If he wasn’t careful, she would discover his scheme, and she’d do all that she could to foil that ambition. She wasn’t playing at asking him to marry Lady Myrtle, she was deadly serious. He knew why she wanted Lady Myrtle as her daughter-in-law.
Myrtle hadn’t an ounce of steel in her, and therefore was pliable to the duchess’s every whim. She would do whatever his mother wanted her to do, and if she tried to rebel, his mother would outwit her at every corner.
Caroline, on the other hand, was a match for his mother. She would stand up to her and not bow down. He just had to make it quite clear to Caroline that when she married him, she would be on equal footing with the duchess, who at that point would be known formerly as the Dowager Duchess of Whitney.
His mother might put on haughty airs now, but he knew where his mother came from—and she hadn’t been the granddaughter of an earl. Though she’d almost entirely rid herself of her French accent, she’d been an actress before she’d married his father.
His father had seen her on stage in Paris after Lady Margaret had refused him, and in a fit of rebelliousness, he’d married the beautiful actress and brought her back to England with him. Once in England, he’d equipped her with the best language masters he could hire in an attempt to soften her accent, and enrich her knowledge of the King’s English as what she’d known of it had been quite rough.
Genevieve Desjardins beauty had rivaled that of most of the eligible young women in England so when his father returned from France with her as his new bride, most of the young bucks in his set envied him. His marriage to Genevieve had caused a bit of a fuss but the scandal had died down quite quickly as he was a duke and therefore forgiven most anything.
Those that envied him for marrying a French beauty like Genevieve didn’t know what a terror he had married, and would have gladly retracted their jealousy had they known what she was like behind closed doors.
Ambition had been her number one strategy when it came to catching herself an English Duke. She’d wanted to raise up through the ranks in England in a way that she could never do in France. For in England they quickly forgot about her questionable origins and she became the delightfully witty duchess.
His poor father hadn’t been prepared for such a hellion. He still recalled how dazed he used to look whenever Edward’s nanny brought him to see his father.
Defeat had shimmered in Hugh Rochester’s eyes. He’d known he was beat—he’d known that for the rest of his life, his wife would rule his world with an iron fist.
Gertrude sounded like his dear Mama, as much as he knew about how hellish his mother could be, he couldn’t help still loving her. She’d never been a mean mother to him—even though she’d been quite distant during his childhood. Whenever he did see her she had lavished him with love.
And though his mother had her redeeming qualities, he knew deep down in the very essence of his being that he could never marry a woman like her. Moreover, he knew he could not marry a woman she recommended he marry. Her seal of approval might be good enough for some within the haut ton, but it certainly wasn’t good enough for him.
He would throw her entire world off its axis and strangely enough, he felt a perverse sense of enjoyment when he imagined his mother’s flawless face scrunched up in disapproval. Yes, she could highly condemn Caroline and he would smile during her entire dramatic performance.
He could only pray that he would be given enough time to tutor Caroline on the best way to handle his pouty often mercurial mother.
It was no wonder that she wanted another fortune hunter to catch him in her net. After all, like usually stuck with like, and Genevieve wanted someone who would never be able to hold her past position in life against her. She wanted someone that didn’t have a sixpence to scratch with, and someone that was high in the instep for Myrtle might be as poor as a church mouse, you would never think she lacked for funds as she had quite a large sense of self-importance.
Some would say that Caroline would be on uneven ground when it came to Genevieve, and yet, he disagreed.
Caroline hailed from noble breeding. With an earl in her close family, and the fact that many still remembered her as the granddaughter of an earl, she had contacts within the ton that his mother hadn’t possessed thirty-five years ago.
Needlessly overthinking the subject would only rob him of the precious hours of sleep he needed. He had to be well rested in order to visit Caroline’s father in the morning and after that he had to be ready for a long day of travel.
“Well, darling Mama, you shan’t ruin my life the way you destroyed Papa’s. I am going to remain one step ahead of you in this game of cat and mouse until I rid myself completely of that wretched little fortune hunter.”
Chapter Four
Excitement bubbled inside of Caroline. Finally, after two years of the same old thing, she had something to look forward to!
The duke had stuck to his word. His man had arrived promptly after Gertrude had left, almost as if he’d been lying in wait.
Her father for his part, had been shocked to bits to receive an official emissary from the duke and she heard him nattering absentmindedly to himself after the man had left. Fortunately, Gertrude had left the carriage at Banbury House so her father didn’t have to walk to Whitney Park.
“Margaret,” she heard him say as she listened at his office door, “I pray this isn’t about what I fear it’s about. You promised me we would never have to fret about such things and yet, the new duke might not feel the same way that the Old Duke felt. I sorely miss your wise counsel at these pivotal junctures, my love. How I wish you could visit me and tell me what to do! I’m at a loss, my dear, I surely am!”
She cleared her throat and rapped hesitantly on the door. “Come in,” he said loudly. Hoping that her knocking had wrenched him out of his reverie, she cautiously opened the door.
“Papa? Whatever has you so vexed?”
His face was a bright shade of red. His grey hair was sticking up at all sorts of angles. He needed it smoothed down, and his cravat fixed before he even entertained going to see the duke. He looked like a madman in his current state of disarray.
“The duke has summoned me. I fear our lives are about to be completely uprooted, Caroline. Will you think badly of me if our lives are sent into turmoil? Gertrude will have my head on a silver platter, but you won’t think badly of me, will you? I couldn’t bear having you think ill of me.”
She couldn’t reason why he was so worried. Would he be relieved once he discovered the true reason behind why the duke wanted to meet with him?
Smiling reassuringly at him, she started smoothing his hair down with her fingers. After his hair looked presentable enough, she fixed his cravat, and attended to his rumpled jacket. He still looked like what he was—an eccentric older gentlemen, that didn’t really adhere to the fashions of the day. He had his own set of rules concerning clothing, dispensing with the frilly shirts and he didn’t care for waistcoats.
In a way, the duke reminded her a bit of her father except there was nothing eccentric about him. Although she knew he had to buck the conventions of the day. He didn’t look to her like he was a dandy. Instead, she saw him as being the epitome of masculinity and indeed the trousers and riding boots he’d worn hadn’t painted him as a dandy.
“Don’t worry, Papa, everything will be fine. As long as you’re back before Gertrude returns from her visit with Mrs. Thomas all will be well.”
“I don’t know what I’ll say to him to change his mind.”
His words befogged her. “You won’t have to change his mind about anything. I am quite certain you will be happy to hear what he has to say.”
“My darling daughter. You are so like your Mama in every way. Thank God, you took after her in looks and in disposition. You have her steely backbone and her wild stubborn streak. Her health might have been fragile at the end but her spirit was always strong. No matter what happens to you in life, just know that you are your mother’s daughter. You wi
ll always land on your feet.”
Happily she kissed his cheek. “It sounds as if the carriage has been brought round. You need to get bundled up and be on your way. The clock won’t stop for you and like I said, you must be back by the time Gertrude arrives.”
He started walking away from her and then halted. “You should come with me. Yes, that’s it that will do it. The duke never said in his missive that you couldn’t come—he only said he had to discuss a matter of great importance with me. So, my daughter, you shall come with me. If he’s in a foul temper your pretty face should soothe his soul, and he wouldn’t want to make a huge fuss in front of a lady like you. Yes, indeed, he’ll behave quite civilly in front of you. We shan’t have any trouble whatsoever.”
She didn’t doubt it. Edward would, however, be excessively astonished to see her. In fact, he’d be trying to discern why she was there.
“I don’t know if that would be appropriate. I don’t want to be a bother. I certainly don’t want to take advantage of his hospitality.”
“You are never a bother. You are the epitome of charm and grace. Pray, come with me, dearest. If you come with me, I’ll make sure you don’t have to see hide nor hair of Gertrude until we go to church on Sunday. I’ll let you hide in your room and dash away to see Fanny or Mrs. Finch whenever you want.”
“Truly, Papa?”
“Indeed,” he answered.
“In that case, I will accompany you.” She wanted to say no but he had a wild gleam in his eyes and she wondered if it would be safe to let him go on his own. No, she would have to go with him, and hope the duke wasn’t too astonished to see her.
“Besides, daughter, you will have to say goodbye to Whitney Park. Now that the duke is back in residence you won’t be able to visit the grounds. Unless of course, he invites you to—I shall ask him if he minds if you make use of the Folly during the day. I’ll tell him you’ve been doing it since your mother died and it comforts you immensely. As long as he’s not harried, and nothing is going to change, I can’t see any reason why he wouldn’t allow it. Come to think of it, perhaps he’ll revive his Father and Grandfather’s custom of having Christmas Parties! Oh, they were such gay events,” he said, sighing, at the fond memory.
She smiled as his infectious warmth spread throughout the room. She missed being this close to her father, if only he hadn’t married Gertrude.
He reached for her arm, and hooked his arm through hers. “I am not exactly dressed for being presented to the duke, Papa.”
She knew she was grasping, but she had to remove the silly notion of her father taking her to Whitney Park.
“You look fine, but you are correct, you should change into an afternoon dress. Put on that white light muslin that your aunt sent you. You know, the one with the cornflower pattern on it. You wear it with the sapphire blue velvet spencer that she also sent, and the matching bonnet will make you look quite fetching. That should fare you well enough. It’s a very mild day out there. That spencer and dress are by far the prettiest thing in your wardrobe, aside from the white evening gown she sent you last year. She does spoil you, and she would lavish you with more gifts if she thought I would allow it. Perhaps,” he stopped. “Mayhap, I’ve been remiss. Mayhap, I should have allowed her to take you under her wing, and let her take you from me. And maybe I should have let her buy you a full wardrobe the way she wanted to. I’ve held you back, Caroline. I’ve been so selfish. I’ve kept untold joys from you. I never should have stopped her kindness. Margaret used to allow it—she said that Georgia loved doing things for us. After your Mama died, I couldn’t bear to have you get too close to Georgia. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
She patted him on the hand. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Well, now that Gertrude is in our lives perhaps that is a bit of a lie. I can’t abide the woman. Give me a few minutes and I shall be ready, Papa. I’ll call for Sally to help me dress.” She smiled at him, and dashed away. “Sally,” she called, waiting for their maid to emerge from the kitchen.
“Yes, Miss Caroline?” Sally asked.
“I have to away to Whitney Park. Can you help me fix my hair and change my dress?”
Sally grinned. “’Course, I can, Miss. It would be my pleasure.”
Sally, like Caroline, was always in better spirits when Gertrude wasn’t around.
Today was going to go splendidly.
* * * * *
Edward paced the length of his massive Library. He couldn’t understand why Mr. Griffiths hadn’t arrived yet. Did he have to walk? He thought he would have a coach given his yearly income. While quite measly compared to what Edward commanded a year, Griffiths’ income should sustain him well enough to keep a carriage, for he knew that Griffiths owned a small estate in Wales that gave them their yearly income.
He knew his father had provided well for Margaret, gifting her with Banbury House and arranging for a yearly income for the family most of which made up the money that Benjamin Griffiths pulled in each year. The income had been quite generous giving him more a year than what his small Welsh estate pulled in.
The fact that Gertrude was making Caroline suffer so made him see red. Most of the money that Griffiths had was just as much Caroline’s as it was his. He had Margaret and her love for the Hugh Rochester to thank for everything. He should have confessed the entire truth of Margaret and Hugh’s relationship to Caroline. Alas, he had been unable to do it. He didn’t want to shatter the romanticism of the tale he’d told instead.
If Caroline knew the bitter truth, he wondered if she would still be willing to marry him. If it changed her mind he would not be able to bear it as thoughts of her had held his attention all of last night and most of the morning.
She was a beguiling creature, and she had wound her way into his heart rather quickly and rather forcefully. She had spirit unlike any other women he’d met. If Margaret was anything like Caroline, he knew his father had despised himself every single day of his life for acting like such a cad toward Margaret. Now, he could sympathize with him.
Finally, after years of attempting to figure his father out—he knew exactly why he’d been constantly morose and never could quite embrace his son. Edward knew his father had loved him. Despite that whenever his father had looked at him, he had looked at him with guarded eyes, haunted eyes. Almost as if he half hated his son for being the child of his wife—for being the singular reason why he had to marry Genevieve.
On his part, his half French ancestry had worked in his favour during the Wars and he’d used them to the benefit of his King and Country.
He supposed he should feel lucky that his mother had been able to persuade his father to do the right thing, and marry her. And had he not been born in his father’s image he knew his father would have continuously wondered if he were, in fact, a Rochester.
“Summon Mr. Fenton,” he said, turning to one of his footmen, as the doors were open to the Library.
“Yes, sir.” The footman hurried off.
He let out an impatient growl, and continued with his pacing, hands clasped behind his back.
“Your Grace, you wanted me?” Mr. Fenton, his Steward, stood nervously in the doorway to the Library.
“Come in here, man,” he growled.
Fenton did as he bid, and came to stand by the fireplace.
“Didn’t you tell that infernal man that I wanted to meet with him, posthaste?”
“I did as you asked, sir. I gave him the letter you had written and then told him that you wanted him at Whitney Park as quickly as possible—that you wanted him to meet you before luncheon today.”
“Apparently, that gentleman doesn’t know how to follow instructions to the letter,” he sighed heavily. If he didn’t have this matter concerning Caroline settled soon he was going to go out of his mind. He wanted her so badly. He had to make it official. He had to know she was his to have!
Blast and damn, his future father-in-law was a complete and utter vexation!
* * * * *
&
nbsp; Caroline’s heart was as light as air. She descended the staircase of Banbury House as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
“Papa, I am ready to go.”
He emerged from his office with his hair once again mussed up. He looked as if he’d been pacing again.
“Papa, you mustn’t look so furtive. You look as if you’re going to the hangman’s noose.”
“I feel as if I’m going there, my dear. I shudder to think of what the duke has in mind for me. Pray, whatever he says, you mustn’t think ill of me and most importantly you should not have a dim view on your mother, do you understand?”
Dazed with confusion, she nodded her head. With those few words, her contented mood had evaporated.
“I don’t understand, Papa. What are you on about? Are you having another one of your turns?”
He shook his head. “No, Caroline. I must confess I don’t know why you think I’m so fragile minded. Why I’m just as sane as any other man.”
Sighing, she walked to the front door. “Come, Papa. We’ve made the duke wait long enough for us. If we’re not off soon, Gertrude will return and foil our outing completely!”
Nodding his head, he reached for his hat and walking stick. “Quite right, my dear, quite right.”
The drive to Whitney Park was a short one. Her father alighted first and then reached back inside to assist her.
The doors to Whitney Park flew open and footmen surrounded them. Her father gave one of them a cross look when they made to interfere with him assisting her down from the carriage.
She stepped down and smiled at her father. Seconds later, she was once again face to face with Edward. He looked quite flabbergasted to see her.
The agitated expression he wore faded quickly enough. He looked ready to speak when her father beat him to it.
“Your Grace, I’m ever so sorry but I simply had to bring my daughter, Miss Caroline Griffiths.”
His Christmas Nymph Page 4
