The Duke's Dilemma

by Fenella J Miller

  ‘Are you now assisting his grace?’

  Hester detected a smug satisfaction in her friend’s voice. Her suspicions were correct. ‘On the matter of the duke, I don’t appreciate being thrown at his head. We’re both quite capable of finding a partner if that’s what we desire. Are you hoping our proximity will cause us to become compromised?’

  The usual snort accompanied this comment. ‘You could do far worse, my dear. You must

  own he’s not an antidote. A trifle tall, I admit, but apart from that he’s everything he should be. He has no need of buckram wadding to improve the width of his shoulders or the shape of his calves. He’s been a professional soldier all his life, I believe. I can’t think of anyone better to take care of you.’

  It was Hester’s turn to snort. ‘Birdie, he’s definitely a man used to giving commands to that I will agree. I should not like to be tied to such a one; imagine being ordered, barked and shouted at all day. It wouldn’t suit me. Admittedly having a professional soldier around at the moment is more than fortunate but when this mystery is satisfactorily solved I shall be quite happy to say farewell and send him on his way.’

  She stood up, shaking the crumbs from her lap. ‘I shan’t require any luncheon after eating two buns, but if it’s soup again I shan’t be able to resist; yesterday it was delicious.’

  She paused as an unpleasant thought occurred to her. ‘Birdie, this Cook is still preparing food for all the staff, is she not? The outside men as well? I couldn’t bear to think of them going without in weather like this.’

  Birdie nodded. ‘But of course she is, my dear. Lord Colebrook insists on it. He has also given permission to light fires in their rooms above the stables and to take any extra furniture and bedding that they might require to make their quarters snug and warm. He’s a good man, my dear, and looks after his own. He’s not like other aristocrats, he wasn’t born into wealth and has only inherited recently.’

  Hester was finding this constant praise of her cousin, tiresome. ‘I must see how Polly’s progressing with the alterations. What time is luncheon, at mid-day as usual?’

  ‘Yes, my dear, but his grace has asked that dinner be served at six, instead of five; it seems he prefers not to keep country hours.’

  *

  Ralph waited until he was alone before pacing the study, cursing his clumsiness. He mustn’t rush matters, Hester, although turned twenty one, had not gone about in society. His aunt had told him she lived quietly with her companion, Miss Bird, at Draycot Manor, managing her own estate and finances admirably. For all that even his untutored eye could see she dressed to advantage. The gold velvet gown she had been wearing, in spite of its long sleeves and high neck, emphasized her delectable breasts and added dignity to her slender frame. He couldn’t wait to remove the pins and watch her hair tumble over her shoulders the way it had when they first met.

  He could see the sky was clear, no sign of heavy snow clouds, though the temperature was well below freezing and the snow showed no sign of thawing. Robin had told him there was enough fodder and bedding stored to last the winter and the barns were full of sweet smelling hay, barley straw, and sacks of oats. The cellars beneath the kitchen were crammed full of carrots, potatoes, onions, preserves and jars of fruit. There were sides of ham, bacon, salt beef, and other delicacies. With the chickens, the house cows and what could be shot in the woods, no one would go hungry however long they were obliged to stay here. Even the coal cellar was full.

  The house was stocked for winter: his aunt hadn’t intended to go away. What could have persuaded her to leave as she did? Hester could be correct; perhaps her arrival was an unfortunate coincidence.

  His mouth curved involuntarily as he pictured her bristling with indignation before stalking out. Whatever the reason, he was glad she was here as they might not have met otherwise, but having to keep both her and her companion safe was an added complication.

  He frowned. Too much time was being spent thinking about his cousin. It had to stop; there were more pressing things for him to do.

  What they required were more servants; the dozen women already employed formed no more than a skeleton staff in a house this size. Another dozen would not go amiss and there was ample room in the attics and sufficient food to feed any extra.

  Outside they needed at least two more grooms, two more gardeners and a couple of handymen. He would feel more sanguine if he had half a dozen men able to handle firearms as well. Although he had dismissed his cousin’s worries he believed things could get decidedly unpleasant before this matter ended.

  He walked to the wall and yanked the bell. Eventually there was a knock on the door and James appeared looking a little shamefaced.

  ‘Forgive me, your grace, when the bell rang I took this opportunity of coming myself. I would like to speak to you.’

  ‘Excellent, it was you I wished to see. I want you to try and ride to town; the snow’s deep but there’s a route through the wood which is more sheltered. You can cut through and approach Little Neddingfield from the rear. It’s the way those intruders must have entered and left the park. Go to the inn and recruit more staff. I have my requirements written.’ He handed over the note. ‘With the price of corn so high even basic foodstuffs must be out of reach for the unemployed farm labourers of the neighbourhood so I hope they will be happy to come. Do you think you can you make the journey safely?’

  ‘I do, your grace. My horse is well rested and if I toss a blanket over its rump, I’m sure we can get there and back. However, I’m not sure that many folk, however needy, will want to trudge four miles through the snow in order to get here. It’s a pity it’s so thick or I could take a wagon with me and bring them back on that.’

  Ralph frowned, this was one aspect of the situation that bothered him. Many of the people who volunteered to work would be poorly clad and not have weatherproof footwear. He couldn’t expect them to walk in the snow, however eager he was to employ them.

  ‘I suggest you go anyway. Book yourself a room at the inn; it will probably take you a day or two to round up the number of people I want and by then the weather might have improved and they can walk… No, on second thoughts, hire a diligence and bring them out on that. I don’t want anything unpleasant to happen on this journey; I don’t know what we’re dealing with here.’

  James nodded. ‘I’ll pack my saddlebags, and set off right away, your grace. With luck, if I don’t fall into any drifts, I’ll be there before dark. I won’t be able to send word to you but expect me back, snow or no snow, with the required staff within two days.’

  The young man departed and Ralph realized they had not discussed the reason that had brought James to him in the first place. He pulled out a chair at the desk and rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his head, there were things that needed to be thought about and here was as good a place as any.

  There were far too many unexplained events and if he was of a fanciful turn of mind he would begin to think supernatural forces were involved. There was only one way to sift the facts from fantasy: he would write it down. He selected a quill, uncorked the ink and began.

  Questions to be answered:

  1. The gates were closed and no one to have done it

  2. Occupants of Neddingfield Hall vanish without trace.

  3. Mysterious camp with no footprints visible.

  4. Man vanishes without trace in the wood.

  Answers to questions:

  1. They could have been closed by whoever took the Neddingfield occupants away. Not

  ghosts.

  2. Horses found, evidence of ex-soldiers. Not ghosts.

  3. Camp, the footprints could have been removed, but not clear how. Ghosts?

  4. Vanished man, no explanation. Ghosts?

  He perused his paper carefully, writing it down hadn’t helped him at all. There must be a rational explanation so why hadn’t he found it? There were no ghosts of Neddingfield Hall; whatever was happening here was almost certainly orchestrated by a human ha
nd. He was damned if he was going to start believing in the supernatural.

  Chapter Nine

  Until the snow melted Ralph couldn’t post the letter to his lawyers in London asking them if they knew who his heir was and the militia wouldn’t get through. Nothing more could be done to further his investigations. He felt frustrated; he was a man of action and wanted to get on with things, not sit around waiting for the weather to improve.

  The sound of shouts and laughing outside attracted his attention. His cousin was up to her knees in snow so muffled by garments he scarcely recognized her. She was accompanied by two gardeners holding shovels and was obviously intending to build a snowman. Good grief! The girl had taken leave of her senses. He watched, smiling at her inadequate attempts to construct the torso. She needed an expert to help her.

  He ran up to his chambers, found his heavy riding coat and gloves, then tying a scarf around his neck he bounded downstairs and went to join the fun. It was years since he had thought of the snow as anything but an inconvenience. By the time four figures were completed he believed his relationship with his cousin had improved somewhat and she no longer considered him an irascible ogre.

  The physical activity had allowed him to expand his pent-up energy and he returned to the study in a better frame of mind. This evening they were to dine together for the first time and Hester had told him she was going to dress. He smiled; he hadn’t worn the evening rig hanging in his closet and it would make a refreshing change not to appear in his scarlet regimentals.

  *

  Hester examined her new gown from all angles, craning her neck to see how it fell without its train.

  ‘I can’t believe it’s the same garment, Polly. You’ve worked wonders. The ruffles added around the hem make it the first stare of fashion. I wish I had thought to bring my jewellery with me as the neck line is too revealing.’ She glanced nervously at the expanse of creamy bosom now exposed.

  ‘No, Miss Frobisher, it looks lovely. With your hair dressed, and ringlets on either side of your face, you look just like the picture in the book. I’m sure his grace will appreciate the effort you’ve taken.’

  Hester’s mouth pursed. ‘I dress to please myself, Polly, not anyone else.’ The reprimand was unfair and she tried to make amends. ‘I do thank you. But it’s one thing to look like a sophisticate, but quite another to maintain the pretense all evening.’ She nodded to her young abigail. ‘I shall leave the rest of my wardrobe in your capable hands. If Meg helps I believe the contents of my closet can be made over. It might be more difficult with the gowns that don’t have a high waist line, but the skirts of those are so full there should be enough to make a fresh gown. Do you have enough thread and trimmings?’

  The girl nodded. ‘Yes, thank you, miss. The box you found for me has everything I want. I could sew you a complete wardrobe without needing more.’

  After a final check that the Hester enveloped herself in a warm cashmere shawl knowing she would need it to negotiate the icy passageways. The tall clock that stood in pride of place in the grand hall struck six as she reached the top of the staircase. Carefully lifting the hem of her silk gown she ran lightly down, not wishing to be tardy tonight.

  The drawing-room door was open, the room ablaze with candlelight; the chandelier in the centre sparkling like the snow outside. She paused, unconsciously framing herself in the doorway, unaware of the impact she was making. Cousin Ralph was waiting, his back to the fire, for her arrival.

  She gazed down the length of the room. Her throat closed. He was in black; apart from his shirt front, the silver of his waistcoat and the frothy whiteness of his intricately tied cravat, held in place by a single diamond pin. He looked magnificent, looked every inch an aristocrat, whatever his words the contrary, he was born to rule.

  She took a few hesitant steps then dropped in a low curtsy. Gracefully she straightened and watched him bow deeply in return. No words were spoken but the silence said more than banalities could ever do.

  Ralph found his voice first and moved smoothly towards her, his hand extended. ‘Good evening, Cousin Hester. Permit me to say that you look enchanting tonight, my dear.’

  ‘And you look ... you look overwhelming. Evening dress suits you, but it does emphasize your height in an alarming way.’ A strange tingle travelled up her fingers as he took her hand and threaded it through his arm.

  ‘I believe dinner is served. Shall we go through?’

  He led her with as much formality as if progressing at the grandest state occasion halfway down the length of the drawing-room, through the double doors that led to the dining room and across to the huge table that dominated the centre of the room.

  Hester was relieved to see Birdie had not placed them at either end of the table so they would have been obliged to shout to each other in order to converse. The two places were side by side, near the sideboard upon which the various courses were waiting. A trio of nervous parlour-maids were ready to serve.

  ‘Allow me to seat you, my dear.’ He pulled out a chair and stood while she stepped round, then pushed it in as if he’d been acting as a footman all his life. With a flourish he removed her intricately folded napkin and shook it out, placing it across her lap. She smiled enjoying his performance.

  He seated himself with less fuss and indicated they were ready to be served. He poured her a glass of claret. Hester wasn’t used to drinking alcohol; in fact, apart from the occasional glass of champagne at weddings and at Christmas, she avoided it. She disliked the way it made her head spin and her senses became confused. She also disliked the way it changed people, making them loud, red-faced and embarrassingly uninhibited.

  *

  Ralph watched her sip her drink with distaste and snapped his fingers to have the glass removed and replaced by lemonade. He made sure to be at his most charming, telling her amusing anecdotes about his time on the Peninsula and the frolics of his fellow officers. As the meal progressed it became more obvious that all animosity between them was over.

  ‘My dear, I’ve been doing all the talking. It’s your turn to tell me about yourself, how you come to be of age but still unmarried.’ He saw her smile slip and realized this wasn’t a subject she wished to discuss with him.

  ‘I’m happy to regale you with stories of my youth, but that is all. You have no right to question me on such a personal matter.’

  Dammit! He’d made a mull of it. It was too long since he’d been obliged to do the pretty with an innocent. How could he restore himself in her eyes without looking like a nincompoop?

  ‘I beg your pardon, Hester, you’re quite right to castigate me. The subject is closed. Now, I am all agog to hear what you got up to at Drayton Manor.’

  When the final remove was taken from the table he was ready, rising smoothly to be at her side to assist her from her chair. As he stood behind her looking over her shoulder, he felt the all-too-familiar tightness. She was so beautiful and dressed as she was in this gold silk evening gown, she was damn near irresistible.

  If he made his advance too soon he would scare her, but it was becoming almost impossible to behave as a gentleman with so much temptation at his fingertips. Carefully avoiding any contact with her bare shoulders he pulled her chair back, allowing her to slip sideways away from his grasp. She moved to the far end of the room, looking at him warily. Did she suspect what he had in mind? He banked down the fire in his eyes before speaking.

  ‘Shall we go through into the drawing-room, my dear? I have no wish to sit on my own imbibing port when I can be talking to the most beautiful woman in England.’

  He saw a faint pink colour her cheeks at his fulsome compliment and for a moment was ashamed. She was no match for him, he was experienced in the ways of the world and knew exactly how to further his suit.

  *

  Why was he looking at her as though he wished to devour her? She’d enjoyed sharing dinner with him, listening to his stories, and apart from his intrusive questions about her single state the evening had g
one splendidly. Having spent all morning building snowmen with him she had almost revised her opinion and was coming to almost like him.

  Would it be wise to spend any further time in his company? She had observed him refill his glass and knew from watching the brothers and husbands of her friends that men did things they might later regret when in their cups.

  She nodded coolly; she didn’t want to give him any encouragement. ‘Your grace, I have enjoyed this evening, but you will forgive me I’m sure, if I retire to my chambers. It’s been a long day, and as you know I spent the greater part of the morning in physical activity outside and I’m feeling decidedly fatigued.’

  His mouth tightened so played her trump card. ‘I believe I’m not quite as well as I thought. After all, Dr Ratcliff did say I should remain in my room for another day after…’ She paused to give her next remark more impact. ‘After my unfortunate accident a few days ago.’

  He frowned. ‘Of course. Shall I ring for someone to escort you to your chambers?’

  Before he could reach the bell she raised her hand to halt him. ‘There’s no need, I feel tired and my head aches a little but I’m quite capable of seeing myself upstairs.’

  Believing she was safe at least for tonight, she gathered her skirts and prepared to leave. Then somehow he was close behind her, his hot breath brushing the top of her head.

  ‘I believe you will need your wrap to negotiate the corridors. Allow me to place it onyour shoulders.’

  She felt the whisper of the fine material as it dropped across her neck and then his hands brushed her cheeks as he delicately folded it around her. She couldn’t move. His proximity was making her head spin. He was so overwhelmingly masculine.

  Eventually she found her voice and even to her it sounded shaky and unnatural. ‘Thank you, sir, that’s most kind.’ She attempted to step forward but for some reason her feet wouldn’t stir, she was rooted, trapped by something she didn’t understand.