Miss Bannerman and The Duke

by Fenella J Miller

  Chapter Fifteen

  The weeks dragged by. However much she tried to raise her flagging spirits Rose remained unnaturally quiet. Even her daily rides did nothing to restore her happiness. Mama was unusually solicitous and watched her anxiously. As the date for her shared anniversary approached she was summoned to her mother’s sitting-room. Millie had gone to visit friends in the village.

  “My dear, come and sit down. Your father and I have come up with a scheme to celebrate your birthdays. We do hope this is something you will be happy with.”

  “I’m sure whatever you suggest will be ideal.”

  “We thought to invite all our tenants and the village folk, as well as our friends and neighbours, to an outdoor celebration of some sort. What do you think?”

  Rose made an effort to appear excited. “A garden party, Mama? That would be lovely—it’s been too long since we opened the grounds to the village.”

  “I shall need your help to organise it for I fear we have left it rather late. Only two weeks until your name days. This is hardly long enough to arrange everything satisfactorily.”

  For the first times in many weeks Rose felt a surge of enthusiasm. There was nothing she liked better than a challenge. “Millie has always loved the stilt walkers and fire eaters who appear at the village fair occasionally. We must have those. I should like a Punch and Judy for the children and could we not have a horse race around the park for the gentlemen?”

  “We shall have whatever you want; no expense is to be spared. I believe I can leave the entertainment in your capable hands. I shall concentrate on providing sufficient food and drink for the several hundred people who might attend.”

  “Millie must be involved. She can design some posters so our guests know what treats are in store for them.” She jumped up and rushed over to hug her mother.

  “Thank you, and please thank Papa. I know why you have suggested this, and you’re quite right to think I need an interest to pull me out of my blue-devils.” This was the first time she had admitted out loud she had not been herself. She waited for the inevitable question.

  “Has something been troubling you, my dear? You have been very subdued since we returned from London. Millie suggested this was because you believe your reputation will be in ruins and you will not be able to attend another Season.”

  This was as good an explanation as any. Something was certainly destroyed. She would never reveal to her parents that her father’s well-meaning interference was the cause of her unhappiness.

  “I am delighted to be able to tell you, my dear girl, that nothing could be further from the case. The letter we had from your brother last week said everyone is sympathetic to your plight. Your papa is the villain of the piece. He has been blamed for refusing his permission. Lord Bentley has left town also and they are saying he is suffering from a broken heart.”

  “I can assure you he is more likely to be suffering from hurt pride. He has a very high opinion of himself, you know.”

  Her mother stared at her as if she were a simpleton. “I should think he does, my dear. Would not anyone born into his position feel the same? Good heavens, if a Duke cannot be proud of his heritage, then who can?”

  “All this is irrelevant anyway; my opinion is neither here nor there. Now, I shall get pen and paper and start compiling my list. Remember, Mama, we are going to require several marquees in case the weather is inclement.”

  “It would not dare to rain on such an important day, but marquees we shall have if that is what you want. Have you any preferences for the buffet?”

  Rose shuddered. “As long as there is nothing remotely connected to the sea, I shall be content. Perhaps it would be better to keep it simple. Why not choose food that is unlikely to become tainted if the weather is warm? Fresh bread, cheese and pickles, meat pasties—that sort of thing.” Her mouth was watering at the very thought. “Some freshly baked scones, apple turnovers, rock cakes and sugared buns would be perfect.”

  “And to drink—fresh lemonade, porter and small beer. There, all I have to do is arrange for the village baker to help out. Cook could not possibly produce sufficient to feed so many.”

  Rose was occupied for the rest of the day with her lists. Papa wandered in to see how she was doing when she failed to appear for afternoon tea.

  “How are you progressing, my love? Is there anything you would like your papa to do, apart from pay the tradesmen’s bills?”

  “I wondered if I could have the assistance of Mr. Burton, the estate manager? He’s better placed than I to seek out the entertainers I wish to employ. Millie is determined not only to have the fire eaters and stilt walkers but also candied apples, hoopla and a fortune teller. I am at a loss to know where I might find the latter.”

  He kissed the top of her head affectionately. “I know exactly where to find one. There’s a Romany encampment on the edge of this estate. I’m certain they will have such a person.” He read over her shoulder. “A horse race? What an excellent idea, now that’s something I shall enjoy watching. What are your entry requirements to be?” He winked at her; he understood her so well.

  “As long as I am able to enter on Orion, I care not for the rules. I don’t believe there’s a horse anywhere that can beat her.” Her smile faded, there was one who could but she was unlikely ever to see Lucifer again. “And no whips or spurs to be allowed by any participant.”

  “Actually, my dear, I came to tell you David’s joining us for the remainder of the year. Our business is completed and he no longer needs to reside in Town.”

  She hugged her father. “This is wonderful news. David has not spent nearly enough time here since you both returned.” Stepping away she smiled anxiously. “You will not mind if I race, Papa? I shall be riding astride.”

  “My darling daughter, on my land you may do as you please and I dare anyone to criticise. Anyway, that outfit you wear reveals little of your person. In fact, far less than some of the gowns I’ve seen you in. Your divided skirt is perfectly acceptable in my opinion.”

  “Are there any cakes left? I find my appetite is restored. I believe I am over my malaise; all it needed was something to look forward to.”

  Perry felt his fishing rod bend as a fat trout took hold and with an expert flick he tossed the fish onto the riverbank. As he stooped to remove the hook he saw two horsemen cantering towards him across the field. The setting sun haloed them in golden light. He rubbed his eyes. He had been praying (not something he was used to doing) a lot of late for the intervention of the Almighty. These riders looked like angels sent to his assistance.

  Good grief! He had spent too long in the sun today; his mind was wandering. Coming towards him were none other than his friends David and Richard. Mop barked a greeting and bounded off to meet his unexpected visitors.

  “Good evening to you both. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you. I have spent too much time alone these past weeks and I am ready for good company. You’re just in time for supper.” Lucifer, who had been grazing in the shadow of the overhanging trees, whickered and trotted up as if he too was pleased to see them.

  “Fresh trout, splendid, I’m starving. We didn’t stop for lunch today.” David swung from the saddle and tethered his mount to a nearby branch. “You look like a gypsy, Perry. I can’t remember ever seeing you in shirt sleeves and bare feet before.”

  David joined him. “You’re thinner, but none the worse for that. What have you been doing with yourself down here in rural isolation?”

  Perry deftly gutted the fish he had just caught. “As you see, I have been fishing; also riding, walking and attending to estate business—but doing far more thinking than is good for me.”

  David removed his topcoat and sat down to pull off his boots—his stockings followed. “That’s better. Is the water safe to drink?”

  “I can do better than that, my friend. If you look to your right you will see a rope, there are a couple of large crocks on the end. One contains beer—the other butter, chees
e and freshly cut asparagus.”

  He left his friends to reel in these items whilst he busied himself striking the tinderbox and lighting the kindling under the fire he had built earlier. Soon the sticks were burning brightly. He reached into the hedge and removed a large skillet. “Do you have the butter?”

  Richard had run his knife around the wax seal on both the crocks. “Is there bread to go with this?”

  “In the hedge in the basket. If you two would set out the cutlery and crockery, I shall prepare our meal.” The butter melted with a hiss and the appetising aroma of frying trout filled the evening air. Perry had done this so often lately he thought nothing of his culinary skills. Sprinkling salt and chopped herbs across the fish he flipped them over and sat back with a sigh of satisfaction.

  “No one would believe the Duke of Essex sits on his backside on the damp grass whilst he cooks his own supper. You have changed, Perry, and for the better.”

  “I have, David, your sister taught me a salutary lesson. Before I met her I believed, I suppose, I was the centre of the universe and I could have anything I desired. Rose is the only thing I’ve ever wanted that I was denied.”

  Richard was rummaging in the basket, happily removing its contents. First the two crisp loaves, then a dish of hothouse peaches and finally a pot of chutney appeared. “Here, David, take these. I have to get out a tablecloth, napkins and the cutlery and crockery.”

  “You will find glasses somewhere as well. I’m surprised you haven’t seen the two bottles of claret. If you uncork one of those we shall drink a toast to the reunion of old friends.”

  By the time they had finished their meal the sun had set. The glorious sound of nightingales filled the air, everywhere was bathed in silver moonlight. For the first time since Rose had sent him away, his mood was less bleak.

  David added more wood to the fire; nobody seemed in any hurry to return. The other horses had been untied and left to roam some time ago. Perry could see them close by munching happily on the dew wet grass. He had to ask, he must know how Rose was.

  He scratched the puppy’s head, keeping his face averted and his voice bland. “How is your family, David?”

  “Millie is well enough. However I hear from my father Rose is not herself.” His friend sat up and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Why have you not gone down to see her instead of moping about here?”

  Perry shrugged off his hand. “I was dismissed. Bannerman sent me a letter explaining your sister no longer wished to marry me as their fortunes were restored. Initially, I admit freely, the engagement was no more than a convenient arrangement for me, but that changed. I had thought she felt the same, but obviously I was mistaken. As I said earlier, it did not occur to me anyone would reject the Duke of Essex.”

  “You misunderstood. If you had gone to enquire you would have heard what happened. Rose was struck down by food poisoning and did not rise until after the letter had been sent. She knew nothing about matters until after the event.”

  “But how did Bannerman know I had offered for her unwillingly?”

  “Millie was in Rose’s confidence; she told him. Rose has not mentioned she is in love with you, but she was miserable for weeks. The last I heard she’s recovering.”

  “Why the devil didn’t she tell him? Surely your parents would not wish her to suffer unnecessarily?”

  “The letter I received from Millie said Rose does not want to upset our father. Rose is convinced you would have come to her, as Richard came, if you had truly loved her. You are a nincompoop. You have let the love of your life slip through your fingers. I always knew your pride would be your downfall.”

  Perry swung round to face his other friend. “You knew I had to be elsewhere in the morning, did it not occur to you to tell Bannerman I was intending to come that afternoon?”

  Richard recoiled. “Steady on, you don’t know the whole. I was given my marching orders as well. Bannerman said Millie was too young to think of becoming betrothed. I am not to contact her in any way until the end of summer. From what David tells me, she is not languishing at home, but gadding about enjoying herself. I fear I might have missed my opportunity as well.”

  Perry felt ashamed of his anger. “I’m sorry, you must be hurting too. Now, did you just come to discover how I was, or have you other business here?”

  “Actually I came to tell you about a horse race to be held in Hertfordshire in a couple of weeks. There is a horse running that has never been beaten, and a fortune has already been placed on its head. I thought your Lucifer, a genuine dark horse, could run against it and make Richard a wealthy man.”

  “I should be eternally grateful, Perry, my inheritance is not great. The odds I would get on Lucifer could ensure I had a few extra thousand to offer when I go to see Lord Bannerman.”

  “I should be delighted to assist. It would do no harm to Lucifer’s stud fees either. Where exactly does this race take place, David?”

  “Around an estate—it moves from place to place each year. I’m not exactly certain on whose land it will be this July. I shall let you know nearer the time. There’s an excellent hostelry in St Albans, shall I reserve rooms for you there?”

  Perry scooped up a jug of river water and tossed it on the fire. “Yes, do that. They will be sending out search parties soon if we don’t return. We need to gather the debris and put it under the hedge, someone will collect it tomorrow morning.”

  He whistled and his stallion loomed out of the darkness. “I shall leave you to tack up your mounts, Lucifer and I travel light.” Grasping a handful of wiry mane he vaulted on the stallion’s back. Then he reached down and grabbed Mop’s scruff. The house was too far for the little dog to run. His mount needed no urging, he was as eager as he to return to Bentley Hall.

  He was not happy; he would never be truly content again. But having something to look forward to, even an event as trivial as a country race, was what he needed to snap out of his melancholy. He must believe somehow he might be given another opportunity to win back the girl he would love for the rest of his life.

  Chapter Sixteen

  At last—the big day had arrived. Rose was out of bed in a trice. There was so much to do before the guests started to arrive at noon. Millie had suggested they wear identical outfits for their name day but as they had such dissimilar taste Rose had been uncertain. However, Papa had sent for a seamstress from London and a lovely compromise had been found.

  She paused to admire her gown in cornflower blue. The sash was in a darker shade and the same colour ribbon encircled her elegant, narrow brimmed bonnet. Dainty, matching blue walking slippers made up the ensemble. Millie’s outfit was in primrose, her sash and bonnet ribbon in buttercup yellow. There were also parasols and reticules of the same fabric as the dress, but Rose doubted she would use either of them.

  Her crisp shirt and divided skirt were far more attractive. Her riding boots were polished to a high shine, the necessary under garments neatly folded beside them. For now she pulled on an old cotton morning dress and pushed her feet into sturdy boots. She would be back to take a bath and change an hour before the birthday party started.

  “Happy birthday, my darling girl. Give your old papa a kiss this fine morning.”

  “I am so excited. Do you know, David said there are more than thirty entries for the race? I’m glad he’s home and has taken over the organisation of this event.”

  “Are you coming to eat, Rose?”

  “Not yet, Papa. I wish to check the marquees are ready and the stalls are in their correct places. I also have to visit the stable to see Orion has eaten her oats.”

  “Then, I shall come with you. I must say it’s decidedly strange not having a house full of guests. But as you and Millie were so insistent we only invite those who could travel the house is empty. Your mama and I wish you to have exactly what you want on your special day.”

  A clatter on the stairs heralded the arrival of her sister. “Wait for me, I want to see everything as well.” Whilst Papa
embraced Millie, Rose waited on the front step.

  “Look at that. The park looks like a scene from a storybook, not like our grounds at all. And we have perfect weather and there are roses flowering just for us.”

  Millie came out to join her. “Have you any idea what we are to receive as our gift?”

  “None at all; all Papa would say is that our gifts would arrive this afternoon. I have more than enough already. I think of this party as my present.”

  There was one thing she would like above anything to make her day perfect, but arranging that was not within her father’s remit. After the first three weeks her sister had no longer mentioned Richard, and now had several young gentlemen in tow.

  “Which of your admirers is to escort you today, Millie?” Rose asked quietly.

  “I have invited none of them. I am in love with Richard. I’m counting the days until he’s allowed to come here.”

  “Well, girls, where are we to look first?”

  Outside the sound of hammering, shouting and raucous laughter indicated the stall holders were busy at their tasks. Rose stepped out of her bath and into the towel held out for her by Mary. Daisy had been appointed to take care of her sister. Mama had insisted they were old enough to require their own abigails.

  “Not a cloud in the sky, miss. The good Lord has blessed this day, that’s for sure.”

  “I want everyone to enjoy themselves. I love to see people happy, as this raises my own spirits wonderfully.”

  Her maid snorted. “Begging your pardon, miss, I think it’s shameful you were let down so badly.”

  “Mary, I’ve asked you before not to talk about that matter. It’s in the past; today I believe I can move on with my life.”

  Stepping into the high-waisted gown made her feel elegant, beautiful even. She’d not had that feeling since she wore the silver confection he had given her. She never said his name, even in her head for it made her eyes fill with unwanted tears. She was well aware it might take years, not weeks, to recover from her disappointment.