she hoped to achieve by such a remark. If she wanted to mend bridges with Amos, criticising the arrangements he had made for his children’s care hardly seemed like the right way to go about it.
‘I am sorry if the organisation of our nursery does not meet your exacting standards, madam,’ Zach said shortly.
‘Oh, I did not mean…’
Her words trailed off when the door opened and Leona walked through it in the company of Mr Conroy.
‘Ah, now we are all here,’ Frankie said, smiling at them both before making the introductions.
‘Marlowe?’ Devonshire had watched Leona walk into the room with avid interest. ‘What a coincidence. I believe I knew your husband.’
‘Indeed, sir, you have the advantage of me, since I do not recall his ever mentioning your name.’
‘We were not intimate. I was in France a while back and our paths happened to cross. I was sorry to learn of his death.’
Leona inclined her head. ‘Thank you.’
Frankie could see that Leona was discomposed by Devonshire’s remarks and his prolonged and somewhat impolite scrutiny. But she was more interested to notice Devonshire turn puce when he learned Conroy’s identity. Frankie glanced at Zach and could see he had noticed his reaction too. Conversely, Conroy showed ab
solutely no recognition of Devonshire and barely spared him a passing glance. Mrs Brooke clearly took a liking to Mr Conroy and tried to engage him in conversation. That gentleman had displayed exquisite manners since his arrival at the Park, but when he couldn’t avoid responding to Mrs Brooke, he was short with her to the point of rudeness. Frankie wanted to applaud.
Instead she turned her attention to Crista’s sister, wondering again how they could ever have been related. Amelia had yet to open her mouth and had fallen into a sulk. Crista had been a delight. Intelligent, lively and engaging company, Frankie had never once seen her fall back on sulking if she didn’t get her way.
Frankie’s attention was distracted by the sound of small feet thundering down the stairs.
‘Papa!’ Leo cried, bursting into the room with Josh at his side. ‘We had a snowball fight. It was the greatest possible fun and Adam and I won.’
‘No you didn’t!’ Josh protested. ‘Tell them, Papa.’
‘I hope they have not worn you out, Ariana,’ Frankie said, smiling at the lovely girl as the boys indulged in their customary bickering. She enjoyed Mrs Brooke’s affronted expression when Frankie treated the children’s governess with a degree of friendly courtesy that she had not afforded to her. She patted the end of the settee she shared with Zach and Ariana seated herself there.
‘It was a good way for them to let off steam, ma’am,’ Ariana replied.
‘We’re not kettles, Ariana,’ Leo said, ‘but I would produce more steam than Josh if we were.’ He made whooshing noises, as though on the point of boiling over, to demonstrate his point.
‘That’s so babyish,’ Josh said in a disinterested tone, emphasising his six-month seniority over Leo, as he so often did to resolve a dispute, much to Leo’s disgust.
The boys fell to romping on the floor, taking Adam with them. Zach swept their daughter Ailsa, now almost three and a vision of inquisitiveness, onto his lap, making her giggle when he jogged her up and down. Jonah, Frankie’s youngest son—her last child, since complications during his birth had made it impossible for her to have more, was now eighteen months old and into everything. Frankie took him from his nursemaid, wishing she could hold back time and that he would never have to grow older. She adored him at the age he was now. She could see resemblances to Leo and Adam at that age and looked forward to them all growing into strapping, handsome young men who turned heads wherever they went, much as Zach and his brothers had done before them.
On the Duke's Authority (Ducal Encounters series 4 Book 3) Page 12