“My dream has been to find property in London in order to expand my business further,” he continued. Then he smiled. “Well, that dream is about to come true.”
“Oh?” Marianne said, perplexed. What did this have to do with her? “I am happy for you, Father.” That was not an untruth either, but it also did not relieve the anxiety that ran through her stomach.
Her father stood and went to the unlit fireplace to lean against it. “The fact is, I will need your help in this matter.”
Tears of joy sprung up in Marianne’s eyes. For years she had told her father that if she was ever given the opportunity, she knew she could run her own shop, a millinery or a tea shop would have been a pleasant change of pace from sitting in the drawing room with her embroidery hoop every afternoon as she did on most days. Now, finally, after so many years, he would allow her the opportunity to do just that, and she could barely contain her excitement.
“Oh, Father,” she said, standing as she wiped at her eyes. “For so long I have shared with you my eagerness to learn. And although I do understand that society’s standards dictate that a woman should not run a business…” Her father made an attempt to interrupt, but she ignored him and continued on. She was far too excited to stop now. “You will not be disappointed. I will run your shop with the utmost care. I will make you proud.” She had never been so happy in all her life.
However, the feeling was short-lived as her mother reached up and took hold of her arm. “Marianne, do sit down,” the woman said, not in an unkind tone.
Marianne did as her mother bade as her father rubbed at his brow. That was not a good sign.
“You see, George,” her mother admonished, “I should have been the one to tell her.”
Her father sighed. “Once again, you are right,” he mumbled as he returned to his seat. “Very well, then, you tell her.”
Marianne had gone past the point of confusion, and now anger boiled up inside her. Nothing made sense and she still had no idea what they wished to tell her. “Mother, may I…”
“Just listen,” her mother said in that stern voice that brooked no argument. Then she took a deep breath before continuing. “Your father was in discussion with the Duke of Stromhedge before he passed away last month.”
“I remember,” Marianne said. The man had been quite old and a bit of a recluse from what she could recall.
“Arrangements have been made for your father to acquire the properties he needs.”
“I see,” Marianne said, although she did not fully understand. “And how will I be able to help?”
“What I am about to tell you is of the utmost secrecy,” her mother said, lowering her voice as if the walls had ears. “Not a word to anyone concerning this arrangement. Do you understand me? Not a single person can learn of it.”
“Mother, I am hardly one for gossip,” Marianne said with a laugh. Her mother’s eyes narrowed, however, and Marianne knew that the woman’s temper was nearing its pinnacle.
“I am quite serious about this, young lady. If your father loses this deal, we will be shamed beyond belief.”
Marianne looked over at her father, who sat in his chair solemnly, and then turned back to her mother. “I will not say a word to anyone,” she said with an added seriousness to her tone.
“Good,” her mother replied, the smile returning. “As you know, he lost his son several years ago and never had any other children. Well, after some searching, an heir has been found to take his title and to assume control over all of his business dealings. The problem is, the man has not been raised with either gentry or aristocracy, so we will be helping him in those matters.”
“I do not understand,” Marianne said with a shake of her head.
“You see, before the Duke can be introduced to the ton, he will need instruction on how to be a gentleman. Therefore, you and I will go to Silver Birch Estates in Chertsey to instruct him in his speech and how to conduct himself in public as a member of the aristocracy. In return, your father will earn the London properties as well as a sum of money he can use to start his new businesses.”
Marianne worried at her bottom lip. Was what they were telling her some sort of joke they were playing on her? The entire idea was so contrived she could not imagine it to be true. However, the serious looks on their faces showed her that what her mother had said was not a game.
“I understand,” she said, although she still was unsure what she felt about the matter. Looking at her father, she smiled. “And what of Mr. Sharp?”
“Well, with your help, I believe you will be very busy attending to your aunt for the time being and after that, you will be busy in London—much too busy to have Mr. Sharp calling.” He gave her a loving smile. “Then that leaves you to find this love you seek.”
Marianne could not believe her good fortune. Not only would she be free of Mr. Sharp’s attentions, but she would have the opportunity to show her father that she was responsible enough to help with his businesses.
“Excellent,” she said. “When do we begin?”
“In three days’ time,” her father replied as he pulled himself from the chair. “And remember, not a word to anyone.”
“Yes, Father, I understand. Not a single word.”
***
“I thought it was just a joke of sorts at first,” Marianne said as she sat in the garden with her best friend Julia Bevington two days later. “However, they were not joking at all! It is all true!” She still could not believe that she and her mother would be leaving for Silver Birch Estates the following day; it was as if each day was an eternity in its passing. Although she had sworn not to tell a soul, there were things men—or mothers—did not understand, such as the sharing of secrets between friends, and Marianne was certain that Julia would not say a word to another living soul. She had proven time and time again that she could keep any secret Marianne shared with her.
“Perhaps he means to marry you off,” Julia said as she plucked a leaf off a nearby bush. “If your father is desperate for money, it would not be the first time a father has sold off his daughter to better his business dealings.”
Marianne gasped. “Julia! What a horrible thing to say!”
“It is horrible,” her friend replied, “but perhaps it will not be that bad. Perhaps the new Duke is handsome and you will not want to leave.”
They giggled, and Marianne’s mother walked up to them. “What do you two ladies find so humorous?”
“Oh, nothing, Mother,” Marianne said.
Her mother gave her a look that showed she was not impressed. Marianne had more secrets to share with Julia, but with her mother close enough to hear, she held her tongue.
“I am sorry to hear about your aunt,” Julia said as if reading Marianne’s mind, a trait the two friends had shared since they were young. “Might I suggest we find a flower from the garden to give to her?”
“Thank you,” replied Marianne with ease. “And what a wonderful idea. Mother?”
“Very well, you have five more minutes but no more. We have much to ready before we are to leave tomorrow, and I will not be rushed because you dallied your time away choosing flowers that we could get from your Aunt Linda’s garden.”
“We will not be long, I promise,” Marianne replied, and she and Julia headed further into the garden to share their whispered conspiracies and enjoy the last few moments they would spend together for the unforeseeable future.
Chapter Three
William could not help but stare in utter amazement as he made his way around the massive house that made up the main residence of Silver Birch Estates. It was at least thrice the size of the house Lord Garvey owned, and although Mr. Ludlow had led him on a tour of the house that began an hour earlier, they still had so much more to see.
The main floor was comprised of a personal library, a parlor, a drawing room, a study, and a ballroom. On the first floor were the main bedrooms, including his, which included not one but three rooms altogether. The door from the hallwa
y opened to a small entry room that Mr. Ludlow explained was a sitting room—his own sitting room!—which led to a bedroom bigger than an entire cottage and a large room that was to be his wardrobe. He gaped at the wardrobe, which was bigger than the room he and Thomas had shared back at Millweed Manor, that would house all of his clothes. Already it held more clothing than he had ever seen in his entire life, and yet it had all belonged to one man, his grandfather.
A large doorway led out to a balcony that overlooked the gardens.
“I own it all?” he asked in awe.
“As far as the eye can see,” Mr. Ludlow replied.
If there was not so much more to see, William would have remained standing there looking at the gardens for the remainder of the day, but Mr. Ludlow moved him on.
The remaining rooms were not as large, but just as grandly decorated, as his own, and he imagined how many people there would need to be to simply fill all those beds. Each room had a theme and was named as such. The China room was filled with reds and yellows and strange objects William had never seen before.
“What are these strange markings?” he asked.
“That is Chinese writing,” explained Mr. Ludlow. “I am unsure what they say, but your grandfather said that they would bring good luck to whoever sleeps in the room.”
This made William laugh. “That’s definitely odd,” he said, still laughing. “Who woulda thought it?” He shook his head in wonderment. His grandfather sounded an odd man as far as he was concerned.
Once the tour was completed, they returned to the library where William perused the titles on one of the tall oak bookcases. A large vase sat on a table nearby, a large bouquet of fresh flowers in it. “Look at this,” he said. “I bet this cost a lot of money.” He glanced over at Mr. Ludlow. “Do you think it’d be all right if I touch it?”
Mr. Ludlow chuckled. “Your Grace, it belongs to you. All of this is yours. You may do as you please.”
With a nod, William reached out and touched the vase with the tip of a trembling finger. That would be just the thing to happen, to break a fancy vase on his first day as a Duke. It was curious; he understood that everything in the house belonged to him, but he found the idea difficult to grasp.
“Your grandfather had it imported from Japan. Some of the finest wares come from that land. You’ll find that he was no stranger to expensive things.”
“I can see that,” William said. “I want to go back to the ballroom. Do you think we can?”
“Of course,” Mr. Ludlow said with a chuckle.
They made their way back to the large room, and William walked immediately over to the far wall where two paintings hung, one of an older man and another he easily recognized as his father, although his memory of the man was faint after so many years. A feeling of melancholy came over him as he stared at the man who had loved him so fiercely during his first eight years of life.
“My father never told me nothing about my grandfather or his life here.”
Mr. Ludlow came to stand beside him. “Unfortunately, your father and grandfather did not look at things in the same way, and thus your father shielded you from this life. There are many fine aspects of being a Duke, but if I can give you one piece of advice, it would be this. With power and wealth can come corruption. Understand that I held your grandfather in great regard, but your father saw that corruption take hold of your grandfather. Your father was a very different man, and that is why he followed his heart to your mother. I hope you do not allow your newfound wealth to corrupt you, Your Grace.”
William nodded and then turned to the adviser. Although he had known the man for just over four days, he could see why he had been entrusted with the estate. He was wise and kind, and William knew he would need that around him. Plus, what did he know of Duking? Not a single thing.
“Don’t you worry,” he said with a smile as he clapped Mr. Ludlow on the back. “I’m used to having nothing.”
Mr. Ludlow widened his eyes for a moment and then smiled. “Very good, Your Grace. Now, we have one more thing to do.”
“More?” William gasped. “I can’t imagine there being more.”
Mr. Ludlow chuckled and then led William out into the hallway. Several men and woman—William counted fifteen in total—stood in varying types of uniforms, from maids to footmen, or so William guessed, all of varying ages and each as different as the next. They reminded him of the servants he knew back at Millweed Manor, but none of them had ever looked at him the way these people did.
At the front of the line stood an older man, perhaps of the same age as Mr. Ludlow, with silver at his temples and wearing crisp black livery that consisted of a matching coat and vest and a starched white shirt underneath. The look was finished off with a crisp, white bow tie. Beside him was a stately woman of middle years, her graying hair pulled back into a severe bun at the nape of her neck. Unlike the other women, she did not wear an apron, but rather wore a black dress with a high collar that all but hid her neck.
“This is your staff,” Mr. Ludlow announced. “Mrs. Ingrid Templeton, your housekeeper. She will see to the everyday running of the household. If you need anything, you may make your request to her and she will see it done.”
“Anything?” William asked in confusion.
“That is, anything to do with the running of the house. If you would like a specific item on the dinner menu, she will see that Mrs. Patrick—she is the cook here at Silver Birch—prepares it.” A heavyset woman at the end of the line took a step forward, curtsied as well as her large size would allow and then took a step back.
“This is Mr. Patrick Barnsworth,” continued Mr. Ludlow. “He is your butler. He is also available to see to your needs.”
William looked back and forth between the housekeeper and the butler. “Who do I ask what?” he asked, his stomach already churning at the thought of asking anyone for anything. Or rather commanding someone. He had never been in a position to give orders and he was unsure if he would be able to do so. Besides Thomas, anyone who had ever been in a position of authority had not shown him all that much respect, and he could not imagine himself treating these people with such disregard.
“Do not worry, Your Grace,” the butler said in a congenial tone. “You may make any request of either of us and we will see your needs met.”
Mrs. Templeton shot the man a quick glance that showed that a bout of territorialism existed between the two servants. William could remember the servants at Millweed Manor being much the same, but they never seemed to take it very far. As long as Lord and Lady Garvey were happy, they were happy.
“Well, I appreciate that. I’ve got a lot to learn, so I hope you’ll all be patient with me.”
The servants mumbled their agreement, gave their courtesies, and left to go about whatever it was they needed to be doing.
“Would you like to see the gardens?” Mr. Ludlow asked when everyone was gone.
The idea excited William. “Oh, yes! I imagine they are so much grander than those at Millweed Manor, if that’s even possible.”
Mr. Ludlow gave him another chuckle. “I believe you will be pleased.”
William was surprised by the number of people working in the gardens. He saw at least seven during his stroll, some pruning the large hedges, others tending to the flowerbeds, apparently readying them in much the same way he had done before leaving the Garvey home. Red brick lined the path, and the sheer size of the gardens was overwhelming. The trek seemed to take forever, and when they finally reached the opposite end, a large gate looked out onto an open grassy field.
“Look at all that land,” William breathed. “Old Thomas woulda loved a cottage out there.” Far in the distance he could just make out several small cottages with dots of white and black sheep grazing outside of them.
“This is all your lands, Your Grace,” Mr. Ludlow said with a smile. “The size is immense, I assure you. While others of wealth kept their fortunes in the mines, your grandfather invested elsewhere, mainly in
sheep and wool, several dealings in real estate, and he even invested in the shipping of textiles. Like the land, your new fortune spreads far.”
William shook his head in wonder. “I am thankful, but it’s all still so strange. How’ll I ever figure all this out?”
“Do not worry, Your Grace,” Mr. Ludlow said. “You will learn everything you need to know in no time at all. Now, I have some business I must attend to. Your guests should be arriving in the next few hours, and then we shall go over a plan of sorts to get you to where you need to be.”
“Great!” William said, and the two headed back to the house. William just wished he had as much confidence in his abilities as Mr. Ludlow seemed to have.
***
Mr. Ludlow had retreated to the study, but William still wanted to explore. Therefore, taking his time, he strolled through the gardens, admiring the work of the men who were employed there. As he stood watching one man in particular, he was reminded of Thomas, and he hoped the old man was able to continue his work. William would be able to write to him soon to tell him he was welcome to come calling over whenever he pleased. One thing he needed right now was a friend, and Thomas was just that.
As he walked back to the house, he passed a man planting a row of flowers, though the lines were a bit crooked.
“Hello,” William called out.
The man stood and bent himself almost in half. “Your Grace!” he squeaked.
“What’s your name?”
“Jake, Your Grace. Jake Walkins.”
“Well, Jake,” William said in his congenial tone, “you’re doing excellent work with these flowers. But do you mind if I share some advice?”
The man stared at him for a moment and then nodded. “Of course, Your Grace.”
“That line there,” he pointed to one in particular that was far from straight, “is a bit out of sorts, but there’s a way to fix it.”
The man gasped and his cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry, Your Grace, and I beg your forgiveness.”
Return of the Duke Page 3
