The Duke Comes Home

by Barbara Cartland

  She laughed because it sounded so funny, but the Birds just looked at her with a worried expression in their eyes and she knew that they were apprehensive, as she was, of the Duke.

  “Have you some eggs, Mrs. Bird?” Ilina asked.

  ‘There’s three, miss,” Mrs. Bird replied. “I was keepin’ one for your supper – ”

  “Make an omelette,” Ilina interrupted, “and I hope you will find that there is some cheese left or perhaps you could make a pudding of some sort.”

  She did not wait for Mrs. Bird to protest that it was impossible, but looked at Bird to say,

  “Go down to the cellar as quickly as you can and bring up a bottle of claret and another of sherry or Madeira. There might even be a bottle of port.”

  “I doubt it. My – miss,” Bird said, shaking his head.

  Then without saying anything more as Ilina left he shuffled slowly along the passage towards the pantry, where the key of the cellar hung on a baize-covered board, while Ilina went up to her bedroom.

  Anticipating the Duke’s return, she had moved from the State room near her father’s where she had slept all the time he was ill and had taken over the schoolroom on the other side of the house.

  The bedroom where she had slept for so many years after she had left the nursery made her feel happier and more protected than in any other room in the house.

  In these three rooms she had collected all the things that she believed were hers and which, if she was sent away from The Abbey, she was determined to take with her.

  There was her mother’s writing table and an inlaid French secretaire that she had brought with her when she married.

  There were pictures that had been painted or drawn of her mother when she first married and a sketch of her father drawn by the artist prior to painting the large portrait of him that now hung in the dining room.

  But more precious than anything else was a portrait of David in his uniform.

  He looked very handsome and dashing with a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes which, when she looked at him, made Ilina feel as if he was speaking to her.

  None of these were particularly valuable, but each one meant a great deal to her and she knew that these were her own treasures, which she would let no one ever take from her.

  As she entered her bedroom, she flung down the apron she was carrying and the muslin that had covered her head and ran to the mirror to look at herself.

  She was horrified at how untidy her hair was and remembered that she had planned before the Duke arrived to brush it back from her forehead to make her look intellectual and certainly older than she actually was.

  ‘If I was really a Curator, he would expect me to be at least over thirty,’ she thought and tried various ways to make herself look older.

  Now with her fair hair rioting in little curls round her forehead and arranged only loosely at the back of her head, she thought that she had been very reprehensible in having grown careless because the Duke had waited so long before he had put in an appearance.

  She brushed her hair smoothly and twisted it into a tight chignon at the back of her head.

  She stuck in the hairpins so hurriedly that several times she hurt herself.

  Then she rushed across the room to take a dress from a wardrobe that she had altered in readiness for this particular occasion.

  It was a gown that had belonged to her mother of green crêpe. It had at first been a crinoline, but now that these were out of fashion, Ilina had pulled back the full skirts into the semblance of a bustle leaving the front plain and she hoped much more severe.

  The gown fastened at the neck and she had added a neat white muslin collar and small muslin cuffs to the sleeves.

  She was now quite certain when she had it on that she looked older than she had before.

  But she was not aware that the colour of the gown threw into prominence the dazzling whiteness of her skin and the gold of her hair and seemed to reflect in her eyes that it had gold lights in them like the bottom of a clear stream in the sunlight.

  As she fastened the cuffs over her small wrists, she told herself that now she looked exactly as a Curator or perhaps a Librarian should.

  With only a perfunctory glance in the mirror, she hurried downstairs again hoping that by this time Bird would have brought up the sherry from the cellar.

  She found him in the pantry struggling to open the bottle, which was dusty with age.

  As he drew out the cork, Ilina hurriedly took a small silver salver from the safe, which was open, put a wine glass onto it and found a decanter on the shelf that Bird could pour the sherry ointo.

  “I ought to change, miss,” he said as he filled the decanter and put in the stopper.

  “Yes, you must,” Ilina agreed. “I will take the sherry in for His Grace. Change and then lay the table for one.”

  “You’ll not be eatin’ with His Grace?”

  “No, of course not,” Ilina replied. “Don’t forget. Bird, I am only the Curator and you know he never ate at the same table as Grandpapa.”

  “That be true, miss.”

  “I will come and help Mrs. Bird in the kitchen,” Ilina said, “but don’t let him know that I am there.”

  “It’s not right, it’s not right, my Lady!” Bird began, muttering beneath his breath.

  “Miss!” Ilina said frantically. “Promise me that you will not forget that I am ‘Miss Ashley’.”

  She picked up the silver salver as she spoke and started to walk from the pantry across the hall.

  She could not run with the sherry in her hands. But she felt because she was agitated that her breath was coming quickly and her heart was pounding as she reached the study.

  As she walked into it, she saw to her surprise that the Duke was sitting at what had been her father’s desk and was going through the drawers.

  There were several pieces of paper in front of him on the blotter that were embellished with the Tetbury Coat of Arms in gold and after a second’s resentment at what he was doing Ilina remembered that he was entitled as the new Duke to do anything he wished.

  “I am sorry to have taken so long, Your Grace,” she apologised, “but the butler had to fetch the sherry from the cellar and luncheon is now being prepared for you.”

  She put the salver down on the desk in front of him and said,

  “As Your Grace did not give us notice of your arrival, you will, of course, understand that the meal will therefore not be a very substantial one, but I will try to arrange for Your Grace to have a better dinner.”

  She had spoken without thinking and the Duke enquired,

  “You will arrange? Am I to understand, Miss Ashley, that you are in charge here?”

  “When the late Duke died,” Ilina replied, “there was no one else to see to anything either inside or outside the house. So Mr. Wicker, the Solicitor to the estate, asked me to do what I could to keep the place in running order until Your Grace’s arrival.”

  The Duke stared at her.

  “Am I to understand,” he asked in a slightly ominous voice, “that there is no money to run the house and the estate with?”

  “I am sure that Your Grace will wish to see Mr. Wicker as soon as possible.”

  “But in the meantime I imagine that you can answer my questions.”

  “The answer,” Ilina said slowly, “is that, when the late Duke died, he was to all intents and purposes bankrupt.”

  Because she disliked the way the Duke was speaking, she hoped to surprise him and succeeded.

  He stared at her as if he could not believe that she was telling him the truth. Then after a moment he said,

  “It cannot be possible! I have always imagined from what I had been told by my father that the place was kept in great style and that the last Duke lived as befitted his rank.”

  “That was true until about the last ten years of his life.”

  “How can you know that?” the Duke asked unexpectedly. “You can hardly have been here then.”


  Ilina thought quickly and then she said,

  “As it happens, Your Grace, I was. My father served the Duke and I have lived on the estate ever since I was a child.”

  “Then I presume you can answer my questions. Have you any idea where the money has gone that should be keeping up both the house and the estate?”

  “My father always said,” Ilina replied, “that it was a question mostly of bad investments and of extravagances on the part of the third Duke.”

  “So what is left for me?” the Duke demanded bluntly.

  Because of the almost contemptuous way he spoke, Ilina felt her temper rising.

  Then she knew, as she looked at him, that she disliked the man who had arrived without any warning and without consideration for anybody else’s feelings but his own.

  Also he was apparently assessing what he had inherited only in terms of money without there being any sentiment or feelings about his new position.

  “The answer to that, Your Grace,” she said quietly and in a controlled voice, “is one of the most beautiful and historic houses in England and an estate that has belonged to your ancestors since the time of Queen Elizabeth. In other words for over three hundred years!”

  She felt as she spoke that the Duke was surprised and there was no doubt that his voice was sarcastic as he responded,

  “Thank you, Miss Ashley, for putting it so precisely. I am well aware of what you are expecting me to feel.”

  Ilina did not reply and he went on,

  “At the same time you must appreciate that it is somewhat of a shock to find instead of a house filled with servants and running smoothly like a well-oiled machine, what I can see at a glance needs a great deal of money spent on it. And I imagine the land is in the same condition unless the farms have been in more competent hands.”

  Ilina felt herself stiffen before she managed to reply,

  “It would perhaps have been wise, Your Grace, if when you were informed over a year ago that you would be the next Duke, you had made enquiries about the family inheritance or even better to have returned here to see the late Duke before he died and have some idea of what was needed.”

  The Duke did not speak and after a moment she went on,

  “I understand that Lady Ilina wrote to you asking you to come back to England.”

  “Where is Lady Ilina? I wish to see her,” the Duke snapped.

  “I am afraid that her Ladyship has left for the North of England where she is staying with relatives.”

  “I suppose I can get in touch with her?”

  “If that is your wish, I will endeavour to find her address,” Ilina answered.

  There was silence.

  Then the Duke said,

  “Now that I am here, I had better know the worst and, as I understand that you are in sole charge of the household, perhaps you will be kind enough to tell me of what it consists.”

  “It consists,” Ilina answered, “of Bird, who has been here for over thirty-five years as the butler, Mrs. Bird who is the cook and Emily, who is very old, over eighty, and helps in the house when she is well enough to do so. And, of course, myself.”

  There was silence and then, as the Duke looked at her as if he could hardly believe what she had said, he asked,

  “Is that all? Are you telling me the truth?”

  “There is no reason, Your Grace, why I should deceive you.”

  “Who is in charge of the estate?”

  There was a distinct silence before Ilina answered,

  “As there is no Agent or manager, I have been looking after it for the time being. The only men employed are Jacobs, the Head Groom, although he has no one under him, and Williams, who was Head Gardener, but is at the moment crippled with arthritis, although he should be able to do a little more when the weather turns warmer.”

  “I cannot believe it!” the Duke exclaimed.

  He brought his clenched fist down on the table to say,

  “Why the hell was I not informed of this state of affairs?”

  “You were,” Ilina retorted angrily. “As I have told Your Grace, Lady Ilina wrote to you and asked you to come home.”

  “Because her letter was addressed to the wrong place and I was in a different country, I finally received it only about two weeks before I learnt of the Duke’s death. Surely somebody with any sense could have communicated with me earlier than that?”

  “But you must have been aware after the death of the Marquis that – you were the – heir presumptive?”

  Although she was not aware of it, there was a distinct tremor in her voice as she spoke of David.

  It was always agonising to realise that she would never see him again and that the house he had loved and had meant so much to him was to go to a stranger.

  Despite the fact that she was feeling angry with him, Ilina thought that in a way she could understand the shock her revelations had been to the new Duke.

  If, as she suspected, he had no money, it must be horrifying to find that his new possession would be nothing more than a millstone round his neck, dropping him into a deeper financial despondency than he might be in already.

  ‘No man could look as he does if he was prosperous,’ she thought.

  In a softer and more gentle voice than she had used before she said,

  “I am sorry if it all seems so disappointing, but I promise you that, while there was nothing that could be done until you returned, now you are back, I think money can be raised in one way or another at least to make things a little better than they are now.”

  There was a pause before the Duke said almost grudgingly,

  “As you appear to be the only person who I can discuss these things with, you had perhaps better tell me how you think I can raise money when everything, unless I am very much mistaken, is entailed onto a son I do not yet possess?”

  Because there was a sarcastic note in his voice, Ilina felt that she disliked him more every moment they were together.

  “Perhaps, Your Grace,” she replied, “it would be best to wait until you have had luncheon to learn the whole sad story. My Nanny always told me that things seem worse on an empty stomach.”

  For the first time there was a smile on the Duke’s lips as he replied,

  “I can remember my Nanny saying exactly the same. But because I am a very practical methodical person, Miss Ashley, I doubt very much if what you have to tell me will be any more palatable after the meal than before it.”

  “I hope you are mistaken about that,” Ilina answered, “and you have not yet tried the sherry, which I hope will please Your Grace.”

  She took the stopper out of the decanter as she spoke and filled up the glass that stood beside him.

  “Will you join me?” the Duke asked surprisingly.

  “No, thank you. And while Your Grace is drinking this, I will go and see if your luncheon is ready.”

  “I should have thought the butler might have announced it,” the Duke replied.

  She pretended not to hear him and went from the room to run down the passage once again as hastily as she could to the pantry.

  “Is luncheon ready?” she asked.

  “It will be, in a minute or two, my L – miss,” Bird answered, stumbling once again over the way he addressed her.

  Ilina was, however, already hurrying on to the kitchen.

  She knew that Mrs. Bird was a very good cook when she had the correct ingredients. At the same time, when Mr. Wicker had given her just enough money to keep them from starving during the weeks they had been waiting for the Duke, there had been no surplus for luxuries.

  She had planned when the Duke did arrive to have a leg of lamb in the house and perhaps one or two young pigeons, which were always available at this time of the year.

  “Can you manage, Mrs. Bird?” she asked.

  “It’s not what a gentleman would expect,” Mrs. Bird said, “but I’ve made His Grace some soup from that rabbit we had yesterday and there’s the omelette, which will be ready be
fore he’s finished his soup and then a bite of cheese.”

  She paused for breath before she went on,

  “There’s no time for me to make a puddin’ and I meant to tell your Ladyship yesterday that we’ve run out of rice and there’s not been sight nor sound of a ripe gooseberry in the garden yet.”

  Ilina blamed herself for not having looked at the gooseberry bushes instead of leaving it to Mrs. Bird.

  She was quite certain that there would be some gooseberries, even though they were agonising to pick because the bushes were overgrown and, having fought one’s way through the weeds and brambles, one was then scratched by the bushes. She had found it easier to say that she did not particularly like them.

  ‘Why,’ she asked herself angrily, ‘could he not have let us know he was coming so that something could have been prepared?’

  To Mrs. Bird she said,

  “I am sure it will be a delicious luncheon, Mrs. Bird. I will make out a list of what you will require for dinner tonight and Jacobs can ride to the village to fetch it.”

  Mrs. Bird did not reply and Ilina added,

  “When he goes to the village, he must ask Gladys to come up to give you a hand. I am sure that His Grace can afford to pay her and perhaps we could ask her to help tomorrow until I have things straightened out.”

  As she spoke, she wondered if the Duke could afford Gladys or anybody else, but there was no use in worrying the Birds with this problem.

  She was only praying that things would not prove to be as bad as she suspected and, if they were, what could she do about it?

  *

  Back in the study, her cheeks a little flushed from her haste, Ilina spoke to the Duke,

  “Luncheon will be ready in a few minutes and I hope Your Grace will enjoy it. But I do warn you there is not a great deal to eat in the house, although I promise that things will be better by dinnertime.”

  The Duke looked at her and then asked,

  “Are you intending to have luncheon with me, Miss Ashley?”

  “No, of course not, Your Grace. I eat in my own room.”

  And then she added,