“What’s this clanger that is causing such upset?” A voice suddenly called out from behind them. Melody turned and found Mr. Caleb Ridlington standing before her, his great coat and top hat still on.
“Well, if it isn’t the wayward steward,” Betsy stepped beside Melody, wiping her floury hands on her apron. Her tone was playful, the man’s sudden arrival having caused a shift in her attitude. The two fell into an easy, good-natured sparring match while Melody found herself glancing behind the steward toward the door. A moment later, Zachariah stepped through, a portmanteau in one hand and his cane in the other.
“One would think I was the steward and you the Duke, Caleb. Unless there’s been a change in assigned duties and us nobles are now to carry our own luggage.” He winked at Melody who giggled, one hand in front of her mouth.
“Pardon me, Your Grace. I thought you could use the exercise. Miss Lovell’s lovely cooking and baking is starting to show.” He pointed at Zachariah’s stomach.
“You are one to talk, old chum,” Zachariah replied with a nod toward his steward’s own waistline. Melody found herself looking at Betsy who stood and watched the exchange with a smile on her lips. They both found the light-hearted exchanges between the two men entertaining. And very different from any they’d observed before between a noble and his employee.
“I dare say you both could use a bit more of my cooking. You’re both much too slender for my liking,” Betsy chimed in. For a moment, Melody found herself horrified at her friend’s blunt remark. Even though they were quite friendly with the two men now, making comments on the appearance of a noble and a gentleman was considered uncouth. However, both men grinned and nodded in agreement.
“If that is so, lovely Miss Lovell, then I say we indulge in whatever you have on your dinner menu this evening. Right after His Grace here brings his luggage to the room.”
“I shall. Alas, I’m afraid there will be a deduction on your wages for having me perform such hazardous tasks as taking up my own portmanteau.” Zachariah scoffed, but when the steward went to take the luggage, he raised a hand. “I jest, I jest. Perhaps Miss Balfour might like to escort me to the room so I can get an update on the situation involving Mr. Caney?”
Melody found herself smiling at him brightly. It was just what she’d had in mind. Not that there was anything to report, but she enjoyed his company and was eager to hear what had to say.
“Gladly, You… Zachariah. And for dinner, Betsy has prepared something rather special. A Viennese apple strudel.”
This seemed to please Zachariah immensely as his eyes widened while behind them the steward whooped.
“You, Miss Lovell, are a diamond of the first water. In every case, but this especially. Now—about those mysterious bangers…”
As they ascended the stairs, Melody found the Duke with the most bemused expression on his face. “Bangers?”
She led the way to the top floor and grinned at him.
“Clangers. Bedfordshire clangers. Have you never heard of them?” She frowned but then reminded herself that as a member of the upper class he would be unfamiliar with the types of food commoners often ate. As expected, he shook his head.
“I’m afraid not.” They were on the second floor already and he sounded as though he was getting out of breath.
“Do you need assistance with your luggage? You seem—strained.”
He grinned. “I suppose Caleb wasn’t wrong when he said I could use the exercise. Although not from the delicious food. Rather from the fact that us nobles do nothing but sit in meetings, eat, and occasionally dance. But you know all about the dancing.” He smiled at her and the memory of their dance flashed in her mind. At once, she felt herself awash with a warmth and longing for more of the same. She swallowed, chasing the inappropriate thought from her mind. She decided to change the subject to something that wasn’t bound to lead them down a potentially slippery path.
“Well, the Bedfordshire clangers you asked about are a pastry for the men working in the fields or in the mines. They’re filled on one side with something savory, like bacon and potatoes, onions. Anything you like. The other side has a jam or fruit. So it is a main course and dessert in one. Betsy’s are very popular. She hails from Bedfordshire, so she is rather the expert.”
“Sounds handy to have.”
“That it is, especially as the farm hands need something practical yet filling when working in the field. Some of them have grown to like them so much, Betsy has to make them for the dinner rush on special order.”
They’d arrived in front of the bedroom door and she unlocked it, standing aside to let him in.
“I hope to try some at dinner, along with the strudel. I’ve not had it since the Vienna Accords. It will bring back pleasant memories.” He paused and then added, “And I hope to have the pleasure of your company again at dinner. And Miss Lovell, if she can be spared.”
“Of course, Zachariah, I will let her know at once.”
She watched as he entered and placed the portmanteau on the bed. Melody turned to make her way down the stairs to attend to the dinner rush before sitting down to dine with him, only to have him call out her name. It sounded sweet and precious from his lips and she felt again that warmth inside of her.
“Would you have a moment longer?” When she turned, she saw that he was holding a wrapped item in his hand and her hand went to her throat. Not another gift. He’d been too generous.
“I wanted to give you this, as a token of my appreciation.”
She shook her head. “I cannot take anything else from you, Zachariah.
I am beginning to feel as though I take advantage of your good nature. You’ve given us so much when you didn’t need to.”
“It is because I want to. And you’ve given me so much insight into the life of a woman in business. You have no idea how much it’s helped me. Plus, I now know all about clangers.” He smiled, but it was a small, shy smile. Almost as if he were afraid of her reply. She sighed and shook her head.
“You’ve shown your gratitude in many ways. And I am so glad of the gifts you’ve provided for the inn. I will not turn them down but I cannot take anything else that is a personal gift to me. The chess set was quite the token of appreciation. And anyway, you’ve repaid me for anything you think I’ve done by providing the constables around the clock. I cannot take anything else, please to do not ask me to.”
His face fell then, as her words sunk in. He gave a curt nod and returned the item to the portmanteau. There was such crushing defeat in the expression on his face she felt badly at once and wanted to take back her words, kind and truthful as they had been. But she could not.
“I must assist with the dinner rush, if you will excuse me.”
“I hope to still see you at dinner?” His tone was subdued and only made it even more evident how hurt he was. She gave him a nod before turning and making her way downstairs, her heart oddly heavy.
Chapter 24
Zachariah sat on the edge of the bed when Caleb entered his chamber, dressed in his finest attire. Much too fine for the humble inn’s dining area. However, Zachariah knew the attire was as much for Miss Lovell’s benefit as for his own comfort.
“Old chap, why so Friday-faced? Did she not like your gift?”
He looked up from the bed and shrugged. “I would not know as she refused to so much as look at it. She feels I have done enough out of gratitude and it is now making her feel badly.”
Caleb scoffed at this. “Is that so? Have you told her the perils you had to go through in order to make the purchase? First the dreaded meeting with matchmaker’s latest find and then an encounter with the Parsons’ ladies. If you told her about it, she’d understand the sacrifices you made.”
Zachariah did not feel like jesting at the present time and simply rose.
“It matters little. It is not as though it makes any difference if she accepts the gift or not. And we will be in India soon enough, if all goes well.”
His friend n
odded but the expression on his face hardened. “Yes, yes, India. We will be gone for some time. Months. Nearly a year I suspect, depending on the weather.”
“You sound as though you do not care for the idea any longer.”
“I do care, however, the thought of being away for such a long time does not please me as it once did.” He blinked. “And I suspect you feel the same.”
Zachariah shook his head. “It pleases me greatly to explore our business opportunities and to meet our partners face to face, rather than just by way of the post. Alas, I promised Miss Balfour that I would be available to protect her interests, both with the business needs and with that horrid Mr. Caney. I will not be able to oversee the hunt for him nor ensure interest to protect it all the way from India.”
He stopped himself, and shook his head. “Now I sound exactly like my peers, the ones who do not think my idea of opening a university that women may attend is proper. The ones who believe that a woman needs a man to protect her. Listen to me. I sound exactly the same.”
Caleb shook his head. “But there is a difference. Miss Balfour has received credible threats; her life could even be in danger. It is only the decent thing to do, to offer assistance. You would do the same for any innkeeper in the same situation, would you not?”
He shrugged as he pondered it. He would offer his financial assistance to any decent business owner who was in trouble, man or woman. But would he go to such length as to supply them with paper, sugar, and whatever else was needed? Would be bestow a hand-carved chess sent to them? No. He would not. These things he did because Miss Balfour was a woman. A kind, decent woman, but because she was a woman nonetheless. He treated her differently, because she was a woman. He told Caleb as much as his friend shrugged.
“I suppose so. But is it such a bad thing to lend her a hand? She is disadvantaged because she is not a man, so should she not take the help when offered so she might better herself, and then assist others as she already has? And should you not offer that assistance, being that you are in the position to do so? And, conversely, are you not doing much the same by trying to make education available to all the women of England?”
He supposed this much was true. He’d long fought in the House of Lords for the opportunity to provide proper schooling for women, to allow them the ability to become physicians, and any other trade that struck them.
“I suppose I would risk the inroad I’ve made with the other lords were I to go to India now. Perhaps it would be wise to postpone the trip until after Michaelmas? The weather ought to be better for sailing then, too.”
This pleased his friend immensely and he nodded with some enthusiasm. “I agree. Very much so. We will find a way to distract the duchess from her desire to marry you off to the nearest eligible noblewoman until then.” He winked.
“If only we could. I do not cherish the idea of finding another lady waiting for me every time I return home. And now not even London is safe from Miss Bagwell’s ambushes.”
“You poor fellow. To have pretty, rich, and sophisticated women thrown at you from all directions. What a miserable life you lead, indeed.”
Zachariah grimaced at his friend and tossed a pillow at him with such force the steward tumbled backwards.
“Very well! I shall keep my mouth closed regarding the matter. Now,” Caleb clapped his hands together. “I reckon it is high time we indulge in these mysterious bangers that I heard about. They are evidently a specialty of my creampuff.” He grinned while Zachariah rose, chuckling himself.
“Your creampuff knows how to attend to your culinary needs.”
“She does, old chum, she does. Another reason not to travel to India just yet. I must ensure I am properly fattened up before we go.” He rubbed his stomach.
“That, my friend, is the last thing you need.” Zachariah poked his finger into his friend’s stomach which was protruding forward from beneath his waistcoat more and more since their discovery of the Gentle Rose Inn. Caleb slapped his hand away as if offended but laughed at the same time.
“Let us go. They are sure to be awaiting our arrival.”
The two men made their way back downstairs into the crowded dining room. Without waiting, they made their way to the usual seat. Zachariah scanned the room until his eyes rested, at last, on Melody. Against his better judgment he felt himself breaking into a wide smile and the anticipation of her impending company made him feel happy, despite her earlier abrupt refusal of his gift.
Why is it that seeing her gives me such a thrill each time? Makes me question my choices and plans? Why is it I have this curious feeling in my stomach? Could it be? No…
He shook his head, dismissing the growing feelings within him and took a seat beside Caleb, who eagerly craned his neck in the direction of Miss Lovell.
After the consumption of one entire bottle of wine, Zachariah felt far less upset by the refusal of his carefully selected gift. As in their prior engagements, conversation flowed as freely as the wine, particularly between Miss Lovell and Caleb.
“Now. Bedfordshire clangers…” Caleb said, his words already a little slurred from the quick intake of wine. “See, I learned the word!”
“Here, here, he’s learned the difference between banger and clanger, a round of applause is in order, I reckon,” Miss Lovell laughed while Caleb got up and bowed before the entire, if confused, dinner crowd.
“Yes, rather proud of myself I am. Now, we’re nowhere near Bedfordshire, so how come you are such an expert at these delicious contraptions?” He raised one of the pastries and twirled it back and forth. Zachariah found them delicious as well and could understand just why they were so popular with farmers.
“I’m from the area,” Miss Lovell then said. He detected a hesitation in her tone which was only confirmed when he glanced at her and saw that her usually cheerful, round face seemed drawn. Her jaw was clenched and her hands were curling into fists.
“By Jove, are you now? So is my dear mother. Where about?” Caleb inquired, oblivious to her discomfort. Zachariah was about to interrupt when he reminded himself that it was not up to him to speak for her. If the young woman did not wish to discuss the matter, it was for her to say so, not him.
He locked eyes with Miss Balfour beside him and realized she, too, sat with her hands clenched and her rich lips pressed into a thin line.
“Dunstable,” she replied quietly. Her eyes were fixed on her plate where a half-eaten piece of strudel sat. At last, Caleb realized the direction the conversation had taken and blinked at the woman.
“I am sorry, have I offended you in some way?” The concern in his voice was genuine but it fell on deaf ears as Miss Lovell suddenly rose. She took her plate and looked around their group.
“I am not offended. However, I am needed in the kitchen. If you will excuse me. Enjoy your strudel.”
She left then, leaving a devastated Caleb behind. Zachariah’s heart broke for his friend who looked after the woman as though he wanted nothing more but to rush after her—and knowing he could not.
Chapter 25
“I am sorry if I said the wrong thing. I only asked her about the origin of the pastry. I didn’t know…” Caleb stammered, his gaze darting from her to Zachariah and back.
“Please, you said nothing wrong. It is just that Betsy does not like to think of her time back home. It was not an easy life and she prefers to leave it in the past.”
“That is understandable. I only feel dreadful to have caused her discomfort. I…” he looked toward the kitchen. “Do you suppose I could apologize to her? Or ought I leave her be?”
Melody could not help but smile. It was evident that he cared about her and she simply could not bring herself to tell him to keep away. “She will appreciate you coming to see her. But know this. Betsy is not used to being taken care of, so if she rebuffs you, you will know why. Do not be vexed.”
He rose and gave a slight bow. “I thank you, Miss Balfour.” When he had departed, she turned to Zachariah who’d observed
the whole exchange with a frown on his handsome face. She noticed a small line was beginning to form between his beautiful green eyes.
For one who leads such a privileged life, he must worry a great deal. He seems such a caring man, it is no wonder.
“Has she had a troubled life back home?”
Melody glanced at him, unsure if she ought to tell him her story or not. Betsy did not usually mind telling her tale, but it was most often to young women who made their way to the Gentle Rose in search of protection or support, not nobles from London. Still, he’d hear the story somewhere or other anyhow if he only asked around. She cleared her throat.
“Betsy suffered the same fate as I. Her husband, Jonathan, was killed in battle in France. Alas, she was not as lucky as I to have a source of income at the ready.” She motioned to the inn she and her husband had run together. “She was reliant on her father-in-law who, shall we say, was not a kind man. He made…” she hesitated and bit her lip. “Unwanted advances toward her.”
Desperately Inn Love with the Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 16
