Duke In Disguise (The Stafford Sisters Book 1)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  Within minutes, the two girls returned with a tray of china cups and a pot of tea. Two of the cups were chipped he noticed as Aunt Ester poured out. She made sure that he received a flawless cup.

  Lifting a small pewter container, she gestured, asking him if he wished for cream.

  God, what had he gotten himself into? He was having tea with four women. What would his friends think if they ever found out? He’d be teased for the next dozen years.

  There were no cakes or desserts as his mother served at her teas. His insides suddenly hardened. No, there would be no such things in this home. These people lived too close to the edge to afford any such niceties.

  Shaking his head at the kind offer, he took the cup from her hands. The thing was small and fragile. A good squeeze and it would shatter into a thousand pieces.

  “So,” Aunt Ester said, “tell us about yourself, Mister Marlow.”

  “Aunt Ester,” Ann exclaimed with a pained look on her face.

  Daniel smiled, but before he could answer, Ann jumped in. “Don’t answer that. Mister Marlow is exploring the meaning of truth. And that is all we need to know.”

  He smiled at her, silently passing along his appreciation. God, the woman was beautiful, he thought as a need to kiss her filled him. Careful, he reminded himself. This was not the place nor time to lose control.

  “Well, what then will we talk about?” Isobel asked with a deep frown.

  Before he could answer, a massive burst of lightning flashed outside, followed almost immediately by a loud boom that shook the house.

  Everyone froze as they looked up at the ceiling wondering if the house would fall down around them.

  Ann jumped up and said, “Isobel, the upstairs. Take the pan. Lydia, the kitchen.” Both young girls jumped up and scampered off to do their sister’s bidding. Leaks, he realized as young Isobel carried a wide basin from the kitchen up the stairs.

  He must tell Brookenham about this. It was the Earl’s responsibility to make sure these women lived in a safe environment.

  “A lamp, I should think,” Aunt Ester said to Ann. “It is getting rather dark.”

  She was right, he realized. The house had grown darker as the storm covered their home.

  Ann nodded and pulled a lamp off the mantle and lit a long piece of kindling over the fire before transferring the flame to the lamp. No sooner had she finished than both of the younger girls rushed in, obviously eager to not miss a word.

  Daniel smiled to himself. He had almost no experience around such young women. He did not normally meet them until they had been formally introduced at court. By then, they were guarded. On a mission.

  These two appeared to be as open and curious as their sister.

  He smiled and took another sip of tea.

  “Are you from London, sir?” Aunt Ester said with a raised eyebrow.

  He nodded slowly, his accent had obviously given himself away.

  “Yes, I have spent a great deal of time there,” he said as his stomach tightened.

  Lydia gasped slightly as she stared at him, “Is it as wonderful as they say?”

  He smiled to himself. Her sister had used the exact same words. He had never wondered what the rest of England thought of their capital. To him, it had always just been home. But to these people, it was something more. Some golden city.

  “It is rather special,” he said as a strong desire filled him to please these young women. They had so little in life.

  So, he told them of the sights and sounds of London. The museums. The massive bridges. The palaces and churches. The markets and people. As he talked, he spun a web of wonder around them.

  The four of them hung on his every word.

  “Birmingham was not like that,” Lydia said when he had at last finished. “It was dirty, and brown brick, that is what I remember.”

  “Oh, London can be dirty, as well,” he added when he realized he had made it sound too perfect. “There are too many horses. And the smell during the summer can be quiet overwhelming. And of course, the people live too close together. Crammed into a tight place. Each of them striving and fighting, just like the rest of the world. But it is special all the same.”

  The four women sat back, each thinking about what he had told them.

  Suddenly, Isobel sat forward, “Oh, Oh, I forgot to tell you,” she said to her sisters. “there is to be a dance. At the main house. Next Saturday. The new Earl is giving it. The Vicar and the council are being invited. Along with some of the farmers. And …”

  Everyone studied her as they held their breath.

  “So is Aunt Ester,” Isobel added. “Misses Thompson, the housekeeper told me to tell you.”

  Aunt Ester’s eyes grew very big. Ann shot Lydia a quick glance of worry. He could tell that they were concerned that this would be an opportunity for the Earl to turn them out.

  “And,” Isobel said with a secret smile, “she said that she was to bring her niece.”

  “What?” Ann exclaimed. “Are you sure? Were those her exact words?”

  Isobel nodded with a wide smile.

  “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?” Lydia demanded.

  “I forgot,” Isobel said with a shrug.

  “The most important news in the last year, and you forgot. How could you?”

  “Girls,” Aunt Ester said, obviously reigning them in before their disagreement became an argument.

  “Oh, I am so jealous,” Lydia said to her sister. “A dance at the main house, it will be so wonderful.”

  Norwich watched as Ann’s brow slowly furrowed. “It doesn’t matter,” she said sadly. “I won’t be going. I have nothing appropriate to wear.”

  “We will find something,” Aunt Ester said. But he could tell by the looks on the younger girls’ faces that they agreed with their older sister.

  His insides rebelled at the idea of this woman being unable to experience the joys of life. Especially something she wanted so dearly.

  Ann glanced at him then smiled weakly.

  “Regardless,” she said, obviously trying to put on a brave face, “we have a guest. Mister Marlow, please tell us more of London.”

  It was obvious to him that Ann wanted to change the subject. Preferable to something happy and uplifting. He sighed internally and started telling them more stories about London, being careful to avoid mention of parties and fashion.

  As he talked, be began to realize just how different her world was. No. More correctly. How different his world was. Ann’s was a typical existence. It was he that was unusual and out of place in this world.

  Taking the last sip of his tea he glanced up at the ceiling and smiled.

  “I do believe the storm has left us.”

  The four women froze for a moment, their ears searching, only to nod in agreement.

  “I really should be going,” he said as he stood and handed the cup back to Aunt Ester. A sense of relief washed over him. He had held the cup for over an hour without breaking it. A minor miracle in his opinion.

  “You must come again,” Aunt Ester said. “You tell such wonderful stories.”

  “Yes,” both Lydia and Isobel added hopefully.

  He simply smiled and dipped his head in acknowledgment of the compliment. He could not return. Not without risking exposure. Even this afternoon he had come close to letting things slip. What if he mentioned something about the palace? Or a funny story about the Prince Regent? They would see through him instantly.

  Ann looked up at him, her eyes boring into him as if trying to decipher a puzzle.

  “I will walk with you to the gate,” she said as she retrieved her shawl from the peg by the front door.

  He said his goodbyes. Bending at the waist slightly, honoring them for their kindness and hospitality. Both of the younger girls blushed prettily.

  As Ann closed the front door behind them, he looked up at the sky and was surprised to see the first star of the evening. He had been inside longer than he had thought. Such a pleasant aft
ernoon, he realized. So surprising in so many different ways.

  Ann pulled her shawl tight and let him lead the way to the gate. Once he was through, he turned to her and smiled.

  “I don’t suppose I could convince you to walk with me around the bend in the trail,” he said with a smirk.

  She understood him immediately and blushed furiously as she shook her head.

  He laughed, “Oh, well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

  Her laughing smile made him feel warm inside.

  “Daniel,” she said as she put a hand on his arm to stop him from leaving too quickly. “The dance, next weekend. The main estate might very well be looking for additional retainers. You might see if they are hiring.”

  He took a deep breath, oh how he wished he could tell her the truth. Instead, he said, “Ann, I am not a servant. I assure you. As I have said, I serve no master.”

  She slowly nodded as she accepted his words. “I understand. But surely, you need employment, purpose. No man can wander through life without meaning.”

  He laughed gently. “I promise you, Ann, many men do.”

  Her brow narrowed as she studied him, “Perhaps,” she said, “but you don’t. You are not such a man.”

  A bolt of shock sprang into him. No one had ever said something so complimentary, at least not without some alternative motive. No, she meant it. Every word. She saw him as a man of value. Of worth without knowing who he was.

  Remarkable, he thought as a happiness filled his soul.

  The two of them looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment until at last, he realized he must leave her before he dishonored her and therefore himself. Taking a deep breath, he smiled and took her hand.

  “Until next time, Miss Stafford.”

  She nodded as she smiled up at him. “Perhaps we will see you at church tomorrow,” she said with a hopeful hint.

  He shrugged, “Unfortunately, I have business in the next town over.”

  Her eyes quickly shifted over to doubt and concern. He could well imagine the thoughts racing through her mind. No man should miss church because of business. What was even more concerning, her eyes told him, was the possibility that if he visited another town, he might very well not return.

  The thought of her being upset at his absence pleased him, until he realized that very soon, he would be departing for good. Never forget, he told himself, this woman was not of his world.

  Gently holding her hand, he bent at the waist to kiss it. “Miss Stafford,” he said with a formal tone, unable to stop himself. “It has been an immense pleasure.”

  She blushed as she quickly glanced down, unable to meet his gaze.

  The fifth Duke of Norwich, Daniel Marlow, felt something inside of him shift. A combination of regret and loss. Sighing one last time, he turned to make his way to the inn. Behind him, he knew he was leaving someone special. Someone who deserved so much more.

  Chapter Eight

  As Daniel approached the stone bridge later that night, he once again wondered about Brookenham’s estates. Things were not as they appeared. Something was not right. The more he had looked at the land and people the numbers did not match up. It should be producing a lot more.

  “Here you go,” Brookenham said as he stepped out of the shadows and handed him a big thick leather ledger. “As you requested. It took an hour to get it away from my agent. He was so worried that I would lose it. And send the estate into chaos.”

  “Or afraid you would discover something,” Norwich said as he took the book from his friend’s hand.

  Brookenham laughed, “Not likely, it is all Greek to me.”

  Norwich smiled as he opened the book and tilted it to the moonlight. “Greek would be easier, I assure you.”

  The Earl nodded as he studied his friend. “So, Mother is organizing a country dance. Locals, you know the thing.”

  “I have heard,” Norwich said as he continued to decipher the contents of the book in the gloom.

  “I assume you will be coming,” Brookenham asked.

  Norwich slowly shook his head. “I think not,” he said. “I would prefer to discover the truth and depart without these people learning of my true identity.” The thought of Ann discovering the truth bothered him to his very core.

  Brookenham shook his head, “Mother will be upset, she has invited several people down from London.”

  Norwich shrugged his shoulder as he flipped a page. It was not his problem.

  “Here,” Brookenham said as he removed a silver flask from his coat. “I assume you are getting tired of the local ale.”

  Norwich laughed as he took the whiskey from his friend and downed a good dose.

  “God, that’s good. You have no idea how much I miss the whiskey carafe in my library.”

  Brookenham laughed as he took a swig from the flask.

  “I have another favor to ask,” Norwich said to his friend. It was vital that James not realize the importance of his request. “You have distant relatives living in a cottage down by the stream, on the other side of the orchard, an older woman, Ester, and her three nieces.”

  Brookenham nodded as he studied Norwich, “My agent mentioned them. There is no value in the land. Not unless we were to clear the forest and he says that the timber is worth more than farmland could produce. They have a small allowance. But it is trivial and I assure you not hurting the estate. I had no plan to make any changes.”

  Norwich nodded, “Yes, he is correct. But I want you to invite the four of them to the dance. The aunt and the older niece have been already been invited, but I want you to include the two younger sisters. It is a country dance and they are both old enough to attend. I am sure there will be others their age in attendance.”

  Brookenham’s brow furrowed as he tried to decipher his friend's request.

  “Don’t ask why. Just do it. And what is more, have your mother send them some gowns. I am sure she has more than enough. Things she hasn’t worn in ages. Or the old Earl’s deceased wife. Surely there should be something in the manor.”

  “Why?” Brookenham asked. Then his eyes grew very big. “The nieces, you are interested in one of them.”

  Norwich slowly shook his head. “I am not attending, remember. No, it is simply that they seem like nice people and deserve some happiness.

  Brookenham continued to study him, obviously not believing him. Norwich turned back to examining the book. Silence was best in a situation like this. The wrong word and his friend would see right through him.

  At last, the Earl nodded, “Very well, I will have Mother send them gowns. They will probably be out of style. But in this backwater, who will ever know.”

  Norwich sighed internally. “Yes, well, I am sure they can make the necessary adjustments.”

  Still, Brookenham continued to frown at him until he realized he would get no additional information. Sighing heavily, the Earl leaned on the stone rail and looked down at the dark water passing beneath the bridge.

  “Johnathon would have enjoyed this so much,” the Earl said quietly. “He would have enjoyed having the title.”

  Norwich looked up from the book and nodded. “He would have. But duty chooses the man.”

  Brookenham laughed slightly and pushed off the rail. “Yes,” he said at last, “I must be getting back.”

  Norwich nodded, “I will keep this a few days,” he said lifting the book. “I need to return to London. I have been away too long as it is. I should be back later this week. If possible.”

  Brookenham nodded. “Of course, and again, I do thank you for your assistance.”

  Norwich nodded absently, No, he thought. It has been his pleasure. If not for his friend’s cluelessness when it came to estates, he would never have met Ann. No, it was he who was indebted to his friend.

  As he turned to leave, he remembered what he had really wanted to tell Brookenham.

  “Also,” he said, stopping his friend’s departure. “Their roof leaks. You need to have someone fix tha
t.”

  Brookenham frowned for a second, then smiled. “Of course, Your Grace.”

  Daniel shook his head. Brookenham was probably learning too much about what was going on with Miss Ann. But at least her roof would keep out the rain.

  .o0o.

  Ann and her two sisters walked with Aunt Ester back from church. It was strange, Ann thought. This path would never be the same for her. There was the tree from which she fell into Daniel’s arms. And there was the spot he had kissed her for the very first time.

  Things would never be the same, she realized sadly. Now she would always know what she was missing.

  Sighing to herself, she looked up to find a man waiting outside their front gate. Dressed in the gray with red piping of the manor’s livery, she froze as a dozen fears flashed through her. Was he here to give them word that they had been cast off? That they were to be turned out?

  But what about the invitation to the party? Surely the new Earl would not have invited them if he intended for them to be forced out of their home.

  The man, in his mid-thirties, balding, saw them and said with a broad smile, “Miss Isobel. Ladies.”

  “Jack,” Isobel called out with happiness.

  That was the thing about her sister. She had never met a stranger. Without fail, once someone met her, they became a friend for life.

  Seeing her sister’s confusion, Isobel smiled, “Jack is a footman at the main house.”

  “I can see that,” Aunt Ester said with a frown. “But what is he doing here?”

  “Delivering these,” he said as he held out four letters. “And this,” he said, tapping a bundle at his feet.

  Ann frowned, something wasn’t right.

  “The new Countess send’s her apologies,” the footman said, “There was a mix up with the invitations.”

  Lydia gasped as she tore open the letter and began to read. Her eyes grew very big as her jaw dropped open.

  “I have been invited to the party,” she said slowly shaking her head.

  “I as well,” Isobel said with a large smile.

  Aunt Ester nodded, “I always did assume there had been an error.”

  Ann could only stare at the invitation in her hand. It didn’t solve the problem. Not really. Of course, it was nice to be invited. But they still could not go. Under no circumstances could they attend a dance at the main house. Not one of them owned a dress that was not patched. Or so threadbare that it was even worse. She would die before she did such a thing.