Ivo studied Andrew over the glass. “You look like a man with something on his mind.”
“On the day I went up to London shots were fired in the wood. One came perilously close to my son. It was in an area where no one is permitted to discharge a firearm.”
Ivo raised his eyebrows. “And you believe it was me?”
“I don’t know who it was. But I intend to find out.”
Ivo swirled the Cognac in the snifter then tossed it back. “Well I’m afraid I can’t help you with that.”
“Were you out riding?”
He rubbed his chin. “With Greta in London? No. I was in bed, I imagine. Alone as it happens.”
Andrew frowned. “And since you mention it, I would prefer you to leave my female staff alone.”
A smile tugged at Ivo’s mouth. “You mean the governess? Tasty little piece, isn’t she?”
Andrew’s blood boiled, Greta’s brother or no, he wouldn’t get away with that. “Whether she is or not, Miss Harrismith must be left to do her work. She is not here for your amusement.”
“Very well, Your Grace.” Ivo cocked an eyebrow. “I shall avoid the governess.”
“And the rest of my female staff,” Andrew added. “None are here to entertain you. If you wish for feminine company, I advise you to return to Town.”
“Unfortunately, Greta might object to that.”
Andrew found he didn’t much care. “I’m sure your sister can be persuaded to part with you.”
“Perhaps. She has little need of my company.”
Andrew narrowed his eyes. “Which means?”
“Your cousin has been most attentive. But I shouldn’t worry, Your Grace. He could never be your rival.”
For a moment Andrew quietly studied him. The man was being deliberately provoking. Why, he had no idea. Andrew put down his glass and stood, gazing pointedly at the arrogant man, wanting him off his property and out of his sight. In another minute he might forget he was the host, and this man Greta’s brother. “If you’ll excuse me, I am rather busy.”
Ivo stood. “I’m considering going into Oxford for a few days.”
“My carriage is at your disposal.”
Ivo nodded. “Then I shall leave tomorrow. I’ll see you at dinner, Your Grace. We can make up a four for whist. Or might we play vingt-et-un for higher stakes?” At the shake of Andrew’s head, Ivo held his rather delicate long fingers over his mouth as if to stifle a yawn.
The door closed. Deuce take it! The fellow needs a lesson in manners, Andrew thought.
At four o’clock, he entered the yellow salon where Greta sat alone reading a magazine, dressed in a blue gown the color of her eyes. She put down the magazine. “I had hoped you’d ride with me this afternoon, Harrow.”
“Tomorrow, Greta. I promise.” He seated himself beside her on the sofa upholstered in gold damask. “I must apologize. I have been a neglectful host. It was not my intention, but matters have conspired to keep me busy.”
Greta frowned. “You have been preoccupied since we arrived. I find myself wondering what has caused such a change in you.”
“There was a fire in the nursery.”
“A fire? Dear me. Was it put out?”
“Yes, thankfully, by the governess.”
“The governess. Now why am I not surprised? She is a schemer, Harrow, I did warn you.”
He sighed. “You are mistaken. Miss Harrismith came upon the fire, she didn’t cause it. Let us cease this ridiculous conversation. Allow me instead to tell you how eager I am for you to meet my children.”
“I am sorry. Please forgive me.” Greta poured Andrew a cup of tea and added lemon, just as he liked it. She handed him the cup and saucer with her pretty smile.
A footman admitted Miss Harrismith into the room. She led Barbara by the hand with William following. The governess ushered his children across the Axminister carpet. In their brushed and combed neatness they stood shyly before them. Andrew’s deep love for them caught at him chokingly.
He cleared his throat. “Greta, allow me to introduce you to my son and daughter, William and Barbara. Children, please greet Baroness Elsenberg.”
“How do you do.” Greta held out a hand to William.
William bowed, but made no move to take her hand.
“And this must be Barbara.” Greta quickly turned her face toward his daughter who had wobbled into a curtsey. “Your father speaks of you often. What a pretty kindchen you are.”
“What is that?” Barbara frowned and turned to the governess for an answer.
Greta put a hand on the aquamarine and gold necklace at her throat. “A kindchen is a baby girl, Barbara.”
Barbara looked shocked. “I am not a baby.”
“No, of course you are not. It also means a young girl.” Greta threaded her fingers through the gold chain.
Barbara edged closer. “That’s pretty.”
Greta sat up straighter. “Yes. It is very special to me.”
Barbara leaned against Greta’s knee. “Why?”
“It was a gift…” Greta shrugged and appealed to Andrew.
“It is bad manners to ask personal questions, Barbara.” Andrew noticed that Miss Harrismith had retreated to stand by the door.
“Why’s it persnal?” Barbara asked.
Greta gave a strained smile. “Because your father said it was, my dear.”
Andrew tamped down a sigh. “Sit down, please, both of you. Have your afternoon tea. Miss Harrismith, will you assist the children?”
The governess hurried over. Murmuring to Barbara, she settled the child beside William on the sofa opposite Greta, and placed napkins in their laps.
Greta turned the conversation to a letter that had come from a mutual acquaintance of theirs. “They will be in London on Friday for only a short time,” she said. “I do hope you will spare a few days to dine with them.”
“I shall try to.” Andrew’s attention was caught by the governess in her demure gown, neatly cutting a portion of cake for Barbara, while quietly preventing William from overloading his plate. It reminded him pleasantly of their picnic by the river and he found himself smiling.
Greta sighed. “Please do, Harrow. The charms of the English countryside are all very well, but the company will be more entertaining in London.”
The governess whispered something in William’s ear. His son cleared his throat. “Are you fond of horses, Baroness?”
She turned to look at him. “But of course, Lord William. We kept an excellent stable in Germany.”
“Did you have some Holsteiners? That is a fine warm-blood breed,” William asked, his young face flushed with enthusiasm.
Greta raised her eyebrows. She shook her head with a laugh. “I didn’t much care what breed they were as long as they obeyed me when I rode them.”
William slumped in his chair.
Before Andrew could smooth things over, Miss Harrismith sat forward. “If you’ll permit me, Baroness. Lord William is most interested in the history of horses, particularly the Arab.”
“How enlightening.” Greta stared sharply at Jenny while her hand returned to her necklace.
Andrew sat back and crossed his arms pleased that his son was gaining in confidence. “A fascinating subject, William. Please tell us more.”
William reddened and launched into a discussion of his favorite subject. As he began to describe the Byerly Turk, Andrew, with a degree of amusement, felt Greta sag back against the cushions beside him. He must take her to London to dine with her friends. This was all too unfamiliar. Once she became more acquainted with English ways, she would enjoy the Season in London as well as their time spent in the country. And surely, she would come to love the children. What woman could not? Why even Miss Harrismith, who sat listening intently to every word William uttered, while preventing Barbara from jumping up, was obviously very fond of them.
William came to the end of his discussion and gazed expectantly at Greta.
“Thank you, William. That wa
s… most educational,” Greta said.
Andrew smiled warmly at his son. “Your knowledge is impressive, William.”
Barbara managed to evade Miss Harrismith and slid off the sofa. “William knows everything!” she declared in a loud voice.
Her brother grinned at her.
It pleased Andrew to see how fond of each other they were.
“Perhaps I should take the children for a walk as they’ve finished their tea, Your Grace?” Miss Harrismith suggested.
“Yes, thank you, Miss Harrismith.”
When the door closed on them he turned to Greta. “Now you know all about breeding horses.”
“I do hope so…” With a smile, she reached out to bring him closer.
The door opened, and Raymond strolled in. “Well, here you are. I could do with a cup of tea, I just rode from the village.”
“Ring for a fresh pot, Ray,” Andrew said. He rose. “I shall join you before dinner, Greta.”
She pursed her lips and nodded.
“My secretary wishes to see me, but come to the library in a half an hour, will you, Ray? There’s something I need to ask you.”
Raymond turned from smiling at Greta. “Very well, Andrew.”
Andrew left the room feeling unsettled. The sense of order he’d wished for in his life seemed further away than ever.
Chapter Nine
Birds flocked in the majestic oaks and elms as Jenny and the children strolled through the park. William swung from a low branch while Barbara gathered pink daisies to make a daisy chain. It was cool, but a lovely day. The trees were in glorious autumn leaf, the bronze, gold, and burgundy a bright contrast against the gray beech trunks and the silver bark of the birch. In the distance, a stag stood like a statue watching them.
Inevitably, their walk ended at the stables where they met Marcus, the new groom recently come from London.
“You’ll be able to ride again tomorrow, Lord William,” Jenny said, trying not to be disappointed that her brief sojourn on horseback had ended.
William patted a chestnut’s neck when it thrust its head over the top of the stall door. “I wish Father would give me my own mount.”
“Isn’t Lavender your horse? You ride her every day.”
William turned to frown at her.
“You have to be patient, Lord William. More things will come to you as you grow older and gain more experience. It wouldn’t do to get everything you want all at once, now would it?”
William cast her a disbelieving glance.
She smiled. “Otherwise, what would you have to look forward to?”
She left William talking to the stable boy who perched on a stone wall polishing saddles and went in search of Barbara who had disappeared through the stable door. Inside, the air was heavy with the blended smells of hot horseflesh, saddle oil, leather, and feed. The little girl sat cross-legged on the hay-strewn floor with two young cats in her lap. She looked up, her face vivid with delight.
“You’ll spoil your dress, Lady Barbara,” Jenny said halfheartedly. She couldn’t help being charmed by the sight as Barbara stroked the ginger cat while the gray and white cat tried to climb her bodice.
“Aren’t the kittens bootiful?”
Jenny crouched down and stroked the gray one’s silky head. “Yes, indeed they are.”
William followed them inside. “I say, what nice cats. Which one do you like best, Barbara?”
“The orange one,” Barbara said, hugging the purring animal. “I want it.”
“It would be unkind to take it away from its family,” Jenny began, doubtful that the children would be allowed to keep a stable cat in the schoolroom.
Barbara’s big blue eyes flooded with tears. “Just for one night. Please.”
“You must seek your father’s permission,” Jenny said uneasily. She should handle this herself, but that meant she must say no. The duke would be irritated at being disturbed over such a trivial matter, and she’d already annoyed him more than once.
There was nothing for it. She straightened and held out her hand to Barbara. “Shall we go and ask your father?” Jenny didn’t want to disappoint Barbara, when the children should have a pet. They had always had cats and dogs at home. She might annoy His Grace, but she doubted he could refuse his small daughter’s wish.
“Would you like me to carry the cat?” William asked.
Barbara shook her head refusing to relinquish the soft purring bundle in her arms. In a slow and stately procession they left the stable yard and crossed the gravel drive. Entering the formal gardens, they approached the southern wing where the library was situated, and the duke might be found. If he wasn’t there, Jenny would have to deal with the matter herself. Should he be entertaining his guests, she had no intention of entering the house by the front door. They would have to climb the staircase to the elegant salon with walls of gold silk, silk damask sofas and rich Eastern carpets, which was far too beautiful a room to receive two grubby children and an animal. A grin tugged her lips when she imagined the look on the baroness’ face in response to that. If the lady had anything to do with it, Jenny would be dismissed on the spot.
*
When Clovis entered the library, Andrew looked up from his desk where his secretary, Mr. Anthony Bishop, hovered with the heated wax, while he signed a pile of letters.
Andrew frowned as he pressed his seal into the red wax. “Still confident it wasn’t poachers, Clovis?”
“As much as I can be, Your Grace. None have been seen around these parts for a while. The magistrate who presides over the Oxford Assizes could have deterred them. He’s had a few hanged in the past. The last were transported to a penal colony. Perhaps for this reason, they’ve begun to poach farther afield.”
“Still, you’ll keep an eye out. Check the areas where they used to set their traps.”
“I will, Your Grace.”
Andrew turned back to his secretary after Clovis left them. “How many more, Bishop?”
“Half a dozen, Your Grace, and there’s that notice from the bailiff.”
“Let’s get to it, then.”
Pen poised over a letter, Andrew glanced up with annoyance when someone scratched on the door.
Raymond walked in. “You wished to see me, Andrew?”
Andrew replaced his pen in the holder. “Yes. Bishop, can you give us a few minutes?”
When his secretary left the room, Andrew joined his cousin, who stood in front of a fine oil painting of mares and foals in a landscape. “I’ve always liked this one,” Raymond said.
“Yes, a favorite of mine. Stubbs had a sure hand with horses.”
Raymond turned to glance at him curiosity writ large on his face. “What did you wish to speak to me about?”
“Have you been hunting in the woods?”
His eyes widened. “No, why?”
“William came very close to being shot. Whizzed over his head.”
“Good God! But who would be so careless? A poacher?”
“Clovis doubts it.”
Raymond frowned. He raised his hands, palms up. “You don’t think I could do a bloody reckless thing like that?”
“Ray, it’s imperative that I find out who almost killed my son. You have a better chance of learning something from the staff than I do. They might be keeping knowledge of it to themselves, either afraid to come forward, or protecting someone.”
He squared his shoulders. “You can rely on me, Andrew. I know I haven’t been behaving quite up to snuff of late. But I would never endanger William’s life. I’m fond of the boy.”
Andrew laid a hand on his shoulder. “Yes. I know you are.”
With a nod Raymond made for the door.
“Ray?” Andrew called before he reached it. He chose his words carefully. “You seem to enjoy the baroness’ company.”
His cousin swiveled. He frowned. “What makes you think…”
Andrew smiled. “Greta is lovely and charming company.”
“Are you planning
to marry her, Andrew?”
“Nothing’s settled between us, but it’s possible.”
“Well, if you do, you’re a lucky fellow. Don’t worry. I’m not foolish enough to believe a lady of her wealth and rank would consider a suit of mine.” He gave a half laugh. “I won’t attempt to snatch her from you if that’s what you fear.”
Andrew chuckled. “I seem to remember that you weren’t always so scrupulous.”
“When we were youths, it was merely lighthearted play. A game with us back then, wasn’t it? I’d say we ended up about even.”
“You might have a slight edge. Unfortunately, life has become more serious since those days.”
Raymond nodded. “I’ll see what I can discover. It’s likely an accident that no one is going to lay claim to. Some fool…”
Unsettled after Raymond left, Andrew wandered over to the window. In the garden, the governess led his children along the path. Was that a cat his daughter hugged to her chest? He threw open the window. “Did you wish to see me, Miss Harrismith?”
Her fingers toyed with her brooch, a high color on her cheeks. “Your Grace, Barbara has her heart set on taking the kitten to the nursery. Not wishing to upset her I’ve suggested she can take it to the schoolroom for a brief stay, with your permission.”
“His name is Carrot,” Barbara said.
“I thought one night couldn’t hurt, but of course, it is your decision, Your Grace,” Miss Harrismith continued. “As I’ve told the children.”
“I imagine you would wish to hand such an important decision to me,” Andrew said with a wry lift of his lips. He was rewarded with a slight widening of her darkly fringed eyes and a small lift of her lips while a brief moment of understanding passed between them. The minx has cornered me very neatly, he thought.
“We’ll take good care of the kitten, Father,” William said.
“Carrot doesn’t seem a particularly appropriate name for a cat.” Andrew fought a grin. “Is the animal male or female?”
“I have yet to ascertain the kitten’s sex,” Miss Harrismith said. Did he see a corresponding glint of humor in her eyes?
Regency Scandals and Scoundrels: A Regency Historical Romance Collection Page 53
