A Duke for Christmas (A Cotswolds Christmas Book 2)

by Emma Sloane

  Gray’s attention turned to Hugh and he found his nephew’s gaze intent on the younger lady, a tender half-smile curving his mouth.

  “Good morning, your Grace,” Penelope’s greeting drew him away from Hugh’s surprising reaction to Lady Hamilton. He realized Penelope’s reaction to him contained a bit more reserve than the smile she’d given Hugh although her eyes still sparkled.

  Her expression held none of the usual fawning deference accorded him by ladies of the ton. Surprisingly, he found he quite appreciated the lack. “Good morning, Lady Wentworth.” He realized his smile may have held more than polite interest when her horse shifted, answering the sudden tightening of gloved feminine hands on the reins.

  She nodded a hello and quickly recovered her equilibrium, however, and gestured at her companions. “May I make known to you my cousin, Lady Amelia Hamilton and her brother, Master William Hamilton.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you.” He nodded at the bright-eyed lad and his older sister. “You’ve an excellent seat in the saddle, William. It appears you led the ladies on a merry chase.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” William’s eyes snapped with delight. “And now they have to share their apple pastries at breakfast this morning, for we wagered and I won.”

  “Congratulations.” Gray’s swift grin echoed the boy’s. He ran a practiced eye over William’s mount. “You’ve a fine horse.” He glanced at the other two horses before raising a brow at Hugh. “Excellent riding stock for all of you. In fact, I think I recognize the lines from your own stable, Hugh?”

  Hugh shrugged. “You do indeed. Lady Amelia and William had to leave their mounts in the country when they came to town and since we all appreciate a good canter, I kitted them out from my stables.”

  “And his kindness was much appreciated,” Penelope interjected. “I ride my own mare on occasion but she’s getting on in years and is often more interested in ambling than a fast gallop.”

  “Well, then, it’s good you have a horse from Hugh’s collection as all his horses love to run.” And what the deuce was Hugh thinking? If the gossips knew he was opening his stables to a single female and her relatives, the speculation and betting books at Whites would have him married within the month.

  William’s mount shifted, restive, his nostrils flaring as he snorted, his warm breath puffing a clearly visible cloud of white in the frosty air.

  “Amelia,” William patted his sister’s arm to claim her attention, his attempt at a whisper loud enough to reach everyone’s ears. “Can we ride along the north path now? You promised we could this morning.”

  “Of course.” Amelia gave the others an apologetic smile. “I did promise William we'd explore today. Perhaps you would care to join us?” She directed an inquiring glance at the two men but Gray noted her gaze warmed when she looked at Hugh.

  “I’m always game for an adventure,” Hugh told her, exchanging a quick grin with William. “Gray? Penelope? You’ll be coming, as well?”

  “Of course,” Penelope said promptly.

  Gray nodded his assent and fell in beside Penelope’s mount as the others led the way along the still frost-rimed pathway.

  This wasn’t the moment for an interrogation of the pretty widow, Gray decided. The trio of Hugh, Lady Amelia, and William were within earshot just ahead. Despite the groom’s carefully maintained distance several strides behind them, no doubt he, too, could hear any conversation.

  Just because he couldn’t directly question Lady Wentworth as to her intentions toward Hugh, however, didn’t mean he couldn’t indirectly probe for information. To that end, he turned his focus to seemingly innocent conversation that would still provide facts to help form a fuller picture.

  “Do you have plans for the Christmas holidays, Lady Wentworth?” he inquired with polite interest.

  She shot him a wary and distinctly reserved glance, her eyes flashes of deep blue between a thicket of dark lashes. “I shall remain in London. This is the first year my cousins will be with me and we plan to indulge in all the festive delights the city has to offer.” A small smile curved her mouth, her profile turned toward him as her gaze focused on the boy riding ahead of them. “I’m certain William will find a vast number of festivities he feels are necessary.”

  “Is this their first visit to the city during Christmas?” Gray asked, curious about her relationship to the two.

  “Yes, it is. They’ve spent the preceding yuletide holidays at their father’s estate in Devonshire. He passed away last spring and the family feels a change of scenery will be beneficial for their spirits.”

  “You’re not concerned they’ll be missing their home during this time of year?”

  She gave him another swift, sideways glance. “No. Their older brother married last year. He and his wife are expecting their first child and plan a very quiet holiday celebration. I’m certain William and Amelia are better placed with me where they can be distracted by entertainments.”

  “I see.” Gray noted the decisive tone and the firm set of her chin. There’s a story there. I wonder if the siblings’ relationship with the brother and new wife is strained in some way. “If distractions are what is needed, London is certainly a good place to be,” he agreed amicably.

  She nodded, a determined movement. “And what are your plans for the holidays,” she asked politely. “Are you in the city until the new year?”

  “No, I’m here to speak with several business associates and to confirm arrangements for my great-aunt’s travel to Sheffield for the holidays, as well as my mother’s.”

  “Is Sheffield your ducal estate?” she inquired, slanting him another of those inquisitive, assessing glances.

  “Yes, it’s situated near Bath, in the Cotswolds.”

  A warm smile curved her mouth. “Ah, the Cotswolds. Such a lovely area. How fortunate you are to live there.”

  “I must agree,” he replied, engaged by the clear delight and interest written on her expressive features. “I have a house in town, and other estates, but Sheffield is my primary residence.”

  “I wager it’s equally appreciated by your family members,” she said, “How lovely that your aunts can spend the holidays with you. Will it be an intimate family gathering?”

  He snorted. “Unlikely. The St. Cyrs boast a wide group of relatives.”

  “Really?” she eyed him with interest. “I have a fairly small number of family members who might choose to share a holiday celebration. How large is your gathering?

  “I’m not precisely certain,” he told her. “There will be my mother and her sisters, my great aunts, a few assorted cousins including Val, and my sisters with spouses and children, of course. Frankly, I’ve lost track of the exact number. Fortunately, my housekeeper and butler have a detailed list, so Sheffield won’t be entirely unprepared.”

  “What would a duke do without his loyal butler and housekeeper?” A mischievous smile tilted her lips and sparkled in her eyes.

  Very blue eyes, he noticed. And very attractive, very kissable lips.

  He suddenly realized he’d failed to respond, distracted as he was by the curve of her mouth. What the devil did she say? He struggled for a moment before remembering.

  “I don’t know about other dukes, but I would find my butler’s absence extremely inconvenient.”

  “I can only imagine,” she replied with amusement. “I’m quite certain I would suffer enormously without my own efficient staff and my home is surely tiny in comparison to Sheffield.”

  They continued to chat about the upcoming holidays and discovered they had several mutual acquaintances before their conversation was interrupted by William. The boy had ridden ahead of the group before turning to rejoin them, repeating his forays multiple times before at last, he cantered back and reined in his mount next to Penelope.

  “I’m hungry,” he announced, his cheeks pink with cold, eyes bright.

  “William!” Amelia looked over her shoulder at him, her cheeks flushed a deeper pink with embarrassment
. “That was quite rude.”

  “Beg pardon, sirs,” William muttered, looking at Grey and Hugh from beneath lowered lashes. “It’s just that I really am hungry and cook made apple pastry this morning.” His earnest explanation had both Grey and Val hiding grins.

  “Then of course, we must excuse you,” Grey said gravely, managing not to smile. “To be fair,” he murmured in an aside to Hugh. “I’d welcome my own breakfast.”

  The men accompanied the ladies and William with their groom to their doorstep in Leicester Square before taking their leave. The streets were far more crowded now and there was little chance for conversation. Hugh left Gray when they reached his bachelor lodgings while Gray rode on to his own home in Grosvenor Square.

  He entered the morning room to find breakfast waiting and Val enjoying tea with a plate of eggs, sausage, and toasted bread liberally topped with golden butter and ruby red strawberry preserves from Sheffield’s gardens. His cousin nodded a greeting, having just taken a bite of his toast.

  “Good morning.” Gray filled a plate with much the same, adding a spoonful of kippers, before taking a seat across from Val. “No breakfast being served at your house?” he asked, lifting a brow at his cousin.

  Val took a drink of tea before his lips quirked in an amused grin. “You don’t remember telling me to attend you for breakfast this morning?”

  Gray halted, loaded fork in midair, and frowned. “No, I don’t. Did I?”

  Val shrugged. “As good as. You said you planned to join Hugh on an early ride in the park. I naturally assumed you wanted me to join you for breakfast afterward to hear what you’ve learned from him about his connection to Lady Wentworth.”

  “She was at the park, accompanied by a groom and her two cousins.”

  “Really?” Val arched a brow with interest. “Providential.”

  Gray snorted. “I’m quite certain their presence is precisely why Hugh has taken an interest in that particular park for his early morning exercise. Apparently, they frequently take advantage of the scarcity of crowds at that hour. And,” he said, taking a bite of eggs and toast, chewing and swallowing before continuing, “Hugh has been so kind as to provide mounts for them from his own well set-up stables.”

  Val stared at him. “You’re jesting.”

  “Not at all. Additionally,” Gray said, pushing back his empty plate and drawing his cup and saucer of tea nearer, “I am also fairly certain that Lady Wentworth is not the lady who has won Hugh’s attention.”

  Val frowned. “What? Not the lady? Who, then? And if not Lady Wentworth, why the deuce is he hanging about her skirts?”

  “Ah, there’s the question,” Gray replied. “The answer, of course, is that Lady Wentworth currently has a guest, her cousin, who is a very pretty woman and likely younger than Hugh.”

  “Then why isn’t Hugh paying particular attention to the cousin, rather than Lady Wentworth?”

  “Because she--Lady Hamilton--is in mourning for her late father.”

  “Ah.” Val nodded in understanding. “So you think Hugh is paying particular attention to one lady in order to be in the company of the other and misdirecting the ton gossips while doing so.”

  “Precisely.” Gray drank his tea, eyes narrowed in consideration. “I believe a visit to the great-aunts is in order.”

  “You’re on your own for that, my friend,” Val replied. “I’m off to Tattersall’s to consider a new mare that Haversley swears is perfect for my stable.” He pushed back his chair and stood, tossing his napkin on the table.

  “Meet me later at the Club? I want to take a look at the betting books.” Gray also stood and joined Val as he left the room.

  Having agreed to meet up once again after completing their individual errands, the two men departed, each in different directions.

  Chapter 4

  Lady Minerva Estebridge was Gray’s mother’s aunt and thus, his great-aunt. Together with her sisters, Augusta and Harriet, Minerva was a formidable force in ton society and an equally strong influence on Gray’s mother, him, and his sisters. In truth, the trio of great aunts maintained a strong presence in the St. Cyr family as a whole, for no actions by the family members were considered beneath their regard and influence. The younger members of the family referred to the trio as The Terrifying Threesome but never, of course, within their hearing. All were aware the older ladies were never reluctant to express their disapproval of inappropriate or rude behavior.

  Nonetheless, the St. Cyr family members universally adored the great aunts, while simultaneously exhibiting caution and sometimes, outright trepidation when they feared having offended them.

  Today, however, Gray had no such concerns. He entered the elegant Berkley Square drawing room certain of his welcome. The Dowager Countess was ensconced in one of three chairs arranged around a low table. A Wedgewood tea service in blue with gold accents held pride of place atop the gleaming mahogany surface. A silver tray with tarts and assorted pastries sat to one side of the gently steaming teapot.

  “Gray, my boy,” Lady Minerva greeted him with an affectionate smile and tilted her face upward as he walked toward her.

  Gray obeyed her unspoken request and bent to brush a light kiss against her cheek’s soft, scented skin. “You’re in fine looks this morning, Aunt. May I assume you retired early last night?”

  “Humph,” the older woman huffed and waved him to a chair. “My sisters and I all left shortly after Val, Hugh, Lady Wentworth, and yourself departed. The evening felt oddly flat without you to entertain us.”

  Gray obeyed her direction and sat. “I wasn’t aware my departure set off a general exodus,” he commented.

  “Well, it did. Tea?” Minerva lifted a delicate cup and saucer.

  Gray nodded his response and waited for her to elaborate on her comment.

  “I’m assuming your inquiring after my health is not the only reason you’re in my sitting room this morning?” Minerva handed him a steaming cup and poured another, her practiced movements graceful as she stirred a lump of sugar into her tea.

  “Ah, my dear aunt,” Gray didn’t try to hide his amusement at her question. “As always, you are two steps ahead of me.”

  Minerva huffed. “Hardly. However, my sisters and I have been making wagers as to how long it would be before you arrived in London to investigate the rumors about Hugh and Penelope Wentworth.”

  “I see.” Gray chuckled. “And which one of you won?”

  Minerva sighed, a disgruntled sound. “Harriet, of course. She does have the most annoying luck.”

  “True,” Gray agreed. “We’re fortunate she isn’t a serious gambler as I’m certain she would quickly empty the pockets of all who laid wagers with her.”

  “Yes, well, Augusta and I don’t risk actual coin with her. No one in the family would ever make that mistake,” Minerva assured him.

  “Precisely.”

  “Now, Gray, ask me what you came here to ask, as there are other wagers still on the table.”

  Gray shook his head. “Aunt Minerva, don’t tell me you not only laid bets on the time of my arrival, but also as to my conversation with you today.”

  “Of course we did. We’re elderly, dear boy, and must seek what entertainment we can find.” Her prompt reply held smug assurance.

  “Elderly,” Gray snorted. “You’re a danger to the empire, that’s what you three are.”

  Minerva waved a dismissing hand. “Yes, yes, but get on with it. What is your question.”

  “Very well,” Gray acquiesced. “As you’re the St. Cyr expert on Debrett’s ancestral lines, I wanted to inquire about Lady Amelia Hamilton, a young woman currently residing with Lady Wentworth. I believe her father passed away sometime within the last year and she and her young brother William are in town with their cousin, Lady Wentworth, through the holidays.”

  Minerva’s eyes brightened with delight. “Excellent, Grayson, I knew you would not be misled for long. You do our family proud.”

  “Really?” Gray sai
d mildly. “And why is that, pray tell?”

  “You’ve been in town less than a handful of days and have already learned what the gossips missed entirely. Hugh isn’t interested in Penelope Wentworth. However, he appears to be very much interested in her cousin, Amelia.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Exactly how did you discern the truth of the matter?”

  “I observed Hugh’s interactions with Lady Penelope, Lady Amelia, and young William this morning while riding in the park. Hugh was circumspect but to anyone who knows him well, it was readily apparent where his interest lies.” He tilted his head, eyeing Minerva. “I was unaware you had met Lady Amelia. How did you discover the truth--if we’re both correct and it is the truth,” he added.

  “Harriet, Augusta, and I visit Hookham’s Library each Tuesday afternoon,” Minerva responded. “As luck would have it, Penelope Wentworth and Amelia Hamilton appear to have the library on their calendar at the same time. We have occasionally struck up conversations about this book or that book, and discussed its possible attributes. It also happens that Hugh often pays a visit to Hookham’s on Tuesdays.” Her lips curved in a complacent smile. “An interesting happenstance, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I would,” Gray agreed wryly. “I would also say he’s a nodcock since the reason for his sudden interest in your lending library is clearly suspicious.”

  “Precisely.” Minerva nodded with conviction. “You understand, therefore, why my sisters and I have been keen observers of his interactions with the two ladies. Knowing Hugh as we do, it was quickly apparent where his interest lies, although to be fair, I doubt few outside the family would grasp the subtle clues.”

  “Perhaps not, but he seems to have been singularly careless if he plans to keep his interest concealed.”

  “He has certainly encouraged society’s belief that he’s fascinated with Lady Wentworth,” Minerva mused. “Not a bad plan, I judge, if his ultimate goal is to protect Lady Amelia’s reputation. She’s in mourning, you know.”