The Duke Comes Home

by Barbara Cartland

  She laughed and for the first time since she had heard her father’s will there was a light in her eyes as she said,

  “After all it will be an adventure and a change from the dismal monotony of the last two years.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Ilina was mending one of the curtains in the Duke’s study.

  The lining had split near the ground so she was sitting on the floor stitching it back into place afraid that even her delicate sewing would make the material, which was old and fragile, split again.

  Because the curtains were becoming dusty she was wearing a housemaid’s overall over her gown and a piece of white muslin tied over her hair.

  She was thinking as she worked that this room at any rate, which was the only that one she kept open, looked attractive.

  There were two huge vases of daffodils, which she had picked the day before, and which had just come into full golden bloom, and the sunshine illuminated the pictures on the wall, the china and the fine old furniture that she polished whenever she had the time.

  In this room, which had been known for generations as the ‘Duke’s study’, there were portraits of the first four Dukes of Tetbury, while her father’s portrait hung in the dining room.

  Every Duke had been painted when he had inherited The Abbey and the most impressive and elaborate was the picture of the second Duke, who had hidden the Nizam’s jewels.

  Because, as Ilina told herself, he had been very conscious of his own importance he had taken the best place behind the huge flat-topped Georgian desk and his frame was more elaborately finished than those of the other Dukes.

  In fact he was the only one surmounted with the Ducal strawberry-leafed coronet and his name was embellished at the base of the picture on a scroll that was held up by small gilded angels.

  Because now she found herself often thinking of him, she was wondering if he realised how drastically the house had been altered since his return to it from India and what the present Duke would think when he arrived.

  Or rather if he ever arrived, which she could not help thinking desperately might never happen.

  It was not three months since her father’s death and there had been no message from him and she had no idea if he was coming back to England or not.

  Mr. Wicker who had written to inform him of her father’s death had received a letter from his Bank Manager in Calcutta informing him that the letter he had written to Mr. Sheridan Bury would be handed to him at the first possible opportunity.

  “This makes me think,” Mr. Wicker said, “that perhaps the new Duke is not in Calcutta or even in India.”

  “Then where is he likely to be?” Ilina asked.

  Mr. Wicker shrugged his shoulders.

  “I have no idea, Lady Ilina. Although there is little substance for my thinking it, during the years that he has been abroad Mr. Bury has travelled to many parts of the East and now for all we know he may be in China or in Timbuktu!”

  They both laughed and then in a different tone of voice Ilina had asked,

  “How are we to exist until he returns?”

  “I have discussed that question with my partners,” Mr. Wicker replied, “and we think it only right as Solicitors to the estate that we should pay the pensions until His Grace arrives and advance you a little money in order to pay the wages of Mr. and Mrs. Bird and to buy food for them and yourself.”

  “And Pegasus!” Ilina added quickly.

  “Naturally Pegasus is included,” Mr. Wicker replied gravely.

  “It is very kind of you, Mr. Wicker. I hate to impose on you in this way, but I do not see that there is anything else I can do. You know as well as I do that the Birds would starve if we did not look after them.”

  Mr. Wicker sighed before he said,

  “I discussed with my partners whether it would be possible to sell something that would at least cover your immediate requirements, but they considered that it would be illegal without the new Duke’s knowledge or permission.”

  “I can accept that and it was very understanding of you to think of it.”

  Ilina smiled before she added,

  “I cannot think what I should have done without you, Mr. Wicker. You have been a tower of strength ever since Papa became so difficult.”

  Mr. Wicker looked embarrassed by her praise.

  And then she said in a small voice,

  “Supposing the Duke – never returns? Or prefers to – stay out East?”

  “If he does, then he will have to make some arrangements about the estate,” Mr. Wicker said quickly. “But there is no point, Lady Ilina, in meeting trouble halfway.”

  “No, of course not,” Ilina agreed. “But I cannot help worrying about the future.”

  “Once again,” Mr. Wicker answered, “I must beg you to be frank with the Duke when he arrives and tell him who you are. He must be made to understand that you are his responsibility.”

  “That is something I have no wish to be. I have already persuaded the Birds to address me as ‘miss’ rather than ‘my Lady’ and I am sure if I play the part well, I shall have a job for a few months at any rate. Then I shall have to think again.”

  Mr. Wicker’s lips parted as if he would argue with her.

  Then, because he knew it was hopeless he could only think, as he had thought so often before, that any man, if he had any decency, would instinctively want to protect and look after anyone so beautiful and helpless.

  At the same time, as the weeks passed and there was no sign from the Duke, even he began to feel that perhaps the shortcomings which had been attributed to him by his predecessor were correct and he was not concerned with his responsibilities in England, but only with the life that he was clearly enjoying in other parts of the world.

  Because Ilina was determined that, if the Duke did arrive, he would gain the best impression possible of the house and she had spent all her energies on trying to make it look attractive.

  She repaired the more dilapidated curtains and hid by moving the furniture around, the places where the carpet had become so threadbare that one could see the bare boards.

  The house was so large that she often felt that she was like the small Dutch boy who had put his finger in the hole in the dyke to hold back the floodwaters.

  It seemed to her that no sooner had she done one room and started on another than the cobwebs were gathering in the first and the dust was grey on the floor.

  She had been obliged during her father’s lifetime, when he had been confined to his bed, to shut up the State rooms.

  The Silver Salon, which had been the most remarkable achievement of the first Duke’s restoration, was shrouded in Holland sheets.

  So was the Red Drawing Room, the writing room, the Duchess’s Drawing Room, the Picture Gallery, the card room, the Music Room and a whole number of other small rooms that no one had ever thought of a name for them.

  She kept open the huge Baronial Dining Room because the pantry was next door to it and the kitchen was not so far away as it was from any other room.

  Sometimes when she sat alone at the large table, which could seat thirty with ease, she would imagine it peopled by beautiful ladies in elaborate gowns and gentlemen wearing glittering decorations on their evening coats.

  She would imagine herself joining in witty vivacious conversation and holding her own.

  Sometimes in her fantasy there would be a dark handsome man whose eyes would meet hers and it would be difficult for either of them to look away.

  Then, as she finished the one dish that her meal consisted of, she had carried it back to the kitchen and given the plate to Mrs. Bird to wash it up.

  It was easier to do this than to have old Bird, who was getting very slow, shuffling around the table and taking so long to serve her or fetch the spoon he had forgotten that the food was cold.

  “I am sure you have enough to do, Bird,” she would say, “so today I will wait upon myself.”

  Because she did this every day it was just a formality to
save the old man’s face and he would reply,

  “It’s very kind of your Ladyship. I’ve the silver to clean.”

  If it was not the silver, which remained year in and year out in the safe, he would occasionally reply by saying that he had to go to the cellar.

  As there was very little wine left and Ilina never drank anything but water, she hoped that when the Duke did come Bird would remember which bins contained the claret and which the white wine, if indeed there was anything left of either.

  After the first few weeks following her father’s death, when she had expected the new Duke every day, she had begun to think that he was just a myth like the Nizam’s jewels and would never turn up.

  She busied herself in The Abbey and saw nobody except for the old servants and occasionally Mr. Wicker.

  The few neighbours they had did not call because she was in mourning, although, if ever they had attempted to be friendly during her father’s lifetime, he had either refused to see them or if he did would be extremely rude.

  “For all the people I see,” Ilina had said to Mr. Wicker laughingly, “I might as well be on a desert island!”

  It was in fact the truth.

  But in her own way she was happy, far happier than when her father had been swearing and shouting at her and had kept her running about from first thing in the morning until last thing at night.

  His valet, who had been with him for nearly forty years, had stayed on out of loyalty to the family and especially to Ilina.

  But once the funeral was over he had told her that he wished to retire and had arranged to live with his brother, who had a small business in the nearest town about seven miles away.

  “I can work when I feels like it, my Lady,” he said to Ilina, “but otherwise. I’ll put me feet up.”

  “That is what I hope you will do, Watkins. You have been marvellous and I could never have managed Papa without you. I shall miss you greatly.”

  “And I’ll miss you, my Lady.”

  “I only wish I could reward you for all your kindness and for everything you have done these past years,” Ilina said in a low voice, “but as you know, I have no money at the moment. If I ever do find the Nizam’s jewels, then I promise that you will be the very first person who will benefit.”

  “That’s very kind of your Ladyship,” Watkins replied, “but I’ll be all right. My brother’ll look after me, though I’m not sayin’ as how I wouldn’t have liked to have saved a bit, seein’ as I’ve been in service since I were twelve.”

  “It is absolutely wrong that Papa should not have left you something in his will,” Ilina said, “but – ”

  “Now don’t you go worryin’ yourself,” Watkins interrupted. “When your ship comes home, my Lady, or you find them jewels, which I very much doubts, then I’d just like to hear about it for old time’s sake.”

  “I promise you that you shall,” Ilina replied.

  When she said ‘goodbye’ to him and watched him drive away in the carrier’s cart, a shabby little old man with only a small battered trunk that contained all his worldly possessions, she felt the tears gather in her eyes.

  ‘How could Papa have forgotten him?’ she asked.

  She was determined, if she did nothing else, to extract some money from the new Duke both for Watkins and for the Birds.

  They had been at The Abbey for nearly as long as Watkins had and they had been there long before Ilina was born and Bird had risen from being knife boy to pantry boy and from pantry boy to footman before finally he became butler.

  ‘This is their home too,’ Ilina told herself.

  She knew that if the new Duke sent them away they would feel as if they had lost everything that was familiar and dear to them.

  The rooms they occupied off the kitchen contained the few personal objects that they had accumulated down the years.

  There was the first present that Ilina had given Mrs. Bird when she was four and had drawn her a picture of the house with two Noah’s Ark figures standing in front of it, which were meant to be Bird and his wife.

  There was a little purse that she had knitted another year and laboriously sewn onto it a button so that it could be closed.

  There were things that Bird had collected, such as a fox’s brush that her father after a particularly good hunt had had mounted and then in a fit of unusual generosity had given to Bird as a souvenir.

  There was the first bow and arrow he had made for David, which he had later discarded in favour of a gun.

  Bird had also preserved his first cricket bat and the ball, which had gone through the greenhouse for which misdemeanour he had been severely punished.

  There were dozens of small things that Ilina knew had made the Birds feel that they were part of the family.

  She had lain awake at night wondering frantically how she could explain their importance to the Duke.

  ‘It will be easier for me to ask for money if he does not think I am family,’ she told herself, ‘and therefore trying to get something personal out of him.’

  Even as she thought of it the idea made her hackles rise and as the days and weeks went by without her hearing from the Duke she began to hate him as her father had done.

  She finished mending the lining and realised as she cut off the thread that the braid on the edge of the curtain also needed attention.

  She looked at the clock on the mantelpiece and was thinking that she just had time to mend it when the door opened.

  She thought that it must be Bird coming in to tell her that it was one o’clock.

  Then to her surprise a man entered the room and looked round it until he saw her sitting on the floor staring at him.

  Ilina was wondering if she had seen him before and if she should ask him what he wanted, when sharply in a voice that was authoritative and at the same time had a note of irritation in it, he asked,

  “Where are the servants? There appears to be nobody about, not even in the kitchen!”

  “There should be somebody there,” Ilina replied. “What do you want?”

  “Why are there no footmen in the hall?” the newcomer demanded in the same sharp almost aggressive tone of voice.

  “Footmen?”

  “My father told me that there were always several on duty.”

  It suddenly struck Ilina that this must be the new Duke and for a moment she could not believe it.

  For one thing he did not look in the least like what she had expected, thinking that because he was a relation he would have some resemblance to David or to her father.

  Instead he was taller, more broad-shouldered and had a handsome but unusual face in which she could see no resemblance to any of the other members of the family.

  His hair was dark and his eyebrows, perhaps because he was annoyed, seemed almost to meet across his forehead. And there was something alert and vital about him that was different.

  What was more, his clothes, which he wore casually as if they were of no consequence, were certainly not those of a gentleman of standing.

  One glance told her that whatever else he might be, the new Duke was not a rich man.

  Because his question remained unanswered and so she said after a perceptible pause,

  “There have not been footmen in the hall for at least ten years.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because there has been no money to pay for them.”

  The new Duke frowned and it made him look more ferocious than he did before.

  Slowly Ilina rose to her feet trying to think of what she must say and how she must behave.

  Because she was quite certain from the way he had spoken that he thought her to be the servant she appeared to be, she took off her apron and removed the piece of muslin that had covered her hair.

  “Who are you?”

  By the time this question arrived, Ilina had had time to remember the part that she had decided to play.

  Carrying the apron over her arm she walked towards him to say,

  “I t
hink you must be the new Duke. Welcome, Your Grace, to Tetbury Abbey.”

  She dropped him a small curtsey as she spoke and added before he could reply,

  “My name is Jane Ashley and I am at the moment the Curator.”

  “And in addition to those duties,” the Duke remarked, “you also mend the curtains?”

  “There is nobody else to do so, Your Grace.”

  He looked at her, she thought, as if he suspected that she was not telling him the truth and then he said,

  “Now I am here, I think the best thing for me to do is to see the housekeeper or whoever is in charge of the house and after that perhaps you would oblige me by sending me the Estate Manager.”

  Ilina repressed a smile before she replied,

  “Certainly, Your Grace. But perhaps first you would like some refreshment? And I presume you will be staying for luncheon?”

  “Naturally,” the Duke answered as if he thought that she was being impertinent.

  “Then before I do anything else, perhaps it would be wise for me to inform the cook of Your Grace’s intentions, although I am afraid that the meal will be very sparse.”

  Without waiting for the Duke to reply, Ilina went from the room closing the door behind her.

  Only when she was outside did she start to run as swiftly as she could towards the kitchen.

  There was no sign of either Bird or Mrs. Bird and she supposed that, as the Duke had found the kitchen empty, they would be sitting in their private room, resting before the strenuous task of cooking an egg or whatever else might be available for her luncheon.

  She burst in on them to say,

  “His Grace has arrived and he is expecting luncheon. Oh, Mrs. Bird, what can we give him to eat?”

  Mrs. Bird heaved herself with difficulty out of her armchair.

  “The new Duke, my Lady, I mean miss. Well, better late than never, that’s what I always says.”

  “I should have been in the hall,” Old Bird said, rising from the table where he had been sitting while he cleaned several small silver teaspoons.

  “How could you have known that he was arriving today after all this time of waiting?” Ilina asked. “And would you believe it, His Grace enquired why there were no footmen in attendance in the hall.”