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On the Duke's Authority (Ducal Encounters series 4 Book 3)

Page 21

by Wendy Soliman


  Probably.

  He nodded when she glanced up at him over her shoulder and mouthed the question, ‘Mrs Brooke?’

  ‘It’s too bad of him.’ Leona could hear Amelia flouncing around the room and rolled her eyes at Doran. ‘Everything has gone horribly wrong, Mama. He is too preoccupied with his problems to spare me much attention. It’s not his fault if the harvest failed and those rude tenants blamed him for…well, for something. My poor husband feels it terribly. It affects his nerves and he hasn’t been to my bedchamber for ages.’

  ‘You should consider yourself fortunate in that regard, my dear. Most men are inconsiderate when it comes to demanding their marital rights.’

  Doran tightened his hold on her waist and she sensed him smiling at the turn the conversation had taken, clearly enjoying it. Leona found it excruciatingly embarrassing, but agreed with Mrs Brooke that Amelia had precious little to complain about—at least in that regard. George’s demands had been frequent and brutal. Her only respite from them had been when he was obliged to travel on diplomatic duties.

  ‘Mr Devonshire is going to be made bankrupt, my dear,’ Mrs Brooke said gently, ‘and you know what that will mean for you if you stay with him.’

  ‘I am his wife, Mama. My place is at his side, not yours. I am tired of your attempts to lure me away from him. That is why we need to discuss the situation, and I want you to hear what he has to say, so that you will be satisfied that he can still keep me in style. Then you will have to apologise.’

  ‘If he can provide that assurance, my dear, then no one will be happier than me. I know how much he means to you.’

  ‘Lord Amos has agreed to give you an allowance, so you will be able to live alone again. I know you don’t like my husband, so perhaps that would be for the best.’

  ‘Always assuming that Devonshire can give you the assurances you require and that I believe him,’ Mrs Brooke said firmly.

  ‘Even if you do not accept his word, I shall still stay with him. I want to stay with him. Where would it leave me if I did not? I cannot find another husband while Devonshire still breathes, and society will lay the blame at my door if I desert him, which means we won’t be invited anywhere. I shall simply be exchanging one type of servitude for another.’ Leona heard the swish of her skirts as she turned on her heel. ‘Oh no, I shall stay.’

  ‘We shall see.’

  ‘Arghh!’ This time the sound of a foot stamping was unmistakable. ‘This is not how it was supposed to be, Mama. It simply isn’t fair. Anyway, we’re wasting our time in this cold room since he obviously isn’t here.’

  ‘Perhaps he is with the other gentlemen.’

  ‘Hardly. The duke can barely tolerate his presence. He can barely tolerate us either, and would not do so at all were it not for our connection to my precious sister.’

  ‘Well, my dear, I keep telling you that if you would only put yourself out to be a little more gracious, things could be very different. Now come along. Since Devonshire isn’t here, let’s go up to the nursery and see the children.’

  ‘Must we?’ Amelia asked with a long-suffering sigh. ‘The little monsters show no interest in us.’

  ‘It’s important for us to keep on Lord Amos’s good side. Great men of his ilk can withdraw their support in a heartbeat and then where would we be?’

  ‘Botheration! I wish we had found my husband here alone. If I ask him about our circumstances in the salon, he simply tells me not to worry myself and leaves the room.’ Leona sensed the girl throwing up her arms and felt a degree of sympathy for her plight, despite her self-centred stupidity. ‘If we ever do discuss money, or our lack thereof, he tells me I must take some of the blame since I did not have a large dowry. As if that was my fault!’ Leona nodded, attempting to be fair by agreeing with her. ‘He accuses me of bewitching him with my beauty.’ Leona’s sympathy evaporated. ‘Anyway, I thought that if we tackled him here together in his room, he would have to tell me the truth. He never gets up much before noon, so I was convinced that he would be here.’

  ‘We’ll go to the nursery,’ Mrs Brooke replied, this time with more conviction. ‘Things will work out. You just see if they do not. Now come along, or the children will be having their midday meal and we will be too late to see them.’

  The door opened and then closed again and their voices faded as they walked along the corridor, Amelia still complaining loudly.

  ‘You can let go of me now,’ Leona said, when absolute quiet descended over the bedchamber, but Doran showed no immediate intention of releasing her.

  ‘Ah, now that would be such a pity.’

  ‘Don’t be so ridiculous!’ She pulled out of his grasp and pushed the curtain aside, walking back into the bedroom and relative safety. ‘What did you make of all that?’

  ‘I begin to wonder if Devonshire has simply taken himself off.’

  ‘Deserted his wife and his responsibilities, you mean?’ Leona took a moment to ponder upon what she had initially dismissed as an impossibility. It didn’t take her long to amend her view. ‘Well, I suppose anything’s possible. He could have been taken up by anyone going into Winchester and caught the public coach from there to London. Goodness only knows, I don’t like the man, but I don’t have much respect for those two grasping harridans either,’ she said, nodding towards the door through which Amelia and her mother had just left the room. ‘But if we are right and he is doing Yaris’s bidding, surely he would need to remain here, where I am.’

  ‘Perhaps he has decided that it’s too risky, what with your being so intimately acquainted with the duke. He has been gone an awfully long time, and since he’s not been seen in the Crown, it’s difficult to imagine where else he could be. Anyway, much as I would like to remain here and discuss the matter with you in more intimate detail,’ he said, his eyes sparkling with sensual disobedience that had a most disconcerting effect upon Leona, ‘we had better go back downstairs and let the duke know what we overheard.’

  Leona took a moment to gather her thoughts. ‘What did we overhear, other than to confirm that Mrs Devonshire and her mother are no wiser about Devonshire’s activities than we are?’

  ‘Ah, I see what you mean.’ He chuckled. ‘Something must have interfered with my rationality.’ He glanced back at the alcove from which they had just emerged and chuckled. ‘I cannot think what it could have been.’

  ‘Oh, do stop fooling and behave yourself!’

  ‘Who’s fooling?’ he asked softly, conducting her from the room. ‘And you’re right. All we overheard was a spoiled child and manipulative woman doing their best to exploit their relationship to Lord Amos. I don’t like either of them, but if we tattle on them then in all likelihood Lord Amos will withdraw his support, and I would not have that on my conscience.’

  ‘You have a conscience?’ She glanced up at him with a mischievous smile. ‘This is a day for surprises.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Amos and Adler shared Zach’s frustration when Conroy and Lady Marlowe returned empty-handed from searching Devonshire’s room.

  ‘He knows he isn’t welcome here,’ Amos added, ‘so he would hardly leave anything incriminating lying around.’

  ‘Devonshire has not yet returned?’ Lady Marlowe asked.

  Before Zach could respond, Faraday materialised.

  ‘Mr Conroy’s man would like a word, your grace.’

  ‘Show him in, Faraday.’

  ‘What do you have to tell us?’ Conroy asked when a windswept Tyler joined them.

  ‘He left the village half an hour ago,’ Tyler replied, never a man to use more words than necessary.

  ‘What did he do while he was in it?’ Zach asked.

  ‘We came to the village ourselves, Lord Amos and me,’ Conroy added, ‘but couldn’t find him or you.’

  ‘I followed him to a small cottage at the edge of Shawford, on the road leading to Compton.’

  ‘What the devil was he doing there?’ Lord Amos asked, feeling as perplexed as the othe
rs looked.

  ‘An assignation,’ Tyler replied. ‘He was there for several hours and was waved off by a woman. I was too far away to see her face or guess her age, but judging by her attire she doesn’t deserve to be called a lady.’

  ‘He has a mistress installed nearby?’ Conroy scratched his head. ‘Seems like too much of a coincidence—unless of course it’s no coincidence at all. It would explain why he was so keen to come through Winchester despite the impending storm.’

  ‘An odd place to keep a mistress if he doesn’t live in the area,’ Amos said. ‘It would be far easier to set her up somewhere in London.’

  ‘No, Conroy makes a fair point,’ Zach replied. ‘Think about it. We know that Devonshire is in dun territory, on the verge of losing everything. We also suspect that his marriage is unsatisfactory, at least from his perspective, so he has fixed his interest elsewhere with a view to—’

  ‘To avoid his creditors by taking off with his ladybird,’ Amos finished for him. ‘But why here, of all places? And what the devil will they live on if he’s bankrupt? Ah, of course.’ He sent Lady Marlowe a sympathetic glance. ‘Devonshire is even more in need of your inheritance, or a share of it, than we supposed, if this female expects to be kept in any degree of style.’

  ‘Devonshire is handsome in his way, and his rather obvious charm will appeal to a certain type of lady,’ Adler observed. ‘He has lost interest in his wife but strikes me as the type of man who needs to be admired by a female whose passion he returns.’

  Zach nodded his agreement. ‘Winchester is England’s second city, and close enough to London to make the arrangement convenient.’

  ‘Are you suggesting that he has nothing to do with my problems?’ Lady Marlowe asked. ‘That we have somehow got it wrong.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Amos said. ‘For my part, I rather think he’s deeply involved but too wily to show his hand. I can’t get over the fact that someone was living in the derelict house. Someone connected to your affairs.’

  Lady Marlowe inclined her head. ‘Yes, I keep coming back to that as well.’

  ‘Do we know who owns that cottage on the edge of Shawford, Adler?’ Zach asked.

  ‘I know the agent who takes care of it, your grace, but the owner doesn’t wish his identity to be known. I knew it had been vacant for a considerable time, but I was not aware that it had been let. That must have happened fairly recently, or word would have reached me by now.’

  Zach scratched his head. ‘Most peculiar.’

  ‘Devonshire did nothing else in the slightest bit suspicious, your grace,’ Tyler assured him. ‘I watched the cottage for a while after he left it but there was no movement of any kind. In the end I decided it would be best to return to the tavern, just in case Devonshire had a meeting arranged. He didn’t, though. Didn’t even stop to wet his whistle. He just reclaimed his horse and came back here, so I did the same thing.’

  ‘Thank you, Tyler,’ Conroy said, glancing at the duke with an enquiring look. He shook his head, having run out of questions. Conroy hoped that unlike him, the duke would not also have run out of ideas. ‘Go and get yourself warm.’

  ‘That’s the best suggestion anyone’s made today,’ Tyler said with feeling, not one to stand on ceremony even in the presence of a duke.

  ‘It looks, I’m afraid, as though we shall have to wait for Clarence to report back, and for Max to scare your husband’s cousin into vacating your house, Lady Marlowe.’ Zach held up his hand. ‘I know that isn’t what you want to hear, and I know that you will find the wait frustrating. Even so, I have every faith in both of them, and patience is sometimes required in situations such as these.’

  ‘An express from Lord Romsey,’ Faraday said, entering the room and proffering his salver not to Zach but to Amos.

  ‘Good heavens, Amos,’ Zach remarked, looking amused, ‘what have you done to bring your activities to the attention of the family’s conscience?’

  ‘Whatever makes you suppose I have done anything?’ Amos replied, attempting to appear casual when in actual fact he felt a rush of anticipation. The only reason Clarence would have to write to him would be if he’d found something out about Ariana’s brother’s activities, or at the very least could confirm that he was still alive. Amos longed to be able to offer her good news in that regard. He glanced at Clarence’s letter, aware that the news it contained may not be good, and felt reluctant to open it. ‘This is a personal matter.’ He stood up. ‘Excuse me, gentlemen, if you have no further need of me…’

  Zach shared a perplexed look with Adler and waved Amos away.

  Amos retired to his rooms and sat with the sealed missive on the desk in front of him for a good five minutes before finding the strength to open it. He scanned its contents quickly, barely absorbing them, and then again more slowly. A smile touched his lips as he glanced at the long clock in the corner of his private drawing room. He had suggested riding out with Ariana, and it was almost the agreed time. Now that the days were so short, they rode before the children were brought down, weather permitting, but had been prevented by the snow from doing so for several days. He very much hoped that Ariana would decide to keep the engagement.

  He slipped the letter into his pocket and strode from the room, whistling beneath his breath. A footman flattened himself against the wall before Amos bowled him over, looking startled at his high spirits. Hardly surprising, Amos conceded, well aware that his mood had been dour, not to say downright curmudgeonly, since Crista’s untimely death. But now it felt as though the deep depression he had fallen into had lifted and the desire to live again held him in a firm grasp. He had frequently contemplated giving up on life during the darkest days of his despair, unable to face a future without Crista in it. Had it not been for his children, he very likely might have put an end to himself.

  He was very glad now that he had not done so, and he fancied he could hear Crista’s voice in the darkest recesses of his mind urging him to carry on.

  Amos donned his hat and greatcoat and strode towards the stables. He found Ariana there ahead of him, dressed in the boys’ clothing she always wore in order to ride astride, her ensemble swamped by a thick fur-lined cloak.

  ‘You came,’ he said, grinning at her.

  ‘Of course I came. Cinnamon needs exercise. Like us she has been cooped up inside for too long.’

  ‘I could have wished that you came because you desired my company.’ Amos swung into Falcon’s saddle, sitting perfectly still as the stallion pranced and danced, doing his best to evict Amos from his perch. ‘Behave yourself,’ he chided, unimpressed by the horse’s antics. ‘Not you,’ he added, when Ariana sent him an arch look, probably surprised by his buoyant mood and more so by his flirtatious overtones.

  ‘You are different today,’ she said as they left the yard together, Falcon still swinging his quarters, showing off for the mare.

  ‘Am I not allowed to be happy?’

  ‘I am very glad to see you smiling,’ she replied. ‘It is not good for the children when you only pretend to be cheerful for their sakes. They might be young but they are also sensitive, and when you are unhappy they think they are to blame.’

  ‘Do they?’ Amos’s eyebrows disappeared beneath the brim of his hat. ‘I had no idea they were so perceptive.’

  ‘Charlotte is, but perhaps I give Josh too much credit.’ A delicate smile enhanced her features. ‘He is usually too busy competing with his cousin to take much notice of anything else around him.’

  They found an ice-free path and encouraged their horses forward into a trot and then a steady canter. By the time they reached the end of it, Falcon was behaving in a more seemly manner and the rest of their ride passed with the minimum of conversation. Amos glanced frequently at Ariana, her cheeks warmed by the biting wind and exercise, her exotic green eyes sparkling with a vibrancy that Amos finally allowed himself to admit had always captivated him, even when first meeting her at the height of his despair.

  ‘I need to talk to you,’ he said
, after they had returned their mounts to the stables and walked together back to the house.

  ‘I have to bring the children down shortly. Can it not wait? You have had plenty of time to talk to me this past hour.’

  Amos chuckled. ‘Stop being difficult. This is something you will definitely want to hear.’

  He steered her into the house and then into Frankie’s favoured small salon, aware that she never used it at this time of the day and that they would be assured of privacy. He closed the door behind them and was acutely aware of Ariana, dressed like a boy but impossible to mistake as one, looking up at him with a combination of curiosity and impatience. Her attitude amused him. He hadn’t encouraged any of the many females who’d crossed his path since Crista’s demise. He’d taken absolutely no interest in any of them, despite knowing with unfailing certainty that none would have declined an opportunity to be alone with him. Ariana’s apparent disinterest in him as a man was one of the many things that assured her of his…well, interest.

  He had often been alone with Ariana since she had taken up her duties teaching his children their letters and sums, but those interludes had never been deliberately contrived. This one felt very different because he was no longer the same person. He had emerged from the worst of his debilitating grief and was ready to embark upon the next part of his life, whatever it might bring.

  ‘What is it?’ She looked up at him from beneath an impossibly thick fringe of dark curling lashes, the gesture unintentionally sensuous.

  ‘Sit down,’ he said softly, guiding her to a chair. She threw off her hood and a number of hairpins tumbled down with it. She cursed in Spanish beneath her breath but didn’t attempt to repair the damage. Amos was momentarily transfixed by the sight of a long, spiral curl that fell over her shoulder and covered her breast. He resisted the urge to pick it up and twirl it around his finger, aware that he must tread cautiously with this intoxicating creature who had been scarred by the travails that had dogged her short life. She trusted him, and he would not abuse that trust. ‘I have news of Raphael.’

 

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