“What? By Jove, what an outrage. How dare he? His own daughter-in-law?” The outrage in his voice had an odd effect on her. It soothed her and made her ever more sure of his pure character.
“Indeed. She could only stay for so long before having to make the choice to give in or run away. So, she ran away. She had nobody but her husband’s family. Her own had died of consumption but for a younger sister who could offer no help. She worked where she could, and her father-in-law was always right behind, looking to bring her back. Eventually, I came upon her. Well. She came upon me. She heard that the owner of the Gentle Rose Inn was a woman, so she took her chances. And the rest you know.”
He shook his head as he listened. Then he fixed his eyes on hers. “Do you know, I was going to ask you about a matter exactly as this. For I conversed with a lady of the upper class just this afternoon who lamented the lack of an heir and son. I wondered what it might be like for a woman of the working class should her husband pass and she have no family. It seems now I know.”
“They would be expected to take care of themselves. As I have. As Betsy has. But we have none of the advantaged of the upper class. No rich relatives, and no acquaintances in high places to assist us. As I told you before, many of my employees did not know how to read until I taught them. Betsy included.”
He shook his head. “It is such an error of judgement to deny a woman the right to learn as a man does. Look what you could do by the power of your own determination. Imagine if all women had the same chance.”
She scoffed at this. Zachariah was a lovely man with a good heart, but he was a dreamer. Or much ahead of his time. In addition, he still did not truly understand her motivation.
“My determination was fueled entirely by desperation. Had I not made the inn work, had I not paid the outrageous prices you saw me pay, had I not bartered, fought, quarreled, and asserted myself, I would have been in the poorhouse by now. As would all the other women you see working here.”
He fell silent and rubbed his chin as he absent-mindedly stabbed his apple strudel with a fork. She took the time to finish off her glass of Port and by the time she sat it down and dabbed her mouth with a napkin, he’d gathered his thoughts.
“Do you feel that if women had the chance to go to school or a university as men do—would they?”
She found herself frowning. “University? A woman?” Now it was her turn to ponder. “I am sure they would, if it were accepted by her family. But that would require her first being taught basic subjects such as reading and writing.”
“The University would have opportunity for such a case. There could be levels. Any woman could study there.”
“It sounds as though you have thought about this quite a bit.”
He blushed then and interlaced his fingers, stretching them until they gave a small pop.
“I have. And I have planned to open just such a place of study. On my country estate there is an old chapel that I had a mind to renovate and turn into a University. Of course, I would first need the approval of my peers for such a scheme.”
Melody found herself almost incapable of containing her excitement. The thought of a University, and proper schooling for women, was fascinating to her.
“Will you be able to convince them?”
“I hope so. With time. I have made some progress with some of the more forward-thinking peers. I plan to address the House of Lords tomorrow. That is in part why I wanted to learn more about a woman business owner. I hope you do not mind my using the examples of what I’ve learned from you. I won’t use your name, of course.”
She beamed at him. “I do not mind at all. In fact, you are welcome to use my name if it helps you further your needs.”
Melody saw at once that the idea pleased, yet surprised him. “I will gladly do so. Perhaps it will even increase your business from traveling aristocrats.”
“I will have to really get started on trying for a loan to do up the inn,” she smiled.
“And my offer to accompany you to the bank stands.”
There was a moment of silence between them before she licked her lips and looked up at him. “I would like that.”
“Perhaps when I return after my speech at the House of Lords? I will be back here in a few days.”
She nodded, pleased to hear he would be back so soon. She found herself a little sad every time he left. Lately she’d found that she was counting the days until he returned, not that she’d admit this to anybody. Not even Betsy.
“I will look forward to hearing all about it.”
They fell into an easy conversation and Melody found herself surprised when at last she looked up and saw the dining room almost deserted. The maids were cleaning up and Betsy, a glass of brandy in front of her, was seated with Caleb at a table near the kitchen. When she looked at the clock, she saw it was almost two in the morning.
“I did not realize the time, Zachariah. I must go to sleep, lest I do not rise in time in the morning. And so must Betsy.”
She looked over toward her friend whose visage had brightened considerably since the last time she saw her. She nodded with her head toward the stairs and Betsy at once made her excuses. Zachariah rose.
“It has been a pleasure, as always, to converse with you. And so insightful. Again, I thank you for allowing me to speak about you to my fellow peers.” He bowed and held out his hand so she could place hers into his.
To her surprise, he kissed it. The feeling of his cold lips on her bare skin made her tingle and she quickly curtsied and turned toward the steps where Betsy already waited for her.
“What an evening, Mellie. I am sorry to dash off as I did.”
“I think His Grace understood. I hope you do not mind, but I shared your story with him,” she braced herself for a moment in case her friend did not take this news well, but fortunately she did.
“I expected you would. Anyhow Mr. Ridlington asked me as well and I told him. So, it is all the same to me.” She paused as they climbed the stairs, as she looked at Melody from the side. “It seems you had a very intense conversation, am I right?”
“What do you mean?” She was feeling somehow self-conscious of the question, for she was aware they had spent quite some time talking and forgetting the world around them.
“I am just saying you looked contented and so did he. That is all.”
Melody shrugged, “The wine helped, I suppose. However, I ought to tell you. He plans to open a University for women. And he is to address the House of Lords this week to talk about it. He wishes to use me and the inn as a sample of a successful businesswoman.”
Betsy yelped at this and slapped a hand in front of her face to stifle the noise. “Melody, that is wonderful! A mention of you and your inn in front of all of the peers? We might get more business here. Faith! I will have to find some more sophisticated recipes. I doubt the nobility will want to always dine on our simple fare.” Melody smiled to herself, pleased at her friend’s reaction. Behind her friend’s eyes she could almost see the recipes she considered for this—as yet to materialize—new crowd.
“Let us not be hasty. It has not yet happened and he did not feel as though it would go very well, given the membership are all of the old guard. Set in their ways.”
Betsy placed a hand on her shoulder as they arrived at the second floor. “Where there is one like the Duke of Sandorne, there might be another. Trust, my friend, trust. Now, I am fatigued, as the wine and conversation have made me weary. I wish you the sweetest of dreams. And I am sure you will have them.” She winked at her and opened the door to her chamber, leaving Melody to set off toward her own bed.
I can hardly believe the evening passed so quickly. Anytime he is near time flies away from me and I lose myself a little more in his presence. He is unique in every way. A school for women. A university, no less.
She smiled to herself and opened the door, stopping in her tracks when she spotted an item on her neatly made bed. Melody frowned and stepped closer toward it and t
hen shook her head.
“Your Grace, you could not just let it be.”
She picked up the note which had been scrawled with quill and ink.
To Miss Balfour,
If you will not take this gift as one of gratitude, please accept it as a token of my affection for you and your inn. May the Archangel Michael look over you when I am unable.
Affectionately,
the Serpent
She unwrapped the item and gasped when she saw it. It was a locket attached to a golden chain. On the front of the locket was a beautiful rose in platinum and rose gold. She pushed the small button on the side to pop the locket open and smiled once more. Inside of it was a small portrait of the angel Michael. She took it out of the paper and rested it gingerly on her hands, tracing her fingers along the edges of the rose.
Zachariah was indeed one of a kind, and she understood that her life would never be the same for knowing him.
Chapter 26
“I do not know what to do with my son, if I am quite honest, Agnes,” the Duchess of Sandorne said with a heavy sigh as she sat beside the matchmaker, who was presenting the Duchess with a new, albeit small, selection of candidates for marriage.
“Not to worry, I have worked with many a stubborn young man. We will find the right one yet.”
“It is a shame about Lady Lavinia. She sounded like a wonderful match. Such shame upon the family…” She shook her head and beside her, the matchmaker winced. The unforeseen elopement of her client spread through the ton with such speed that the poor matchmaker had hardly the time to process the news herself.
“Yes, well. It was unfortunate and I am sure she will regret her choice to run away to Scotland. They always think it romantic to run away with a paramour. They then come to their senses, but it is too late.” As if wishing to change the subject as quickly as possible, she pulled out a card. “This one may well work. Lady Sophie of Travers. Her father is a mere viscount, but of considerable wealth and she’s a keen reader.”
Taking a sip of tea, the Duchess glanced at the card and then shook her head. “I am afraid he will turn down any woman we present to him. The boy has his head full of ideas that makes no sense to any rational thinking person. He is obsessed with the idea of opening a university. For women! He is addressing the House of Lords today about the matter. He will make a laughing stock out of the entire family. Soon enough, none of your candidate’s fathers will even look at him as a respectable choice.”
She leaned back and fanned herself with a white feather fan even though it was still early in the year.
“Do not fret just yet, Your Grace. We will speak to him when he returns this evening.”
The Duchess glanced at the clock then and gave a sigh. “He ought to be back any moment now. The House of Lords does not usually go quite so late. It is almost nine in the evening.”
With some irritation, she leaned back and enjoyed her tea while Miss Bagwell eagerly presented her with other options. With any luck, one of the options would please her son. One would have to. There was no direct heir, and she certainly did not want to have the estate fall into the hands of her drunkard brother-in-law. No. A woman had to be found. And at once.
“Your Grace!” The steward’s voice pieced the evening air and a moment later, Caleb Ridlington rushed into the drawing room, followed in short order by the coachman and the footman, all of whom looked harried and pale. She jumped from her chaise and strut toward them.
“What has happened, Mr. Ridlington? Why the alarm?”
“They’ve taken him! The Duke. We were on our way back from the House of Lords, just making our way out of London and toward Kent when they set upon us. Bandits!”
The Duchess gasped at this, her hand flying in front of her mouth.
“Where is His Grace? What has been done to him? Is he harmed?”
The steward’s eyes grew wild. “I do not know. I was sure we were fit to be murdered right there in the carriage, but they only blindfolded us and then let us go. I thought at first it was a bad attempt at a joke, to scare a noble as it were, but then… He is gone, Your Grace. Taken.”
She felt her legs grow weak beneath her and if Mr. Ridlington had not caught her at once, she would have fainted onto the magnificent marble floor.
“A brandy, quickly,” Caleb ordered the footman, who was still out of sorts from having been overpowered. The young man brought the drink with a shaking hand and Caleb took it, noting his own hand was no steadier.
“Here, Your Grace. Take a sip of this, it will restore you.” The older woman did as he requested and blinked at him.
“Who could have done such a thing?”
“I do not know, a rival in the sugar business? Someone unhappy with His Grace’s attempts at the university?” He shook his head. The question of who had taken his friend and why had occupied his mind the entire way back to Sandorne. Upon discovering his friend gone, he had at once directed the carriage toward London where the constables were alerted. They were scouring the city this very moment. He informed the Duchess of these developments and, her wits restored, she rose.
“I knew this business with the university was going to bring doom upon him. And sugar? Why go into a trade? It is so unbecoming of a Duke. Now we have it. Mr. Ridlington—ride out at once and alert the constables in the area. It is not enough that we should alert London of this matter. Quickly, go now. And you—” she turned to the coachman, “—confer with Thorpe. We must search the parameter of the estate to ensure we will not be set upon by these bandits as well.”
Caleb could not help but admire the woman’s strength. He could easily see where Zachariah got his strength and determination. The butler and coachman departed at once, their tasks assigned.
“I assure you, Your Grace, we will find him. Do not fret.”
She shook her head, her greying hair in a perfect bun, her gown without a hint of a wrinkle, and her eyes bright once more.
“I shall fret until my son and heir is returned. To think I only just bade the matchmaker farewell, trying to ensure Zachariah’s future…” She clasped Caleb by the hand. “Ride out now, find my son and return him here. Ask anyone you can think of. Offer a reward. Whatever it takes.”
She departed then toward the staircase, ordering a maid to bring more brandy to her chamber.
Caleb watched as she left, his heart still beating with the terror of the previous events. Then, as her words echoed in his mind, he realized just where he had to go.
He turned and rushed out of the house toward the stable. He would need a horse. Yes, a horse would take him where he needed to go—and at once.
Chapter 27
Melody stood outside the Gentle Rose Inn and peered down the path toward the forest. Another search party had set out to look for Obadiah Caney and they were due to return any time now. It had been weeks since the nasty fellow left his note on her bed and there’d been no more notes or threats. I wonder if he just gave up after all and scurried away.
“Melody?” Betsy called from within the inn. “We’re running out of eggs.”
She frowned and turned around. “Eggs? But I just bought them.”
Betsy stemmed her hands into her hips.
“I told you I needed more for the egg balls. Don’t you remember? I told you this morning when the fishmonger gave you the wonderful discount on the cod.”
Melody opened her mouth to protest as she could not recall any such conversation but then it came back to her. Yes. Of course. The fishmonger had offered her a large quantity of cod that morning for a large discount and Betsy, after first fretting over what to do with it, delighted in the idea of fish and egg balls.
“I will run to the market. I all but forgot about the eggs. What am I like?” She shook her head at her own forgetfulness.
“Been thinking about His Grace again?” Her friend winked at her and at once Melody’s hand traveled to her neck where the angel of protection Zachariah had given her was displayed.
“As it happens,
no. I was thinking about that dastardly Obadiah.”
Betsy pressed her lips together and shook her head as though she did not believe her.
“If you say so. I have a feeling we might be rid of that awful little man. Now. Eggs?”
She furrowed her forehead and Melody raised her hands as if to appease her friend.
“Yes, yes. At once. I will go.”
Satisfied, her friend turned and went back inside the inn to start working on her fish for dinner.
Desperately Inn Love with the Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 17
