The Duke's Deception

by Fenella J Miller

  THE DUKE’S DECEPTION

  By

  Fenella J Miller

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any method, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of The Author - Fenella J. Miller

  The Duke’s Deception Copyright Fenella J. Miller, 2012

  This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’ s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.

  (Originally published as A DISSEMBLER)

  For Wendy Soliman a fellow Regency writer and good friend.

  Chapter One

  ‘What the devil do you want, Vincent, at this godforsaken time in the morning?’ Theodolphus, Archibald, Frederick, John, Rickham, seventh Duke of Wister, known to his friends as Wister, or just Theo, yawned hugely and propped himself up on one elbow to scowl at his valet who had had the temerity to disturb him at dawn.

  ‘I apologise, your grace, but the man was most insistent he speak to Sir Richard or Lady Devenish.’

  Theo shot out of bed. ‘Good God! This is a disaster. Did the man give his name?’

  Vincent held out a brocade dressing gown liberally woven with gold and Theo slipped his arms in. ‘I have some papers he gave me here, sir. He said they would explain everything.’

  The bundle of papers disappeared into Theo’s hand and he strode across to the candelabra. He flicked open the first and scanned its contents. He perused the next three, his eyebrows raised and his brow furrowed as he read.

  ‘Vincent, what have you done with the young lady?’

  ‘I asked Mrs Blake to conduct her and her abigail to the guest rooms in the east wing, your grace. I couldn’t leave her to sleep on the doorstep. The young men I sent round to the stables, they can find accommodation there.

  ‘Excellent man, you did exactly the right thing. The young lady is it says here, one Marianne Devenish, a great niece to Sir Richard and since her mother died she became his ward.’

  Vincent looked grim. ‘That has fairly put the cat amongst the pigeons has it not, your grace. What are you going to do?’

  Theo flung the papers aside angrily. ‘Quiet man, let me think, I cannot let the arrival of a stray schoolgirl ruin my plans.’

  He ran his hand absently through his hair and chewed his bottom lip deep in thought. Vincent left him to it. His valet was better employed warming up some water and stropping the razor ready for his morning shave.

  Theo paced the room his long strides taking him across and back in easy rhythm. This was a conundrum of the most unlikely kind. Spies and villains, traitors and ne’er do wells he could deal with - but a girl, scarce out in society, that was quite a different matter.

  He stared out of the window; the manicured lawns and elaborate old-fashioned knot gardens for once invisible to him. ‘I have no choice, dammit! I cannot turn the child away, but neither can I allow her to live here.’ He spoke aloud causing Vincent to pop his head round the dressing room door.

  ‘Did you call, your grace?’

  ‘No, come in and sit down. I need to talk to you.’

  With the ease of long acquaintance his manservant sat on a convenient chair and waited to be used, as many times before, as a sounding board for the duke’s machinations. Theo waited until he was settled.

  ‘Good man. It says Marianne is a substantial heiress and has been pursued by several gazetted fortune hunters and according to her maternal grandmother is in danger of finding

  herself abducted by one of them. In desperation she has been sent here, supposedly out of harm’s way and placed in the care of her great uncle Sir Richard Devenish whose long lost nephew and heir I’m supposed to be.’

  ‘That’s as maybe, you grace, but it’s a havey-cavey business arriving in the middle of the night with no luggage. Why didn’t they come in a carriage like normal folk?’

  ‘According to this letter there’s one bastard determined to have the girl, by force if necessary and that’s why they to travelled incognito. It seems it’s my job to keep her safe from him.’

  ‘Well, that explains one mystery. But it doesn’t solve the problem of how you’re going to take care of her. You can’t tell her you’re an impostor can you?’

  ‘No, I cannot. I have a vital job to do down here and must remain Sir Theodore Devenish until it’s completed.’ He paused, trying to make up his mind. ‘I have no choice, Vincent. I must assume responsibility for the girl, become her guardian and administer her trust funds as requested. At least until this work is done.’

  Vincent frowned. ‘If she’s a flighty miss you may have to give up precious time to supervise her. And she can’t stay here unless you can find an old tabby who can act as chaperone.’

  ‘I had thought to foist her off on the Griersons at Frating Hall. They have a parcel of youngsters and will hardly notice one extra.’ His valet was about to protest. ‘I intend to offer them an extremely generous remuneration for accommodating her. Lord Grierson has his dibs permanently out of tune. He will snap my hand off in his eagerness to take my ward into his family.’

  ‘Shall I get over to Frating Hall and inform Lord Grierson of your plans?’

  ‘I’ll write him a note explaining how things are. You can wait for his reply.’

  ‘Very well, your grace. Will you be wanting a shave before I leave?’

  ‘I’m quite capable of doing for myself.’ Theo grinned. ‘Don’t forget in private I’m not the foppish Sir Theo unable to do his cravat without assistance.’

  Vincent got to his feet unabashed by the reprimand. ‘I believe, your grace, you always say that in order to bamboozle anyone successfully the act must be kept up at all times in case one is disturbed unexpectedly.’

  ‘I haven’t the time to bandy words with you; I have a letter to write.’

  Twenty minutes later Theo headed downstairs. He was smooth cheeked and immaculate in his blue superfine coat, his brass buttons glinting in the morning light and a snowy forth of intricately tied cravat nestling under his chin. His top boots were so shiny he could, if he had so wished, seen his face in them. He was ready to greet the world. No one would have suspected he was anything other than a fashionable young buck rusticating in the country.

  He scowled as the morning sun glinted on his buttons. He would be relieved when he could dispense with such dandyism and return to his plainer garb. He sauntered down the stairs and remembered to soften his footsteps and pause to admire himself in the mirror placed conveniently above an inlaid mahogany side table upon which a silver salver rested.

  He glanced through the pile of cards noting with dismay he had already received two invitations to dine, one to attend a summer ball, plus a miscellaneous group merely indicating the person had called.

  He had only been in residence a few days but word had spread like wildfire round the village and surrounding area. The arrival of an unattached, personable, baronet of eight and twenty who had a reasonable income and comfortable estate, brought out all the husband seeking matrons with daughters of marriageable age.

  He bent flicking an imaginary speck of dust from his boots and pondered not for the first time why he had allowed himself to be talked into this escapade. He was more used to pursuing his treacherous quarries in France, not a sleepy Essex village. Somewhere in the neighbourhood a traitor was sending and receiving vital information which could prove disastrous to the war effort.

  Even with the British Navy in control of the high seas France could still spring a surprise attack. The barracks
at Colchester could be one of the sources but it seemed a local family was involved as well. His job was to infiltrate the circle of landed gentry and minor aristocracy in his persona as “Sir Theodore Devenish”. He was a man about town, a proclaimed whipster and gambler forced to take temporary refuge in his newly acquired country manor until his next quarter’s funds arrived and he was flush in the pockets once more.

  He strolled to the library smiling kindly on the elderly butler and footman he passed. Once there he rang the bell. He needed to speak to the housekeeper, there was information she had that he wanted.

  Blake curtsied and folded her hands politely over her pristine apron, her plump face framed by an equally crisp white cap. ‘You wished to see me, sir?’

  ‘Come in, Blake, I’ll not keep you from your duties for long. So glad you could toddle along to see me.’ He waved a languid hand indicating she should seat herself on the wooden chair adjacent to the heavy desk behind which he lolled, a fatuous smile on his face.

  ‘Blake, the young lady, Miss Devenish, she is my ward. It would appear I have inherited her along with the estate from old Uncle Richard.’ The housekeeper nodded and waited, no doubt unsure if she was expected to comment but not wishing to presume.

  ‘Now, Blake, tell me, is she Friday faced? If I am to squire her about it will be uncommon shabby if she is not up to snuff, would it not?’

  Blake’s mouth pursed. ‘Well, sir, she is very like yourself. The family resemblance is quite striking.’

  Theo’s eyes narrowed but he maintained his leisurely pose, legs outstretched, one resting on the other. ‘Like me you say? What, has she guinea gold curls and periwinkle blue eyes?’

  ‘Indeed she has, sir. As pretty as a picture she is. But as to her form, that was hard to distinguish under the thick cloak she was wearing. But she is above medium height for she quite towered over me of that I’m quite sure.’

  ‘And her speech? Pray do not tell me this paragon sounded vulgar and untutored?’

  ‘Oh no, sir. She was as well-spoken as yourself. A proper lady if I may be so bold as to say so. It’s a strange thing to come with no luggage but what they carried in the saddle packs.’

  ‘Pon my word - do you say so? I understand that females need a substantial wardrobe even

  in such a restricted society as this.’ He swept his fingers elegantly through his curls and closed his eyes, as if perplexed by the problem.

  ‘I have it. Lady Grierson shall organize it for me. She will know exactly how to go about things.’ He beamed at his housekeeper. ‘If I supply the blunt she can rig herself and her eldest daughter out in style at the same time.’

  ‘Does the young lady know she’s to reside elsewhere, sir?’

  ‘No, not yet. I will inform her of the arrangements when I return from my ride, if she has risen by then. See the few garments she has are presentable. Inform the kitchen I will not be dining in tonight.’

  Blake stood, bobbed and departed obviously well satisfied with the exchange of news.

  *

  It was late afternoon before Jane was summoned to the guest wing to attend her young mistress.

  ‘How are you, Miss Marianne? I’ve ordered bath water to be sent up immediately and there’s food here for you.’

  The accompanying maidservant smiled and placed a laden tray on the side table under the window. ‘If you require something else, Miss Devenish, please send down to the kitchen. Cook says she can find most anything.’

  ‘Thank you, I’m sure what I have will do.’ The door which led to the dressing room closed behind the maid.

  ‘Marianne Devenish! How I love that name. Martha Marianne Devenish Frasier is no more. From this moment on I shall always consider myself as Marianne. I prefer the name to Martha anyway.’

  ‘I’ve pressed your gown, miss, and laid it out ready,’ her abigail told her.

  The sound of clanking buckets heralded the arrival of the bath water. When Bentley Hall had been constructed by the previous owner all modern conveniences had been installed. A bathroom, its door situated beside the dressing room, meant only the hot water had to be carried up the back stairs. The dirty water took itself away.

  ‘I will eat after I have bathed and dressed, Jane. Have you met my Great Uncle, Sir Richard Devenish?’

  ‘No, miss, but John has and he wishes to speak to you urgently, as soon as you are ready to receive him.’

  ‘Excellent. Send word to him to come up to my parlour. I do have a private sitting-room, I hope?’

  ‘Yes, miss, it’s through the far door. A very pretty, well-appointed room it is too.’

  Marianne’s sole garment was far short of what was usual for a well-bred and wealthy young lady. But the old-fashioned cut with its low waist and full skirt did emphasise her slim figure and the tailored bodice, although high necked, fitted snugly over her abundant curves.

  But the material, a faded cotton damask of an indeterminable shade halfway between pink and cerise, did nothing to enhance her appearance. Thoughtfully she fingered the skirt determined this would be the last hideous gown she should be obliged to wear. She was an heiress and intended to dress the part.

  She scowled as she recalled her past few years. Mama had been an invalid and not particularly maternal when she was well and she had never known her papa. Mama had refused to spend money on refurbishing her wardrobe. When her mother had finally passed on, she too had been passed on to her grandmother who had even less interest in fashion and enjoyment than her mother had.

  She had swapped one boring existence for another. Although in Bath she at least had the opportunity to walk and ride without supervision and consequently had made several undesirable acquaintances. A lovely heiress, however badly dressed, was an immediate target for all the least reputable of Bath’s male population. It had been John who drew Mrs Devenish’s attention to the impending ruin of her granddaughter. This prompted the lady to dispatch her troublesome relation to the care of her only male relative, not requiring Marianne to return anytime soon.

  Jane appeared from the bedchamber. ‘John’s on his way up, Miss Marianne.’

  ‘Thank you, Jane. I own I’m eager to discover to whom Grandmamma has entrusted me.’

  A sharp tap indicated John Smith, her man of affairs and Jane’s devoted spouse, had arrived.

  ‘Come in, John. Tell me, I’m bursting with curiosity, how did Sir Richard take the unexpected arrival of a distant relative?’

  ‘He didn’t, miss. He’s dead. He died last year.’

  Marianne’s hands flew to her mouth. ‘Oh dear! What a disaster! If I cannot stay here wherever shall we go? I cannot trail about the place like a vagrant.’

  ‘Here, miss, you’ve gone quite pale, sit down. I’ll fetch you a glass of cordial.’ Jane took Marianne’s elbow and escorted her to the chintz covered daybed. John dropped down to one

  knee his weather-beaten face creased with concern.

  ‘There, there, miss, don’t fret. All will be well, it’s not as bad as it seems.’ He squeezed her

  hands. ‘Come now, take a deep breath, dry your eyes and let me explain how things are.’

  Marianne swallowed hard, fighting to gain her composure. Eventually she looked up and withdrew her hands from John’s light grasp. ‘Thank you, John, I’m quite recovered. You can continue. I’m ready to hear the worst.’ He rocked back on his heels and stood up.

  John cleared his throat importantly. ‘The gentleman in residence is one Sir Theodore Devenish, Sir Richard’s heir. He arrived here himself but a short while ago. It would seem he’s a swell of the first stare but without the wherewithal to maintain it. He’s only here to rusticate until his next quarter’s funds are available.’

  Marianne frowned. ‘I can hardly stay here if this is a bachelor establishment. And a member of the ton will not wish to be saddled with a young ward. Far too fatiguing!’

  John smiled. ‘He has pockets to let. He’ll be delighted to have access to your trust fund. I heard in the stables he h
as sent his man over to a place nearby called Frating Hall to ask a Lord and Lady Grierson to take you in. They have a house full of hopeful sons and daughters and not enough blunt to push them off.’

  Marianne almost laughed. ‘And how many more importunates are to dip their greedy hands into my fortune? There will be nothing left to inherit by the time I am one and twenty!’

  ‘As your man-of affairs I can assure you no one can touch the principle and there’s more than enough interest accrued to cover all your expenses and plenty over for Sir Theodore and Lord and Lady Grierson too.’

  ‘I’m delighted to hear it. It will be a novel experience to live in a large and happy household. I thought Grandmamma was being horribly unkind to send me away but now I’m glad she did.’ She shuddered as she recalled her last meeting with the repellent baronet, Sir James Russell, who had almost succeeded in carrying her off in his carriage. ‘Tell me, what manner of man is Sir Theodore?’

  ‘There’s no doubting your relationship. He has the self-same colour hair and eyes. He could be your brother.’

  ‘Well, we are related very distantly, so it’s not so out of the ordinary to look alike. But what manner of man is he? Is he a man of sense or a mere tulip of fashion?’

  ‘I’m not the best judge of that, miss. But I can tell you he is well over six feet and has broad shoulders and a well turned calf. As to the rest, you had best judge for yourself.’

  ‘I see, as bad as that!’ She grinned. ‘Never mind, as long as he’s pleasant and leaves me to get on with my life, I’ll be well satisfied with the bargain.’

  ‘In my opinion Sir Theodore’s more interested in the cut of his jacket than anything else. And that came from Weston’s and no mistake! But he looks harmless enough. And me and the lads will be close by to protect you if that bounder shows his face, never doubt that.’

  ‘I know you will, John and I am grateful for it. Will you be able to accompany me to Frating Hall?’

  ‘We’re coming, never you fear, miss. Lord Grierson will be happy to have three men and a maid servant employed that he doesn’t have to pay out of his own pocket. He’ll not complain