The Duke's Bride (The Radcliffe Family Book 1)

by Lindsay Downs

  Simon turned as his mother glided in. He offered his arm, which she accepted then escorted her to the settee partially occupied by Emma.

  “I don’t want to get involved with it until after we dine, which will be soon. That way we can study it in comfort.” He explained.

  The smile from Emma told him he was correct in waiting.

  “Emma, when are you planning to do tenant visits again?” he asked, wanting to quickly change the topic of conversation. This time when she’d go he would accompany her, for protection and to see the conditions of the cottages.

  “I had hoped tomorrow, but with the threat now laid upon us I’m not sure. As much as I don’t wish to deny the families whatever they need, as you said earlier, we must be careful.”

  “Do you know if Cook and Mrs. Lee have started to gather the items you plan to take?”

  “I believe I can answer that Simon. Emma gave me the book she takes with her to jot down who needs what. After I reviewed it I passed it along to the housekeeper who then shared it with Cook. So yes, everything will be ready,” his mother said.

  Simon turned his attention to Emma. “Then, you should keep to your routine. If this person has eyes on the palace or the paths you take, and you don’t keep to your schedule, he’ll realize something is amiss. I’ll make sure you have a groom with you.”

  “Are you sure one will suffice? Remember he had another man with him when they attacked your carriage.”

  “Yes, Emma. I, with two grooms, will parallel you in the woods. This way if he or they come after you we can pounce down on them.”

  The gong rang, announcing dinner and bringing a halt to the conversation. Simon offered to assist his mother to stand. When she shook her head, he turned to Emma who accepted his aid. With her on his arm, he waved his mother ahead, and they followed the duchess downstairs.

  With dinner finished, Simon ordered a tea tray to be brought to his office.

  “Will you be having a brandy, Your Grace?” Winston uttered.

  “No. I’ll be joining the ladies, but will later indulge in one. Bring the decanter with you, and set it on the sidebar.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Simon followed the ladies to his office. It made him a little nervous that they were whispering and seemingly ignoring him. Not until they reached the first floor did Emma smile back at him. Entering, he went directly to his desk to retrieve the report then joined the ladies, who’d taken the settee. Sitting in the chair opposite, he skimmed through the note.

  “It would seem, ladies, our fortune might be changing for the better. Hubert said he found the pistol on the battlefield near Granada, the same place where I was wounded. From what I remember, we captured about fifty soldiers and a few officers from the French dragoons.”

  “Do you think this person might have fought with them and been captured? If so, what would have happened to him?” Emma asked.

  “In some cases officers were exchanged, but there’s no way to find out if this person was one of them or not,” Simon told her.

  From the upset look in Emma’s eyes, he comprehended she was disappointed too. He glanced over to his mother and saw the same expression. If there was only some way to find out, but to the best of his knowledge there wasn’t. All the records were still in Spain and wouldn’t come back to England until the soldiers did. Considering how fierce the fighting had been before Simon returned home, it could be years.

  “Son, I know it’s too late tonight to speak with Hubert but tomorrow, if you can, find out what group he served in. From there, couldn’t we hunt down soldiers who have returned home? Maybe one of them might be able to remember.”

  “That’s very possible, and as I knew of him before I went off to the Guards I’d surmise his infantry unit came from men around here. If any of them have come back with injuries which prevented their continued fighting, as with Hubert, we might get lucky.”

  Simon thought it could be conceivable a few more were back, and even though she didn’t know it, he would wager some would be tenants of his. According to his original plan, when she made the visits he would be following but in the woods. Now he needed to change it.

  “Emma, I’ll ride Mars alongside the cart. While you’re with the ladies, I’ll talk to the men.”

  “You will have grooms following for safety, won’t you?” his mother demanded.

  “Yes.”

  Even if he did find someone who witnessed an exchange of officers, with no description, they would still be at a loss. Simon’s mind drifted back to the letters they’d barely had a chance to scratch the surface of. Could there be a clue in them? He rose and went to the table where they’d been laid out. He wasn’t surprised to hear two sets of delicately slippered feet follow him.

  “Simon, you have faith that somewhere in the letters and notes we’ll find the answer to what we seek?” his mother requested.

  “Yes. It all comes back to this mystery lady who my father might have compromised. If this is the case, we need to find out who she is.”

  “Then, I suggest we take this up in the morning or rather the afternoon as neither Emma nor you will return until after luncheon,” Laura recommended.

  Part of Simon agreed with his mother, but a stronger, more determined part understood it was only a matter of time before this man attacked another innocent person. Even if he got through only a few of the notes and letters, that would make the search easier.

  “No, Mother. As much as I agree rest for all of us is necessary, I need to look through them, even if it’s only one or two.”

  “Simon, if you’re staying then so am I, and that’s not up for debate. There’s a chance I might find something you missed. Don’t forget, if this lady wrote him, she might have been subtle in her wording which has changed for gentlemen, but for us ladies it wouldn’t,” Emma stated.

  “Something tells me it wouldn’t do to argue with you on this point, so yes, your assistance will be appreciated.”

  After an hour of pouring over the letters, Simon began to believe the answer needed wasn’t in them. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the last one onto the table. He and Emma had listed all the names they’d come across on individual sheets of foolscap. Later, they would combine them onto one sheet for his mother. As Emma and he had agreed, they would also include the date of the note or letter. This way it would be easily found if needed.

  He watched as Emma listed another name on her sheet then picked up the next letter.

  “This could be the one we’re looking for. The month and year are correct, not to mention it was written by a young lady with French parents. This I can tell by the way she phrases a few words. Interestingly, the father, who is referenced in an earlier letter, seems to be English or at least carries an English name. The wife and daughter, on the other hand, are definitely French.”

  She paused then continued-

  “It talks about them soon fleeing to Canada or maybe New Orleans depending on whatever ship they can find first. It goes on to say she believes he, Philip, is the father of the child she’s carrying.”

  Simon let out an audible sigh of relief that this problem could be coming to an end soon.

  “In the morning, before we do the tenant calls, we need to ask Mother if she remembers either the girl or her mother. If she does, then we might have an idea what this person hunting me could look like,” he stated firmly.

  “No, we keep this to ourselves until we return, otherwise she’ll pick up the search where we left off. We tell her we’ve had no success. To that end, we return all the letters to their folders, and you keep the lists in your suite. After all, of the many the rooms in the palace that’s the only one she won’t enter without your direct permission.”

  “Agreed. Now, may I escort you to your suite?”

  “Yes, you may. Remember though, there are guards at both ends of the hall,” she reminded him.

  Even though he wished to silently curse, he’d not be able to obtain a chaste kiss as he had at the m
ill. He nodded, thus accepting her decree. Picking up the letter and both lists of names, he slipped them in his jacket and offered Emma his arm. Unlike previous times, she slipped her hand down to his and interlocked their fingers.

  No sooner did they touch than he wanted more. More of her. In his arms. Glancing to make sure the door was closed, he spun her about, securing her in his hold.

  Capturing her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he gently tilted her head up. Seeing her smile, he lowered his lips to hers. As they came together he started to tease her mouth with the tip of his tongue, until she opened for him.

  Sweeping in, he tasted her, a mixture of sweetness and tea. Hearing her moan of pleasure, he slowly, so as not to frighten her, steered his hand up her side cupping her breast. Simon barely heard Emma whimper from deep within her throat, which drove him mad with desire. Compounded by her leaning in, pressing her body against his, it felt so wickedly right.

  Hearing voices in the corridor, directly outside of the office, he brought his head up. Releasing her, he took a step back.

  “My dear, Emma, please forgive me for my ungentlemanly behavior?” he pleaded softly.

  “Simon, there’s nothing to forgive. Since our briefest of a kiss earlier I’ve wanted to do it again. All I ask is that we be careful,” she whispered.

  “I agree. If my mother found out, there would be no hearing the end of it. Now, shall we retire for the evening, in separate beds?”

  “Most definitely,” she said. When they stepped onto the second floor landing, he smiled then bowed to her.

  “Until the morrow, m’ lady, for who knows what adventures it will bring.”

  Chapter Eight

  The squish-squash of Simon’s wet boots and Emma’s occasional giggle were the only sounds heard as they made their way across the cobblestoned courtyard from the stable to the palace.

  “Will you stop with that incessant tittering?” he demanded.

  “No. If you hadn’t gone into the stream to help move that tree trunk, as I suggested, then you’d not be soaked, and covered in smelly mud.”

  “You saw them struggling to drag it out so I had no choice but to help. If I didn’t they might not continue to respect me as the duke, not to mention a hard and willing worker.”

  She nodded her understanding. Regrettably, it also gave him the opportunity to look down to see how filthy he was. He wondered if Winston would allow him entrance into the ducal home.

  “I think it might be for the best if you sneak around to the kitchen door and go in that way. You can then take the servant stairs to your suite,” she recommended.

  “Lady Emma, I will not skulk into my house,” he stated as they arrived at the front steps, only to look up to see his mother glaring down at him.

  “And why is that, Your Grace? Didn’t you do that the other day when you came home without introducing yourself as the duke? Also, I remember many times in your youth when you did after ducking out of your lessons so you could go fishing or for a swim,” Laura stated, from the top step of the front portico.

  He was stunned into silence at being caught by his own mother who, along with Winston, glowered down at him.

  “That may be so, but I’m still entering through the front door,” he declared.

  “You may be the duke and master of this palace, but I’m still your mother, and you will not. Go around to the kitchen door, and take the servant stairs to your suite where Edmond awaits you with hot water and clean clothes,” Laura ordered.

  Knowing it would be useless, as well as ungentlemanly, to argue with her, Simon shrugged his shoulders, turned on his heel, and headed for the rear of the palace. He heard Emma following. Slowing so she could catch up, he glanced down to her.

  “You don’t need to enter through the kitchen door.”

  “I know, but where you go, so shall I,” Emma stated.

  “Then we shall cause another stir when we enter through the kitchen together.”

  “Something, it would seem, you’re more than familiar with than I first thought. I would love to hear about a few of those youthful adventures of yours.”

  “I can only tell you that at many dinners we had very fresh fish until my father learned were I hid my rod. The next time I snuck out I found it broken and a note from him warning me not to try slipping away without informing him or mother.”

  “Then we’ll have to find two rods, one for you and the other mine. It’s been years since I dipped a line, and would so love to do it again,” Emma told him.

  “We can do that as it’s also been a while for me.”

  Opening the door to the kitchen, he waved Emma in then followed her up the servant stairs, enjoying the gentle sway of her hips.

  “After I clean up I’ll be looking in on Harold then will be in my office, if you’d care to join me.”

  “Most definitely, as I wish to freshen up myself. If I see your mother, shall I ask her to join us also?”

  “Please. You’ll either find her in with Harold or her parlor. Give me about thirty minutes.”

  Simon waited until she arrived at the end of the south corridor, then he turned down the ducal hall and entered his suite. There he was met by a disgruntled Edmond.

  “Don’t even start in on me. Her Grace has already taken her tongue to my hide, so whatever you say will only add salt to the wounds,” he ordered.

  “Your Grace, I never would. Your bath is ready, and I’ve laid out the deep forest-green jacket with black trousers.”

  With a nod, Simon marched over to his private room and stripped out of his boots, which gave him the first real chance to examine their condition. If they could be saved, it would be a miracle, and for that to happen they’d have to be sent to the bootmaker. After freeing his pants and shirt from his body, he climbed into the bath.

  Ten minutes later with the dirt scrubbed away and his body dried off, he returned to the main part of the suite where Edmond waited by the door. Dressed, except for his cravat, he waved Edmond over to tie it for him. Helped into his jacket, and with a final glance in the mirror, he started for the door then stopped.

  “Did you have a chance to meet with Harold as he requested?”

  “Yes, and he wishes to speak with you at your earliest convenience.”

  “I’m on my way to see him.”

  “Thank you,” Edmond uttered.

  As Simon marched down the hall he was pleased at how easily Edmond had learned how he wanted things done. He quickened his pace, wishing to learn why Harold had wanted to see him. Simon knew the man was getting up in age but still had several good years of service ahead of him.

  At the door to Harold’s temporary suite he heard his mother and Emma talking to a staff member. Walking in, he noticed Harold was out of bed and sitting in a chair by the fire. Across from him sat his mother with Emma and a maid.

  “Your Grace, Lady Emma, I see your patient is doing quite well this afternoon,” he pronounced.

  “Yes, Your Grace. The duchess, allowed him up only a few moments ago with the promise he only sit there for a short while,” the maid said.

  “Good. How has he been eating?”

  “Very well, and they even allowed me a poached egg and toast for lunch,” Harold called out.

  Simon wanted to laugh on hearing him speak up, which was the entire purpose of the conversation with the others.

  “Wonderful, then you may have the same for dinner and possibly a little extra. I’ll have to see what Cook has. Now, I understand you wanted to talk to me?” Simon told Harold.

  “Yes, Your Grace. As my letters aren’t as skilled as tying the perfect cravat or assisting a duke in dressing, I humbly implored upon Her Grace to write my words down.”

  Stepping over to the blanket-wrapped man, Simon accepted a folded foolscap and opened it. As he read it he could feel his mouth open as this wasn’t what he’d ever expected. He realized most of the words were Harold’s, with a few his mother had added in to take the pain of losing him less hurtful, since
they’d been together for years. Not sure what to do, he looked, with a raised brow, for advice from his mother.

  “Respect his request,” Laura said.

  “Harold, I will accept your resignation, but first I need to learn why?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, Your Grace, I’ve enjoyed being in your service since you went to Eton. Getting shot warned me that it’s time to step aside for a younger man.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t understand?”

  “If I was a little sprier, I would have moved faster when the man raised and pointed the pistol at me. As it was, I got lucky when his horse shied.”

  Simon understood completely what the man meant as he’d seen it happen many times on the field of battle when a soldier didn’t step fast enough and got shot.

  “Your explanation is completely understood, and I agree with your decision. I’m guessing you would like Edmond to replace you?”

  “Yes. He’s very skilled. As Her Grace won’t let me leave the palace until I’m fully healed, Edmond knows he can call on me if he has a question.”

  Simon wasn’t surprised his mother had demanded Harold stay. He would have done the same thing to make sure nothing untoward happened.

  “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a few matters to discuss.”

  “Of course, and I suspect it has to do with hunting down the man who shot me?”

  With a confirming nod, Simon waited for the ladies to join him then followed them down to his office. Walking in, he noticed a tea tray with biscuits, but not raspberry tarts, on the low mahogany table in front of the settee.

  Once everyone had their cups, Simon informed the ladies what he’d learned from the tenants, which had been more than he’d expected.

  “It turns out several sons were in the same company as Hubert. One of them remembered seeing and hearing a French officer who spoke English with a slight accent,” Simon started.

  “I apologize, son, for not knowing they had gone off to fight. As Emma, and now you are aware, we tend to meet with the mothers since the men are usually in the fields working. I can’t recall any of them telling me they had one of their own who went off to fight. If I had, I would have told you,” his mother humbly explained.