The Reclusive Duke

by Fenella J Miller

  Lydia scrambled out of bed and ran to the window. Sure enough all four children were there throwing sticks and the dog was fetching them back. Each time he returned he sat by the person who had thrown it and dropped it politely at their feet. It didn't matter whether it was one of the little ones or Emma or Richard. He was as polite and gentle with all of them.

  She had never seen them so happy and, despite his size, she hoped no one would claim him and they could keep him for their own. It was possible he was one of several dogs kept in the kennels at Hemingford Court and the kennelmaster could be persuaded to let him stay. After all, being at the Dower House was almost the same as being at Hemingford Court.

  *

  The first thing that Everett asked was if Benji had returned. The response was negative and he sent for the man most likely to give him a sensible answer. The other two hounds appeared unbothered by the absence of the younger dog. If he was honest, the older dogs had never really taken to this new addition to his canine circle.

  Once he was dressed he demanded to be pushed to the kennels where he could speak to the man in charge. The journey across the cobbled yard was uncomfortable and several times he feared he would be tipped out, much to the amusement of those who happened to be in the vicinity. Word of his coming had spread ahead and the man he wanted to speak to emerged and immediately doffed his cap.

  'Well, man, have you no news for me? It's not like Benji to stay away so long.'

  The kennelmaster, who was shuffling nervously from foot to foot, cleared his throat before answering. 'I've got a dozen men looking for him, your grace. They will find him soon enough and bring him back.'

  'I think it possible he followed the children. I didn't get a clear look at them, but one was a girl, the other a smaller boy. They were urchins from the village I expect, it shouldn't be hard to find them. If he is with them, then just reclaim him. There's no need for anything further to be done.'

  'And if he's been taken by an adult?'

  'Then you know what to do. I'll have no thievery on my land.' He twisted his head so he could speak to Bates. 'Now we are out here, do think you could push me to the stud? It's been too long since I visited.'

  'I'll give it a go, your grace, but I'm not sure this old thing will hold together if we go over any more cobbles and such.'

  'Then take me back to the terrace.'

  The following day the dog had still not been located and Everett was becoming more concerned as the hours passed. The reason his men hadn't found Benji must be because the dog was no longer in the neighbourhood. The animal was valuable and whoever had got him would be thinking himself fortunate. He'd not be so happy when he was apprehended – and he would be eventually, however long it took.

  He was not renowned for his good humour and today he was even more irascible, and less than delighted when the butler announced that he had visitors.

  'Tell them to go to the devil, I will see no one.'

  Frobisher went to deliver this message leaving him to his black thoughts. He should be more sanguine, his leg was healing well, the weather was fine and he was outside enjoying the fresh air. For the first time in five years he was without pain – surely that should be enough to raise his spirits?

  He straightened in the bath chair. There was the sound of scuffling on the other side of the terrace wall. Before he had time to summon assistance, two children and their nursemaid arrived at his side.

  The boy bowed, the girl and the nursemaid curtsied.

  'I beg your pardon for disturbing you, your grace, but as your butler would not allow us to come in we have been obliged to find another way speak to you.'

  His eyes widened. This was no nursemaid, but a well-bred young lady. The children looked vaguely familiar as if he had met them somewhere before.

  'We are ever so sorry, your grace, but your dog followed us. We tried to bring him back to you but when we got near he ran off.' The girl dipped again, her face was pale, and she was clutching the hand of the young woman.

  He was on the point of apologising for his ill humour when the young lady spoke again. 'My niece and nephew have come of their own volition to return your dog, your grace. I do not see the need for you to glare at them.'

  The children moved smartly behind their aunt, as well they might. Nobody spoke to him so impertinently.

  Then what had been said previously finally registered. 'Devil take it! You are the brats I've inherited. What are you doing here?'

  The boy was emboldened to step out from behind his aunt. 'We told you, sir, we have come to try and return your dog.'

  He shook his head. 'No, why are you in this neighbourhood?'

  'We arrived a while ago, your grace, and Mr Digby settled us in the Dower House. We are very comfortable there, thank you very much.'

  The girl appeared. 'We much prefer it there, your grace, and have no wish to live with you.'

  They were interrupted by the arrival of Bates. 'Begging your pardon, your grace, but your dog has been seen halfway down the drive. If anyone approaches he vanishes into the woods.'

  'We told you, sir, we tried to bring him back but he just won't come.' The girl moved away from the protection of her aunt and came to stand trustingly beside him. 'We got lost in your woods the other day and he took us home. The twins love him and so do we.'

  'Your grace, I believe your hound has formed an attachment to the children and unless you keep him chained up he will constantly come back to them. Would you consider allowing him to live with us? After all, he would still be on your property, would he not?'

  The two youngsters were staring at him imploringly; now he understood why they looked familiar. They were the urchins he'd seen the other day. When he had told Digby to take care of the matter of his unwanted wards he'd no idea the man intended to put them in the Dower House – but too late to repine. As long as they remained there, he was satisfied with the arrangement.

  'Your names, if you please.'

  The girl curtsied. 'I'm Emma; I am ten years of age and this is my brother Richard and he is eight. The twins, Charlotte and David, are at home and they will celebrate their fourth name day next month.'

  The young woman nodded in his direction. 'I am their aunt; my name is Lydia Sinclair. My nieces and nephews have been in my charge for the past four years. I have a letter from my sister and her husband making me responsible for them in the event of their death.'

  *

  For a gentleman who apparently suffered from ill health the duke appeared remarkably robust despite being confined to a chair with wheels. She waited politely for him to respond to the startling announcement that she had been given control over her nieces and nephews.

  'As I have no wish to involve myself in their upbringing, Miss Sinclair, you have my permission to continue to act as their guardian and mentor. I am more concerned, however, about the absence of my favourite hound.'

  The children exchanged glances and then Emma left the sanctuary of her skirts and went to stand beside him. She spoke slowly and clearly as if conversing with a simpleton.

  'Your grace, your dog is hiding in the woods. Your dog does not want to come back. We cannot get your dog to…'

  'Enough of your prattling, child.'

  Unfortunately, Lydia attracted his attention by her smothered snigger. He was obviously not accustomed to being laughed at. She watched him take a deep breath and force his mouth into a resemblance of a smile.

  'Girl, take that bell and ring it loudly in the doorway.'

  Obediently Emma did as he requested and the summons was answered immediately by a flustered looking footman.

  'I take it you've had no success reclaiming my dog?'

  'No, your grace, he's still hiding somewhere.'

  'Then you must wheel me around and let me call him. I'm certain he will come to me.'

  She should have remained silent but couldn't prevent the words from popping out. 'I beg your pardon, your grace, but I believe you are not quite grasping the point. The dog wishes
to remain with the children. He would be at your side now, would he not, if he wished to be?'

  His eyes narrowed and his mouth became a hard line. She swallowed the lump in her throat but refused to apologise. She had done nothing wrong – she was merely being helpful.

  'I suggest that you remain silent, unless you have something pertinent to say.'

  She was about to respond to his less than polite comment, but thought better of it. It would not be a sound notion to anger him further as he held their destiny in his hands. Instead she lowered her gaze and curtsied politely.

  Both Emma and Richard were standing behind her – they too must think the duke a formidable character. She risked a quick look in his direction. It appeared he had already forgotten they were there as his harassed attendant was wheeling him in through the double doors back into the house.

  'Do you think that our dog will go back to him if he calls?' Emma asked anxiously.

  'I very much hope not, my dear, I would like to see his grace put soundly in his place.'

  'If I was a dog I wouldn't want to live here; I don't like the duke, he's fierce and bad-tempered,' Richard said as he skipped ahead down the terrace steps.

  'Look, Aunt Lydia, I can see our dog lying down under the shrubbery over there. I hope he doesn't rush across to join us as someone from the duke's staff will surely catch him and take him away.'

  She saw where Emma was pointing. 'Yes, I can see him. I can also hear his grace arriving in his contraption. I think we had better make ourselves scarce.'

  She took them back onto the terrace so they could, if they crouched down, peer over the top of the wall without being seen by either the dog or his true owner.

  They had only just got settled when three men and the duke, plus his attendant, arrived on the drive. Although she was expecting him to shout she was unprepared for the loudness of his voice when he did call for his animal. At least they now knew the dog was called Benji – indeed, she was quite sure that anyone within miles of this location would be equally aware of this fact.

  She held her breath. The dog remained where he was and she sighed. 'I don't think he's going to come however much he's called. We should go home now. I don't think we will be very popular after what we have just witnessed.'

  'If we go back the way we came he will see us, Aunt Lydia,' Richard said.

  'Then we must lurk here until we see him come in and then make our escape. Benji will no doubt follow us when we walk past. We have done our duty; his grace knows where his animal is. If he cares to send his men to attempt to capture him then we shall not get in their way.' The children looked dubious. 'I said attempt to capture him, my dears, I am certain they would be unsuccessful.'

  After a few more shouts, each one more furious than the previous, the duke abandoned his quest to bring the dog to his side. In fact, Benji was no longer in the bushes.

  Richard was keeping watch and waved his hand frantically to indicate it was time to make a rapid departure. Lydia picked up her skirts, and with the children laughing beside her she took the steps two at a time. They raced across the grass, not stopping until they reached the safety of the trees.

  She was still recovering her breath when the dog joined them. From his frantic tail wagging it was quite clear he approved of their arrival. Richard and Emma threw their arms around his neck.

  'Good, Benji, good boy. You shall come home with us and have a big bone from the kitchen for being so clever.' She had never seen her nephew look so happy and was determined, whatever it took, that Benji would remain at the Dower House.

  Chapter Five

  Everett was fuming. 'Take as many men as necessary and bring that dog back here. Not today, go first thing tomorrow when the house is asleep. He will be locked in an outbuilding somewhere and easy to capture.'

  The kennelman touched his cap and nodded. 'We can get him right enough, your grace, but as soon as we let him out he will be back there again. I have seen it happen before. Once a hound has made up his mind, there's no changing it.'

  He waved the man away. What he said made sense – it was exactly the same thing as that wretched girl had said earlier. The sensible thing would be to agree that his dog could live with the children, but he wasn't prepared to give him up so easily.

  He would send for Digby. The man had his office somewhere in the building so shouldn't be too hard to track down. 'Bates, take me to my study. Then fetch my lawyer. Have coffee brought to us when he arrives.'

  The desk was too high for him to use when sitting in the bath chair. It was high time he resumed his duties as head of this household. This could not be achieved whilst he languished like an invalid. The doctor had told him it would be permissible to start using crutches at the end of the week so it could hardly do him any harm if he transferred himself to a chair.

  This was accomplished easily. Once sitting in his accustomed place he forgot his annoyance about the dog, the children and their aunt, and turned his mind to more important matters. He wanted to know what had been going on and had expected to find a pile of unopened correspondence for him to deal with. However, his desk was clear.

  Then he recalled he had handed over the reins to Digby. He trusted his man implicitly and was certain nothing untoward had taken place in his absence. In fact, he had never felt so invigorated in his life before – even in the halcyon days when he had had no responsibilities and his older brother and parents had been alive.

  The footman carrying the tray arrived at same time as his man of business. Everett was delighted to see Digby had brought his secretary with him and the young man was carrying a large wooden box full of documents and papers.

  'Good afternoon, your grace, I cannot tell you how delighted I am to see you up and about.' His secretary placed the box on the desktop and then Digby waved him away.

  Both the tray and the box were on the desk, but there was still sufficient room between them to dance a jig if one was so disposed. His lips twitched at the thought that possibly he would be able to so if his recovery continued.

  'Would you be so kind as to pour the coffee, Digby?'

  When his lawyer was comfortably seated opposite him the conversation began. 'I called you here about a trivial thing which is no longer of interest to me. I wish to go through any matters of importance that occurred in my absence from this desk.'

  'There is nothing particular to report to you, your grace, everything has been running smoothly as always. The new tenant at Glebe Farm is proving satisfactory and there have been no reports of vagrants or ex-soldiers encroaching on your land as there have in other neighbourhoods.'

  They discussed a variety of things before Digby returned to the original reason he had been summoned. He peered at Everett over the rim of his coffee cup. 'I understand you have met Miss Sinclair and two of your wards. A delightful young lady, and her nieces and nephews are a credit to her. However, your grace, I do not feel it… I wonder if…'

  'What is it, man? Do not procrastinate.'

  'Miss Sinclair has never had the opportunity to mix in society as she has been looking after those children since she was just out of the schoolroom. Although I believe she intends to appoint a governess to take care of their education, the children are running wild at the moment.'

  Everett frowned. This was a contradiction. 'I do not see how she can be taking care of the children as she should if they are running wild.'

  'The oldest can read and write, even the little ones, who are scarcely out of leading strings, can recite the alphabet and count to ten. The two older children are well versed in world geography, botany and science, can paint and draw and are proficient at the pianoforte – at least Miss Emma is. I'm not exactly clear if they are as good at mathematics as they are at the other subjects.'

  'I find that quite extraordinary. If they have no formal lessons, how the devil are they so well educated?'

  'That is a conundrum indeed, your grace. Perhaps when you are mobile again you might visit and discover for yourself?'
r />   'I have every intention of doing so, Digby, and you cannot inveigle me into having them here. The girl was quite clear on that point. They have as little wish to reside here as I have to accommodate them. However, they have acquired my best hound and I want him returned. It was on that matter that I originally summoned you.'

  'If I might be so bold as to make a suggestion, your grace? Why not suggest that they bring him over every day to visit you so you may see that he is flourishing? You might also observe for yourself how the children are doing.'

  'I was going to send a body of men over tomorrow to capture the animal but on further reflection I believe that would be a wasted effort. I find I can move more freely now and believe I could climb into a gig and drive myself for a visit in a day or two.'

  Digby smiled – a rare occurrence and immediately it roused suspicions. Was there something more to this than he understood?

  *

  Lydia half-expected a visitation the following day to try and force the dog to return, but no one appeared from the big house. The children were overjoyed and quite convinced Benji was now their property. She wasn't so sanguine and felt the matter would not be settled so easily.

  Digby had contacted a superior agency in London that supplied domestic staff, governesses and tutors for the best families in the country. She was now in possession of a handful of applications, four of which seemed a possibility to take charge of the education of her family. Her intention was to invite them down in turn to meet the children. She would not appoint anyone they did not like.

  There were still no riding horses in the stable, but she was hoping to rectify that matter once she had dealt with the governess issue. Until then they must make do with the cob.

  She had corralled Emma and Richard and they had spent a productive few hours at their schoolbooks. They now had left to roam about with the dog, the twins and the nursemaid in tow. They had strict instructions to go nowhere near the big house.