Return of the Duke

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Return of the Duke Page 12

by Monroe, Jennifer


  “I did. I know it is far from the lady I am, but I grew tired of wondering what it would be like to kiss a man. And poor Mr. Ambrose…” She giggled. “When the kiss broke, he began mumbling about being caught and my father taking his head off with a sword. So, I kissed him again!”

  Both women set into a fit of giggles and were in tears by the time either were able to speak again.

  “My friend,” Marianne said when she caught her breath, “we are both quite happy, are we not? To be courted by men for whom we care deeply makes it all the sweeter.”

  “So, you do care for him deeply?” Julia asked. “I thought you said you were only fond of him.” The grin she wore was unmistakable.

  Marianne shook her head. “Indeed, it is deeply that I care for him. I know it is not more than that, for now, at least not yet. Although, I can imagine being married to him.” She leaned back into the bench and gazed up at the sky without looking at it. “We would reside at Silver Birch Estate, of course; although, in the summer I would like to stay near the ocean. And we would be in London during the season.” She glanced over at her friend. “And what is making you smile so?”

  “You,” came Julia’s reply. “For so long you were forced to suffered the likes of Mr. Sharp to appease your parents. Now, however, you have someone for whom you care, and from what you have told me, he is a good man as well as a Duke.”

  “He is,” Marianne said. “He is the kindest, gentlest man one could ever wish to meet.”

  Hearing voices, she looked over as her parents and William entered the gardens. Without thinking, she shot up from the bench and had to plant her feet to keep from running to them.

  William wore a deep-blue coat, almost black, and tan breeches that were tucked inside a pair of high, black boots. His wavy hair moved with the light breeze, and Marianne had to keep herself from pushing back the lock that fell over his forehead. He could not have been more handsome than he looked at this moment as far as she was concerned.

  “Your Grace,” Marianne said with a curtsy as Julia followed suit. “May I introduce my closest friend, Miss Julia Bevington.”

  “It is a pleasure,” William said with a bow. “Are you ladies enjoying this fine day?”

  “We are,” Marianne replied, doing everything she could to keep her excitement hidden.

  Her father smiled and clapped William on the shoulder. “His Grace has just asked permission to court you,” he said with a wide grin. “Of course, I accepted. Although, I must admit that, after his talks of business with me, I find it hard to say no.” Her father chuckled, and Marianne felt her cheeks heat up. How could her father speak of business during such a momentous occasion?

  Her mother must have sensed Marianne’s discomfiture, for she said, “I do believe that if no business was involved, the answer would have been the same, would it not? We do enjoy the company of His Grace.”

  “You are all too kind,” William said, “but it is a privilege to call the Blithe family my friends. Thus, the honor lies with me.” He turned to Marianne’s father. “And speaking of honor. With your permission, I would like to escort Miss Blithe around the gardens. I am sure Miss Bevington would be willing to chaperone.”

  “I cannot see why not,” her father replied. “Mrs. Blithe and I will wait for you inside. Come, my dear.” He held out his arm for her mother, and the two were soon headed back to the house.

  Marianne wanted to squeal with delight, but she could not do so in front of William. Julia, perhaps, but certainly not the Duke.

  “I have so much to tell you,” William said as he offered her his arm.

  Marianne slipped her arm through his and shot Julia a smile, who fell in place a discreet distance behind them. “Please, tell me, for I have wondered all week how you were fairing.”

  “A few days ago, Mr. Ludlow took me into town,” he said, as giddy as a child. “Do you realize how many shops I own?”

  Marianne shook her head.

  “Nearly all of them! But it was not until I met the butcher…what was his name? Oh, yes, Lawrence; that was his name. It was not until I met Lawrence that I came to understand how important my role as Duke is.”

  Marianne listened with apt attention as he explained the butcher’s concerns.

  “When I told the man that I will take care of it all, he was joyous. You could see the worry leave him as easily as snow melting on a warm winter’s day. He even called out his wife and son to meet me. They, of course, were just as thankful, and I learned that I can be the Duke they need. I understand now how important my role is.”

  The confidence the man exuded was beyond measure, and in turn, Marianne felt pride for him. “Oh, William, I am so happy for you,” she said as they came to stop beneath a large oak.

  Julia stopped a few paces away and busied herself with a nearby rose bush, though Marianne was certain the woman was listening as intently as if she were a part of the conversation. No doubt Marianne would have been the same if the roles had been reversed.

  “Your words are what have encouraged me,” William said with a smile as he looked down at her. “They give me confidence beyond anything I have ever felt before.” Then his smile widened. “Oh, and I met someone else, a friend and business associate of my grandfather’s. She has invited me to dinner tonight to go over plans to add more businesses to the village.”

  “She?” Marianne asked in confusion.

  “Yes. The Dowager Duchess, Sofia Eston.”

  Marianne’s heart sank, for she knew of the woman, and what she knew was not rumor but fact.

  “Have I said something to upset you?”

  “I worry,” Marianne admitted. “I understand that she is one who uses her feminine wiles to get men to do her bidding.”

  William frowned. “I think you misunderstand the nature of the call,” he said. “You see, she will be able to tell me more about my family, stories I have never heard. Also, she had business arrangements with my grandfather before he died, and I should follow through with any promises he made to her.”

  Marianne worried her lower lip. “Please, take care. I worry she will take advantage of you.”

  William snorted. “There is nothing to worry about. I am a Duke know and I am in control. Do you not see?” He smiled once again. “These people need me; I do not need them. With a simple yes or no, I can change their lives for better or worse. No one would ever dare defy me.”

  Although she wished to point out that other men of nobility had been duped out of thousands of pounds long before he was born, she kept quiet. It was clear he would not heed her words. furthermore, she did not wish to do anything that would take away the lightheartedness of the day. However, deep down, she continued to worry, for he did not know the ways of people such as the Dowager Duchess. Also, something in the way he spoke bothered her; he was changing into someone different, and his words of people needing him bordered conceit.

  Rather than telling him what was on her heart, she instead smiled as they continued their stroll. Maybe she was misreading his excitement as something more than it was, for he did truly believe he could be helpful in his new position. And perhaps he could.

  “I am happy for you,” she said finally. “I hope your dinner goes well. As you said, you are the Duke, and you can easily say what you wish. I only spoke because I care.” She knew she said the words to reassure herself more than him.

  “I know,” he replied. “And I appreciate your concern. Trust me, I know what I am doing.”

  Something inside Marianne tugged at her that, because in all reality, she feared that he did not.

  ***

  Marianne looked out the window of the parlor, the sun hidden by the dark clouds as rain pelted against the glass. William had left a few hours earlier, and though the remainder of the afternoon was pleasant, she could not shake the feeling something was wrong, or would go wrong. Perhaps her concern stemmed from jealousy, but she doubted rather highly that it was the case. Yet, when he spoke of his role and his influence over ot
her people’s lives, her uneasiness increased.

  “My daughter is being courted by a Duke,” her mother said from behind her, causing Marianne to start. “And yet she stares out the window in sorrow.” The woman placed a hand on Marianne’s shoulder. “My darling, what is worrying you so?”

  “It is nothing mother,” she lied.

  Her mother took a seat beside her on the bench beside the window. “You know it does not good to lie to me,” she said. “Now, tell me.”

  Marianne sighed. “It is William,” she said. “I worry for him. He will be attending a business dinner tonight.”

  Her mother laughed. “A man in his position would. Your father does quite often.”

  “That might be true, but it is with the Dowager Duchess Eston.”

  Her mother gave her a knowing nod. “I see.”

  “That woman,” Marianne said, “the ton knows what she does, but no one does anything to stop her. I cannot help but wonder if she has aspirations to somehow turn his eye to her.”

  Her mother reached down and took her hand. “I understand your concern,” she said with a small smile. “This woman could steal him away from you and leave you alone. Yes, it is possible.”

  “Mother!” Marianne gasped. “How could you? What a horrible thing to say.”

  “Yes, it is, and yet you have been thinking it. Let me ask you something. Do you believe he came here today to ask your father’s permission to court you only to meet with this woman in hopes of gaining her affections?”

  “Well…no,” Marianne said with a shake to her head. “He would not do such a thing.”

  “That is correct, for he is a good man. There will be many situations in the future where His Grace will conduct business with people who might be considered morally reprehensible. However, you cannot place their shortcomings on him. What you must do is trust him, especially if you believe he is the one who will ask for your hand one day.”

  Marianne gave her mother a shy smile. “You know, I have thought that.”

  Her mother laughed as she released her hand. “Yes, my love, I do know that.”

  “But how? Is it because of the way I look at him? Or is it the way he looks at me?” A flush of pleasure washed over her as she thought of him looking at her in such a way.

  “It is both, among other ways. When a mother has trouble sleeping and goes to her daughter’s room and finds her not there but in the library with a man, then yes, she suspects such things.”

  Her mother had seen her with William in the library? Why had she not said something sooner? “Mother, I can assure you that nothing happened between us…”

  Her mother cut her off. “I know, and although I should have put a stop to it then, I did not. Mind you, I was close to doing so, but when I heard you two speaking of books and travel, it warmed my heart. However, that is the one and only time you are to be alone with him, and we will not speak of it again.”

  “I promise,” Marianne replied, not willing to admit to the woman that their meeting in the library had happened on more than one occasion. What difference would it have made if her mother knew? She wanted to laugh. It would have made all the difference in the world!

  “Good. Now, come and let us eat. Your father is waiting for us. Remember, William cares for you and trusts you. You must do the same for him.”

  “Of course,” Marianne said. “However, there is one more thing. He spoke of his journey into the village, and something he said has been bothering me. He does not speak like the man we first met months ago. I fear he is changing.”

  Her mother laughed. “Well, of course he is changing. That was why we gave him lessons, so he could become a Duke and not a gardener. He must do so to understand the role he is to undertake. The question is, will you stand beside him in encouragement even after he’s changed?”

  “Yes, of course,” Marianne said firmly. “I most definitely will.” Then she hugged her mother before they headed to the dining room.

  Many things in life existed for which one might hold concern, but William should not be one of them. As her mother said, he was adapting to his role, and Marianne vowed to remain at his side to help guide him no matter what happened.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sofia Eston, Dowager Duchess of Durryham, poured a healthy measure of brandy for His Grace, William Hawkins, Duke of Stromhedge, as he took a seat in a wing-backed chair in the study that had once belonged to her former husband. What had been coined a business dinner had gone far better than she expected. The man was naiver than she had first thought, and that could easily work to her advantage, for she had won her last husband using the same tactics she used now. At least this Duke was a much younger, and more handsome, man than the former Duke of Durryham.

  She had chosen a deep-green gown with gold trim to bring out the green in her eyes. For some reason, men seemed drawn to her eyes, and she used them, as she used every part of her body and mind, to get what she wanted. The gown had a scooping neckline that showed a generous amount of bosom, and although she was disappointed it had yet to draw his eye—even when she had fingered the pendant that lay in the swell of her breasts—but it was still early enough to make him take notice.

  The former Duke had died five years earlier and left her with a healthy fortune. However, as a woman, she had few opportunities to make her money grow for her in the way her husband had. He spent the majority of his time doing just that, long before they were married, of course, and when he died, she was left the entirety of his wealth. An heir had yet to be found, and if it was up to her, one would never be found. The Duke of Durryham had been quite old when he passed, and thus no remaining family members existed, at least to her knowledge. However, she would pass that bridge when, and if, it came. Right now, she had other matters to which she needed to attend.

  “Your Grace,” she said, handing him the brandy as she leaned over, hoping once again to draw his attention to her hefty bosom. “It comes from a special bottle that I save for my most distinguished guests.”

  “You are too kind,” he said and then took a sip. “This is the finest brandy I have ever tasted.”

  She gave him a simple nod, but she wanted to laugh. She had dug into the man’s past and learned, with the help of a few coins, that he had not attended the finest schools nor run any businesses in Scotland as the story had been told, but rather that he had been working as a gardener and was brought up in the humblest of origins. She did not share this knowledge with him, however, for she would use it when the need arose.

  “It is not often I have guests,” she said with a frown. “Well, at least not anymore.” She gave a heavy sigh.

  His brow scrunched and she could read the curiosity on his face as plain as day. Before he could speak, however, she said, “Forgive me. You are not here to listen to the ramblings of an old woman. Please, let me show you what your grandfather helped me plan.” She reached out and placed a hand on his leg. It was forward of her, but he would not know the difference, she was certain of that.

  He stood and she led him to a large table where sat a set of rolled pages she had drawn up a year prior. It was true that she and the former Duke of Stromhedge had been working on expanding the village. That is, until his untimely death. However, she would not allow the man’s dying to keep her from completing all she had planned…and more. If anything, his death would make her an even wealthier woman if she could get into the good graces of the man’s grandson.

  “May I explain what I had planned?” she asked.

  “Yes, please. I would love to hear of it.”

  She unrolled a map of Chertsey and placed an ornate paperweight on each corner to keep it from rolling back up. “It is quite simple, really,” she explained. “We would begin construction of new buildings here and here.” She pointed to specific places on the map. “We were to put in several new shops as well as an inn.”

  “New shops?” William asked. “Did you plan on another butcher’s shop by chance?”

  The question ca
ught her off-guard, and she gaped at him for a moment before responding. “Why, yes. How did you know?”

  “I spoke to the butcher a few days ago, and he fears for him and his wife if competition were to come. I told him he need not worry, that I would not allow it. You must understand; two butcher shops in a village the size of Chertsey could cause both businesses to struggle. I do not believe it would be wise.”

  Sofia cared not what shops were allowed, as long as she could have a financial interest in them. Feigning defeat, she gave a small sigh. “You are right, Your Grace. I feel a fool.” She suppressed a smile when he made an attempt to comfort her.

  “You are not a fool,” he said in a quiet tone. “The land, I believe it is all mine?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. I had agreed to finance the construction of the buildings, with interest paid back to me, of course. I was also promised a few shops to purchase myself.” This was not a lie; the previous Duke had made such promises, and she was unwilling to lose that strong foothold. “Although, I fear I will not be able to choose the right businesses that will be allowed.”

  She suppressed another grin. The money she would make from the building of the properties alone would be a fair sum, but she was seeking a far greater wealth, something that could not be found in any shop. For the real wealth stood beside her. The boy was wealthy beyond imagination, and she would have him marry her one way or another. And although she wished to push forward quickly, she knew she must first gain his trust. Like a fine wine, she would enjoy it slowly over time.

  “Here is what I propose,” he said after a few moments of thought. “We begin the construction at once, and of course, you will finance part of it, if you would like. Then, when the time comes to select which businesses to place in those shops, you will choose let’s say three?”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “You would help me in such a way?” she asked in feigned shock. “I do not understand. Why would you do that? I know nothing of great businesses as you do. Would you not be frustrated at my incompetence?” She lowered her head as if in shame and watched him through her eyelashes.

 

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