He sealed them with the ducal seal, for he had no other with him, although he remembered not to frank them, took them all to the mail office on the inn’s ground floor and left them to catch the night mail coach.
The next morning, after again receiving assistance in dressing from Mr Neate, he rode with Captain Edgerton for company across the furze-spattered downs to Pendower. It was a nondescript fishing village, one of scores such along the southern Cornish coast, with a single road winding down into the bay where the bulk of the cottages huddled around the inn, and a few better dwellings on higher land. Pendower House, Ran was surprised to see, was the largest of them, three stories built of mellow stone with sizable gardens about it, and a ring of trees sheltering it from storms. A groom came to take his horse, and the door was opened to him by a liveried manservant. Clearly he was expected, for he was shown directly into a book room. The manservant offered him refreshments, and when he refused, left him alone in the room.
He was not alone for long. One by one the other inhabitants of the house came in, greeting him with friendly openness. “Are you really Jon’s brother?” one of the children said, wide-eyed. “Tell us about the great big house he owns,” said another. The adults asked with interest about travel arrangements and the House of Lords and whether Ger would be in trouble for hiding away for so long.
And most of all they asked about Ginny Chandry. Would she have servants to wait on her? Would she have her own carriage? Would she go to London and meet the Queen? They were not questions Ran felt he could answer. Lord Carsham, with whom Ran had stayed the previous year, understood the difficulty and turned all such questions aside.
Ginny’s older brother, Michael, who had a roguish eye and a great deal of charm, said, “Is it true there are sixty horses at Valmont, my lord? So Jon said, and all of them prime blood. I should dearly like to see that!”
“That was a few years ago, when my sisters were still at home and some of the cousins, too, and the stables were full of hunters. I should be surprised if we have much above thirty beasts now.”
“Thirty…” he said, his eyes round with desire. “And stabling enough for a hundred! How many grooms?”
“Currently eleven, as well as the coachmen and the smith and his boy, but we are sadly understaffed at the moment.”
“A smith… you have your own smithy!”
“We have everything — brewery, dairy, bakery, apiary, poultry-yard, butchery, stew ponds, laundry, ice-house, mill. The home farm, of course. We are sufficient to ourselves in all our food needs, apart from what the sea provides.”
“How many servants?”
“Altogether? Indoor and outdoor, one hundred and two at present, including the gamekeepers and land managers, but excluding the farm.”
“But you are sadly understaffed, of course,” Michael said, eyes crinkling with laughter.
“Dreadfully so,” Ran said, chuckling. “How we contrive, I cannot imagine.”
He was half afraid that the fellow would want to accompany them to Valmont, if only to see the fabled stables, but when he tentatively suggested such a thing, Ginny said robustly, “Not this time, Michael. When we are settled, perhaps Jon — I mean Gervase will invite you to visit, but there will be much for him to do just at first. He will not have the leisure to show you around when he will have a great many duties to attend to.”
“But he’s a duke!” Michael said, in wide-eyed innocence. “He can do whatever he likes!”
Ginny laughed at him.
One matter had been exercising Ran’s mind rather. It was all very well for Ginny to talk glibly of being Ger’s mistress, but travelling with two men not related to her without a maid or the least sign of a chaperon was still not something he liked. And then there was Valmont. Ger would not hear of installing her in one of the lodges — she was to stay in the house itself, and be treated with all the courtesy due to a guest of the duke’s.
“You will set everyone by the ears!” Ran protested, as he watched his brother packing a small box in his room. “A little discretion never goes amiss, Ger.”
“I will not have her hidden away, as if I am ashamed of her,” Ger said.
“No, but to flaunt your mistress—”
“Flaunt!”
Ginny came in just then with a couple of gowns, and began to fold them into the box.
Ran bit his lip, then began again. “To keep your mistress at Valmont is just not done, Ger.”
“Well, it is now. Ginny may not hold high rank, but she is a gentleman’s daughter, not some lightskirt picked up in Covent Garden.”
“Then you should not allow her to travel without a chaperon.”
Ginny gave a throaty laugh. “Are you worried about my reputation? That horse has bolted already, my lord. Several months ago, to be precise.”
“But there is no reason to advertise the fact,” Ran said patiently. “You need a chaperon for the journey, and none of this packing everything into a single box. You will need separate boxes to go to your separate bedrooms at the post houses.”
They both laughed at that. But fortunately there was one person in the house on Ran’s side. Molly was the former nurse to Michael and Ginny, who had evolved into a mainstay of the household as the general factotum who nagged everyone into compliance, servants and family alike, took charge in every crisis and was universally loved and looked up to.
“You’ll not go nowhere without female company, Miss Ginny, and if your mama can spare me, I’ll go myself, just to make sure you’re looked after, for if there’s one thing that can’t never be depended on, it’s gentlemen looking after a lady properly.”
Ger and Ginny could argue indefinitely with Ran, but no one could hold out against Molly. So it was that when the post-chaise drew up outside Pendower House, two separate boxes were strapped to the roof, and two ladies were handed into it. Ger and Ran were to ride alongside, and as Captain Edgerton and Michael were to ride with them as far as Truro to set them on their way, and the entire village had turned out to see them off, their departure was impressive indeed.
Ran watched his brother carefully as he made his farewells. This had been his family for a year now, a family who had rescued him from the sea, mended him, accepted him without question and given him a home and affection. And love, he realised. Every time Ger looked at Ginny there was an unmistakable glow in his eyes, and likewise in hers. Clearly they would never be happy to be parted, but of the rest of the family, Ger seemed unaffected. He shook hands with them all, hugged one or two, ruffled the hair of the youngest boy and then smiled as he left them behind. He was not, then, having any doubts about the wisdom of his re-emergence from seclusion.
Nor did the Chandry family seem hostile towards him, which was somewhat forbearing of them, under the circumstances. Ger was the man who had accepted their hospitality, lied to them repeatedly, seduced their daughter and then told them he was not who they thought he was. Now he was taking Ginny away to an unknown future, where he would be a great man, moving freely in the highest circles and she would be forever excluded from all good society, although perhaps they were not yet aware of that. Maybe her condition was not yet general knowledge, or they expected Ger to marry her, in time.
Whatever the cause, there was no sign of resentment towards Ger. When Ginny’s step-mother hugged him and whispered, “Take care of her,” he responded instantly, “Of course I will.” And she smiled through her tears and nodded, reassured. She trusted Ger. After a year of living with him under a fake name and an invented history, she could see the true man beneath the falsity, who would look after Ginny come what may.
They got under way. The village urchins ran alongside the post-chaise, waving and yelling encouragement to the postilions as the horses slowly trotted down into the village and across the bridge beside the inn, where a large contingent of the fishermen had apparently deemed the occasion worthy of a holiday, and were already well refreshed. Then they laboured up the other side of the little valley until the flatter groun
d was reached and, after a twist or two, the road turned inland. Here the horses picked up speed and the urchins were left behind.
Ran was glad to stretch his horse’s legs a little, and although his hired hack was not the equal of the other mounts, it was not a total slug at this early stage of the day. Later, perhaps, it would fade, but for now, with the Cornish air fresh and clear, the breeze gentle and the sun warming, he was content. As he cantered along, he counted up the distances in his head. Almost twenty miles to Truro, where he had acquired his horse. He might be able to pick up a better mount there, but this one would serve if not. Then on to St Columb, where they would rest for a while, and take up fresh horses for the post-chaise. Another thirty miles to Launceston, where they would put up at the Kings’ Arms. No great distance for a day’s driving, but the Cornish roads were rough, and the women would be ready to stop for the night by then. After that, if there were no mishaps — please let there be no mishaps! — there were only forty miles or so to Exeter and the Half Moon Hotel and Giggs, bearing the miracle of freshly laundered shirts and immaculate breeches and, he very much hoped, his favourite soap, which he had forgotten to pack. Then he could abandon this indifferent horse for the comfort of the travelling coach and his own coachmen. Ger’s coachmen now, he supposed. The Litherholm coachmen, he told himself sternly, to which he had just as much right as his brother.
Edgerton and Michael Chandry, having better horses or more energy, rode ahead of the chaise, but Ger dropped back to ride beside Ran.
“This is fun, do you not think?” he said, his face alight with enthusiasm. “The English countryside is glorious at this time of year, and I have not been so far afield for a while. I missed all this when I was in America. There are parts that are almost the same, but not precisely so, and nothing is quite so green as the English spring.” He laughed suddenly. “It is nothing to you, brother, for you have seen it every year, but to go away and then return to all this, and to be myself again, with no pretending… it is wonderful!”
Such good humour could not fail to lift Ran’s spirits, too, and his worries about the journey receded somewhat. His mind being still on clean linen, however, he said, “How do you contrive without a valet? I feel horribly rumpled without mine, and grubby, too. I am missing Giggs abominably.”
“What a dandy you are!” Ger said, laughing merrily. “Most of the world manages perfectly without valets, brother. There is always someone to do a little laundry, or press anything that needs pressing, or put in a stitch here and there, and I can clean my own boots, I hope.”
“Really?”
“It is not terribly hard. Some patent boot blacking and a decent pair of brushes is all that is required. I have never been much interested in my appearance, you know, and when that snooping valet that Father foisted on me took to his bed in New York, I was never so glad of anything in my life. He used to sneak off to tell Father everything I did, and when we were in America he wrote long letters to him, no doubt reporting on everyone I met and everywhere I went.”
“He did. Max opened one of them once, by mistake, and was quite shocked. After that, we burnt every letter from him.”
“Did you indeed?” Ger said, the scowl that had momentarily marred his features lifting again. “Ha! I wish I had known that. He is still in New York, you know. He found an American fellow who liked the idea of an English valet, who is welcome to him, frankly. I suppose I shall have to have a valet, for Heaven forfend that the Duke of Falconbury present a rumpled appearance to the world, but I shall choose my own this time. Lord, this road goes up and down a great deal. Ginny will be quite seasick. I shall just ride forward and see how she does.”
~~~~~
No mishaps occurred, and Launceston was reached without difficulty, and the only small change of plan was that Captain Edgerton and Michael Chandry chose to continue with the travellers as far as Exeter. Since they had brought changes of clothing in their saddle bags, this was clearly by design.
“I am acting under orders from Mr Willerton-Forbes,” the captain said apologetically. “I am not to leave you unattended on the road until you are reunited with your own people, just in case of any misunderstandings with the locals.”
“You think we might be held up?” Ran said.
“These remote parts are not necessarily safe, and with a private chaise and two obviously well-breeched riders, you might look vulnerable to a desperate man. Whereas my sword is visible, my greatcoat has pockets large enough to conceal a dozen pistols and young Chandry looks like a handy man in a mill. Once you get to Exeter, however, and I am satisfied that you have enough protection, we shall disappear, I assure you.”
“And if we say you are not wanted, you will just follow anyway, I daresay,” Ran said, grinning.
“It is a public highway,” Edgerton said, innocently. “Anyone may freely use the road, after all.”
“You are right, of course, and it would be a shocking thing to find the missing duke after all this time, only to have him fall victim to a highwayman. I should have thought of it myself, only I am not used to travelling so informally.”
The chaise rolled into the Half Moon Hotel’s yard in the middle of the afternoon, and the first person Ran saw was the Valmont deputy coachman, industriously polishing the ducal coat of arms on the door of the Litherholm coach.
“Tennant! How good to see you,” Ran cried, as he dismounted rather gingerly, his muscles protesting at the change in posture. “You got here safe and sound then.”
“No trouble, Your Grace.”
“Not Your Grace any more, Tennant,” Ran said easily.
“Not… not Your Grace?” Tennant said, bewildered. “I don’t understand.”
“Oh.” Ran gave a rueful chuckle. “Oh dear, you must have left Valmont in a great hurry.”
“Within an hour of Mr Giggs receiving your letter, Your— What am I to call you, then?”
Just at that moment, Ger emerged from the far side of the post-chaise, leading his horse. Tennant, who had grown up at Valmont, recognised him instantly and gave a great shout. “Milord! Your Grace! Mr Vane! Come and see!”
The head coachman’s face peered out from one of the stable doors. “What’s afoot, lad?”
“Come and see! It’s His Grace!”
Vane laughed, seeing only Ran and therefore not understanding the flap, but he willingly moved out into the yard. Only when he rounded the coach and had full sight of Ger’s grin did he stop, mouth agape. “My God! Is it really you, milord?” And then the grizzled old retainer, who had maintained his phlegmatic composure through fifty years of Litherholm family trials, burst into tears.
“Giggs,” Ran murmured distractedly. “I must tell Giggs myself.”
“More fun if it is a surprise, surely?” Ger said, shaking Vane’s hand and clapping him briskly on the shoulder.
“And have him leave in high dudgeon, so that I have to find myself another valet? I thank you, but no!”
Ger laughed, and shook his head. “Such craven dependence on a man whose sole talent is in polishing boots.”
“Sole talent!” Ran said, shocked. “I should not employ him for five minutes if it were so. His way with a wine stain on a silk waistcoat is nothing short of miraculous, I assure you. Take care of things here, will you, brother, while I inform Giggs that he is no longer valet to a duke.”
“Maybe I shall steal him from you, then,” Ger said easily.
Ran was momentarily horrified, before he recognised the mischievous twinkle in his brother’s eye. Ger was a dreadful tease, and knew just how to get under his skin, the wretch.
He left Ger to soothe the coachmen while Captain Edgerton and Michael Chandry assisted the ladies, and went to find his valet before his dignity, too, was stretched beyond endurance by the shock of Ger’s return from the dead. Giggs bore with noble fortitude the unexpected reduction in his master’s, and therefore his own, rank, and declared himself in flat tones to be overcome with joy on the occasion.
“His Grace
has been doing for himself for some time, Giggs, as you will no doubt be able to tell as soon as you see him,” Ran said.
That softened the valet’s stiff expression slightly. “Ah, but that was always his way, Your— milord. His Grace was never so particular about his appearance as your lordship is. Always a credit to yourself, you’ve been, milord.”
“The credit is entirely yours, Giggs, as you well know. But His Grace will need a valet in the future, and I depend upon you to advise on the choice and to help bring the fellow up to the mark, for we cannot expect to find another such as you, can we? That would be too much to hope for.”
Giggs bowed at these compliments, taking them entirely as his due, and Ran felt he had done enough to assuage the terrifying prospect of losing his highly-valued and expert valet to his brother, who cared nothing for his appearance.
11: Return To Valmont
The Half Moon Hotel took with aplomb the discovery that the Duke of Falconbury was travelling with the unexpected addition of five extra persons, nor were they thrown by the duke turning out to be a different person. A duke had been expected and a duke had arrived, and it was likely that any inconvenience was far outweighed by the wonder of being in the middle of such a tale.
Ran was a little surprised to hear that Neate had also followed them east, and was presently sitting in the common room.
“What is going on, Edgerton?” Ran said in sharp tones. “Why are your people following us?”
They were in the private parlour that had been engaged for them, the finest in the building with a splendid view over the street outside, the view of which was currently occupying Ger, Ginny and Molly. With a slight tilt of his head to indicate that Ran should follow, Edgerton made for the door. He walked down the corridor opening doors, attracting annoyed exclamations, until he found an empty room.
The Duke (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 6) Page 11
