A New Home for the Duke: A Regency Romance: The Returned Lords of Grosvenor Square (Book 4)

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A New Home for the Duke: A Regency Romance: The Returned Lords of Grosvenor Square (Book 4) Page 13

by Pearson, Rose


  “Let us hope the day is fine,” he muttered to himself, before pushing himself away from the table and rising to his feet, leaving his unfinished wine and decanter of port behind.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “This was left for you, Miss Edgington.”

  Jenny caught her breath as she walked into her room to see the maid gesturing towards a riding habit. It was clearly very well made and the dark red shade would suit her very well. Her heart leaped into her throat as she ran one finger down it, aware that the Duke must have sent this to her.

  “You are going riding within the hour?” the maid asked, giving Jenny a quick smile. “Shall I help you put this on?”

  “Of course,” Jenny murmured, aware of just how quickly her heart was beating as she looked down at the beautiful gift. The Duke had, somehow, managed to procure such a thing and had sent it to her to wear this afternoon. She, as the governess, had no such thing and had often gone out riding in an older, slightly worn gown, and a coat should it be cold. To have something such as this was a gift indeed.

  As she changed, Jenny tried not to let her mind think on the Duke but discovered that she could not think of anything else. Lord Carrington had changed vastly in the last few days, to the point that at times, she did not believe it to be the same gentleman. He had spent time with his children every single day and had ensured that he always bid them good night. John, who had been unsure as to whether his father would truly do such a thing, whether he would really be able to keep his word, had become a good deal more trusting now that he saw his father do precisely what he had promised. Jenny knew that the children looked forward to seeing their father each and every day and she delighted in just how happy and affectionate they had become. For the Duke himself, she considered, as the riding habit was carefully placed on her head and pinned – albeit painfully – to her head, she was happy for his change in character. There was so much more happiness in his eyes than before and to see him smiling at her and at the children with such regularity told her that his heart was truly content.

  It was wonderful to see and yet, Jenny found that her own heart was beginning to betray her. She was feeling much more for the Duke than she ought, certainly, and to spend time in his company each day was only making matters worse. At first, she had convinced herself that it was merely a happiness that stemmed from seeing him so altered, so changed, but over the last few days she had discovered that it was more than that. Whenever she caught his gaze, her heart would seem to spin in her chest. Whenever he smiled at her, such a warmth spread through her that she was forced to catch her breath. The look in his eyes seemed to hold promises that she wanted to take a hold of, wanted to believe, but instead, she did nothing other than thrust them from her, knowing that she could never become his Duchess. It did not matter what she felt, she told herself, for the Duke could never be anything more than her employer and, mayhap, her friend.

  Jenny was still trying to convince herself of that fact some minutes later when she was riding alongside the Duke, aware that her heart was beating so quickly it felt as though it would jump from her chest. Heat had infused her cheeks as he had greeted her, finding his ease of manner and his quick smile very engaging.

  “You are quiet this afternoon, Miss Edgington.”

  She blushed and looked up to meet his gaze. “I do apologize, Your Grace,” she stammered, aware that she could not tell him the truth of her thoughts. “I was merely considering the children.” It was a complete untruth but Jenny knew she could not tell him that she had been, in fact, considering the state of her own heart and what she should do about it. “They both worked very hard this morning, and John shall soon need a tutor of his own.”

  The Duke nodded, his brow furrowing for a moment. “Most gentlemen send their sons to Eton or the like from the age of seven,” he said, slowly, “but I find that I am not at all inclined to do so. My son needs to be at this house, I think. He needs to know that he is loved and cared for and that I am present here with him. After all he has endured, I do not think that now is the right time to send him away.”

  “No, indeed not,” Jenny agreed at once, thinking quietly that there would be nothing worse in John’s eyes than being sent away from his house, his sister, his home and his father. “If I may speak plainly, he has only just renewed his relationship with you, Your Grace, and I do not think that it is time for him to depart from it again so soon.”

  He nodded, the lines on his forehead smoothing as he began to smile. “It seems we are agreed in this, Miss Edgington.”

  “I know that you wish the best for your son,” she replied, truthfully, looking into his face and finding a steadiness there that she had not seen before. “And you recognize that he needs to be in this house and with you and Mary for some time, so that his heart might heal all the more.” She smiled at the thought of her young charge, knowing that soon, he would be more of a man and less of a boy. “There is much kindness and sweetness within both John and Mary, Your Grace. I am glad that you can see it for yourself now.”

  “That I can,” the Duke agreed, warmly. “And I have every intention of sharing with John some of the duties of my estate very soon, for he will have to be trained in what will be expected of him when the time comes – although I do hope it will not be for some time yet!” He chuckled and Jenny managed to smile back at him, although her heart lurched at the thought of a life without the Duke’s presence.

  The Duke cleared his throat and silence reigned for some time, allowing them to ride quietly alongside each other without the need to say much to one another. Jenny relished the quiet, glad that there was enough of a friendship between them that they could ride in silence without feeling the need to speak or shatter the quiet unnecessarily. At last, she was at peace. At last, there was nothing to concern herself with. She did not need to fear the Duke and did not need to fret over the state of his children. There was, instead, a sense of calm contentment that grew steadily in her heart. Mayhap this was what she would have in her future, stretching out for many years to come. She would be able to continue her work with Mary and John, in whatever way they required it, whilst enjoying conversations and company with the Duke.

  But is that all you wish for?

  Closing her eyes for a moment, Jenny gave herself a quick shake and refused to permit herself to think another moment about what it was she wished for. There was no need to consider it for it was more than foolish to allow her thoughts to turn to the Duke again. She was a governess, she reminded herself, firmly. That was all. The fact that the Duke asked her to dine and sought her out for conversations was quite extraordinary given her status. As such, she would have to ensure that she was more than grateful for that. To seek out anything more would be foolish indeed!

  “You look lost in thought again, Miss Edgington.”

  The Duke’s voice was gentle, and still, another blush came hurriedly onto her cheeks. “Do forgive me, Your Grace,” she stammered, hoping that the Duke would think that the riding could be to blame for her coloring. “I am a little prone to falling into my own thoughts of late.” She shot him a quick glance and saw that he was smiling at her. She found herself smiling back at him without hesitation. “Was there something you wished to ask me?”

  The smile faded from the Duke’s face and he nodded, looking at her steadily. “Now that you suggest it, Miss Edgington, there is something that has come to mind of late and I would like to share it with you.” He cleared his throat quickly, now appearing to be quite serious. Jenny felt her heart leap into her throat at the sight of his rather severe expression. What was it he wished to share with her?

  “Yes, Your Grace?” she murmured, when he said nothing. “What is it that you wish to ask?”

  He cleared his throat again and turned his head to look directly at her. “Miss Edgington,” he began, his tone a little tense. “Over the last few days, I have become aware that….”

  “Your Grace!”

  The sound of someone shouting, of someone call
ing the Duke’s name, had them both turning their heads in search of where it was coming from. Shortly after, the Duke spotted a footman hurrying towards him. Jenny’s heart leaped with worry as she turned her horse about and rode after the Duke, fearing that something dreadful had happened. The staff would not easily interrupt the master during a ride unless something of a serious nature had occurred.

  “Your Grace,” the footman gasped, his face bright red as he attempted to catch his breath. “I am glad I saw you from the stables. There is a matter of urgency, Your Grace. You must return to the house at once.”

  “A matter of urgency?” the Duke repeated, frowning. “What do you mean?”

  “It is Master John,” the footman explained quickly, throwing a glance towards Jenny, who pressed one hand to her heart in fright. “The child has gone missing again and we cannot find him.”

  “Oh, no,” Jenny whispered, recalling just what had occurred before. “Surely, he cannot have gone to the town?”

  The Duke said nothing for a moment or two, his jaw working hard. Then, he wheeled around to face Jenny, his expression grim.

  “We must find him,” he said, firmly. “Go back to the house, Miss Edgington. Take the carriage to the town. I myself will ride there without a moment’s hesitation.”

  Jenny nodded, her hands slipping on the reins as she held them tightly in her hands. “At once, Your Grace,” she whispered, praying that it would not be as they feared. Surely John would not have disappeared to go stealing and thieving as he had done before? It did not make sense, for Jenny had been so certain that the boy was more content and happier than ever before. He had not shown even the slightest inclination towards poor behavior ever since the Duke had returned to his life. Therefore, she had to believe that he had gone elsewhere, although for what reason, she could not quite imagine.

  “Thank you, Miss Edgington,” the Duke muttered, his brows low. “Pray that I find him before you reach us with the carriage. Do not tarry now. Every moment is important.”

  Jenny said nothing more. She did not even so much as bid him farewell, but spurred her horse on back to the stables, which were only a few yards away. The footman followed after her – more slowly than before, given that he had delivered his message – and so it was she who shouted for the carriage and told the stable hands where the Duke had gone. Her hands twisted in front of her as she waited impatiently for the carriage to arrive, her worries growing steadily as her heart and mind filled with anxiety.

  “Where is the master, Miss Edgington?”

  Mrs. Blaine hurried towards her, her hands all of a flap as she drew near.

  “Has someone told him of Master John’s disappearance?” Her hand grasped Jenny’s arm. “I don’t know where that boy has gone but I pray it is not….”

  “You need not fear, Mrs. Blaine,” Jenny said, with more confidence than she felt. “The Duke has already gone to town and I shall join him there with the carriage. I am certain we shall discover him soon enough.”

  “Oh, I must hope so,” Mrs. Blaine fretted, her hands now twisting together in front of her, her eyes darting from place to place, and her face pale. “I haven’t seen the master this happy since he first arrived home. And now, just when he has begun to smile again….” She shook her head, wordlessly, and Jenny felt the same crippling fear begin to burn within her.

  “We must hope it is not so,” she murmured, as the carriage drew near. “We must hope, Mrs. Blaine. It is all we can do.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “John?”

  Stephen threw himself from his horse, his heart in his throat as he scanned the crowds of people wandering through the busy market town. If John was doing as Stephen feared, then he might very well have to intervene once more to protect his son from any dire consequences of his thieving. It was wrong for John to steal, of course, and Stephen had thought that such behaviors had been brought to an end given what had occurred previously, but it seemed he might have been mistaken. Had not the threat of the tavern proprietor been enough to scare the boy into never repeating such a thing again? Or had his bravado grown so great that he felt able to repeat his stealing again? Why had John not listened to him? Why had he not taken heed of his warnings? And most of all, why had the boy chosen to go out and pick-pocket when he had, thus far, appeared to be more than content – happy, even, with how Stephen had returned to their lives?

  A long sigh escaped from him as he ran one hand across his forehead, knowing that he would soon garner the attention of the crowd. Taking a hold of his horse’s bridle, he tugged a few coins from his pocket and, finding a young lad nearby, instructed him to take the creature back to the estate, saying that he would be paid well for the trouble. The young man’s eyes lit up as Stephen handed him the coins, and he agreed to do so at once, taking the horse and walking away.

  Stephen felt as though he were struggling to breathe, such was the anxiety and fear coursing through him. Should someone such as Arthur, the man at the tavern, find John stealing, then the boy could be beaten black and blue. He had to prevent him from doing anything foolish, had to talk to him before he made a truly dreadful mistake.

  The sound of horses’ hooves caught his attention and he turned to see the carriage being driven into town. The driver, catching sight of him, pulled the carriage to a stop and, without even waiting for the door to be opened for her, Miss Edgington thrust the door open and jumped down.

  “Have you seen him?” Her eyes were wide, her hands reaching to grasp his arm. “Do you know where he has gone?”

  “No,” he muttered, placing one hand over hers and holding it tightly. “No, not as yet. Come now, we must search.”

  Miss Edgington let out a long breath and nodded and, letting go of his hand so that she might loop her hand through his arm, began to walk alongside him. He could feel the worry coming from her, could see her anxious eyes as they looked from place to place. She loved John dearly, that much was clear, and Stephen found himself praying that they would be able to find him very soon.

  A sudden scream rent the air, followed by the sounds of a commotion. Shouts and cries of exclamation tore at his heart, sending ice into his veins as he came to a stop, trying to work out where the sounds were coming from.

  “Lord Carrington,” he heard Miss Edgington whisper, her fingers now back to digging into his arm. “Pray that was not John.”

  He looked down into her white face, swallowing hard. “I think it is this way,” he muttered, patting her hand with numb fingers as they turned to walk around the corner. “It cannot be John. Surely not.”

  His mind began to work furiously as he hurried around the corner with Miss Edgington by his side. There were some small establishments here, and from what he remembered, this particular street was usually rather quiet. It held an apothecary, a bookshop and a small shop that seemed to sell a little bit of everything, but he could not imagine why John would be seeking to steal from those entering these places. It would be much too obvious, would it not? Surely that scream could not have come from his son.

  “Oh, Your Grace!”

  A lady stopped dead in the street, her eyes wide and one hand clapped to her mouth. He recognized her as one of his tenants, his heart dropping like a stone to his stomach.

  “I was just about to send someone to fetch you,” the lady whispered, her hand dropping to her side. “Your son, he is….” She looked behind her but Stephen did not wait for her to explain further. Instead, he dropped Miss Edgington’s arm and hurried forward, sick with fear. Miss Edgington was only a step or two behind him, following him quickly as he elbowed his way through the gathered crowd and to where an older gentleman was bending over the small, still form of a young boy.

  John.

  “John,” Stephen croaked, falling to his knees with such an agony bursting through his heart that he thought he might cry out aloud. “My son. What – what has happened?”

  The older gentleman looked at him but Stephen could not lift his eyes from his son.

/>   “You must be the Duke of Carrington,” he said, almost to himself. He projected a quiet calm, despite the precarious situation with the boy. “Good afternoon, Your Grace. You need not fear for your son. He is unconscious, that is all, although his arm will need to be properly examined.”

  Stephen closed his eyes, going hot all over with relief. “You mean, he is not….” He could not bring himself to say the word for fear that saying it might, in some way, make it true. He felt Miss Edgington’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, and he reached up to grasp at it, feeling a comfort rush into his soul.

  “Your son is not dead, Your Grace,” the older man said, firmly. “I am a doctor, you see. I was coming out of the bookshop and saw exactly what happened. He was thrown clear and he knocked his head on the wall. When he landed, he landed rather badly on his arm, but I have no doubt he will recover very well.”

 

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