'You have exactly three and twenty years to establish your lineage. Surely you don't wish any son that you produce to inherit before his majority? It's imperative you marry soon and start producing sufficient sons to continue the Sinclair name.'
His eyebrows crawled beneath his hair and she deeply regretted her intemperate words. Giving such a gentleman instruction on how he should conduct himself wasn't a sensible idea. Before he could give her the set down she richly deserved she attempted to snatch her arm free. His free hand gripped hers and prevented this.
'Plain-speaking indeed, my dear, but as you spoke from the heart, I'll not take serious offence. However, might I suggest that you refrain from giving me orders? I don't take kindly to being told what to do by a mere slip of a girl.'
'I do apologise for speaking out of turn, your grace…'
His hands transferred to her elbows and he spun her to face him. 'If you refer to me again by that ridiculous appellation I'll not answer for the consequences. You will use my given name – is that quite clear?'
'Very well, Richard, I'll endeavour to do so. But when you look so fierce it's hard to refer to you informally. Did you know that you make me quite nervous when you're angry?'
'Then it's I who must apologise. I've spent too long giving orders and expecting them to be obeyed instantly. In future I'll endeavour to be less dictatorial and more considerate in my dealings with you all.'
'And I promise to try and remember not to give you instructions as to what you should be doing. I know our situations are in no way similar, but for the past two years I've been in charge of the household and also expect my wishes to be followed to the letter.'
He chuckled. 'Then that's another thing we have in common.'
She was puzzled by this remark as she could think of nothing else they shared.
'I was referring to our familial looks, my dear, in case you were wondering.'
*
Richard found this young lady a constant surprise and the more time he spent with her the better he liked her. She was outspoken, amusing and as sharp-witted as he was himself. He had thought her plain on first acquaintance, but that opinion had also changed. She didn't have the obvious beauty of her sisters, but she had something else, something he was finding it hard to define.
Yes – she had elegance and grace. Her looks would not fade with time, but improve. Her glorious nut-brown hair was indeed her crowning glory and her pale green eyes were quite beautiful. God's teeth! This would not do – this would not do at all. He was her guardian, stood in the same position as her father had, he mustn't think of her in any way other than as a sister.
'I think of you like my dearest sister; therefore I value your opinion above all others. I've no intention of marrying until I have to, so would be honoured and delighted to have you live with me indefinitely. Even if I do decide to raze this monstrosity to the ground what replaces it will be more than big enough to accommodate you all as well as any wife and children I might have in the future.'
Somehow, he'd expected her to be dismayed by his remark but instead her smile was radiant. 'I think of you as an older brother too. I always wanted a brother and I know that you've had no close family to rely on.' She tilted her head and for some reason this made his pulse leap. 'As your "dearest sister" I'll be always on the lookout for the perfect wife for you. No, do not poker up at me, Richard. It's my job to find you someone suitable, as it is yours to keep my sisters safe from fortune hunters and rakes.'
Chapter Seven
Amanda was glad she'd got the matter settled between them as she was finding him a very unsettling sort of gentleman. Mind you, her experience of gentlemen of any sort was somewhat limited. For some inexplicable reason the image of him unclothed came unbidden into her head. She released his arm as if it was red hot and ran up the steps in front of him and into the house is if desperate to see what changes he intended to make to her ancestral home.
In fact, she cared little about this house. Even her father, who was everything one would expect from a Duke of Denchester, had more than once threatened to pull the house down and start again. There were so many rooms, passageways and staircases she was certain he had never been able to set foot in every corner of his house – she certainly hadn't.
Fortunately, by the time he caught up her composure was restored and her cheeks no longer flaming.
'I'd not thought you so interested in the changes I propose, Amanda.'
'I'm not interested in changes to this inconvenient and enormous edifice but in what you intend to replace it with.'
'Then once again, my dear, we're in complete accord. I just hope that the duchess is so easily pleased.'
The architects had overheard their conversation and were hastily rolling up one set of plans and replacing them with another. She quite forgot her determination to keep her distance from him as they studied the exciting drawings together.
'I love this new building. Twelve apartments as well as a number of single bedchambers is more than enough. To have rooms set aside purely for bathing will be a luxury indeed.' She hurried on as she realised she shouldn't have mentioned something so indelicate. 'And to have the kitchen near enough to the dining rooms for food to arrive still hot will please even my mother.'
'Come, in order to understand these more clearly we need to go outside.'
'I'm pleased that you intend to use as much of the demolished building as is possible. It will give a sense of continuity.'
They were obliged to walk through the old-fashioned parterre, across the grass to the ornamental lake in order to be able to see the entire house.
'The oldest part, that built in the time of Queen Elizabeth, isn't visible from the front. It's been built around but is still there with its low ceilings and black beams. The left side was added at the time of King James and the right more recently – about a hundred years ago I think.'
'When was the Dower House built?'
'My grandfather replaced the original, so no more than forty years – it's positively modern compared to the rest. I cannot imagine why anyone would wish to dwell in a place the size of the Hall.'
'But surely where you are living now isn't large enough to entertain on any scale.'
'Which is a bonus as far as I'm concerned. We had a delightful gathering just before Christmas and easily accommodated forty people. I dislike anything larger than that.'
'Then you will be dreading our sojourn in London as much as I am. Does Sarah wish to find herself a husband this year or will we have to repeat the process again next?'
'What she intends to do is to enjoy flirting and gallivanting around the place in a pretty gown – she told me that she's in no hurry to find herself a partner.'
'Tarnation take it! Are you telling me we must endure weeks of stuffy ballrooms, inane chatter and all the rest of that nonsense in order that your sister might enjoy herself?'
He sounded so disgusted that she laughed. 'Don't be so curmudgeonly, Richard. It's a rite of passage for all well-bred young ladies. Once they're married their freedom has gone – they will be more restricted than they were as daughters and have – unless they are very lucky – an infant every year until they most likely die of exhaustion.'
For a second he thought her serious and then he joined in her laughter. 'Are you suggesting that if I eventually enter parson's mousetrap that when I've produced sufficient male heirs to secure the succession, I'm obliged to find myself a ladybird?'
'This is a highly unsuitable conversation for us to be having, sir, I don't know why I started it. Now, shall we return to the reason we came out here?'
They spent a further convivial time together discussing the finer points of architecture and were in complete concord about the size, positioning and shape of the future home of the Sinclairs.
'Come riding with me, Amanda, you can show me around the estate. I've spoken to my factor and perused the accounts, but I need to meet my tenants for myself.'
'Papa was a good landlord and e
nsured that the well-being of his villagers and those in his employment were always taken care of.'
'That is patently obvious from what I've observed myself. Exactly how many villages are there on this estate?'
'Just the two – Denchester and Marleybridge. Denchester has around one hundred inhabitants but Marley is more a hamlet and has less than half that number. There are a dozen farms, all profitable, and the estate stretches to over one thousand acres. Of course, I haven't included the other properties that are elsewhere in the country.'
'How can all this be run by just one person? Who has been taking care of everything in my absence?'
'Morrison is the chief factor but he has half a dozen men working for him. Papa left the day-to-day running of affairs to him. The London lawyers have held the purse strings tight not allowing me to approve any renewals or refurbishments in the neighbourhood. There will be, no doubt, many disgruntled villagers who have been awaiting repairs for too long.'
'I'd have thought there would be enough money in the coffers locally to take care of minor matters like repairing the roof of a cottage or two. This is something I'll investigate when in Town next month.'
'Now that you mention it, Richard, it's odd Morrison wasn't able to continue with his duties as he should. I wonder if he's been feathering his own nest these past two years? His father held the position for three decades but he has only been in charge of the estates for three years so I don't know him well.'
'I was impressed by his efficiency but he too will be investigated in more detail before we leave. Now, how long does it take you to change into your habit?'
'I'll be at the stables by the time both horses are tacked up and ready. Which reminds me, has your man abandoned you and returned to his military life?'
'Not at all. He's gone to London on business for me. In future he will be my man of affairs, I've appointed the young man you sent to me as my permanent valet.'
'James will be thrilled at his elevation. He's worked for the family since he was a boot boy and his father before him.'
He checked his pocket watch, not gold but silver and looking the sadly the worse for wear. She would give him papa's gold watch – he was the duke now and must look the part.
*
There was no need for Richard to make his way around to the stables for half an hour at least as he knew full well that he was in for a considerable wait. Ladies took an unconscionable time to change their raiment and he was certain Amanda was no different.
He went in search of the architects in order to ensure that they knew exactly what they were to do. After a lengthy discussion about the merits of various local builders and labourers he spoke to the housekeeper and butler. They seemed somewhat startled when he informed them that the house must be emptied of furniture from top to bottom.
'Yes, your grace, but where would you like us to put everything whilst the new house is built?'
'By the time it's all wrapped in cloth of some sort and brought down to the entrance hall I shall have found a place where it can be stored for the next year or so.' The housekeeper looked unconvinced but curtsied and hurried away to get things set in motion.
The butler remained behind. He looked uncomfortable. 'What is it, man? Don't dither about – tell me at once what's bothering you?'
'I should like to tender my resignation, your grace. I don't want to be here when this magnificent building is knocked down.'
'I understand why you wish to go. I'll see you have a decent pension and somewhere warm and comfortable to live out your days.'
The old man bowed. 'I thank you, your grace, your generosity is much appreciated. I shall remain to oversee the packing but will depart as soon as that is completed if that is acceptable to you?'
Although some of the reception rooms were sparsely furnished it was still going to need an enormous barn of some sort to put everything. He'd yet to explore the attics and there was usually a plethora of interesting items hiding up there.
He was about to go to investigate the uppermost regions of this vast place when he heard the distinct clatter of horses approaching. He wasn't expecting visitors, so who the hell could it be?
He wandered to the front door and to his astonishment saw Amanda, riding astride her stallion and leading the chestnut gelding he'd brought back from the stud the other day. He wasn't sure which bothered him the most – the fact that she'd appeared so swiftly or that she was riding like a gentleman and not using a side-saddle.
She tossed him his reins. He gathered them up and sprung into the saddle without comment.
'If you're looking so poker-faced because I'm riding like this then firstly, it's none of your business and secondly, this is a divided skirt made especially for me and not an iota of ankle will be visible.'
He reached out and grabbed Othello's bit bringing the stallion hard up against his own mount. 'I don't give a damn what saddle you use here but anywhere else you'll ride as expected.' He had her full attention and chose his words carefully. 'Until you reach your majority, I am your legal guardian and you're my responsibility. You will do as I say. I suggest that you bear that in mind.'
He released her horse and it took off from a standstill to an extended canter in one smooth movement leaving him to stare in admiration at her horsemanship.
He urged Rufus, his gelding, after her and they thundered across the grass at a flat gallop. Despite his expertise he wasn't gaining an inch. She vanished down a narrow path between the trees. She had run mad – to travel at breakneck speed between trees might well prove fatal for both rider and horse.
He slowed his pace a little and entered the woodland expecting to see her on the dirt ahead of him. Instead, what he saw was an empty track and no sign of her at all. He reined back to a sensible pace and examined the soft ground for evidence of hoof prints. These were easy to track and he followed them not sure if his tension was caused by fury or anxiety.
After half a mile the track widened and divided, one part going right to the other left. He was leaning from the saddle searching for clues as to which path she'd taken when Rufus shied and he pitched head first to the ground. Instinctively he curled and landed on his shoulders – his dignity the only part of him that was hurt.
He rolled to his feet and brushed the dirt from his person. He'd committed the cardinal sin of releasing his hold on the reins. Rufus was nowhere in sight. He cursed under his breath as he examined the churned-up ground in an attempt to distinguish the hoof prints of his horse from that of hers.
This was an impossible task. He was standing in the centre of the track when she appeared on the right-hand path leading his errant gelding.
'Are you hurt? What happened? Was it my fault you took a fall?'
She dropped from the saddle and handed him his reins. Her anxiety was genuine and this touched him deeply.
'It was my own stupidity, sweetheart, I was leaning down when a pheasant flew up beneath our feet and you can imagine what happened next.'
'Then it was my fault and you have every right to be angry with me. I'm not known for my impetuosity, sir, and have no notion why I behaved as I did. I do know better than to travel through trees at speed and I'm lucky not to have broken my neck by doing so.'
'I'm not angry any more. Shall we remount and then you can direct us to the village?' He turned his back on her, not offering to take her boot and toss her into the saddle as he wanted to see if she would ask for his help.
When he glanced over his shoulder she was already mounted and smiling sweetly at him.
'If we take the left-hand path it leads to the village. There's a stile we have to jump into a field but I'm sure that will prove no obstacle to either of us.'
*
Amanda was beginning to understand him better now and in future would do her best to avoid doing anything that might make him angry. He couldn't be considered a close relation, but he was head of the family, and if he wished to, he could make all their lives unpleasant.
Perhaps she should
have asked him to help her into the saddle and not been so independent – too late to repine – she would do her best to smooth things over between them during their ride.
'The female guerrillas, and there are many, in Spain wear a similar garment to yours. They all ride astride as it's safer when going up the steep mountain tracks.'
'I saw an illustration of one such a garment in a journal of my father's and had my seamstress copy it. My horse goes as well under a side-saddle as he does with this.'
'I've been thinking about our transfer next month – would you like to take your stallion?'
'I should love to but I think it better not. What's acceptable on one's own demesne will be frowned upon in Town.'
'Then what will you ride when you go out with me?'
She was surprised that he intended to spend so much time with her and wasn't sure if this was sensible or not. 'Last time I was there my father hired hacks for us. Sarah doesn't care to ride but she does enjoy going out in an open carriage, as does Beth.'
'We can hardly travel all the way in one – is it possible to hire what you want?'
'There's a high-perch phaeton, a brougham and a curricle in the coach house there. Papa was an excellent whipster and often took me out in the phaeton.' She hesitated before she revealed that she too could handle the reins as well as anyone. However, this observant gentleman immediately recognised her reluctance to continue and correctly interpreted the reason.
'Do you drive?'
'I do, and have even handled a four in hand but I prefer to drive a smaller vehicle rather than a travelling carriage. In case you're wondering, I only drove in London at dawn when nobody was around to see.'
'Then I suggest that we continue this practice. However, I've no intention of allowing you to handle the reins of the phaeton whatever your father might have done.'
She raised her whip and pointed to the hedge with the stile which could now be seen in the distance. 'Fortunately, one can see if pedestrians are approaching from the village before one jumps.' She stood in her stirrups and demonstrated her words. 'The field is clear – it's safe to go.'
The Duke's Ward (The Reluctant Duke Book 1) Page 6
