Kind Ella and the Charming Duke

by Bridget Barton

  But perhaps that was just a little competition between sisters, for they seemed to look at each other as much as they looked at him.

  “Yes, Patience and Georgiana Belville.”

  “Very good. And who are the remaining three young ladies?”

  “Laura Savile, daughter of the Earl of Lockridge.” Henry repositioned his pince-nez on the bridge of his nose. “Very beautiful, Your Grace.” The ageing attorney nodded appreciatively. “Flame-haired if you remember?”

  “Oh yes, I remember. And she seemed so quiet.”

  “Yes, but I think it more a matter of poise and self-possession than shyness, Your Grace.”

  “And who else?”

  “Madeleine Kensington, daughter of Baron Kensington. Very wealthy family, Your Grace, and a very fine old family too.”

  “Yes, I remember speaking with her.” Rufus smiled as his heart plummeted.

  Madeleine Kensington reminded him greatly of Eleanor Camden; a beautiful and confident young woman with her eye on a major prize. He knew he might be condemning her without evidence, but her presence had drawn to mind the old, overheard conversation of so many years ago, and he could easily imagine Madeleine Kensington taking Eleanor’s part with ease.

  “And finally, we have Caroline Gainsborough, daughter of the Earl of Mortcombe. A most accomplished young lady who is extraordinarily popular in society. She is much in demand currently and seems to be an absolute must at every gathering.”

  Rufus could find no real objection to Caroline Gainsborough, although he had spent little time in her company the previous evening. But she had been engaging and had taken her part in the conversation without saying too much or too little.

  She seemed to be very clever at gauging the society she was in, and Rufus could easily see how a young woman like that would be much in demand. He could also see how a young woman like that would be a great benefit to the Duchy.

  And yet, even though he had but five women to choose between, he could think of only one.

  “I must say, Henry, this really is a fine list indeed.” Rufus was not one bit interested in any of the young ladies they had discussed.

  In fact, it was true to say that he was not interested in any young lady who had attended the ball at Hillington Hall the previous night, barring the one he did not know.

  Still, he was desiring someone who was nothing more than a ghost, a phantom . Someone he had never met before and would likely never meet again. And, of course, none of that was Henry Mercer’s fault. He had only done exactly what Rufus had asked of him, and he had done it very well indeed.

  “So, shall I make a few inroads, Your Grace? Set up an afternoon tea here and there, with your permission?” Henry removed his pince-nez altogether and rubbed absently at the bridge of his nose.

  “By all means, Henry.” Rufus rose to his feet and stretched, clearly getting ready to leave his attorney in the dark, oak-panelled study. “And thank you, your efforts are most appreciated.”

  “You are welcome, Your Grace.”

  “Now, if you will excuse me, I think I will take a turn around the grounds,” Rufus said nonchalantly, his voice belying the fact that he wanted to get out of the study, away into the cool air of the spring morning.

  Without words, Henry Mercer rose to his feet and graciously inclined his head before the Duke took his leave.

  Rufus left the hall wearing a thick brown tailcoat which did not suit the rest of his attire at all. But it was a very cold morning, the sort of morning upon which he would always favour the battered old coat.

  With his golden retriever, Archie, bounding excitedly ahead of him, Rufus struck out across the lawns, risking the scorn of the head gardener as he took the shortest route towards the woodlands.

  There was something about the woods on his estate; they were so thick and vast. Once he was inside, he always felt that he had achieved complete privacy. As the Duke, he could go wherever he liked, that was true, and he could demand to be there alone. But it was a natural sort of solitude in the thick of the trees and bushes, making it a place where he always, absolutely , felt like himself again.

  As he walked, Rufus stooped more than once to gather up fallen branches and thick twigs of suitable size, throwing them one by one through the trees for Archie to chase. The activity was as fortifying to Rufus as it was to Archie, seeming to take his mind off his quandary.

  He knew that it would do him no good to continually think of the strange young woman from the night before. She had decided to remain a stranger to him, and that was unlikely to change, especially given the manner of her exit. In many ways, he wished he had never met her at all, for her very existence on the earth was going to make it even more difficult for him to settle for one of the other young ladies that his dear old attorney had identified as most suitable.

  He sighed and stooped again, reaching out for another piece of twisted, fallen branch, just the right size for Archie to retrieve when he threw it.

  However, as he reached for the stick, Rufus’ eye was drawn to something golden on the ground just a few feet away, something partially hidden beneath fallen foliage. He hurriedly threw the stick for the golden retriever, whose impatience seemed to be growing exponentially, and then hastened to pick up the object.

  The moment he had it in his hand, Rufus knew exactly what he was looking at. It was, without a shadow of a doubt, the same mask that his unidentified adventuress had been wearing the night before.

  “Who are you?” He said under his breath as he stared into the empty, sightless sockets of the mask’s eye holes. “Who are you?”

  Chapter 9

  The fire in the morning room at Dandridge Hall was set, but not lit. Nobody had used the room that morning, and so the servants, quite rightly, had not put a match to the kindling.

  Of all the rooms at Dandridge Hall, the morning room seemed to be much underused. Not only that, but it lacked the somewhat dedicated attention to detail that the rest of the house enjoyed. But for Ella, that was part of its charm. It was a room in which she felt at home, for it had that certain warm imperfection that had always reigned supreme at Longton Manor.

  It was nicely decorated, but perhaps just a little shabby in comparison to the rest of the house. But therein seemed to lay its comfort somehow, not to mention the fact that it was not used by either Ronald Belville or his daughters.

  Her mother had begun to use it when they had first moved in all those weeks ago, but she had quickly abandoned it in favour of other rooms which were better appointed. But at first, she had used it as a place to sit quietly and write her correspondence, check the menus, and deal with other little household matters.

  But the room, despite being the morning room, was not well orientated. It did not get the full sunshine in the morning, as just such a room ought to. There were other rooms on the other side of the hall which were much better placed to have been appointed as the official morning room. And Ariadne, wasting no time, had identified just the room she wanted to use instead, leaving the old morning room to almost the sole use of her daughter.

  Ella did not want to call one of the maids to light the fire. She enjoyed the solitude of the morning room and did not want to announce her frequent use of it by causing a fuss. As much as Patience and Georgiana would be little interested in the place, she felt sure that if they knew what a great refuge she had begun to find it, they would do something to upset it all.

  Whilst they were not interested in Ella and her life, they were certainly spiteful enough to amuse themselves for a few moments in upsetting her day.

  Ella rose from the ageing, comfortable russet -coloured couch and made her way to the fireplace. There was a small and ornate golden box on the mantle shelf and, when she lifted its lid, Ella was pleased to find that it did, indeed, contain matches.

  Although the door to the room was closed, she could not help looking over her shoulder to check that she had no witness to the fact that she was lighting the fire herself. It was not something t
hat she had done before, although she had watched her old maid at Longton Manor perform the task many times.

  Without much hope of success, Ella was pleasantly surprised when the paper caught instantly and very quickly had the kindling alight too. She threw the match onto the fire and hurriedly returned to her seat on the couch, picking up her book without reading it so that she would look as if she was well established in the room if anybody deigned to enter.

  The morning room was not large, and she was pleased to feel the warmth from the fire take effect within a matter of minutes. Still, she kept the warm woollen blanket over her knees, finding it more of a comfort than anything else.

  Looking down at her book, she thought she would, perhaps, turn her attention to it for just a little while. However, at that moment, there was a light tap on the door.

  Ella turned in her seat as the door opened, and Violet peered around the edge.

  “Oh, Violet,” Ella said brightly. “Come in, come in.”

  Violet, small, neat and pretty, hurried into the room, and Ella could see that she was carrying a small, round silver tray.

  “I took the liberty of bringing you some tea, Miss Winfield.” Violet quickly set the tray down on the low side table next to the couch where Ella sat. “It is just that I have taken tea into the drawing room and realized that you were no longer there. I did not want you to miss out, Miss Winfield.”

  “Oh, Violet, how very kind of you. And how thoughtful.”

  “I knew you would be in here,” Violet said with a secret smile. “But I would have lit the fire for you,” she said, looking over to the fireplace.

  “I must admit to feeling somewhat proud of myself that the thing is going at all,” Ella said with a laugh. “But I suppose that is because it was set very well, and my part in the whole thing was, in the end, quite minimal.”

  “If you like it in here, I will make sure that the fire is lit after breakfast every day.”

  “What would I do without you?” Ella said truthfully. “Really, it is no lie to tell you that you are the only person here who pays me any kindness whatsoever. You and William that is.”

  “William is still riding on a wave of excitement after last week’s excursion, Miss Winfield,” Violet said in a whisper and looked back towards the door, just as Ella had done minutes before. “He cannot get over it; he really does enjoy a good adventure.”

  “That is good to know, especially if I ever plan to have another one.” Ella smiled brightly. “I just hope that the opportunity arises. I do not have much to look forward to living in this house.”

  “I know, Miss Winfield,” Violet said gently. “But you must hold onto hope. And never forget, William and I are both on your side, even if it can only be secretly.”

  “And it means more to me than I can say.”

  “I wonder if the Duke of Hillington is going to come here,” Violet said, changing the subject dramatically.

  “Really? What makes you say that?”

  “When I went into the drawing room, Lady Patience and Lady Georgiana were arguing wildly,” Violet whispered again.

  “Yes, that is why I left the drawing room in the first place. That is why I am hiding out here, Violet.”

  “They seemed to be arguing about the Duke again.” Violet was barely audible. “About which one of them he would prefer and which one of them he would marry.”

  “Well, if the poor man has any wisdom whatsoever, he will not take either one of them.”

  “Was he really as pleasant as you say, Miss Winfield?”

  “Yes, very pleasant indeed,” Ella said wistfully. “And certainly more deserving of better company in a wife than either Patience or Georgiana could provide.”

  “What a shame he had such a big black mask on, though, Miss Winfield,” Violet said, and Ella remembered how her little maid had been so excited to hear every detail of her adventure.

  “Yes, he certainly seemed to want to remain anonymous, even though all present were perfectly well aware who he was.”

  “I wonder if he is very handsome,” Violet said dreamily. “And I wonder what he thought when he returned, and you were not there. He must have thought you most mysterious.”

  “Violet, you have a much more romantic nature than I gave you credit for.” Ella laughed.

  “I have, Miss Winfield.” Violet laughed too. “Just imagine how wonderful it would be if he wanted to find you.”

  “I cannot think that he would want to find me, especially if he has realized that I was an interloper and not a properly invited guest.”

  “But perhaps that would make you even more interesting to him,” Violet said quietly once more.

  “Even if your fancy is true, Violet, there is no way for him to identify me. It is not as if we will ever meet again in such circumstances.”

  “But you might meet again here if he comes to Dandridge,” Violet said with a look on her face which suggested she had come full circle, finally remembering what it was she had meant to say in the first place. “For his attorney is to come today.”

  “Henry Mercer is to come here?” Ella sat up a little straighter as she remembered the kindly looking older gentleman from the masquerade ball.

  “Yes, he is due to come out sometime this morning. He might even be here already. I had supposed that was why Lady Patience and Lady Georgiana were arguing over the Duke. I thought that perhaps his Lordship had mentioned the attorney’s visit to them.”

  “And how do you know of it?”

  “Because I heard the butler telling one of the other maids to make sure that the study was in good order this morning, for the Earl was to have a visit from the Duke of Hillington’s attorney.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “So, perhaps the Duke might be coming here after all. If he is still searching for a wife, then he might even come to afternoon tea. You might find yourself in his company again.”

  “Yes, you might be right,” Ella said and could not work out quite how she felt about that.

  “I had better go, Miss Winfield before the housekeeper realizes I am missing.”

  “Of course, Violet. And thank you again; the tea was really very thoughtful.”

  Once Violet had gone, Ella poured herself some of the strong tea. The room had warmed up beautifully, and she felt suddenly very relaxed. She knew that Violet’s kindness had gone some way to creating that feeling.

  Much apart from being so kind and caring, Violet was a very good ally to have. She was quietly observant and always brave enough to tell Ella what she had seen or heard.

  And it all got Ella thinking, wondering if the Duke really would attend Dandridge Hall. And if he did come to afternoon tea, would he recognize her? Her thick brown hair would be straight, of course, barring a few curls around her face. Would that be enough to disguise her?

  She wished she still had the mask so that she could put it up against her face and remind herself just how unrecognizable she had been. It would certainly provide a little comfort to her if the Duke really did attend Dandridge.

  But, despite her misgivings and the little, irrational fear that her prior act might be discovered, Ella could not help feeling a little excited by the idea of seeing him again. Or, indeed, seeing him for the first time. She still had no idea what the Duke of Hillington looked like, barring his coal-like dark eyes and his almost black hair. He was older than her, she already knew that much, but he had seemed fit and robust, almost like a man of her own age.

  Suddenly, Ella needed to know. She needed to satisfy both feelings, the fearful one, and the excited one, by knowing if he really was to attend Dandridge Hall.

  Feeling the spirit of adventure overtake her once again, she determined to creep over to the east side of the hall to where she knew her stepfather’s study to be. There were several other little-used rooms around it and, if she was careful, she could dart away into one of them and hide if the Earl and his visitor happened to come out suddenly.

  Gulping down the rest of her tea in
a most unladylike fashion, Ella was suddenly very keen to be on her way. She knew, in part, that it was because she did not want her sudden high spirit to falter, or her courage to depart. She wanted to make her way quickly and quietly to the east side of the hall and find out whatever she could about the Duke and his intentions.

  When she came out of the morning room, it was to find the corridor empty. She darted along the corridor and through the entrance hall, passing the door to the drawing room as quietly as possible. She could hear the slightly raised voices of her step-sisters and, when she heard her mother’s attempt at a soothing tone, she knew that all three were accounted for.

  Wasting no time, she hurried past and continued through the long corridor which led to the east wing of Dandridge Hall.