by Sahara Kelly
“Not for me. I have only just breakfasted.”
Ivy sat. “Thank you, Malvern. We won’t be needing anything for a while.”
Her steadfast servant lingered. “Should I fetch Mrs Ashrayn, Miss Siddington?”
She managed not to roll her eyes. “I don’t believe that will be necessary. But you might advise her that his Grace has called. She’s aware of the situation, of course.”
“Isn’t everyone,” muttered Malvern as he bowed and took his leave.
The Duke bit back a grin. “I see you have the archetypal faithful retainer too.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Malvern’s known me from infancy. He’s loyal to a fault, and we’d be completely lost without him. But it does give him more licence to be free with his thoughts…and not always in the most appropriate fashion.”
“Salt of the earth, as is my Woodleigh,” agreed the Duke. “But I’m sure you’ve guessed that my visit is not to share reminiscences of butlers we’ve known and loved.”
“Indeed, your Grace.” She sighed and folded her hands together on her lap. “Your kindness last night has saved me a great deal of embarrassment, for which I am profoundly grateful. But it’s also put us in—well, rather a spot, I suppose you could say.”
“We’re engaged,” he said firmly.
She swallowed. “We are?”
“In the eyes of the world, yes. We are indeed engaged.” He leaned back, watching her face. “Now given that situation, there are things we must do. Firstly…” he raised his hand, ticking his fingers as he began his list. “I very much need to speak with whoever is head of your family. That’s job number one. Secondly—we must both agree on the wording of the announcement for the Times. It is expected, of course, after last night, so I’d like to get that settled this afternoon, in time for tomorrow’s edition.”
“Ah.” Fascinated, she watched him. Anyone would think he was actually quite content with matters as they stood. “Your Grace?”
He ignored her and continued. “I do have a family ring, which traditionally is worn by the affianced bride of the current holder of the Maidenbrooke title. I like it, but it would, naturally, require your approval. Also, it might need some adjustments for the fit—”
Ivy cleared her throat. “Your Grace…” she said more firmly, attracting his attention.
“Yes? You disagree with any of these suggestions?”
“Well, I—no, but—”
“Good. Then if, as I assume, your grandmother should be the one to give us her blessing on behalf of the Siddingtons, perhaps we might plan a visit to Siddington Castle?” He smiled. “I’ve always wanted to visit a haunted castle.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “Your Grace,” she said loudly. “Stop.”
“Why?” He blinked.
“Last night, you responded with kindness and alacrity to a difficult situation. Your announcement of our engagement neatly solved a potential disaster, and I am deeply grateful to you. However, it in no way implies that you need to continue on with the charade we began at Sydenham House.”
“I’m not sure I understand…” The blue eyes locked on hers, and for a moment she wondered if that was a lick of anger lighting their depths.
“What I mean is that you are under no obligation to consider yourself engaged, sir. I believe the marriage of someone of your rank is a matter of deliberation, research, enquiries and solid business decisions, not a spur-of-the-moment comment at a ball.”
“I was holding your leg, Ivy.”
“Yes,” she cleared her throat. “I am well aware of that.”
“And several ladies observed your gown far above your knees.”
Heat flooded her cheeks and she lowered her gaze. “I am aware of that too. An unfortunate occurrence which should have been avoided.”
“No arguments there. But the blame has to lie with the Streatfords, not you, or me. The repercussions would have been quite horrific had I not spoken as I did, and we both know it.” He sighed. “I had little choice, Ivy. I had just landed a facer on that brute Streatford and then grabbed your leg in rather an ungentlemanly fashion. All in the heat of the moment. I may have saved your reputation, but I also saved mine as well.”
“That is a valid point, your Grace…”
He raised a hand. “I believe, under the current circumstances, you might call me Colborne? Or Colly, if it pleases you. I’d prefer not to be reminded of my title every three minutes. It gets a bit wearing.”
Ivy tilted her head to one side. “I never really considered that, but I suppose you’re right. Very well.” She smiled. “Colly it is. And you’ve been calling me Ivy quite comfortably for most of this discussion, so let’s continue as we go on.”
“Agreed. So when can we visit your grandmother?”
Ivy dropped her head and sighed.
Chapter Seven
The Duke sat quite comfortably in his carriage, enjoying the spring scenery as it passed the windows. They were making their way to Siddington Castle, exactly as he had planned. It had taken several days to arrange matters, during which time he’d enjoyed some brief excursions with his bride-to-be, and made sure the appropriate brief announcement had been entered into the public record via the Times despite the fact he’d yet to obtain formal permission for the wedding. He felt confident that there wouldn’t be a problem accomplishing that task, arrogant though it sounded, even to his own ears.
A drive in the park along with Prudence, a trip to Hatchard’s…escorted by Ivy’s maid…and tea at Davenport House. All very proper and conducted in exactly the way Society would expect from a Duke upon his announced engagement. Although the comments and observations had been a little more intense, given the circumstances. But these outings had also given them both chance to let it be known they were headed for Siddington Castle shortly, for a brief visit. And at last they were on their way.
His future wife wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as himself about this whole trip, but his arguments had been straightforward and he knew her to be a woman of good sense and logic. He had decided, in fact, that she would make an excellent Duchess, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually tell her that yet. He would bide his time.
“I still think this is a mere tempest in a teacup, your Grace, and I’m sure Elvina would agree with me.”
He frowned. “Colly, please. I’m going to get rather annoyed if you continue to use my title.” He glanced at her. “We are engaged, you know.”
Elvina Ashrayn, who sat across from Ivy as was proper, bit her lip. “I believe Ivy is well aware of that fact, sir.”
He nodded. “Good. Then please help me persuade her that using my given name will not bring down the wrath of God on her head?”
He got a wry grin in response. “My charge has a somewhat determined attitude, as you may have noticed.”
“Would you say stubborn?”
The older woman rolled her eyes. “If pressed, probably yes.”
“I am here, you know,” Ivy observed. “And I can hear every word you’re saying.”
“In that case, start calling me by my given name and let’s move on to other matters, shall we?”
He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, but for some reason he needed to hear Ivy speak to him on another level now. No longer should he be “his Grace”. He was her fiancé, dammit.
She sighed loudly. “Very well, Colly.” She shot him a sideways look. “Happy now?”
“Much better.” He grinned. “Of course, in public I suppose I will be Maidenbrooke.”
“Indeed.” She shrugged. “The whole business of titles can get awfully confusing sometimes.”
“As my Duchess you will become used to it,” he said airily.
There was a sort of growling sound, followed by silence.
Elvina broke it. “Do you have family to notify, your Gr—er—sir?” She laughed. “Now I’m not sure what to call you either.”
Pleased at her comment, the Duke smiled back. “It is a bit annoying, isn’t it
?” He looked at Ivy’s chaperone. Her smooth skin belied her white hair, and her green eyes rivalled Ivy’s. “Mrs Ashrayn, might I ask, at the risk of being impolite—do you have some Irish in your heritage? I’m sure Ivy’s tired of hearing that question, but the green eyes you both share, not to mention her fiery hair—”
Elvina raised her hand, stemming what could have been a snippy comment from Ivy, who subsided immediately. Ignoring the byplay, she replied to the Duke’s question.
“I do, sir. My family…what’s left of it…still resides in Southern Ireland. I believe there’s an ancient association with the Siddington family; some of our branches crossed a few hundred years ago, but I have no clue in what capacity.” She shrugged. “It’s become tradition for an Ashrayn to serve the Siddingtons. My father was estate manager for Ivy’s grandfather.”
“That’s right, he was,” added Ivy. “I’d forgotten that.”
“You were very young,” said Mrs Ashrayn. “We retain the name, you know. I was married when I was scarcely older than Ivy. But sadly my husband died of a fever. It is the custom for those who ally themselves with the Ashrayns to become Ashrayns in name as well. So my husband became an Ashrayn and I stayed one.”
The Duke watched her, her luminous green eyes strangely compelling, drawing his focus. “An unusual arrangement,” he commented.
“We are an unusual family,” she responded quietly.
For a moment, Maidenbrooke’s vision blurred and he blinked, trapped for a heartbeat in some sort of strange moment filled with vast green hills under a huge moon.
“Er—”
“I believe we’re almost there,” said Ivy, leaning forward a little and looking out of the window. “Oh—look—” She pointed with one hand, putting her other one on the Duke’s sleeve and tugging. “Here’s your first glimpse of Siddington Castle, Colly. It looks quite impressive from this angle—”
Pleased that she’d used his name, the Duke also leaned forward, staring out the window in the direction she indicated. Moving back, she let him move nearer so that he could see better.
Her scent drifted up into his nostrils, a soft flowery mix of roses and Ivy. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the freshness, the unique aroma of his future wife.
And then the impact of Siddington Castle struck him.
Hard.
He managed to restrain a gasp, but it was a near thing. Looming over the surrounding countryside was a real castle. One that looked as if it could repel a horde of invading warriors with no difficulty whatsoever.
“My God,” he gaped. “How big is this place?”
Ivy chuckled near his ear, her breath warming his cheek as he leaned over her to watch Siddington appear. “I’m not sure anyone’s done a complete count of the rooms. And of course most of them are either unusable, or filled with historical items of interest.”
“Where do you live?” His eyes were glued to the numerous turrets, parapets, towers and all the traditional hallmarks of a castle.
“We use a very small portion of one of the wings,” she answered. “It’s actually quite habitable, you know.”
“Is there a moat?”
Both women laughed at that.
“There used to be,” answered Elvina. “But no more. There is a slight dip in the surrounding area to indicate where it was, but that’s all. No moat, no drawbridge—”
“There is a portcullis,” Ivy interjected. “But we don’t use it and once you’re past it, there’s a courtyard leading to the stables and so on.” She touched his arm. “It is a true castle, but it’s also the home of the Siddingtons. I hope you won’t find it too unpleasant, sir.”
Seeing a little edge of worry in her eyes, the Duke shook his head. “I am very much looking forward to our visit, Ivy, never fear. This is a dream of mine for many years. To stay in a real castle.”
“Truly?” She raised her eyebrows. “There are plenty around, you know. You probably could have stayed at any one of them, just by asking—”
He resumed his seat as the carriage turned toward Siddington. “Yes. But asking if one could visit simply because the family lives in a castle seems a bit presumptuous. And a bit silly.”
“Maybe one should do silly things now and again, sir,” smiled Elvina.
“I wish I could,” he sighed. “But given my position, I dare not indulge in silliness. There are too many people relying on me to keep the Maidenbrooke heritage safe and secure.”
It was the truth, he realised as he spoke the words. The weight of his responsibilities had overtaken his ability to be—in his own words—silly.
“So you don’t think this entire engagement being thrust upon you is silly?” Ivy cocked an impertinent eyebrow at him.
He fixed her with an imperative gaze. “Firstly, it has not been thrust upon me. I instigated it to escape an impossibly difficult situation. And I find it not an untenable notion. My last foray into the world of potential brides was not a success.” He winced. “I had no idea Miss Barrett-Goddings’ interest lay elsewhere. The aftermath of that fiasco may have turned out well for her…and indeed I hope it has. But for me it was unpleasant, to say the least.”
“And it would be quite terrible were you to find yourself in a similar situation,” said Elvina quietly. She looked at Ivy. “You would do well to remember that.”
Ivy swallowed. “I had forgotten. But you’re quite right.” She turned to the Duke. “I’m sorry, Colly. One tends to focus on the scandal of the disappearing fiancée, rather than the man she’s just jilted. I have been rather harsh in my statements about our situation, when I should be expressing my gratitude for your patience and consideration.”
He sighed. “I don’t want or need thanks.” He took a breath. “Can we just be engaged for a while without any dramatic theatricals?”
She looked at him. “I don’t know. Can we?”
He held out his hand, palm up. “Let’s try.”
She nodded and placed her hand on his. “Very well, Colly. We’ll try.”
*~~*~~*
Ivy led her sort-of-fiancé into Siddington Castle with a certain amount of trepidation. She knew he’d be admiring the baronial hall, with its carved panelling, darkened over the years to a rich deep mahogany. The fireplace that dominated the room could probably have roasted an ox whole, and most likely did sometime in the fifteenth century. Now it boasted a large vase of flowers.
Would he be intimidated by it all? Probably not.
“Ivy. There you are.” A small grey-haired woman emerged from a side door, her gown simple but elegant, her hair perfect and one or two tasteful pieces of jewellery glowing in just the right places.
Would the Duke be intimidated by her grandmother?
Ivy bit her lip. That was a strong possibility.
“Grandmama. We’re here.” She crossed the hall, her heels tapping on the marble tiles, her hands outstretched. Met by a similar gesture, she went straight into the older woman’s arms, comforted immediately by the soft scent of lavender…her grandmother’s favourite fragrance.
“Elvina.” Lady Siddington released her granddaughter and held out her hands. “All is well?”
Elvina took the hands, dropped a brief curtsey, and then stared into the old woman’s eyes. “All is very well indeed, my Lady.”
A large smile etched wrinkles around her lips, revealing a woman who had smiled a lot during her lifetime. Ivy felt as if she saw her grandmother with new eyes now. An odd and whimsical thought she brushed aside.
“I must introduce you, Grandmama.” She turned. “This is His Grace, the Duke of Maidenbrooke.” She swallowed. “Colly, this is my grandmother, Lady Siddington.”
He bowed deeply as he took Lady Siddington’s hand, dropping a light kiss on her knuckles. “My Lady. It is an honour to meet you and an absolute thrill to be able to visit a genuine castle.” His eyes wandered around a little.
“It’s drafty,” Lady Siddington replied with a little grin.
“But only with the winds of time, I feel sure,�
�� he quipped, his own slight smile charming Ivy.
The older woman had to laugh. “The older they are, the colder they seem, your Grace. You are most welcome. Please join us in the morning room. I have some refreshments ready. Ivy, take him in?”
She turned to direct the servants and speak with Elvina, so Ivy led Maidenbrooke into the chamber that had probably once been a presentation room of sorts.
High ceilings, windows divided neatly by ancient muntins, panes of glass distorted over the centuries into soft blurs that took sunlight and refracted it into rainbows here and there—it was one of Ivy’s favourite rooms and she hoped the Duke would like it too.
His indrawn breath reassured her.
“Incredible,” he muttered, walking to the carved mantel which boasted a mirror that also showed the passage of time and wasn’t good for much of anything but reflecting a blur of whoever stood before it.
“What a room.” His eyes wandered. “Don’t you wish you could hear these walls speak of what they’d seen?”
“No,” said Lady Siddington, walking in behind them in time to catch his words. “To be honest, your Grace, I have a horrid feeling that our ancestors weren’t always on the right side of the political scene. There must have been plots, assassinations, and all kinds of violence discussed in this room.” She gestured to one or two small portraits. “We have Angevins, Marcher Lords, Cavaliers, Jacobites, various dissenters and warriors in our family. None of whom I would particularly want to meet. There was even a Lancastrian who left a red rose symbol scratched into the wainscoting in one of the guest chambers.” She rolled her eyes. “No respect for the woodwork, that lot.”
The Duke smiled. “And yet they are part of the Siddington heritage, Ma’am. And as such, they’re family.”
“True,” she nodded. “But one of ‘em was even involved in that silly plot to blow up Parliament. Not the sort of thing one wants to see recounted in the family’s history, I have to say.”
“A colourful ancestry.” He glanced at Ivy. “Any nefarious plans to keep the notoriety going?”
“None whatsoever,” she smiled cheerfully. “I am content to let my predecessors shake their heads in disappointment.”
