The Duke's Dilemma

by Fenella J Miller

  ‘Very well, it will do no good to argue, I can see your mind’s made up on the matter. However, I’m adamant I’ll dress appropriately when I do decide to come down to dine; you can be sure his grace will not appear in his riding boots and topcoat. Haven’t you noticed that for all he says he’s a plain man, his clothes are made by Weston and his shirts are of the finest cotton.’

  She stopped, flustered, knowing she had revealed far too much and wasn’t surprised that her friend smiled and resumed her breakfast with renewed relish.

  *

  The sun glittered on the snow making it hard to gaze any distance without being dazzled. Ralph reined in, standing in his stirrups in order to see over the hedge that boarded the lane.

  ‘Look, that farm over there, it has several large barns – the horses could be hidden inside there. There’s smoke coming from the chimney stack so someone’s in residence.’

  ‘It’s the first place we’ve come to that looks a possibility, your grace. That last village we passed was deserted – and the other man vanished into thin air yesterday just like all the others.’

  Ralph didn’t wish to be reminded, they had rescued the girl and that had to be enough. ‘Forget about it, Robin. Consider - we’re within a mile of the coast. What would the sound of horses mean to these folk?’ When his man looked puzzled, he chuckled. ‘Customs officers, that’s who they thought we were. This is smugglers’ territory; they must go in permanent fear of being raided by the excise men. I don’t doubt that all the men in this village are eking out their miserable existence by being involved in illegal trading. They’ll not have seen or heard anything; they’ve learnt to look the other way.’

  The farm showed signs of earlier activity. There were footprints, black in the snow, leading to the privy at the rear and also further tracks to one of the larger buildings. Ralph kicked his feet from the stirrups, dropping to the ground, glad his boots were watertight.

  ‘Robin, take James and go and search the barns whilst I speak to the occupants of this hovel.’

  They both carried a pair of pistols, primed and ready. He felt more comfortable knowing there were fully armed men behind him.

  He waited whilst Tom tethered both horses to a convenient rail and then strode to the door and hammered on it. There was no response. He thumped again; this time there were sounds of shuffling feet in the passageway. The door opened slowly and a wizened face peered round.

  ‘You come for them dratted ‘orses at last? They been ‘ere long enough, I ain’t going out in this weather to feed ‘em again, that’s for sure. I weren’t paid enough to do for them when it’s bitter.’ The hunched old man nodded to emphasize his words and then slammed the door in Ralph’s face.

  Nonplussed, he stared at the peeling wood, not sure if he was outraged or amused. He heard a smothered laugh and swung round.

  ‘Well, Tom, at least we know we’ve come to the right place. Whoever arranged for the horses to be stabled here obviously didn’t intend for them to be here so long.’

  ‘I’m not sure, your grace; isn’t it possible they don’t care if the horses were discovered? This is the first place anyone would look.’

  ‘No, I think the bad weather has delayed them. Whoever left them intends to return at some point. I’m certain were not expected to find them so quickly. The old man was probably not paid for more than a few days.’

  He walked, almost knee deep in places, through the snow and found the other two in the barn examining the missing beasts. The horses looked cold and miserable in their unaccustomed squalor.

  Robin greeted him cheerfully. ‘I recognize the greys, your grace, these are definitely the animals Miss Culley uses to pull her carriage. They’ve not been looked after. James is searching for some rope, I think we can lead them back if we take three each. I reckon, Tom, you’ll have to go back into town and find some more men to act as grooms.’

  The horses were led out. The first of each trio had a second lead rein attached to their halter allowing a man to lead his small group. Ralph prayed they could get the horses, and themselves, back without mishap.

  He wondered if he should leave someone here to see who came back to collect the animals but decided against it. He was seriously short of manpower and every instinct told him this was only the beginning. The man orchestrating these events had intended he should be unnerved, that he would think the strange disappearance witchcraft or some other such fustian, but he had now disproved that theory. What he didn’t know was why his aunt had left; what he did know was that she hadn’t been spirited away by ghosts. There were no ghosts Neddingfield Hall.

  He didn’t have time to ponder about who had left the horses; he was fully occupied keeping himself in the saddle and hanging on to the three he was leading. He became aware as they approached the Hall that there was no longer any need to drag the Neddingfield mounts, they recognized they were approaching home and began to increase their pace knowing a warm stall and good food awaited them.

  This presented a problem of its own. The fourth time the horses surged forward, trying to rush past, causing a blockage in the narrow lane, Ralph decided to take action before one of them was hurt.

  ‘All of you, release the leads; let them find their own way. It will be safer for us.’

  The three men responded to his suggestion with alacrity. Their sleeves must be as full of snow as his and their boot tops also. In spite of his gloves his fingers were numb to the bone and hanging on to the lead rein had become increasingly difficult. His left arm felt as if it had been wrenched from its socket several times in the past hour. It would be impossible to release the horses whilst still mounted. He remained where he was, leaving Robin to organize matters for him.

  He smiled at his man’s antics whilst taking the opportunity to shake as much of the snow from his person as he could. ‘I’ll leave you in charge, Robin. I’ll head back and let them know what to expect.’ He looked round, whistling loudly. Jet loped into sight and together they set off towards the Hall.

  Ralph considered what he’d discovered. He could have gone in and shaken a little more information out of the old man but not enough to make to make such brutal treatment acceptable. He would never willingly harm anyone weaker than himself. He let Thunder have his head; the horse was as sure footed and as eager to return as he was.

  He had been through the study examining every piece of paper but had discovered nothing to give him a clue as to his aunt’s whereabouts. His cousin was right; the missing people had been taken to the coast and then embarked on a ship.

  Like an icy chill one piece of the puzzle unexpectedly fell into place. Was it possible the letters Cousin Hester and he had received summoning them to Neddingfield had not been written by his aunt? This was the one thing he hadn’t checked. As soon as he got back he would find Aunt Agatha’s diary and compare it with the letter he had in his room. Someone had wished to lure them here. He glanced over his shoulder as if expecting to be ambushed at any moment.

  Chapter Eight

  Hester was in the study reading her aunt’s diary when her cousin burst in. ‘Good heavens, you’re dripping wet! Aren’t you going to change your clothes before joining me?’

  He stopped and looked down at his mud-spattered breeches then shook his head, grinning. ‘If you’ve no objection, my dear, I shall remain as I am. I did take time to remove my greatcoat and gloves, which will have to suffice.’

  Intrigued, she laid the book down, waiting to be enlightened.

  ‘Is that Aunt Agatha’s diary you have in front of you? It’s what I came in to see.’

  Hester noticed he had a square of folded paper in his hand and understood his mission. ‘The letters, of course! They must be forgeries, nothing else makes sense. I’m afraid I don’t have mine to compare, it’s back at Draycot.’

  He came across to join her by the desk, smoothing out the missive as he did so. She opened the book and waited expectantly for him to place the it down. When he did so she felt a wave of disappointm
ent.

  ‘Oh dear, we’re wrong. This is by the same hand. Look - the ink’s identical and I believe the same quill was used, I can see the blobs and splatters on the last page of the diary are the same as those in your letter.’

  Ralph grabbed another straight-backed chair and brought it over so that he could sit next to her. ‘I’m not so sure. There are differences. See, the S in the letter is quite different.’ His finger stabbed at the letters and she felt a thrill of excitement.

  ‘Yes, you’re right and the signature is not the same either. If I recall correctly Aunt Agatha always added a swirl underneath her name. There’s none here.’

  He slapped his hand on the desk making her jump. ‘My God, you’re right. This letter wasn’t sent by Aunt Agatha, but by whoever spirited her away. At least one part of the puzzle is solved.’

  His arm was pressing close to hers and his heat burnt through her sleeve. He stilled and she glanced upwards, seeing a strange expression on his face; then he was on his feet and striding up and down the carpet.

  ‘Tell me, did you find the horses hidden somewhere near the coast?’

  ‘I apologize, I should have said when I came in. Things were as exactly as you predicted. I came on ahead but no doubt the animals are back in their stables now. Someone will have to ride in to town later as we’re going to need more outside staff.’

  ‘Please, won’t you sit down and explain exactly what happened? I’ve been beside myself with curiosity these past two hours.’

  When Ralph had finished his story she realized he’d missed what could be a vital clue. ‘The old man at the farm, he didn’t seem surprised to see you?’

  ‘No, that’s true, he didn’t. He was expecting someone to come back and reclaim the horses.’

  She nodded encouragingly, waiting for him to reach the same conclusion. For a moment he looked blank then his mouth curled in a heart stopping smile. ‘You’re there before me, once again. The man was expecting someone like me to arrive, so was not surprised when I hammered on his door. This tells us that whoever’s behind this must be a member of the gentry.’

  ‘That indeed, narrows list of suspects down. There can be only several thousand people to deal with, not several million.’

  ‘I can think of no reason why I anyone should wish to lure me here under false pretenses.’

  ‘However, you were. But we have not proved that my letter was false. In fact, I’m almost certain that it had the correct signature and the wording was quite different. Exactly when did you receive yours?’

  ‘The day before I arrived; Aunt Agatha said the matter was of extreme urgency.’

  ‘My invitation was of long standing, it was arranged weeks ago, is it possible that whoever sent for you didn’t know I was expected too?’

  ‘This gets more complicated by the minute.’

  She had been thinking about this had come to the same conclusion from whichever direction she approached the problem. ‘I think I might have an explanation, it’s a trifle far-fetched, but then this whole scenario is bordering on the ridiculous. Do you wish to hear it?’

  He was all attention, leaning forward, his expression expectant.

  ‘It has to be to do with money, it always is,’ she paused, ‘or love, of course; sometimes it’s to do with love.’ She glanced up, eyes twinkling, ‘I rather think an elopement can be ruled out in this case. I think this must be to do with your recent inheritance. Could there be someone else who had expectations? A man who wants the title and your fortune enough to kill you for it?’

  As soon as she said the words out loud she felt as if a stone lodged in her stomach. Her eyes widened and the colour drained from her face. ‘I’m right, aren’t I? Someone has brought you here to kill you?’ She looked fearfully around the room as if expecting the murderer to appear from behind the curtain hangings. ‘And as I’m here, they will have to kill me too; they will not wish to leave a witness.’

  Her startling announcement hung in the air between them, then Ralph was on his feet and at her side and she felt his arms around her, warm and comforting, and her fear began to subside.

  ‘Kill us? What a nonsensical idea. You’ve been reading far too many Gothic novels, sweetheart, and they’re making you fanciful. There’ll be a far simpler explanation, it has nothing to do with murder or money.’

  *

  As Ralph gathered the shaking girl in his arms and spoke his words of comfort he was lying to her. She was correct. It had to be his inheritance. Both of them stood to gain on Aunt Agatha’s demise, and now he also held a title and a massive fortune of his own.

  He’d come to her side with the intention of offering reassurance; she was ten years his junior and seemed not much more than a green girl. But his body was telling him differently. He felt her warmth, the softness of her breasts pressing against his shirt front and the sweet scent of her hair caused his body to respond accordingly.

  This wouldn’t do. He was her guardian, he would not take advantage; it would be unpardonable. Releasing her he stepped away, turning his back to hide his embarrassment. He wandered across to gaze morosely out of the window waiting for his arousal to subside.

  There were enough complications at the moment without adding a growing attraction to his beautiful cousin. He straightened, his eyes narrowed and his face relaxed. Was it such an outlandish idea? Why not her? He was turned thirty, held an ancient title – what would make more sense than to marry his second cousin and keep the money in one place? This was the ideal opportunity to stake his claim. They were virtually unchaperoned, and he would have every opportunity to seduce her and make it impossible for her to say no to matrimony.

  *

  Hester watched him puzzled by his sudden departure from her side. Had she done something to offend him? One moment she had been warm and safe, next rudely put aside and he was standing on the far side of the room staring out across the snow. She didn’t know a great deal about men, didn’t go often to public events, but knew enough to be aware of a slight and didn’t enjoy the experience at all. A growing anger at her shabby treatment replaced her fear and she stood up. Should she berate him for his rudeness?

  She was standing indecisively, when he swung back to face her, looking at her in a most disconcerting way. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time. She felt his glance linger on her face then travel swiftly down across her heaving bosom to her toes. She responded by flushing pink all over. Why was he staring at her in this way and making her feel uncomfortable? She nodded regally and turning her back on him, departed in dignified silence. The last thing she wanted was for him to take an interest in her.

  She shivered in the icy corridor, pulling her wrap close, and decided to go in search of Birdie. She remembered the ancient housekeeper had a small room of her own adjacent to the butler’s pantry. The woman had used both rooms as her domain as there was no butler at Neddingfield.

  The large house was divided into sections. The main part was used by Aunt Agatha, but the smaller wing, which made it into an L-shape, housed the various domestic offices. As well as the servants’ hall; on the first floor were the butler and housekeeper’s rooms. These could be accessed only by taking the back stairs.

  The stairs were even colder, the walls not lit by flickering sconces, you had to hold your own candlestick in order to see your way. Thankfully emerging in the correct place, Hester was pleased to see there was a coal fire burning in the grate and the area was a lot warmer than the main part of the house. The door to the housekeeper’s parlour was standing open and her friend was seated at a table writing meticulously in a large ledger. She hesitated at the door – might it be polite to knock? Birdie looked up, her plain face softened by a smile of welcome.

  ‘My dear, whatever are you doing up here? You had only to ring and someone would have fetched me down to see you.’

  ‘I’ve no intention of allowing you to run after me. I told you, apart from a slight headache, I’m fully recovered and the exercise has done me good. I’
m sure if I remained sedentary for long, with my prodigious appetite I would get too fat to move, even if I wanted to.’

  Birdie laughed, as she was meant to. ‘Come in, you’re very welcome. Actually, it’s far warmer in our side the house than it is on yours. I’ve just had a tray of tea brought and Cook included some fruit buns. I’ve finished here; I was just entering what we’ve used from the pantry today - it’s the way things are done. I’m now free to join you by the fire.’

  ‘Do you know I’ve never been up here before. I had no idea it was so comfortable and well appointed. I doubt many houses have such rooms for their staff. I can see now why you are so eager to become housekeeper; here you’re warm and don’t have to negotiate the icy corridors every time you want to move from room to room.’

  ‘Very true, my dear. Now tell me what you’ve been doing this morning. One of the girls, Mary, told me the horses have been found and are now safe in the stables. That’s good news but confirms your theory that Miss Culley and her staff have taken a sea voyage. Was she in the habit of taking all her staff with her when she travelled?’

  Hester held her tea, served in dainty porcelain and decorated in pink edged with gilt. She was sure this was not the tea service normally used up here, whatever Birdie believed the rest of the staff knew she wasn’t really one of them.

  ‘It’s something I never asked. Why should I? Perhaps Polly might know as she was walking out with a young man who worked here. He could have mentioned he was going to travel with my aunt ‘

  They sipped their tea companionably. Hester devoured two of the freshly cooked buns liberally spread with butter. ‘The more I think about this, the odder it seems. They left the chickens and the two house cows but no-one to feed them. Surely if they’d planned to go away they would have made arrangements for the livestock? I must discuss it with Waverley.’