The Duke's Secrets

by Abby Ayles

  “How is your search for a suitor? Any luck?” Mary asked.

  “Too much luck,” Antoinette replied. “My parents wish for me to choose between a number of appropriate suitors. I am not prepared. I... I cannot make such a monumental decision on my own. They have reassured me that every man they are considering is a good choice and that they would be happy for me to marry any of them. And yet... that simply makes it all so much more confusing.”

  Mary sighed. “I am not certain of what to do at all. I do not know how Mr. Haskett compares to other men, and I do not have enough experience talking with men to work out his ways and persuade him to converse openly with me.”

  “Unfortunately, dear cousin, these are the circumstances we find ourselves in. These are the paths chosen for us,” Antoinette replied. “Do you recall how, when we were younger, I was often envious of your silky dark mane, and you of my golden curls? This is the same sort of situation. And, now as then, it is hopeless to wish for what we will never possess. We must consider our real circumstances, and what must be done to ensure that our marriages are successful. In my case, I must choose a man.”

  “And in my case I must become familiar with my suitor and make it known that I can be an excellent wife to him,” Mary replied. She paused briefly to make sure she really wanted to add this, but in her heart of hearts she knew it was the right thing to do. “I suppose we ought to cancel this retreat and head home?”

  Antoinette nodded. “That certainly sounds wise. If you are to become familiar with Mr. Haskett, the first step would be to spend time in his company.”

  Mary was overcome with gratitude and joy for her cousin. “Oh, Antoinette, please come back and stay with us. I have no confidence talking to this man on my own, but perhaps with you by my side I can summon the courage. And besides, you are so much wiser than I am as to a proper courtship. With your protection, support, and wisdom I am certain that I shall be able to discover Mr. Haskett's true nature and prove to him that I am worthy to be his wife.”

  Antoinette hugged her cousin and best friend closely and petted her hair. “Why of course I shall. You are my favourite out of all our cousins, and I want nothing more than to see you well married. And from what your mother has said, if you manage to persuade Mr. Haskett, you shall be married very well indeed.”

  Mary nodded and glanced out the window. “I do hope so. It would be a shame if after so much effort he turns out to be just a terrible tutor.”

  Antoinette giggled before waving her hand out of the landau. Nothing happened, so she waved again, this time more forcefully. Her brother's voice came from the front. “Yes? Do the ladies require anything?”

  “We shall be returning to our cousin Marianne's house, and staying there a few days,” Antoinette replied.

  There was silence from the other side, but Mary could have sworn she heard an exasperated sigh before Thomas spoke up again. “Very well. Turn around Davies, we shall be returning to Thistle Manor.”

  Mary felt a little guilty for having wasted Thomas's time. And yet, she knew that her own time, and Antoinette's, had not been wasted at all. They had gained something from their brief outing—they now had a plan which could lead Mary to successfully court Mr. Haskett.

  * * *

  Mr. Haskett did not seem particularly impressed when it was announced that Antoinette would be joining them for their lessons. However he also did not challenge the situation. Mary wondered if he had responded in a similar manner when she left him by the piano forte just two days prior. She had, after all, demonstrated that she would not tolerate impropriety from him, so it was only natural that he would be on his best behaviour, and highly complacent.

  Still, by that gleam in his eye, it was clear to Mary that he would have preferred to continue the lessons privately.

  “Have you played long?” he asked Mary, selecting several books from the shelf. “Do you believe you could play me some Purcell?”

  “I shall attempt to, although I am not familiar with his work,” Mary admitted. “My previous teachers preferred to ensure that I could play beautiful music successfully, rather than focus on any particular composer.”

  “Indeed, but surely you ought to be quite familiar with the names? Lully, Rossi... Sanz,” Mr. Haskett replied, placing the books down on the bench in turn.

  “I am afraid not,” Mary replied, “I am but familiar with the scores.”

  “My mother says that to put the name before the music is to turn art into a popularity contest,” Antoinette remarked.

  “On the contrary, our music is a great piece of our history and we must record and revere those who master it,” Mr. Haskett replied.

  Antoinette raised an eyebrow which suggested she was not pleased by his reply, but also unsure as to whether her station would allow her to correct him. If he were a Lord, she would easily be stationed above him. Some Barons too. But then again, perhaps he was above her. She furrowed her brow and made eye contact with Mary, who lightly shrugged and resumed playing.

  “You are a true virtuoso,” Mr. Haskett commented.

  Mary beamed. “Well, I have been playing since I was a little girl. Pray tell, when and where did you learn piano forte?”

  Mr. Haskett smiled. “I learned from my mother.”

  “Oh.” Mary couldn’t think of anything else to saying. There was a brief pause. “Well, that still tells me absolutely nothing about you.”

  “Does it not?” Mr. Haskett replied with a flash of his roguish grin.

  “You could be anyone, really. Except a piano forte teacher, we have ruled that one out,” Mary said, and Antoinette giggled.

  Mr. Haskett cast a brief glare in Antoinette’s direction, then gave a slow, deliberate bow to Mary. “If you think so little of my teaching skills then perhaps we ought to take a walk in the garden instead? The weather is quite lovely for the time of year, I believe a light shawl is all you’ll require.”

  Mary smiled and nodded towards him. “I think that is a splendid idea.”

  The girls found their shawls and bonnets as Mr. Haskett put on a light coat, and then all were ready for their walk. Mr. Haskett, however, had a different idea.

  “Antoinette, my good young lady, there is no need for you to accompany us here. We shall simply walk around the garden. Why, if you stand at the gate you shall be able to see us the entire time,” Mr. Haskett explained.

  Antoinette gave him a knowing look and then nodded to Mary. Mary trusted her cousin. Antoinette understood all the norms of courtship, so if she believed it was the proper thing to do, Mary would follow her guidance.

  Mr. Haskett presented his arm and Mary felt a slight pull in her stomach. She had held the arms of boys and men before, of course. But this was different. This was not an acquaintance or a relative, and she was not a little girl. This was a man who wished to marry her. And this was the first time she would be touching him. She felt her hand shake slightly as she raised it and rested it into the fold of his elbow. He lifted his left hand and briefly rested it on her fingertips. The shaking subsided. Looking up at him, she knew she was blushing.

  “Let us walk,” he said.

  Mary nodded. “Yes.”

  They began walking down the garden, all the while under Antoinette's watchful eye.

  “You have a beautiful garden, very well kept,” Mr. Haskett said, looking around.

  Mary nodded. “Thank you.” She glanced around, making sure they were properly out of Antoinette's earshot. “Why did you choose to court me?”

  “Because you are a good choice,” he replied.

  “And what makes me a good choice?” Mary pressed.

  “You are of marrying age, which is always a positive, and you are single, which is in your favour too.”

  “Is that all? Our housekeeper is of age, and unwed, yet you are not walking with her,” Mary replied.

  “Then you are answering your own question.” Mr. Haskett laughed. “You are of age, unwed, and of some status.”

  “If that is all
it takes to get a man's attention, I suppose.” Mary continued, feeling bolder, “although following your metaphor of the bouquets, I was rather expecting you were not rushing into the florist to seize the very first one you laid eyes upon.”

  “On the contrary, that is why we are here,” Mr. Haskett replied. “That I may observe each bouquet, see in it its potential, and make a wise judgement.”

  “Perhaps then,” Mary began tentatively, “we ought to reach an agreement.”

  Mr. Haskett stopped walking and Mary's hand slid from his arm. She turned to face him. A perplexed, yet somewhat bemused expression rested on his lips. “An agreement?”

  “For every thing you learn of me, you must tell me something about yourself,” Mary added. “It is only fair, if I some day am to become your wife, that we enter our matrimony knowing equal amounts about each other.”

  “Very well. I am also unattached, of marrying age, and I clearly have enough status for your parents to consider me an appropriate suitor,” he said.

  “That is not enough, you know where I live, my hobbies, and who my parents are,” Mary pressed.

  “Three more facts? Very well. You already are aware that I play piano forte, and that my mother taught me.”

  “That is but one,” Mary smiled in amusement.

  “You are one of the loveliest young women I have ever courted, and I would very much like to continue courting you. If all goes well, perhaps some day soon we shall marry,” he explained. “Would you like that?”

  Mary stilled. Slowly, heat rose from her core and pink flushed her cheeks. “You owe me two more, Mr. Haskett.” She chose to deflect.

  Mr. Haskett smiled a wicked grin and produced an exaggerated sigh. “Very well, very well... I have no living family.” He paused, and there was a glint of desire in his eyes. “And I like cats. Will that do?”

  Mary laughed quietly. “I suppose it will have to. Although you can tell very much about a man from his taste in pets,” she contorted.

  “Such as?”

  “I am not sure, I shall have to ask Antoinette.” Mary giggled again. Mr. Haskett was not so bad after all.

  “What can she tell you that I cannot?” Mr. Haskett asked, moving in closer so that their shoulders lightly touched. He managed to brush her fingertips with his thumb. Or was that just the wind?

  “Her real name,” Mary said.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, Mary was disappointed to find that Antoinette was not at breakfast. In fact, she was still not home. She and her brother headed into town, apparently on important and confidential business. But Antoinette’s sudden absence only made Mary curious. She knew that Antoinette would share absolutely everything with her. And so, the fact there was seemingly a secret between them left Mary feeling eager. If her conscious was right, she knew it would be a temporary secret, one to be held until all the pieces were in place.

  Where was Antoinette?

  Who was she with?

  Although the questions were burning up inside her, Mary knew that with a little patience she would soon know what confidential business her cousin was attending to in town.

  Mary spent her morning alone, reading, as she often did. Being an only child she had grown accustomed to spending time on her own. At first it was because she was too young to be trusted running around the house when guests were present. Then because she had to attend to her studies, not spend her time at parties and social dinners. And now because a young woman ought not overexert herself, or flaunt herself about the house when guests were present. At times she wondered whether or not she might have socialised more had she been raised in a nunnery.

  And yet, despite her curiosity about the wider world she had never truly ventured out into it. She would tell herself it was parental restrictions, or just the way a proper young lady ought to behave. But deep down she knew that it was because she was scared. Too scared to go out alone. And the prospect of having a husband who could provide her with company and protection as she explored the world... it thrilled her.

  The lesson came and Antoinette was still not home. Mr. Haskett therefore insisted to play with the door open as before. It was one of the little luxuries of courtship, that if a couple wanted time away from prying eyes and ears that they may learn more of each other, so long as the music were playing it would be acceptable for them to meet over a piano forte or a violin. Mary was glad of this, and of every other opportunity she had to decipher the mystery that was Mr. Haskett.

  “I used to play polo,” Mr. Haskett said suddenly, “and hunt. But after I fell from my horse and broke my ankle, I never had the courage to attempt horse riding again.”

  “Oh,” Mary said, not quite sure what to make of that information, let alone how to respond.

  “Now, seeing as I have told you something about myself, I suppose you shall have to tell me something about yourself?” he asked hopefully.

  Mary smiled. Now perhaps there could be progress, and she could get to know the man her parents wished for her to wed. “Very well Mr. Haskett... I have never cared for needlework.”

  “I found Sunday school to be horribly dull.”

  Mary repressed a slight laugh. Mr. Haskett reminded her of the boys who used to skip Sunday school to go fishing in the pond, now that she thought about it. “I loved Sunday school and was always thrilled to see my friends.”

  “I find that fact banal, I would like another one,” Mr. Haskett replied, smirking.

  Mary would normally feel insulted by such a smile and yet... she could tell it was genuine, and somehow that made her feel happy. He was enjoying their conversation, enjoying talking to her. She too was beginning to enjoy his company.

  “Do you? Well... I have never been courted by any man before you,” she admitted.

  “I was already aware of that,” he replied, the smirk never leaving his face. “It ought to be something I do not know.”

  “Do you intend to dismiss every fact I reveal to you? Or are you merely stalling to avoid telling me anything more about yourself?” Mary asked.

  “I found that rude, that is a fact about me,” Mr. Haskett replied.

  Mary laughed, then remembered how she was told to behave and covered her mouth with her hand to hide the giggles. “Pardon me, Sir. I forgot myself. But you are being most distracting.”

  “Pardon me, mademoiselle, but I find you very attractive,” Mr. Haskett said. “If you do not mind me saying so.”

  Mary felt her face flush hot and her hands halted over the keys. She could hardly believe he had said that. It felt so sudden, so intrusive amidst the playfulness. And yet, it pleased her greatly. “Even if I did mind,” she said eventually, “you have already said it.”

  “But do you mind?” Mr. Haskett turned the page for her, leaning close over her shoulder, the rich, yet not overpowering scent of his cologne surrounding her like a fine mist.

  Mary felt her face grow hotter and hotter. “Not in the slightest, Mr. Haskett.”

  Mr. Haskett smiled, then glanced at the clock. “It appears the time for our lesson has ended. I have some affairs to attend to.”

  Mary nodded, finding it hard to move or breathe, let alone speak. “I shall see you again tomorrow, yes?”

  “Why of course.” His footsteps echoed out the door and down the hallway. “Goodbye Miss Elridge.”

  But it was not until his footsteps had disappeared, the front door had been loudly closed, and his town coach had clattered past the window that she finally found herself able to move. She collected the music books and returned them to the shelf.

  “He finds me attractive,” she whispered to herself as she replaced the last score. She felt her pulse racing, and yet she was strangely relaxed. She smiled and ran her fingers down the spine of the book thoughtfully. It seemed that this courtship was going just as her mother wanted it to.

  Leaving the room, Mary was overjoyed to hear her cousins' voices emerging from the drawing room. She quickly remembered the secretive manner in which they ha
d left that morning, parting before breakfast and not telling anyone what they were to do. She knew that whatever Antoinette had to tell her, it would be exciting.

  The drawing room door was open so she walked in and curtsied. Antoinette smiled at Mary, but it appeared forced.

  “My piano forte lessons have ended,” Mary remarked.

  Antoinette nodded. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “Very much so. Where did you go, so early this morning?” Mary asked.

  “I simply must tell you all about our day in town,” Antoinette said, offering a conspiratorial smile.

  Mary smiled back. “Shall we adjourn to the front room?”

  Antoinette nodded and stood up. “Yes, I believe my brother has a book he wishes to find in the study, but we can go on our own. I require some feminine company after this morning.”

  Thomas did not need any more hints. He stood and declared, “Indeed, I need to find a book to read later,” and left the room.

  Mary followed Antoinette into the front room, where Antoinette looked around before closing and locking the door.

  “Why the secrecy?” Mary asked with a slight laugh. “My mother was the same...”

  “Hush now, there is something very important I have discovered about Mr. Haskett,” Antoinette interrupted, tapping Mary's mouth with her index and middle finger to demand silence. “He is not the man you believe him to be.”

  Mary blinked, but stayed quiet and merely nodded.

  “I think you may need to be seated. This information is,” Antoinette drew a deep breath, “one of the most thrilling things I have ever heard.”

  Mary followed her cousin's advice and sat down on a nearby chair. “Very well, I am seated.”

  “The so-called ‘Mr. Haskett,’ is in fact His Grace the Duke of York.” Antoinette leaned in closely and was clearly tense with excitement. “Your teacher and suitor is secretly a Duke. Please forgive me. This is the most exciting thing which has ever happened to anyone I have ever known. I have no idea how I shall ever keep this a secret! A Duke, Mary!”