The Reclusive Duke

by Fenella J Miller

  'You are fishing for compliments, my dear, I told you how lovely you look and I stand by that opinion. However, as you so rightly pointed out, there are several less broad-minded matrons who disagree with my opinion. It is better not to upset them further.'

  'Then I shall have to ask for the carriage to return me home. I shall be sorry to leave, I was rather looking forward to my supper. Mr Digby tells me you have a French chef employed here.'

  'You will not go home. That is not what I meant at all. Do you play cards?'

  She looked somewhat surprised by his abrupt question, but rallied. 'I do indeed, sir, but do not gamble.'

  'Then we shall be partners in a game or two of Whist. Your slippers will soon dry and will not be visible when you are sitting at a card table. I can assure you that nobody will be aware of your wild behaviour.'

  'Wild? That is hardly a polite comment, your grace.' She laughed and came with him willingly. Then she squeezed his arm. 'Forgive me for asking, but is your leg troubling you?'

  He was about to deny this but something made him speak the truth. 'I have rather overexerted myself this evening. Thank you for your concern, my dear, it is much appreciated. Is that why you refused to dance?'

  'It is, I don't give a fig for what others say of me. If I had thought you able I should have insisted on dancing. No, do not poker up at me, you must not take offence because I have mentioned your infirmity. Good heavens, a view weeks ago you were unable to get about at all and look at you now?'

  He smiled ruefully. 'Look at me indeed, my dear. A sorry specimen who cannot fulfil his promise to dance with his partner.'

  'You are not a sorry anything. You are a handsome gentleman, in his prime, and no doubt the most eligible parti in the kingdom.' Her smile made something strange happen to his stomach. 'Fear not, I have no designs on you. In fact, you are safer with me than with any other young lady present. I have no intention of marrying however eligible the gentleman might be – do you wish me to tell you my darkest secret?'

  He was so stunned by her compliment he could not form a coherent answer and merely nodded.

  'I am a writer, I have just completed my first novel.'

  *

  If she had announced she was a devil worshipper, he could not have looked more horrified. 'Do you have an aversion to novelists, your grace? I can assure you that apart from having a prodigious amount of ink upon my fingers most of the time, I'm perfectly normal.'

  'I have heard young ladies speak of wishing to write a book, but one that has actually done this is something else again.' The tension in his arm relaxed and he nodded and smiled benevolently. 'If scribbling away in secret is what makes you happy, my dear, then who am I to cavil? It's not as though you intend to have your work seen by the general public.'

  She was about to contradict his statement, but thought better of it. It was none of his business if she had her book published or not – but it might be wiser to use a nom de plume and not her own name in order to avoid unnecessary confrontation.

  'I'm sure you would consider it romantic nonsense, your grace, far below your notice. I do not enjoy painting watercolours or embroidery, so write instead. Of course, I have my music as well to occupy my time, when I am not running the house or organising the lives of the four children in my care.'

  'How old are you?'

  This abrupt question took her back; she was tempted to give him a fallacious reply. 'I will be three and twenty on my next name day in May. Why do you ask? I thought it considered indelicate to ask a lady's age. How old are you?' She made her question as abrupt as his and waited for him to scowl at her.

  Instead he chuckled. 'Hoist by own petard, my dear. I shall be three and thirty my next name day, it too is in May. I know you say you have no wish to be married, but you are too young to be kept cloistered in the country with only a governess for company.'

  'Viola is as well-bred as I am. She has to work for her living because her mama died, her father remarried and her stepmother told her to leave. I consider her as a dear friend and not just an employee.'

  'I apologise if I have caused offence, I'm not criticising. Indeed, my physician appears to be taken with her so maybe you will not have her in your employ for as long as you hope.' He picked up a pack of cards and raised an eyebrow.

  'Now, are we to play cards or not? There has been more than enough chit-chat for one night, in my opinion.'

  They played for an hour and honours were even at the end of it. 'My slippers are quite dry, it will be safe for me to venture from here.'

  'Excellent. They are to play a waltz as the supper dance and I intend that you shall stand up with me for that.'

  He appeared to have quite forgotten her saying she would only dance on the terrace and not in public and it was too late to argue. He whisked her from the card room, across the spacious entrance hall and into the ballroom before she had time to draw breath.

  As they arrived the musicians played the opening chords of the dance. The other couples stepped aside to allow him to lead her out and she wished the boards would open up and swallow her.

  'This is intolerable, your grace, I shall make a sad mull of it and both your reputation and mine will be in tatters.'

  'Follow my lead, my dear, and you shall not go wrong. Surely you are aware that someone as important as myself can do no wrong?'

  Despite her reservations, after the first few bars she began to enjoy the experience of being held in a gentleman's arms – especially one as tall and commanding as the duke. She could hardly credit that a few days ago he had been hopping around on crutches as he was as graceful and sure-footed as any other gentleman present.

  He guided her around the floor with expertise and she relaxed into his embrace. 'I thought you said that you were an indifferent dancer, your grace, that is a Banbury tale and well you know it.'

  'I always considered myself a poor dancer, but then I had not danced with you until tonight.' She was disappointed when the final chords were played and the couples bowed and curtsied to each other. He had his arm loosely around her waist and his fingertips brushing against her made her feel flustered and overheated.

  He nodded towards a small table in the music room set out for supper – it was laid for two. 'See, we shall not have to scramble for our food as lesser mortals do.'

  She was uncertain how to respond to this remark, so ignored it. She had become increasingly aware there were several tabbies scowling at her for monopolising the duke. This would not do.

  'Thank you for dancing with me, but I think you would be advised to sit elsewhere for supper as you have already spent far too much time with me.'

  She slipped her arm from his, smiled politely and almost ran to the stairs. The ladies' restroom was up there; she could spend half an hour or more repairing her appearance without garnering too much comment. Hopefully, when she returned to the fray she could find herself a less conspicuous place to sit.

  As she reached the hall there was a hideous howling coming from the park which made her stop. Benji was making it very plain he wished her to come out and join him. She needed no further excuse to return home. She wouldn't bother to call for the carriage, but walk the mile with the dog as company.

  There was more than enough light from the full moon to make this easy. She returned to the restroom and found her slipper bag. It was the work of moments to exchange her dancing slippers for the sturdier versions she had travelled in.

  *

  Benji joined her when she was fifty yards from the house and frolicked around her eager to demonstrate his pleasure in her appearance.

  'Be still, you silly dog, you have caused more than enough upset for one night.'

  An evening gown was not well-suited to a walk through the woods as the flimsy material was likely to get snagged on the brambles and branches. Therefore, she decided to take the track that vehicles used. The weather was warm, the moonlight sufficient for her to see, the only risk she was taking was that of spoiling the hem of her gown.
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  The hound trotted along beside her and obviously had no intention of dashing off to investigate the interesting noises that came from the shrubbery on either side the path. She was holding the skirt of her gown in either hand in the vain hope that it would suffer no damage from her evening stroll.

  The sound of the orchestra travelled through the night and was a welcome accompaniment to her walk. In her eagerness to leave she realised she had forgotten to send a message to Viola. Her friend would no doubt be looking for her and when she was not to be found anywhere on the premises might well set up a search party.

  If this was done, then inevitably the duke would wish to be part of that group. Lydia was concerned he had already overused his recently repaired leg and she had no wish for him to do himself permanent harm on her behalf.

  With a sigh of exasperation, she spoke out loud to the dog. 'Benji, I fear I must go back and find someone to take a message to Viola. It is most vexatious, but I have no option. Are you going to accompany me?'

  The dog sat down in the middle of the track, his long tail swishing the dirt from side to side. He showed no inclination to come with her and she supposed he intended to wait where he was for her return.

  She was certain she had not been gone more than twenty minutes and with luck could get word to her friend before she became anxious. Unfortunately, she met no lurking footman on her return journey which meant she would be obliged to make her way around to the terrace. She had no intention of entering the main reception rooms as her appearance would no longer pass muster. She had caused more than enough excitement tonight just by wearing a gown of emerald green when all the other unmarried young ladies wore pastel shades or white.

  'Where the devil have you been?' The duke barked from just above her and she was so startled she put her foot through her gown and fell in an undignified heap to the ground. She wasn't sure if she was more upset by his appalling language or by the fact that she had twisted her ankle.

  Then he was beside her. 'I beg your pardon, sweetheart, I should not have yelled like that. Take my hand, and let me help you up.'

  'I fear I have twisted my ankle, your grace, and cannot easily stand.'

  'Put your arm around my neck and I will carry you.'

  'I'll do no such thing; I'm perfectly capable of making my way to my carriage if you would be so good as to lend me your arm.'

  He offered his hand and she took it but couldn't restrain a yelp of pain as she straightened. Before either of them could react Benji hurled himself at the duke, growling ferociously, sending them both to the ground again.

  She was terrified the animal would savage him believing he was the cause of her distress. She need not have worried on the duke's behalf.

  'Get off, stupid animal, you are making matters worse.'

  The growling stopped and the dog sat down with them on the grass presumably thinking this was a fine game that he would play too.

  'We cannot remain here indefinitely, but I fear we are going to need assistance if we are both to regain our feet without further injury.'

  'I believe I can hear someone on the terrace. I shall call out – I know your voice is far louder, your grace, but it will be less shocking if I do so.' She was trying to keep the mood light, to not dwell on why he could not get himself to his feet without aid. She had landed painfully on her injured ankle and was certain she would not be able to walk at all even with an arm to lean on.

  To her relief, he laughed. 'Whoever is up there, we are in need of your help.' His voice carried wonderfully well and would no doubt be heard by everyone in the ballroom.

  It was Viola who replied. 'I have been looking for you this age, Lydia. Doctor Adams is with me and we are coming at once to your side.'

  The duke explained how they came to be in this predicament and she was delighted to see him able to stand upright once he had been hauled to his feet.

  'Miss Sinclair, let me examine your ankle before I attempt to move you,' the doctor said.

  'I should much prefer to go home and have my ankle seen to there. I have sprained it before now, a cold compress is all I need. There's no need…'

  'I'll brook no argument, young lady, you will allow my physician to attend to you, there's a good girl.' The duke turned to Viola. 'Miss Carstairs, if you would be so kind as to find a servant and have them bring around your carriage. The doctor can carry Miss Sinclair to it once he has established there's no serious damage.'

  When the doctor had done so he sat back. 'You are right, nothing broken. However, it is a bad sprain and you will need to keep it elevated for several days.'

  'Thank you, I will certainly do that.'

  He picked her up with no difficulty and carried her around to the turning circle where by some miracle the carriage was already waiting.

  'There's no need for you to return with me, Viola, I have no wish to spoil your evening too.'

  Chapter Twelve

  'Good heavens, Lydia, I've no intention of remaining here without you.' Miss Carstairs stepped nimbly into the carriage and a waiting footman put up the steps and closed the door.

  Everett would have liked to go with them but thought better of it. No doubt there would already be gossip and speculation about his interest in Miss Sinclair and he had no wish to add fuel to the fire.

  He turned abruptly to the doctor who was standing beside him. 'Go on man, don't stand there gawping. You must go with Miss Sinclair and attend to her ankle. The carriage will bring you back when you are done.'

  The doctor decided not to argue – which was wise – but as the vehicle was already in motion he had no option but to swing onto the back step and cling on like a servant. Then Everett noticed Benji had joined the cavalcade and was trotting along beside the carriage. He couldn't prevent his chuckle.

  He had always considered himself a sensible and staid individual, but tonight he had behaved quite out of character. God knows what the doctor thought of him – but he cared little for that as long as Miss Sinclair was taken care of.

  His inclination was to retreat to his study and let the party continue without him but this would cause even more comment. His leg ached like the very devil and he would make this an excuse to sit somewhere quietly for the remainder of the evening.

  Eventually the final tune was played, the last hand of cards completed and his guests were ready to depart. He was congratulated on a splendid evening and cordially invited to visit with his neighbours whenever he was in the vicinity.

  He left his staff to put matters right downstairs and made his slow and painful way to his apartment. Tonight, he was glad of his valet's attentions as he doubted he could have disrobed himself.

  'You look done in, your grace, forgive me for saying so. You need to rest tomorrow.'

  'I certainly do. Please don't disturb me in the morning I shall ring when I need you.'

  The house settled into silence and Everett tried to relax. However, his mind was racing and full of thoughts and most of them involved the infuriating, but delectable, Miss Sinclair.

  He had intended to find her a suitable husband but this no longer appealed to him as a solution. The thought of her in bed with another man made his stomach lurch unpleasantly. She had no wish to marry and he would not encourage her to do so – he would be content to have her living with the children and the governess in the Dower House as long as there were no gentleman callers.

  He flexed his injured leg and was pleased it responded without too much pain. He would ride over tomorrow and see how the patient did, it would be uncivil not to do so. As he was drifting off to sleep something most disturbing occurred to him.

  As far as he was aware Adams had not returned with the carriage – and this could mean the injury was far worse than first thought and he had remained at the patient's side to minister. Everett was now wide awake again. He would not be able to settle until he discovered for himself that all was well.

  He reached out his hand to ring for his valet and then decided it would be unfair to ro
use the man from his slumbers. His leg no longer hurt as much as it had before, he would find something to wear and ride over to see nothing untoward had taken place.

  He was dressed and on his way downstairs, candlestick held aloft, less than two hours since he had retired. To his astonishment the chaos he had left downstairs was no more and the house had returned to its normal pristine cleanliness.

  The side door was the easiest to unbolt and he had no need to use the candle once he was outside. The moon was bright, the evening warm, he could manage without additional illumination.

  Unlike many of his peers, he preferred his horses to live outside as nature intended during the summer months. The grooms brought in those that would be needed at dawn each day. This meant there would be an empty stable yard and he must catch himself a mount from the home paddock.

  He snatched up a bridle and made his way quietly to the fence and whistled. Immediately there was movement and sound of a horse cantering towards him. His stallion always came when he called.

  'Othello, we are going on an adventure together. Hold still whilst I put on your bridle and then I shall use the fence as a mounting block.'

  The horse was unbothered by his unusual behaviour. Everett prayed he would be able to ride bareback after so long. The last thing he needed was to take a tumble.

  He untied the gate and led the horse through before swinging onto its back. It had been years since he had ridden without a saddle, but one didn't forget this sort of skill. He clicked his tongue and his mount moved away smoothly and soon they were cantering along the path that led to the Dower House.

  *

  Richard was woken up by Benji scratching at the bedroom door. He crept out of bed and slipped into his sister's room in order to wake her but not the twins who were sleeping soundly in the big bed. 'Benji wants us. Are you coming?'

  He didn't bother to find his slippers and neither did she – together, in their nightclothes, they crept to the door and slowly opened it expecting the dog to rush in and flatten them as he frequently did.