The Hazardous Gamble of the Alluring Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Hamilton, Hanna

  Aaron rose with alacrity. “I will be glad to. Dahlia, sister dear, would you like my arm to help you up the stairs?”

  Dahlia smiled at him sweetly. “I would be most appreciative of the support, dear brother. I fear I shall swoon before reaching the top step.”

  Aaron extended his left arm, and she placed her right hand upon it. She leaned lightly on his support until they were in the upper corridor and out of sight, then she dropped her hand. “Oh, thank you, Aaron. I could not bear the gaze of that awful man another minute.”

  Aaron looked puzzled. “What awful man? Goldstone? He is a pretentious toad eater, but beyond that I do not know anything untoward about him.”

  “Nor do I, but he makes me feel uncomfortable, all the same. The way he stares at me, I feel as if I should go get my cloak and bundle myself out of sight.”

  “Truly, Dahlia?”

  “Truly, Aaron. If it is possible, please do not ever leave me alone with him.”

  Aaron was thoughtfully silent for a moment. Then he said, “Well, at least it was not the sight of cook’s treacle tart that turned you missish. Shall I see if I can sneak you up a slice?”

  “Aaron, you beast! You know I hate the stuff. No, instead, go back and listen to what they say when I am not there. I do not like it that he is seated so near to Father, nor the tenure of his questions. It is almost as if he felt he owned me.”

  “What is it you fear, Sister?”

  “I’m not really sure. But odd as it might seem, I feel as if I have fallen into an old ballad – one about a harp made of bone and strung with hair.”

  Aaron stared at her, his usual good humor stilled for the moment. “Very well, although I had hoped to use your exit as my own escape.”

  “Thank you, Aaron. It would relieve me greatly to know what is afoot. And now, I truly would like to get out of this ridiculous dress and into something sensible. Perhaps I will be able to persuade Suzanne to slip down to the kitchen and get some ginger cookies for me.”

  “Ask her to get some for me, too.” Aaron grinned. “I do not fancy treacle tart, either.”

  * * *

  Aaron turned and walked back down the stairs, entering the dining hall just in time to hear Harry Warwick say, “…I believe it would be a sound investment as well as being advantageously placed.”

  “And what would you ask as a security, Goldstone?” Cottleroy paused on consuming treacle tart and focused on the younger man.

  “Leave to address your daughter in courtship would be enough,” Goldstone said.

  Aaron held his breath, scarcely believing what he was hearing.

  Cottleroy waved his fork from side to side in a negative fashion. “Let us not talk business at the dinner table. Aaron, my son, did you get your sister settled into her rooms? And will you have some of this excellent treacle tart.”

  “My sister is well settled. Thank you for the recommendation, Father, but I believe I am replete.”

  “Then we are done here,” his father said. “Let us retire to the small study for brandy. I have a new shipment which I would like for you all to try.”

  It was clear that the Duke of Cottleroy favored the Earl of Goldstone, even though he knew that Dahlia did not enjoy the earl’s company. Aaron wondered what he should tell his sister.

  Chapter 4

  Roger awoke feeling dull and lethargic, just as he always did after being dosed with chamomile. He had to own, however, that he did feel better and was, perhaps, even a little hungry. He tugged on the bell pull to ring for Herbert, got out of bed and began to rummage for something to wear.

  “Here, now, Roger, let me do that. You will have all your things in a state if you go on so.”

  Roger laughed and sat down on the edge of his bed. “I am a right mess, I am. Herbert, how shall I go about gaining an heiress to marry? For I think you have hit on the quick way out of my troubles.”

  “Roger! I was but jesting!” Herbert looked a little shocked

  “I know it, but in truth I cannot think of another way to satisfy my creditors quickly, save to sell off some of my horses. There is that stallion that has never been quite satisfactory and a couple of the broodmares. That should clear up my current bills, but I have no idea how to go on from there. I will need to go up to London anyway to take care of some things, so I plan to open the townhouse and keep it open through the season. Who should I take with me?”

  Herbert frowned. “Take me, of course, and Peter. You will want a hostess to lend countenance should you want to entertain – who was that aunt who petitioned you for support? Clarity, Clarissa, Gertrude…”

  “Aunt Garrity. Her husband passed away recently. She is not up to the first water of the ton, but she will do. As a bachelor, I will not be expected to maintain much of a household, but she can look after the housemaids and keep us respectable. I will be lucky if she does not decide to read tracts at me all day long.”

  Herbert considered the matter. “In your situation, you have not a lot of choice. What kind of payment do you think she will want?”

  Roger shrugged. “I think she will do it for room and board, but that does seem a bit shabby. I will ask Jeremy to see to it. He will know what is best and how much of the nonsense the accounts will stand. Maybe he will have an idea or two that will help me to bring about and sail with a more fortunate wind.”

  Herbert nodded, glad that he wouldn’t have to mastermind the whole maneuver. “I will pack your gear, Roger.”

  * * *

  Jeremy Sharp did have some ideas and added some other thoughts as well. “An heiress is all very well and good, Your Grace, but you will need some means of bringing in your own income or you will be right back where you are in a year or two. I will give you the names of some people to see and a connection or two who might be able to help you.”

  Roger sighed. “I suppose you are right. It does seem like a lot of trouble just to obtain some money.”

  Jeremy tugged on one ear and considered the young Duke. “Getting money is often a great deal of trouble, Your Grace. But unless you wish to run out of funds and out of anything to sell besides, now is a good time to set about mending your fortunes while you still have a feather to fly with. I am glad that you have begun to think about it. I was beginning to wonder if I would have to invoke the responsibility clause in your father’s will and assign you an allowance.”

  Roger gaped at him. “There is such a thing?”

  Jeremy nodded. “There is, indeed, such a thing. It is in place to protect the people who rent and work on the estate. Your father was ever conscious of the natural rights of his vassals.”

  Roger considered the idea. “That doesn’t really sound very much like Father.”

  Jeremy hid a smile. “You are right. It was your mother. Lord Leonard was steady, and he had been trained to take on the estate. But she reminded your father that inheriting a fortune might lead even your older brother to behave a little foolishly.”

  And thus, it was that Roger packed up a skeleton crew of butler, housemaid, his Aunt Garrity, and one of the under cooks and left the head farmer to oversee the harvest, with Jeremy to look in on the estate now and then. The plan was for Aunt Garrity and Peter to fill in the rest of the household positions with the caretaking staff left in London, as well as some new hires from the local agency.

  Although most of the household rode in the coach, Roger chose to ride one of his best horses, pointing out that prosperity begets prosperity and that if he looked shabby, he would win no respect from anyone, let alone attract a beautiful young heiress.

  The trip was reasonably pleasant for late August, although with the true perversity of English weather, it rained most of the way. Herbert fussed about the chance that Roger might catch a cold, then insisted on riding with him.

  Just as they were entering London, the clouds parted briefly giving Roger a glimpse of heaven. On the green, near the cows, a slender young lady was playing ball with two other girls and a tall youth while a stern older woman looked
on. A stray sunbeam caught the young lady’s hair, which was tumbling out of its knot, turning it into strands of gold. Her grace, as she caught the ball and returned it, was that of a wild deer. Her movements were sure and quick, and when she laughed at having missed the ball, her voice was merry and pleasant.

  Roger drew rein and let his horse rest a moment while he watched the pleasant sight. “Herbert, do you suppose the young woman over there comes with a fortune?”

  “I am sure that I would not know, Your Grace. It would be a rare thing for an heiress to be strolling around with no more escort than we see.”

  “I suppose you are right, Herbert. It would be too much to ask that beauty and fortune should go together.”

  “So true, Your Grace.” Herbert had on his perfect servant face, but there was a faint crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

  “I suppose,” Roger went on, “that I shall be saddled with an old maid who has one wall eye and one cross eye, a mole with a hair on it, and a permanently-addled complexion. I shall be forced to look among my distant cousins for an heir or to foster a by-blow.”

  Herbert coughed and wiped at his face with his handkerchief.

  “Are you all right over there, Herbert?” Roger turned a look of mock concern toward his friend.

  “Quite, Your Grace, quite all right. Just a little road dust in my throat is all.”

  “I am relieved to hear that. I am counting on you to help me find a woman of reasonable acceptability among the ton. You must glean all the best gossip from below stairs and let me know who is most likely to be desperate enough to wed a Duke whose fortunes have become a little thin.”

  “And help I shall, Your Grace,” Herbert said heartily. “I shall keep my ears open and my eyes peeled. Surely there is a non-pareil on the marriage mart that shall be a trifle comelier than the fright you just described.”

  Roger laughed, and the friends rode on, chatting idly of this and that. If the man was a trifle more familiar than was the custom among servants, and if the master a little friendlier than was ordinary, there were few on the busy street to take note of it.

  When they reached the family townhouse, Roger went straight to the front door along with Aunt Garrity, while Herbert lead Roger’s horse away and rode on around to the servants’ entrance to see to the baggage and to make sure the driver took care of the horses.

  As they entered, Aunt Garrity swept one white glove along the top of the wainscoting and sniffed contemptuously when it came up with a film of dust on it.

  “Your Grace!” the under-butler bustled up to him. “Had we known that you were coming we would be better prepared! As it is, we have naught but a rump roast and a few miserable roots for dinner.”

  “I’ve brought Peter and he will see to it. For now, have a footman or two go help Herbert with the luggage. Aunt Garrity and I will want to freshen up and dress for dinner in any case.”

  Aunt Garrity sighed. “I don’t suppose you thought to send anyone ahead, Nephew. Although,” she reflected “I’ve certainly eaten worse than rump roast. Our fortunes had grown very thin shortly before my dear husband, Deacon Garrity, passed away.”

  “Indeed, and so have I, my good aunt. Perhaps,” Roger eyed the servant, trying to recall a name, “you might be so good as to show my aunt to her rooms. I can find my own way.”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” the under-butler bowed low, trying to make up for the state of the house. “I will be glad to do so.”

  * * *

  Roger stripped out of his traveling clothes and sank into a tin tub of tepid water with a sigh. Herbert had removed the Holland coverings from the beds, and was busy turning out the wardrobe, which still contained the Duke’s clothing from before he had gone into the army. He and Herbert had stayed at Roger’s club the last two seasons because Roger could not bear to be in the townhouse. It was no wonder the servants had become lax, being so long on their own.

  “Is there anything good in there, Herbert?” Roger asked. “I am sure that it is all sadly out of fashion. Nor will most of it fit. I’ve gained some breadth since I last saw that wardrobe.”

  “Some of the shirts and riding breeches, I think,” Herbert replied. “You will want the things we brought for Court, and for cotillions and crushes, but I doubt not that you will want to visit the stables and get some exercise. Certainly, some of these will do for your fencing and pugilism practice.”

  “Thank God and the Prince that those are still considered gentlemanly pursuits, along with hunting and raising hounds else I should go mad.”

  “Life was a little more entertaining on the continent, Your Grace,” Herbert emphasized the title, turning from the wardrobe with an armful of clothing. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and the twinkle in his eye showed that he was joking.

  Roger laughed. “Well, it was not dull. Although perhaps this is a little more comfortable than slogging through oceans of mud, then dodging cannonballs, and finally sitting down to a dinner of scrawny chicken that you managed to capture.”

  “It was a starving chicken,” Herbert replied. “We did it a kindness by putting it out of its misery.”

  “Speaking of dinner, are we doing the poor souls who have kept this manse from falling down for the last two years the disservice of eating up their only food?”

  “Oh, no, my friend. That young cook we brought with us got right to work, and I slipped the youngest footman a couple of shillings to go out and procure a few things that he needed.” Herbert surveyed the out-of-season wool jacket, checking it for moth holes.

  “That is good to know. You cannot seriously be thinking of salvaging that for me, Herbert. It was tight through the shoulders before we left.”

  “No, no, but it does still have some good fabric. I believe it can do service in the poor box.”

  “Well, thank you for taking care of dinner, Herbert. I should dislike knowing that we were eating up the last morsel and letting the household go hungry.”

  “Indeed, sir, they shall all eat better than they would have before we came. That young cook seems to know his trade. Not surprising since the estate cook is his grandmother. He seems to regard this as an opportunity to prove himself.” Herbert set aside the pile of clothing and brought a warmed towel so that Roger could get out of his bath.

  “I am glad someone will get some joy of this expedition. How do we go about this, Herbert? I am sure I should know, but my head is all of a jumble.”

  “And no wonder, Roger. It has been a very strange and difficult two years for you. But here is what we shall do. First, I will put on my proper servant face, and deal with setting this room to rights.”

  “Well enough for you, Herbert, but what will I be doing?”

  “You, Your Grace, will go down to dinner and expect this slovenly lot of servants to do their duty. You will allow Peter to let them know that your Aunt Garrity will be in charge of them. She seems to have a good grasp of what is proper in a household.” Herbert held up a neatly brushed and pressed pair of knee breeches and Roger’s third best dinner jacket. “I believe these will do for a dinner at home. Do they please you?”

  “Well enough,” Roger said, toweling off and struggling into his small clothes. “That takes care of tonight. But what then, Herbert, what then?”

  “Then, tomorrow the Duke of Shelthom will do his duty by making morning calls and leaving his card with such members of the peerage as are in town. Meanwhile, his good and loyal servant,” Herbert bowed, indicating himself, “will collect the scuttlebutt from the servant’s hall as to which households have eligible daughters with handsome dowries.”

  Roger laughed. “You are my true and loyal friend, as always. I knew you would have a scheme.”

  And Roger allowed himself to be clad in his third-best dinner gear and went downstairs to give the servants and his Aunt Garrity a chance to show their mettle.

  * * *

  The dinner was unexceptional, but quite edible considering what the young cook had to work with. It began with
a bit of beef broth, followed up with slices of beef, flanked with turnips, carrots and a small tureen of peas. There was even some sort of sweet – a thin egg roll drizzled with honey. But Roger scarcely noticed what he was eating.

  He kept replaying in his mind vision of the lovely young woman, caught in a ray of sunlight.

  Romping. She was romping. Ladies of quality don’t romp, but she was amazing.

  He could hear the silvery laugh, so merry and genuine.

  I wish she could be an heiress, but I am sure that is too much to hope for. I wonder who she is and what she is really like?

  Chapter 5