The Duke's Secret Heir

by Sarah Mallory

  Georgie reached across and touched her hand. ‘But you tried to find him, Ellen, did you not? Does he know that?’

  ‘Yes, but looking back, perhaps I could have done more.’ Ellen waved her hand, as if to brush away the heavy shadow of regret. ‘Pray do not look so anxious. I have no doubt we shall be as happy as many arranged marriages.’

  Ellen prayed Georgiana would say no more. She knew her composure would not stand close scrutiny. Thankfully the next question was easier to answer.

  ‘And how is Max getting along with his son?’

  ‘They are firm friends now.’ Ellen’s smile became genuine. ‘Even though Jamie continues to call him Duke rather than Papa! But Max does not seem to mind.’

  As if conjured by their discussions, the Duke appeared, striding over the lawns towards them. He was wearing his riding jacket, buckskins and top boots, as if he had come directly from the stables, and walking with the loose, easy stride of an athlete. As always, Ellen’s heart leapt at the sight of him.

  ‘I heard you were come, Georgiana,’ he said. ‘How do you go on?’

  Ellen watched him lift Georgie’s hand to his lips, saw the way his smile warmed his eyes as he spoke and felt the knife twisting in her heart, although she was careful to betray no sign of it when she was drawn back into the conversation. Max remained with them until Georgiana declared it was time to take Lottie home and they all made their way to the waiting carriage.

  As they approached, Tony Grisham came trotting along the drive on his bay mare. He would have ridden on if Max had not called him over to be introduced. As he brought his horse to a stand and jumped down, Ellen noted with pleasure that Georgiana showed no embarrassment at meeting the steward. Tony, too, was at his ease, dropping down to speak to Lottie, laughing as she patted his empty sleeve and explaining that he had been a soldier, like her father.

  ‘Oh, did you know Frederick, Mr Grisham?’ asked Georgie, her face lighting up.

  ‘I did indeed.’ Tony stood straight, smiling. ‘He was a fine man. I was very sorry to hear he was so ill.’

  Ellen watched them as they conversed, seeing the colour come and go from Georgie’s smooth cheek, hearing the warmth in Tony’s voice as he talked of his army days.

  ‘I must not keep Mama-in-Law’s horses standing any longer,’ said Georgie at last. ‘She will be wondering what has become of me.’

  ‘And I must take my mare to the stables,’ said Tony. ‘I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Mrs Arncliffe.’

  With a nod and a smile, he went off. Ellen watched him walk away, a thoughtful crease in her brow. A word from Max recalled her attention and she saw Georgie and Lottie were now seated in the carriage and ready to leave. Dutifully, Ellen stood with Max, Jamie jumping up and down between them as they waved goodbye to their guests.

  We must look like the perfect little family.

  The thought brought a sudden choking lump to Ellen’s throat and for a moment her vision blurred. She blinked away a threatening tear. She must hold on to her smile for a few moments longer, until Max walked away. It could not be long.

  But this time he did not leave. Ellen heard a cough behind her. Matlock was waiting to take Jamie upstairs to change out of his muddied nankeens.

  As Ellen turned to follow them indoors Max said, ‘Are you busy? Do you have time to come with me to the stables?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Hiding her surprise, she fell into step beside him. He walked with his hands clasped behind his back, keeping a distance between them.

  ‘It is looking much better since you asked Joshua to tidy up,’ remarked Max, nodding towards the stable block.

  ‘I did not actually ask him.’

  ‘No.’ Max flashed her a quick grin. ‘Stevens says you...er...turned him up sweet. Whatever you did I am grateful. The trouble is, Joshua put me on my first pony and therefore has never taken anything I say seriously. He merely nods when I tell him to do something, then ignores me. He knows perfectly well that I would never turn him off.’

  ‘It is always the same with old retainers, I believe.’

  They walked through the arched entrance and she saw Max’s groom walking a very small, brown pony around the yard.

  ‘Tony Grisham heard the Allendales’ children had outgrown this little fellow and thought he might do for James,’ said Max as Stevens brought the pony to a stand before them. ‘We went to see him today and brought him back with us. For your approval. I promised Allendale an answer by the morning,’

  The constriction returned to Ellen’s throat, but for a very different reason. She stepped forward and scratched the pony’s head.

  ‘He’s as sweet-natured as you could want, ma’am,’ offered Stevens. ‘And used to carrying children, too.’

  ‘He looks perfect for Jamie,’ she managed, just the faintest tremor in her voice.

  ‘It is agreed, then. We shall keep him. Tony is joining us for dinner this evening, I shall ask him to ride over and settle the account in the morning.’

  ‘And when shall we show him to the young master, Your Grace?’ Stevens grinned. ‘He’ll be as pleased as punch when he sees this ’un, I’m sure.’

  ‘That is up to his mother,’ said Max. ‘Well, ma’am?’

  She must not cry.

  ‘After breakfast tomorrow, I think,’ she managed at last. ‘Jamie will want to ride him immediately and there is not really time for that today.’

  A time was arranged and Ellen was turning to go back to the house when Max touched her arm.

  ‘There is something else.’

  As he led her into the stables she said, trying to laugh, ‘Really, Your Grace, it is not necessary for me to see where the pony is going to live, I am sure it will be perfectly—oh!’

  She stopped, her eyes widening when she saw the beautiful grey mare moving restlessly in the loose box. ‘This is not one of your horses.’

  ‘No. The mare is yours, if you want her. I have been looking out for a mount for you and she came up for sale at Beaconsfield. The last owner named her Belle, but of course you may call her what you wish.’

  The mare put her nose over the door of the loosebox as if in welcome.

  ‘Oh, Max, she is lovely. And the name Belle suits her perfectly.’

  ‘Yes, well, we had nothing suitable for a lady in the stables and as I recall you are a good rider. Of camels as well as horses—’

  He broke off and Ellen felt the memories rushing into the ensuing silence. Galloping neck and neck across the sands on Mameluke-trained horses, Mrs Ackroyd affectionately calling her a hoyden because she was riding astride, the cheers of the Mamelukes fading and replaced by nothing but the drumming hoofbeats and their own laughter when they reached the winning post, another of the innumerable ancient ruins that rose up from the desert. Max winning by a head and claiming his prize, their first kiss...

  Ellen felt its magic even now. She wanted to touch his sleeve, to ask him if he remembered, but already he was turning away from her.

  ‘Take someone with you, if you want to ride outside the park,’ he said brusquely. ‘Now if you will excuse me, I have business that will not wait.’

  There it was again, she thought sadly as he left her. The door closing upon any form of intimacy.

  * * *

  Hell and damnation.

  Max strode away from the stables, battling the wave of desire that was surging through him. It happened every time she was near, the tug of attraction that was almost impossible to resist. He had hoped it would diminish as they saw more of one another, but it was quite the opposite. He was more wild for her now then he had been four years ago, the first time he had seen her, perched up on that camel and quite unafraid, despite being surrounded by a hoard of angry warriors. No hysterical outbursts, no maidenly swooning. She had met his eyes and smil
ed, as if in recognition of a kindred spirit. He had known at that moment that he would make her his wife.

  He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memory. Better to remember how she had repaid him. How she had disappeared from his life without a word, never told him he had a son. Aye, he thought as he took the stairs two at a time, better to think of the cost of her betrayal.

  But it did not stop him wanting her.

  Flynn was waiting for him when he reached his bedchamber, a look of pained reproach upon his face.

  ‘I had the water brought up for your bath an hour ago, Your Grace, since you ordered that it should be ready when you returned from your ride. I shall have to send to the kitchens for more.’

  ‘Don’t bother,’ barked Max, stripping off his coat. ‘I’ll bathe in it as it is. The cooler the better!’

  * * *

  By the time Max joined the company for dinner his body was once more under his control. He was glad to find both Dorcas and Anthony Grisham were there before him, it avoided any awkwardness with his wife. Not that Ellen showed any signs of discomfiture. As ever she greeted him with cool friendliness and they maintained their places on opposite sides of the room for the half-hour that Jamie was with them. When dinner was announced Ellen beckoned Tony to accompany her, leaving Max to escort Dorcas. As they crossed the hall to the dining room he listened to her chatting merrily to his steward.

  The perfect society wife.

  * * *

  Ellen had ordered the four places to be set at one end of the table, explaining to Tony that she considered him family and hoping he was not offended by the informality.

  ‘Not at all, ma’am. I am honoured by it.’

  Max knew Dorcas would not approve and waited for her to utter some barbed comment, but she merely glowered silently. It was not until the covers had been removed that anything occurred to mar the enjoyment of their meal.

  As the servants withdrew, Dorcas said, ‘What is this I hear of you buying a horse for the Marquess, Maximilian?’

  ‘It is a pony,’ Ellen told her, smiling. ‘The most beautiful little creature. I am sure Jamie will be thrilled when he sees him in the morning.’

  ‘You are keeping him, then, Your Grace?’ asked Tony.

  ‘Yes. I would like you to ride over to see Allendale first thing tomorrow and give him the asking price.’

  ‘I am surprised you would allow such frivolous expenditure,’ declared Dorcas.

  ‘Not frivolous at all,’ Max replied calmly. ‘The expense was more than covered by the sale of the spare carriage horses.’

  Tony turned to Ellen. ‘And how do you like your mare, ma’am?’

  ‘I have yet to try her out, but I think she will suit me very well. But I believe it was you, Mr Grisham, who found that beautiful little pony for Jamie. I am indebted to you, sir.’

  ‘It was nothing,’ replied Tony, waving away her thanks. ‘I knew the Duke wanted a suitable mount for the Marquess and the pony seemed ideal.’

  Max grinned. ‘And if I know Jamie we will have him careering all over the park by the end of the summer!’

  That brought a cry from his sister-in-law.

  ‘How can you all be so thoughtless, Maximilian?’ She whipped out a handkerchief and pressed it to her lips. ‘W-would you have the boy break his neck, like his uncle?’

  Max was stunned, but Ellen immediately reached for her sister-in-law’s hand.

  ‘Oh, my dear. I beg your pardon if our talk has upset you.’

  ‘Hugo’s death was unfortunate,’ said Max, his jaw tense, ‘but my son must learn to ride.’

  He looked at Ellen, wondering if Dorcas’s outburst had given her second thoughts about Jamie riding the creature, but she merely smiled at him.

  ‘Of course he must,’ she said. ‘You must not blame the Duke, Dorcas. He left the final decision to me. It was I who agreed we should buy the pony for James. And Stevens is going to teach him to ride. I have no doubt he will take great care.’ She pushed back her chair. ‘Shall we leave the gentlemen to their brandy?’

  * * *

  When they had gone Max silently filled Tony’s glass, then his own.

  ‘Was I insensitive?’ he asked. ‘I know the Dowager declared she would never ride again after Hugo died, but I thought that was because she never particularly cared for being on horseback. I didn’t realise she would be so upset.’

  ‘It argues an admirable depth of feeling,’ murmured Tony.

  ‘It argues an excess of sensibility,’ Max retorted. ‘Damn it, man, one cannot live in the country and not ride.’

  ‘The Duchess agrees with you, Your Grace. She would not say such a thing if it were not true.’

  ‘Aye, there is that.’ Max drained his glass and reached again for the decanter. ‘Tell me, what do the staff say now of my new Duchess? She has been here for over a month and is certainly making her mark, but I would not expect them to say anything to me.’

  ‘They adore her,’ Tony said simply. He met Max’s stare with a steady look. ‘It is true, Your Grace. Some were a little sceptical at first, because we were given to understand that she might not be quite up to snuff—’

  ‘That would be the Dowager’s doing, I suppose.’ Max gave a short laugh. ‘That look tells me I am right! Go on.’

  He pushed the decanter towards the steward, who refilled his glass and sat for a moment, his hand clasped around the crystal.

  ‘Well,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘the Duchess has a knack of making people love her. Not that she tolerates insolence, or any slacking amongst the staff, you understand, and they respect her for that. She has taken over the household accounts now, which has relieved me of a significant amount of work. And her grasp of what is required on the land is excellent, too. She is a real asset here.’

  ‘Good God has she no faults?’ exclaimed Max, startled. He saw Tony’s brows shoot up and added acidly, ‘This all sounds far too good to be true.’

  ‘Well, the Duchess told me at the start she has never run a household on this scale, but she is not afraid to ask questions and take advice.’ Tony hesitated a moment, then said slowly, ‘She is determined to make you a good duchess, Your Grace.’

  ‘The devil she is.’

  Max frowned into his glass. She was good for Rossenhall, he knew that.

  She would be good for you, too, if you would let her.

  But that was the problem. He dared not let his guard down, or those twin demons of guilt and regret that pursued him would rear up and destroy him.

  * * *

  When they had finished their brandy the men went through to the drawing room, where they found Ellen alone, working at her embroidery.

  ‘The Dowager has retired with a headache,’ she explained, putting aside her tambour frame. ‘It is very close and I think there might be thunder in the air, I know some people are susceptible to such weather.’

  ‘But not you, Duchess?’ said Tony.

  ‘Oh, no,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I enjoy very good health. Which reminds me, Mr Grisham. Alice tells me that Phelps, the carter’s boy, has broken his leg and cannot work for a while. I know he supports his widowed mother and the younger children, but I do not know the family. Would they be offended, do you think, if I took them a basket?’

  ‘Not at all, ma’am, I am sure they would be grateful. Mrs Phelps does a little sewing, but her income will not be sufficient to keep them all while the boy is laid up.’

  ‘Ah, then I shall take over a couple of gowns that need repairing, too, and pay her something in advance.’

  Tony was right, thought Max, listening to their conversation. Ellen was an asset. It was likely that she already knew more about the people here than he did. When he rode over the estates the men were happy enough to talk to him about the animals and weather and crop yields,
but they rarely offered information about their families unless he asked for it and even then they were loath to complain. He knew she often drove out with Tony in the gig—Max had offered her the use of his curricle, but she had declined and had adamantly refused to let him buy her a phaeton—and now she had her own horse they would be able to go further afield.

  He shifted in his seat. It was not Tony who should be riding out with Ellen.

  ‘I beg your pardon, Your Grace, I had not meant to monopolise our guest.’ Ellen’s soft, musical voice interrupted his thoughts. ‘In fact, we should not be talking business here at all, when I am sure you have both had a surfeit of it during the day.’

  ‘Not at all,’ replied Max, sitting up. ‘I am glad you take such an interest, my dear. Perhaps tomorrow you and I should ride together, it would give you a chance to try out your new mare.’

  There was no mistaking the pleasure that flashed across Ellen’s face at the prospect, or the tinge of colour that stole into her cheek when she accepted the invitation.

  ‘An excellent plan, Your Grace,’ Tony agreed. ‘There are several things I have been meaning to bring to your attention, but you do not need me with you, the Duchess knows and can explain everything. I can have notes ready for you by the morning. In fact, if you will excuse me, I shall go and draw up a list now.’

  Max and Ellen both protested at this, but Tony insisted it was what he wanted to do and Max found himself alone with Ellen. She picked up her tambour frame again and set a few stitches. The silence closed in, hot and uncomfortable, and she soon put it aside, exclaiming, ‘Heavens, but it is very close in here.’

  She went to one of the full-length windows, where she struggled with the lock. Max went across to her.

  ‘Here, let me.’

  As he reached past her to open the catch he could smell that elusive fragrance of jasmine and lily of the valley he remembered so well. Scorching desire sent his thoughts reeling wildly and by the time he had recovered she had pushed the long windows wide and stepped out on to the terrace. At once her delicate perfume was lost in the scent of garden flowers, thick and powerful on the heavy night air.