The Duke's Dilemma

by Fenella J Miller

  ‘I’m that sorry, miss, I didn’t know you was going to stop, I do beg your pardon, I didn’t mean to ... ‘

  ‘It’s not your fault, Meg. Kindly give me your arm and assist me up.’ She scarcely managed to form the words, to sound normal, and not alarm the girl further. She prayed whatever had happened to the women, God grant the men, and especially Ralph, were still somewhere on the premises.

  *

  Ralph paused in the grand hall. He wanted to go outside and hit someone, he’d rarely been so angry. What was the matter with the chit? Couldn’t she see he was offering her everything? He was a duke, wealthy, and in good health. Why had she turned him down so comprehensively?

  He had to get out, that the walls were closing in on him. He took the stairs three at a time and charged into his apartment. Although Robin was officially his valet, since this nonsense had started he had reverted to being his second-in-command and was fully occupied elsewhere.

  Miss Bird had arranged for a girl to take care of his clothes, rooms and personal needs. He had intended to shout for her, but he’d not yet discovered her name. For some reason she always scuttled about like a terrified mouse on his appearance.

  His chambers were empty. The door to the bed chamber was open and both fires almost burnt out. He nodded, presumably she’d run down to fetch more fuel. Then he noticed the coal bucket and the log basket were half full. He frowned. Where was the wretched girl?

  He wasn’t going to wait around. He was too impatient. He found his heavy coat, beaver hat, and gloves. Ramming his arms in he buttoned it up quickly. Then with his hat and gloves in one hand, he headed out. As he passed the dwindling fires he paused. It wouldn’t do any good to let them go out, the girl would have to rake out the ashes and start again and his rooms would become cold. He threw his hat and gloves on to a side table and grabbing the coal bucket, hurled the contents on to the fires. He then added several logs to each. Satisfied that both would burn for several hours without attention, he snatched back his belongings and ran downstairs.

  He decided to leave by the front door. Slamming back the heavy bolts would allow him to spend some of his pent-up fury. He would like to go back into the study shake some sense into Hester. His mouth twitched. No, what he wanted to do was kiss her senseless, bury his face in her shining hair, make love to her until she could refuse him nothing.

  The last bolt slid back and turning the handle, he pulled the door open, expecting to be deluged with an icy drift that had built up against the door during the blizzard. But one of the men had cleared the front steps and the way down to the turning circle was free of snow. He glanced up at the sky; the snow had stopped, the clouds were moving away. The sun would be out soon.

  He walked round the house pausing to admire the group of snowmen they’d built. He had believed they’d reached an understanding, that she returned his regard, how could he have got matters so wrong?

  The snow had blown across the gravel drive and piled up against the trees that edged it. He would walk to the gates and back, get some much-needed fresh air and exercise and not have to struggle through snow up to his knees in order to do so. He would also investigate the matter of the floating lights Hester had mentioned. It had to be smugglers and no doubt he’d see evidence of ponies or donkeys on the path when he looked.

  He’d walked almost a mile when he spotted a break in the snowdrifts; there was a gap in the trees and the snow had funnelled through. This was the place he needed. He stopped, swearing volubly. That girl had addled his brains; any evidence of free traders would have been obliterated by the morning’s blizzard so there was little point in him going to look.

  He turned and begun to stride steadily towards the hall. The sun came out as he’d predicted bathing the ancient building in yellow light, making its dozens of windows sparkle; it looked attractive and not at all like a place where people disappeared mysteriously.

  Not ready to go back inside, he walked round to the stables; he would check how the sick horse was doing. Hester’s man Tom had worked wonders; this was a valuable beast and it looked as though, against all odds, it might recover.

  The cobbled yard was strangely quiet and he couldn’t hear the women hanging about in the kitchen. Surely they should be preparing the midday meal of soup and pasties by now? The wooden doors of the stable block were shut tight as one would expect. He pulled one open and stepped inside. Twenty horses munched contentedly in their stalls; the place warm and redolent of dung, hay and horseflesh.

  At the far end were two men completing their duties clearing the last of the stalls. They saw him watching and touched their caps politely. He couldn’t see Robin, Tom or any of the other men. They had to be about somewhere, perhaps these two would know.

  He strolled the length of the building, pausing occasionally to pull a silky ear or stoke a velvety nose; he reached the far end where the men, one wielding the shovel the other pushing the wheelbarrow, were waiting.

  ‘Where are my men? In fact, where is everyone else?’

  The taller of the two men, Ralph recognized him was the one who’d volunteered to accompany him earlier. ‘I don’t rightly know, yer grace. We’ve been busy here. I reckon they could be in the tack room. I’ve not seen them for an hour or more.’

  Ralph nodded his thanks and headed back to the centre of the building, turned down through the narrow passage that led to the half a dozen storage rooms. He could hear the sound of raised voices. Pushing open the door he found Tom and Robin arguing and both turned guiltily at his entrance. Robin, who had been speaking, faltered to a halt.

  ‘What’s going on here?’

  The men exchanged glances but it wasn’t Robin who replied, but Tom Clark.

  ‘It’s like this, your grace, they’ve gone. All the women and all but two of the men. They collected their belongings and left as soon as the snow stopped.’

  Ralph stared from one to the other. ‘For God’s sake, why? They’ve got a soft billet here, good food, comfortable quarters and generous remuneration. What could have possessed them to walk out in weather like this?’

  Again it was Tom answered. ‘Ghosts, sir. First Miss Culley and the rest disappear, then the gates were barred with no-one here to do it. Then, the two men who tried to capture Polly – remember one of them vanished into thin air. I didn’t think much about it at the time, but I did wonder where he’d gone.’

  Ralph was beginning to understand. ‘Are you telling me that that they’ve left because they believe Neddingfield Hall is possessed by evil spirits or some such thing?’

  ‘I am, your grace. Last night several of the men saw lights floating in the woods, winking on and off, and heard ghostly moaning and clanking. James disappearing without trace, that was too much. They decided they’d rather be home and hungry, then here with spirits and the like.’

  Ralph looked at Robin. ‘And you? How do you feel about all this? I don’t hear you denying the existence of the supernatural.’

  His man flushed and for the first time since he’d known him Robin failed to meet his eyes. ‘Generally, I don’t believe in this sort of thing, your grace. But now, I’m not so sure.’

  Chapter Twelve

  Ralph turned his back in disgust, how could this most reliable be having doubts at such a crucial time? Ghosts had nothing to do with what was happening here, humankind must be behind it.

  ‘Good God! Don’t be a fool, Robin. Don’t let what’s happening unnerve you; I need you strong, beside me.’

  He heard shuffling feet and then received a light tap on his arm. He glanced over his shoulder to find Clark standing there not Robin, he had left the room.

  ‘You can’t blame him, your grace. What’s been going on up here isn’t natural and he was with you when you went to look for young James; he’s told us how there was no evidence anywhere of other horses or anyone else who could have spirited him away.’

  ‘Then why are you here, Tom Clark? Do you not support the theory that we’re being haunted?’


  ‘Whatever I believe’s no matter, your grace. I’d lay my life down for Miss Frobisher any day, and ghosts, witches - whatever it might be - I’m staying put until the ... until the matter’s resolved.’

  ‘Good man. Will Robin leave?’

  Tom laughed. ‘Leave? Not likely! He’ll not leave. He’s mighty afraid of what’s going on, but he’ll stay to the end like me. Your old coachman, Fred, went with the others, but to try and persuade them to return. He’ll be back and stay put with us.’

  ‘I doubt the last two men from town will feel the same way.’ Had Robin gone to try and persuade them to stay?

  ‘They must move into the house, we have to remain together. I shall close down the main part of the Hall and everyone must use the servants’ quarters.’

  With only a handful of staff it would be impossible to keep the Hall warm anyway. The matter decided, he went to look for Robin and the two remaining men; he could hear them talking amongst the stalls. To his surprise both the men greeted him with a grin.

  ‘Take more than a few spooks to send us packing, yer grace. We’ll stay; between us we can take care of these nags for you. We’ll not need to move into the ’ouse; we’ll sleep down ‘ere with the ’orses.’

  ‘I’ll double your wages, of course. I insist you move into the house, all of you. I want to know where everybody is at all times.’

  The two men exchanged looks and nodded. ‘We’ll be getting our belongings and come across right away. The fire will ’ave to be doused. We’ll bring Fred’s things as well, shall we, your grace? This lot are done, if the snow clears we can turn the farm ’orses out.’

  *

  Now that Meg, Polly, Birdie and herself were safely established in the kitchen, Hester felt more sanguine. There was no sound from the yard but the stables were too far away to be able to hear anything from here. Some of the men remained and she was certain Ralph would not have deserted her. He was a soldier, he’d never leave his post.

  ‘I see that Cook has prepared the vegetables for the soup so all we need to do is put on the pot and cook it. Even I can manage that. Meg, could you see how much bread we have in the pantry?’

  Polly went with her, the two having decided that as long as they were staying they wouldn’t the each other’s side. Hester couldn’t blame them – she was determined to stay close to Birdie.

  Her cheeks coloured as she thought there was someone who would be only too happy to hold her. She suppressed a smile; being held by Ralph would be more dangerous than remaining on her own. What had recently passed between must be put to one side, she was prepared to do so and prayed he would have forgotten his anger at her rebuff.

  The soup was bubbling on the range, fresh pasties warm from the oven when she heard the unmistakable sound of the back door opening. All four women froze. Then she relaxed.

  ‘It’s Lord Colebrook and some others coming in. Thank God, we’re not entirely alone.’

  Ralph appeared in the door, behind him were Tom, Robin, his coachman, and two stable hands carrying their bundles. His smile made her knees weaken.

  ‘I see you know what’s happened, sweetheart. Miss Bird, can you find accommodation for the outside men? Give them the rooms the women vacated.’

  My goodness! Not only had he forgiven her he was larding his remarks with endearments and she wasn’t the only one to notice this.

  Birdie, who had been kneading the next batch of bread, raised her eyebrows before wiping her hands on her apron. ‘Of course, your grace. Miss Frobisher has already suggested we move in together.’

  Hester watched her friend hurry away and heard her talking to the men outside; the sound of heavy boots on the backstairs echoing round the kitchen as they were taken up to their new quarters. She gestured to Ralph that they walk to the end of the kitchen, away from the others standing around the range warming themselves.

  ‘We can’t manage this house with only five men and two girls. I think we should all eat in here as well as sleeping in the servants’ wing.’

  He nodded. ‘My thoughts exactly. At least this way we can keep warm.’ Raising his hand he tenderly brushed away the lock of hair that had escaped from its place but he said nothing; he didn’t need to, his expression said it all.

  After lunch they began the process of moving belongings. The outside men took off their boots and joined in, happy to carry and fetch as required. By the time dark fell everything had been arranged to Hester’s satisfaction.

  ‘I don’t know what we shall eat this evening, Birdie; you know I’m not skilled in the culinary arts.’

  Her friend smiled. ‘I have thought of that, my dear, I shall take over the role of cook. My repertoire is limited, but I can make bread, pastry, soup, and roast meat reasonably well. Between us I’m sure we shall not starve.’

  ‘It will be strange eating with the staff, and I’m sure they will find it as uncomfortable as I shall.’ Hester continued to polish the silver cutlery as she spoke, laying it out on the scrubbed oak table neatly.

  ‘Good heavens! My dear girl, we shall not eat together, and the staff shall certainly not use the best cutlery.’

  ‘Then how shall we arrange it?’

  ‘Lord Colebrook and yourself shall dine first; I intend to spread a cloth on this table and bring in the silver candlesticks from the dining room. When you’ve finished you retire to the new sitting room upstairs and then the rest of us can eat.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s right that you have to eat with the servants- you’re my friend.’ Hester saw Birdie was about to protest and forestalled her. ‘It’s alright, I understand. The staff need you to keep them cheerful.’ She stared across to the window. ‘It gets dark so early. I’ll not feel safe until all the shutters are closed, the hangings pulled and the doors locked and bolted. Once everybody is inside perhaps I can relax.’

  ‘The men are out settling the horses and milking the cows. The duke told us they would be back before it was fully dark. You must try not to worry, my dear, or you will come down with one of your megrims.’

  ‘At least we don’t have to dress for dinner anymore. We should look ridiculous in our silk finery sitting at the kitchen table.’

  ‘I shall make it look more formal, my dear, never fret.’

  The noise of the men returning interrupted their conversation. Hester removed herself upstairs and left the kitchen to Ralph and the other men. She wasn’t sure how she would react to spending so much time alone with a man, who, in spite of her initial reservations, she was now beginning to find irresistible.

  *

  It was a strange experience sitting opposite Ralph in the kitchen, sparkling crystal and the best silver laid on the white cloth as though they were eating in the grand dining-room, with the heavy warmth of her dog’s head across her feet. Jet was now sleeping inside as everyone knew he was as good as any man if it came to a fight.

  Meg and Polly were serving dinner, Birdie had retired to the servants’ hall and was organizing the table for when the staff ate later on.

  ‘Ralph, do you think the horses will be safe out there?’ She was concerned about Thunder.

  ‘I don’t see why not, we know these people have their own nags, although God knows where they are, why should they want to take ours? Nobody’s going anywhere at the moment, there’s too much snow.’

  ‘That’s another thing; it puzzles me all this has happened as though planned. How could anyone have known we would be snowed in?’ She saw his expression change and a wariness in his eyes, an uncertainty she hadn’t seen before. She swallowed her mouthful and it stuck somewhere in her chest. She knew why he looked that way. No one could possibly have known it was going to snow unless they were not … not of this world.

  She dropped her cutlery on the plate. Polly and Meg were standing by the scullery door, out of earshot, but in the quiet of the kitchen the dropped silverware on porcelain was unmistakable.

  Hester lost her appetite. She couldn’t force another morsel down however tasty. She mustn’t let
her fear show; her duty was to maintain a brave face; somehow she forced her head up and bit her lips to stop them trembling.

  ‘I’m feeling unwell, your grace. I fear I might have eaten something that disagrees with me. Pray excuse me.’ Hester pushed back her chair and, clasping a napkin to her mouth, hurried out but forgot to pick up a candlestick to light her way.

  The corridor was warmer than before; Ralph had ordered the fires at either end be set and the wall sconces flickered brightly. There was the murmur of voices further down – everyone was safe inside. She was halfway across the corridor when an arm encircled her waist.

  ‘Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You’ve eaten nothing the rest of us haven’t had, what has upset you?’

  Hester felt her resistance draining away. Why should she fight this attraction? There was evil stalking them, she could feel it gathering around her and they might both be spirited away by tomorrow. She didn’t want to go to meet her Maker still unsure what being a woman really meant.

  She stepped closer, into the warmth of his embrace, resting her cheek against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent. He needed no further encouragement and his arms closed tight about her and for the first time since she’d arrived at Neddingfield Hall she felt secure. They stood entwined for a moment and then common sense reasserted itself and she pushed gently at his chest and was released immediately.

  She left one hand there as she looked up. ‘We need to talk, Ralph, but here is not the place, we might be living in close proximity with our staff but some things are still best kept private, don’t you agree?’

  His eyes burned into hers and his heart was thundering beneath her spread fingers. ‘Wait here, sweetheart, we need a candle. We’ll break our necks if we try to ascend the stairs without one.’

  He returned and with his arm around her shoulders guided her up, holding a single candle aloft to light the way. She hardly registered the journey, her head was full of images of forbidden pleasures. Her mama had told her what took place between a man and woman in the marriage bed, had told her this was a duty she would have to endure. Hester had always thought this side of matrimony would not be to her liking.