“Yes, and I thought it interesting how Lady Dorset handled this evening. She had the boy brought down while his mother was finishing getting ready.”
“I imagine the mother was not happy about that,” he replied.
Gabriel nodded and picked up his brandy. “No, she wasn’t. In fact, I see a battle for control brewing between Mrs. Dawson and Lady Dorset.”
“I hope she’s up to a challenge, because I recall the countess has an acid tongue.”
“I believe the lady can hold her own when it comes to Lady Dorset. I did, however, find something rather peculiar.”
“What’s that?” Parr asked before taking a swallow of brandy.
“I know Roland left to get away from his overbearing mother and egotistical brother. He tried to erase his ties to the nobility and had no interest in his family’s estate.”
“What’s your point?”
“Lady Dorset clearly thinks less of her daughter-in-law because she is a commoner and an American." Gabriel shook his head and picked up a pawn. “No, the countess wants her daughter-in-law to fail.”
“How could you deduce such an outcome from one simple dinner?”
“I know Lady Dorset and how she treated Roland. Timothy was always her favorite because she knew he would one day be earl. She never gave much affection or attention to Roland. He was a mere second son.”
“Who, from what you’ve said, became a very wealthy second son in America.”
“I’m sending my carriage for the boy and his mother in the morning. I’ve got a pony for the boy to learn on. I figured I would use the time wisely and try to get to know Mrs. Dawson better.”
Parr barked out a laugh. “You’ve always been soft for a beautiful woman, which was my next question. How did you find her? Beautiful, ugly, or somewhere in between? You never said.”
“She is beautiful, quite beautiful. She’s also not afraid of speaking her mind.”
“That’s a definite mark against her,” Parr snorted.
Gabriel moved his pawn. “Actually, I found it refreshing.”
Best to leave it at that, or he’d have Parr questioning everything about the woman. He was relentless when it came to finding out information. So he turned the conversation to crops and how they were faring this year. He knew Parr had some of the best wheat crops around. He’d put all his money into this one crop, and it had paid off tenfold.
Gabriel, however, wasn’t interested in crops and how much they did or did not profit. No, he found his thoughts wandering to Mrs. Dawson and how she intrigued him. Bloody hell, it was far more than intrigue. He found himself attracted to her, and that was most inconvenient.
Chapter Five
Savannah awoke to a flash of sunshine piercing the room as the maid opened the heavy drapes. She wasn’t used to having someone wait on her like this. Most mornings, she got herself up and ready for her day. The lady’s maid she did have in America had several tasks, one of them being helping Savannah with her clothing and, of course, tightening her corset. This was going to take some getting used to.
“Has my son had breakfast yet?”
“No, madam. He fussed, wanting to see you, so his governess called on me to awaken you so you could eat together. It usually isn’t done, as the countess will tell you, but you and young Lord Dorset just arrived, and we saw no harm.”
She rubbed her eyes and swung her legs over the side. “Thank you. Where will we be having breakfast, the nursery?”
“Yes, madam.”
“Very well, let me dress. We’re due at the duke’s later this morning. I’ll need to dress appropriately. He’s to introduce Vincent to a pony and meet the stable boy who will be in charge of teaching him to ride.”
“Your pale-yellow muslin is ready and would be quite appropriate.”
Savannah shook her head. “No, we’re going to the stables. The yellow will easily show dirt,” she replied. “What about the brown print?”
“It is ready as well, madam.”
A few moments later, she found herself on her way to the nursery. Her hair was tied back, and she wore a simple gray dress instead. The brown print made her appear too matronly. Yet, it didn’t matter to her how she looked at the moment. Seeing Vincent was far more important. She wanted to see how he was adjusting to his new way of life, which meant things like not spending as much time with her as they had been and having a governess who would be helping to raise him, not that Savannah wouldn’t keep herself apprised of everything that went on in Vincent’s life.
“Mama!” he shouted, running across the room to her as she entered the nursery. “You came!”
She stooped to his level and hugged him. He was holding on to her neck so tightly, Savannah could scarcely breathe. “Come, let’s eat breakfast. We have a busy morning.”
“Yes, we are going to the Duke of Clevedon’s estate to see his horses. I can’t wait,” Vincent said excitedly.
“It was very nice of the duke to invite us. You must remember to thank him before we leave,” she reminded him.
“Oh, I will, Mama.”
She sat at the small table to one side of the room. Breakfast had already been brought up. She began spooning eggs on both plates before adding sausage and toast as Vincent sat patiently waiting. Savannah was about to put a forkful of eggs into her mouth when her son spoke up.
“I don’t like having to be here. There’s no one for me to play with.”
“I explained to you things would be different when we arrived. I also explained why. You must give it some time, Vincent,” she replied. “I’m sure your opinion will change after today.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He appeared dejected, but began to eat his breakfast.
“We’ve talked about this. Many times. You can do this for Papa.”
A couple of hours later, they were on their way to the duke’s estate. It was a marvelous English day, the sky the bluest of blues, with puffy white clouds slowly moving along. It was perfect compared to some of the typical gray days they’d encountered already since their arrival.
The duke’s estate ran alongside the Earl of Dorset’s, making the ride a short one. Savannah marveled at the long drive lined with majestic oaks on either side that appeared as though they’d been there for generations. Beyond that lay lush rolling green hills enclosed on either side by the perimeter wall or smaller fencing to keep livestock enclosed. A couple of black horses lazily grazed, paying no mind to the approaching carriage.
Through it all, Vincent went from one side of the carriage to the other, gazing out at the majestic surroundings. It wasn’t that Sky View wasn’t just as magnificent, but the duke’s estate was simply grander. Savannah quietly mused that if the drive was this beautiful, what must the rest of the gardens and even the house look like?
She didn’t have long to wonder. As they made their way farther up the drive, a large structure appeared. She blinked twice when she realized this wasn’t some mere manor house, but a castle, an actual castle. She closed her eyes again and opened them, trying to make sure they weren’t playing a trick on her. They weren’t.
Rather than stopping at a normal entrance, the carriage continued on through a large opening leading into a common area, a bailey by medieval terms. The carriage came to a stop in front of a massive oak door. Vincent jumped down as soon as the footman opened the door, the curiosity of a seven-year-old getting the best of him. Savannah sighed, deciding to allow her son some freedom to be a boy. His world was beginning to change, and she wanted to make sure the transition was smooth and painless. Soon he would be caught up in his book work and studies and would have time for nothing else. Which was as it should be for a young earl, but Savannah still held on to the belief that boys should be allowed to be boys.
Savannah descended from the carriage just as the door opened and an older gentleman appeared to greet them.
“Good afternoon, madam. If you would follow me...”
Vincent ran up to her, clearly excited by what he saw. “Mama, the duke
lives in a real castle!”
“Yes, he does. Come, you can explore later. Right now, the duke is waiting.”
Vincent carefully sized up the butler. “Good day, I’m Vincent Dawson, Earl of Dorset,” he said with a hint of authority to his young voice.
“Good afternoon, Lord Dorset. It’s very nice to make your acquaintance. I am Simmons, the duke’s butler.” He glanced at Savannah with a hint of a smile. “If you’ll follow me.”
They followed the butler into the darker interior. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust from the bright daylight. She gazed around in awe at the tapestries and portraits that hung on the walls. It was a completely different environment compared to Sky View. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to make further comparisons as the butler led them into a spacious drawing room done in shades of blue, dark blue being the predominant hue. There were landscape paintings, a couple of them reflecting the duke’s obvious love of horses.
“I’ll tell His Grace you’ve arrived,” Simmons said, slipping out of the room.
Savannah found a blue-and-gold-damask chair to sit in and motioned to Vincent to do the same. She knew her son was having a hard time not being able to run around and explore everything. He was a very curious boy, always had been, but he came and climbed up onto a matching chair and sat quietly as he took in his surroundings.
They didn’t have long to wait before the door swung open and the duke walked in. He wore buckskin-colored breeches, tall black boots, and a tweed jacket. His golden-brown hair was tousled from riding without a hat. If it were under any other circumstances, Savannah decided he might be the most perfect man she’d ever laid eyes on.
“Good morning,” he said, nodding to each of them. “I hope you haven’t waited long.”
“Good morning, Your Grace, and no, we haven’t had to wait,” she replied, adding, “Your home is most interesting. I would have never imagined you lived in a castle.”
A hint of a grin crossed his face. “The castle has been in my family for generations. Perhaps you’d like a tour after young Vincent is settled.”
“I would enjoy that, Your Grace. Perhaps you can give me some history as we walk to your stables.”
“Of course. I’d be happy to.”
Vincent, who’d been quiet as a church mouse, finally broke his silence. “Can we go to the stables now, Your Grace?”
Savannah smiled, watching as Clevedon tried not to smile when he must have realized the young man was trying to be serious. “Yes, we can.”
“Where are your stables?” Vincent asked eagerly.
“On the outside of the castle, housed in a separate building. They were built by my grandfather, who’d determined the castle would never be stormed by an enemy again. He decided the stables should be out on their own, for reasons you shall see.”
He guided them back through the grand hall and outside. After crossing what he called a courtyard, they happened upon an oversized door. A footman opened the door, and they made their way onto the path leading up to the stables. The stables consisted of a long, white building, with various smaller paddocks and a gate leading into what Savannah surmised was a pasture.
“I noticed your two black Arabians out front,” she said. “They’re gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” he replied. “I’m using them as part of a new breeding program. They are known for their endurance, which, when crossed with an Irish thoroughbred, should make for a fine specimen.”
She blinked and smiled. Men didn’t normally go into details, especially about a subject most woman might find indelicate, but it was obvious the duke was passionate about his horses.
“Have you ever seen a Friesian or an Andalusian?”
“Yes, I saw Andalusians while I toured Spain some years back. The same with Friesians. They originated in an area of the Netherlands,” he said. “Do you ride, Mrs. Dawson?”
“Yes, I loved to ride through our orchards,” she said before changing the subject back to horses. “Have you ever seen a Palouse? They come from the West and were used by the Nez Perce Indians. They are quite nimble.”
“I’m afraid I’ve never seen one up close. I’ve seen a few portraits at a gallery a few years back, but never in the flesh.”
Vincent ran up to them, having been exploring along the path and having seen the stables as they neared them. It was farther away than Savannah had imagined, but as it came into view, she could see why. It was almost like a working farm on its own.
“Your stables are huge, Your Grace! How many horses do you have?” Savannah exclaimed.
“Quite a few,” the duke said with a smile.
Satisfied with the answer, Vincent once again ran off in search of whatever it was little boys liked.
“He’s a curious child. Smart too.”
“He has been since the moment he learned to walk and was in leading strings.”
The duke bent his head toward her. Savannah hadn’t realized just how tall the man was until then. “How are you coping with turning over most of the boy’s learning to others? I realize it’s an entirely different lifestyle from what he’s used to, so it can’t be easy for you.”
“May I be frank, Your Grace?”
“Of course, by all means.”
“It would go easier if it weren’t for the countess. She has an acid tongue and obviously a distaste for Americans. Or at least our way of life,” she replied. “What I’m trying to say is that she isn’t making it easy for me, but then it’s only been a day, and we hardly know each other.”
He nodded, listening closely. “Hopefully, she’ll warm up once she gets to know you.”
“One can hope.”
They walked along the path in the early summer heat. Everything was perfect, at least for now. As they walked a little farther, the white-sided building housing the duke’s stables came into full view. Once again Savannah felt as though she’d been transported to another time. Stables in America looked nothing like this.
* * *
Gabriel gazed down at the young woman walking next to him. She’d caught him completely off balance, especially this morning. He’d been sure she wouldn’t be able to carry on a proper conversation with a peer since she’d been raised far away from the drawing rooms and ballrooms of England, yet she did it with a graceful ease, a breath of fresh air to him after all the encounters he’d had over the years with young debutantes and their mothers simply out to attract his attention for his title and wealth.
She enjoyed horses, and the two of them had an educated, detailed conversation about them, mainly about the various breeds both here and in America. The Palouse horse she described fascinated him. He’d certainly heard of them, and from what he’d read, he knew that Americans crossbred them with thoroughbreds or other horse breeds built for endurance depending on their needs. He’d never seen one in person as she had.
The short periods of time he’d spent in the company of her young son, Vincent, had also surprised him. Vincent reminded Gabriel of how he and his siblings acted when they were not in their father’s presence, without a care in the world. Though Vincent had been slightly shy on their first meeting the day before, he quickly warmed up to Gabriel.
A young boy walked out into the sunlight leading the dark bay pony Gabriel had found at Tattersalls on his last trip to London. He’d estimated Vincent should get several good years with his new mount, given the pony was larger. He’d had the animal outfitted with a saddle and bridle before having him brought to Brook Fall. Tommy White, son of his stable master, led the pony. He was about fifteen, and, given his age, the young man was a professional around horses, as his father had raised him to be. Tommy, like his father, had an uncanny connection to the beasts.
“Lord Dorset, this is Tommy. He’ll be instructing you on this pony I found for you. Tommy, Lord Dorset.”
“My pleasure, milord,” he said, addressing Vincent.
“Is he mine?” he asked, looking up at Gabriel, and then the pony.
“Yes, he is. Now
, why don’t you follow Tommy. He’ll take you to the paddock, and you can begin your first lesson.”
He nodded and happily skipped beside Tommy and the pony as they turned to walk to a paddock used for training.
“He’s beautiful, Your Grace. You really shouldn’t have,” Savannah said as she fondly watched her son.
“Every boy needs to learn how to ride and therefore should have his own pony.”
Savannah nodded. She wasn’t wearing a bonnet like most women would, and for a second, he imagined what the countess might say upon seeing Savannah outdoors in the direct sunlight.
“He’s pestered me for a pony for the past two years, but I thought he was too young, and there wasn’t anyone I felt comfortable with to teach him to ride.”
“Young Tommy will be perfect for him. His father is my stable master, and the boy has been around the stables since he was out of leading strings.”
He observed her as she enthusiastically watched her young son. Her full lips curved up into a smile, and her haunting blue eyes took everything in. “I have no doubt Vincent is going to flourish here. In the past two days he’s been happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.”
“Since his father died?” Gabriel inquired. “The countess has never really said much about Roland’s death, so I’m afraid I’m at a disadvantage. The only thing I know is that his ship disappeared.”
“Yes, his ship disappeared on a trip to a sugar plantation he had recently purchased. No sign of the ship was ever found, but the vessel never reached its destination.”
“I understand storms can be quite wicked in that area.”
“Yes, that’s what Roland said once. The vessel belonged to his small fleet of cargo ships.”
Gabriel shook his head as they stopped at the paddock fencing. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. I finally had him declared dead by the courts after two years, once it was evident his ship had been lost at sea.”
“Had something been found?”
“Yes. A piece of wood from one of the lifeboats. The plank of wood had the name of the ship on it,” she replied. “That was sufficient enough for a judge, and my father thought it best I move on.”
Wish Upon a Duke Page 4