The Duke's Bride (The Radcliffe Family Book 1)

by Lindsay Downs

  “And in a few days when you return to town I’ll assign several extra guards to accompany you. As we aren’t sure where these men are hiding out, we will have to take extra protection for your safety,” Simon finished explaining.

  “I do appreciate your care for our wellbeing. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure my wife has woken from her nap and wondered where I disappeared to. It will also give me a chance to start penning the report for you and Bow Street.”

  “Dinner will be at seven, but for obvious reasons I won’t be joining you and Mrs. Stone. Her Grace and Lady Emma will be more than pleased to entertain you both,” Simon said.

  “Thank you.”

  Once his friend left Simon glanced over to his mother and smiled.

  “Am I allowed to handle posts and other estate matters while confined here?”

  “Very simply put, no. You’re to rest and heal. As Emma was able to handle everything until you returned, she’ll resume those duties. And before you say anything we’ve already discussed it. I do promise I’ll make sure you get food and not the gruel or clear soups Cook will try to force upon you,” his mother cheerfully directed to her son.

  “Simon, before you even think of arguing, I won’t be making major decisions regarding this or the other estates without first consulting you. If you do, that will be reported to Laura, who will tell Cook, and you’ll be on gruel for the remainder of your confinement. Do I make myself clear?”

  From the tone and sternness of Emma’s voice, he knew it would be a losing battle to argue with her. Granted, this was one of the many attributes he appreciated about her.

  “Agreed. Now may I rest for a short while as I’m getting tired.”

  No sooner had the ladies departed than two footmen, Simon noticed the same from earlier, entered. He gave them both a scowl which they ignored.

  “I’m sorry, but Her Grace and Lady Emma scare us right now more than you do,” the older one declared.

  As much as he wanted to argue with them, he didn’t. Instead he closed his eyes.

  The sound of voices, one he knew to be Emma’s, drifted into his mind. Opening his eyes, he watched as she directed several footmen to bring in a table and set it at the side of his bed. Next, others followed carrying in trays piled high with covered platters which were placed at one end of the table. Finally, one of the men brought over a chair and placed it opposite the bed. Focusing on her, Simon saw she’d chosen a simple gown in a deep blue which he appreciated.

  “Your Grace, I didn’t wish you to dine alone so with your mother’s knowledge, and approval of the doctor, you are allowed to sit on the edge of your bed while we partake of dinner,” she declared.

  “Thank you, Lady Emma, but you’ll need to leave while I put at least trousers on. As for a shirt that might be a bit difficult with the bandaging of the left shoulder.”

  “That won’t be a problem as Edmond is waiting to help you dress, and my maid, Abby, will chaperone us.”

  Simon waited until she left then waved his valet over. After struggling into a pair of trousers, he wondered if it might be possible to put a shirt on. With assistance from Edmond, Simon slipped his left arm into the sleeve then his right. Waving off a cravat, he settled himself on the edge of the bed.

  “Please invite Lady Emma and her maid in, then disappear until one of us rings for you,” Simon ordered.

  “Yes, and again, I’m still sorry I wasn’t here when you were carried in. I’m afraid I’ll never forgive myself,” the man humbly said.

  “Edmond, how were you supposed to know something untoward would happen to me? Don’t forget, I did send you to the village to collect several new shirts. As for what happened when you returned and learned I’d been shot, for someone never having seen the horrors of war, your reaction is understandable.”

  “Thank you for your kind words.”

  The valet had just stepped out of the ducal suite when Simon watched Emma glide in with a warm, bright smile. Behind her came Abby, grumpy as usual from what Emma had told him. He knew one of these days he’d have to find out why the woman was always so disagreeable or was it him she didn’t like.

  “I’d stand, but it seems I’m forbidden. At least I can eat sitting up and promise if I tire I’ll let you know.”

  “You’d best, for I’ll not tolerate my mistress becoming any more distressed than she was earlier,” Abby snapped.

  A tiny giggle from Emma told him her maid would come down on his head with the rages of a Valkyrie if he upset Emma again.

  After Emma took her seat, while Abby selected one by the fireplace, Simon straightened himself the best he could and lifted the covers from the platters.

  While they dined, Simon explained to an attentive Emma a few of the problems, not so much on this, but others of his estates.

  “I’m not familiar with the one near Cornwall?”

  “That’s one my grandfather acquired years ago from an impoverished baronet. It’s a lovely small and untitled estate but seriously lacking on features. A gazebo or folly. Now that it’s mine, I’m thinking of having Matthew visit and see which would work the best. He’s an architect with the ability to blend a small structure into the surrounding land.” He sliced off a tiny bite of pheasant breast.

  “Yes, I remember him from your father’s funeral. He never mentioned being an architect.”

  Simon did his best to stifle a yawn, but to no avail. He saw Emma watching him.

  “No, tell me about him tomorrow as it seems you need to rest. I am glad you were able to eat, even if it was just a little.”

  Before Simon could answer, he felt himself slowly collapsing backwards.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Early on the third morning after Simon had been shot, Emma and Laura watched the doctor’s traveling coach pass under the courtyard arch. As promised, leading and following were several grooms as extra guards. What had worried Emma was the fact the man hadn’t bothered to look in on Simon since the evening before.

  “He’s mending nicely and should be able to resume his normal activities within the next few days.” This was all he’d told her and the duchess.

  She wasn’t sure about Laura, but those words and the cursory inspection of the wound hadn’t sat well with her.

  “Not to speak ill of the doctor, but he definitely seems to be henpecked,” Emma muttered.

  She and Laura turned and entered the palace.

  “I agree, but it was also being told she couldn’t stroll about the grounds without several footmen for protection. Even sitting on the veranda with one or two nearby seemed to have unsettled her. Have you had a chance to see Simon this morning?”

  “No. With Doctor and Mrs. Stone departing at such an early hour, I was only able to have a cup of tea. With your son, growing stronger every day, I wished to see if he’d like to have breakfast, granted in his suite, by the fire. Of course, you’re more than welcome to join us.”

  “Yes, it would be wonderful to eat with the two of you again. I must say that Mrs. Stone was one of the fussiest eaters I’ve ever seen. It seemed nothing was good enough for her. My dear, I do feel sorry for their cook,” Laura stated.

  “I can only imagine. I don’t know if you heard, but my maid told me the woman even complained about the suite they’d been given. All I can say, is it’s good the doctor and Simon are friends.”

  As they made their way to the second floor, Emma heard Winston climbing the stairs behind them. Waiting until they reached the landing, she took a few steps forward, stopped, and turned. Held in his hand, the ever present salver with a letter placed on it.

  She wondered why she’d not seen it when they waved their guests off, unless it was delivered to the kitchen door. That meant the note would have been brought by a rider not the post coach.

  “M’ lady, this just arrived from London. If I’m not mistaken it’s from Viscount Rathbourne as all the gentlemen have distinctive but slightly different handwriting.

  Emma glanced to the duchess.

/>   “He is the oldest son of Simon’s uncle,” Laura quickly explained.

  She took the proffered envelope and showed it to Laura, who nodded Winston was correct. Emma wasn’t stunned at the quick response since she’d been able to have the same grooms take the letter to Matthew with them to London when they delivered the report to Bow Street. If she was to surmise the same riders brought this answer back.

  “Shall we see to our patient, have breakfast, and read the letter. I’m sure he’s wondering what his cousin’s reply will be,” Emma said.

  “Winston, have three trays brought to the ducal suite. You know what Lady Emma and I prefer. As for His Grace, even though he’s been eating quite well, let’s not overburden him, so coffee, toast, and eggs should suffice,” Laura ordered.

  “I shan’t be long.”

  As the ladies glided into Simon’s suite, Emma glanced to the footmen and dismissed them with a head bob.

  “Good morning, Simon. Did you sleep well?” Emma asked, even though she already knew the answer.

  Last night, after he’d finally drifted off to sleep she, with Abby, snuck back in and kept watch over him. Not surprisingly, she’d dozed off in the chair she had commandeered only to wake just as the sun started to paint the sky a beautiful yellow. They then tip-toed back to her suite, where she fell asleep for several more hours, only to awaken in time to quickly dress and have a few sips of tea before seeing the Stone’s off.

  Stepping over to the foot of the bed, she set the letter on the small desk she had ordered set up for her. With it, she was able to work while Simon slept, read, or gazed longingly, from boredom, out the window.

  “You should know, Emma, since you and your maid spent the night watching over me as I slept off and on. I must say you are adorable when you snore, and your nose scrunches.”

  “I do not snore and if you claim again that I do, you’ll stay in bed for the next three days and live off Cook’s gruel,” she firmly declared, but with Laura giggling, her words came out more of a squeak.

  “If that’s the case, then you don’t. Now, am I allowed to get up and take care of my morning routine, except for shaving?”

  “Yes, you may. When you return here you have our permission to sit in a chair by the fireplace and enjoy breakfast with us,” Emma instructed.

  “Thank you. If you would ring for Edmond to assist me getting dressed, at least in a pair of trousers and dressing gown,” Simon stated.

  When his valet arrived, Emma and Laura stepped out to give him privacy.

  “Instead of standing around like a ninny, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to return to my suite so Abby may redo my hair. I know she was rushed earlier, but now she’ll have the time to do it properly.”

  “Then, shall we see what miracles she can accomplish?”

  Emma was a little stunned Laura wished to accompany her. For what reason she didn’t know, but Emma suspected the duchess wanted to make some suggestion in regards to Simon.

  “Certainly.”

  With linked arms they swept down the south corridor and into Emma’s suite to be met by her lady’s maid.

  “Your Grace, m’ lady, if you’ll take a seat in front of your dressing table, I’ll repair your hair. I do apologize, but as you know we were in a hurry earlier,” Abby uttered.

  “And, Lady Emma, while she does that I wished to discuss this evening. As my son seems to be improving, do you believe he might be strong enough to have dinner with us in the family dining room?”

  Emma tried to reply but wasn’t able to since Abby was running a brush through her hair in an attempt to untangle it. Once she felt the tugging stop, Emma glanced in the mirror at Laura who’d taken a chair near the fireplace.

  “Yes, but he’ll have to rest, but maybe not in his suite. After last night I know he’s going mad seeing the same walls day and night. He also shouldn’t work, which I’m sure he wants to. Do you have a suggestion as to where he could pass the day?”

  “Excuse the interruption. Would a simple chignon suffice?” Abby asked.

  “That would be fine, but tonight something more formal, maybe romantic or teasing. That will give you something to think about.”

  “With Your Grace’s permission, as I’ve never been to London thus not familiar with hair styles, can I talk with your maid for suggestions?”

  “Certainly, but I also know you both have already exchanged ideas.”

  “Thank you, and yes we have. Many will come in handy when Her Ladyship and His Grace set the ton on their collective ear.”

  “If we can return to the more important question at hand, where he could rest. As it’s a beautiful, sunny day, might I suggest the veranda? We could have a daybed set out for him, and he can get fresh air while reading and relaxing,” Emma recommended.

  “And if he’s able to handle that then luncheon there also. After which, he should retire to either his suite or my parlor for the afternoon,” Laura added.

  “Agreed. And if you’re finished pulling, tugging, and twisting my hair, Abby, we’d like to return to His Grace, for breakfast.”

  “Yes, I am, and stop being tetchy with me,” the maid snapped out.

  All Emma could do was roll her eyes, which brought Laura into her sight, and she a scowl on the woman’s face. Emma knew why the glower. Her maids’ attitude. She’d already promised, some day to explain it to Simon, but she would need to tell his mother also.

  “Finally.”

  Emma stood, then, with Laura, swept out of the suite.

  “Abby was not only my nanny but governess, thusly, she knows I, at times, need to be kept grounded and focused. Growing up I was an absolute hellion to the point my parents threatened to send me to a school for young ladies. It was Abby who straightened me out, and when I got old enough for a maid I chose her.”

  “I understand. Does Simon know?”

  “Yes and no. He’s heard her snap at me, but I’ve not told him why she can. I must say though, the look on his face when his jaw dropped open and eyes widened was adorable. I do need to tell him, but right now I’ll wait until he’s stronger.”

  “That’s a smart idea. Now let’s see if he’s decent so we can eat,” the duchess said.

  Emma tittered about hearing him being dressed, even though the word Laura had said was more appropriate, in more ways than referring to attire. Several times, on his sick bed, he’d attempted to steal a kiss, but fortunately had been thwarted at every turn.

  Knocking on the ducal door, Emma heard talking on the other side and was pleased Simon seemed to be in good spirits. Maybe she and Laura would allow him to leave his suite for the fresh air after all.

  When the door opened, Emma saw Simon standing to receive them. What was even more pleasing for her, he’d been able to get a shirt on with a cravat elegantly tied. His trousers were a deep green and well tapered so not to hide his muscular thighs or strong calves. Around his neck, to support his left arm, was a dark-green, paisley sling. Highly polished shoes completed his attire, to which she silently approved. The only contrast to the dapper gentleman before her was several days of beard he still wore. Even though it had been her suggestion to use it as a partial disguise, now she wasn’t sure.

  “Edmond, please inform Winston we’re ready to break our fast,” the duchess ordered.

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Emma watched the valet slip from the room then turned to Laura.

  From the direct tone of the duchess’ voice, Emma knew she wanted to speak privately, with her present, to Simon. She guessed it would be about the same thing she’d been wondering, his beard.

  “Simon, the beard has got to go. We’ll figure out something else to help hide your features if need be.”

  “I agree with your mother,” Emma stated.

  “Then, it goes since it’s starting to itch, which is very annoying. After we eat I’ll take care of it.”

  “Simon, are you sure you’ll be able to with your left arm immobile,” she asked. When her father and later Sim
on’s father had taken to their beds she’d handled that task with ease. Her only question was whether he would trust her with a sharp blade so close to his throat.

  “You do have a point, and from speaking with Edmond, I know he’s never tackled the job. Why, my dear?”

  “Son, I have seen Emma shave your father so I know she’s up to the task. As you said, once we break our fast, with myself as chaperone, she can scrape the whiskers away.”

  “So be it, and we won’t have long to wait as our trays have arrived,” he declared.

  While they ate, Emma presented to Simon the suggestion for the morning. She was pleased he readily agreed. When he asked about reviewing the account journals, she had to be firm with her answer of no.

  “But, let me get the letter from your cousin and see what he says,” she countered, hoping to sooth his hurt feelings.

  Retrieving it from her desk, Emma broke the wax seal, opened it, and handed the note to Simon. She retook her seat and studied him over the lip of her tea cup. When she saw him smile, she knew it was good news. With a glance to Laura, who was also wondering what the letter said, Emma waited for him to finish reading it.

  “Yes, Matthew is more than willing to look over the estate to see where a small and intimate building could be built. Unfortunately, he can’t head south for a couple of weeks as he’s taken a commission north of London. He didn’t go into details, but an earl wishes an orangery built for his future bride. Matthew will be working with the surveyor to find the best elevation for the structure.”

  “That’s good news,” Emma said.

  With breakfast finished, Emma rang for Edmond who quickly appeared.

  “I need a pitcher of hot water and two towels. His Grace is about to lose his beard and has entrusted me with the task,” Emma directed to the man.

  “I expected as much, m’ lady, and have the necessary items waiting outside on the table. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll collect them. Oh and thank you, as I’ve never shaved another.”