Finding the Duke's Heir: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 7)

by Arietta Richmond

  “I will tell you this evening – we can have our usual coze after dinner, can’t we? You do have time for that?”

  “Certainly – I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  At that moment, they heard the door being opened, and voices sounded in the foyer. Lady Sylvia immediately recognised the Duke’s voice, and her traitorous heart sped up, and her cheeks flushed yet again. She rapidly turned away, hoping that Charlton had not noticed.

  “I can hear that my guest has arrived, I must go and greet him.”

  “Of course.”

  Charlton watched his mother’s retreating back. That had been, unquestionably, a flush on her cheeks, just then, at the end. How very interesting.

  ~~~~~

  Julian stepped into the now familiar foyer, and handed Clarick his hat.

  Lady Pendholm came hurrying down the hall, looking flushed. It rather suited her. But then, he admitted to himself, he found her appealing in any circumstance. At almost the same moment, Lady Farnsworth descended the stairs.

  “Welcome, Your Grace, delightful to see you again.”

  “And you. You are both looking charming, as always.”

  Julian internally winced at the inanity of his conversation – surely he could produce a better compliment than that! The Ladies appeared quite happy however, and he was soon sitting in one of the parlours, whilst tea was served. As they settled in he heard another arrival at the door and raised an enquiring eyebrow at Lady Pendholm. She shook her head.

  “Not anyone we need be concerned about. That will, most likely, be Baron Setford, to see my son.”

  Lady Sylvia apparently expected no response, as she turned her attention back to serving the tea and cakes.

  Once the requirements of politeness were met, and they were each supplied with a plate of dainty cakes and a cup of excellent tea, conversation could begin in earnest.

  “Lady Pendholm, how well have we progressed with discovering girls in need of help? I am afraid that I have been somewhat distracted by other matters this last few days, and have not had a chance to visit Ebury Street.”

  And, as a consequence, her had not seen Lady Sylvia for some days either. A fact which had bothered him, no matter how important the search for Marion was.

  He found himself missing her, missing the cheerful and forthright way that she approached everything, and the spark of mischievous amusement that came so easily to her green-brown eyes.

  “Oh, we are doing very well. The word seems to be spreading. It has helped a lot that the first few girls have settled in so well, during this last week. Others hear of it now, and trust that we genuinely will help. I must thank you again for finding Jane and her daughter – they have been a marvellous help!”

  Lady Sylvia’s eyes shone with enthusiasm as she spoke, and her tea had been abandoned to the side table. Lady Farnsworth nodded her agreement. Placing her teacup and plate carefully to one side, she considered a moment before speaking.

  “It troubles me so, that I had never thought to do anything like this until dear Lady Sylvia suggested it. The tales these girls have to tell. We have ten more girls now, who will move in to our houses in the next few days. All of them, every single one, have babes – from tiny, to three years old or so – that are the result of situations where their employers forced their attentions on the girls. These cads that we see as gentlemen have no conscience – they don’t care if the girls are willing or not, all they care about is their own lust!”

  Lady Farnsworth’s voice had risen as she spoke, her indignation clear in her tone. She shook her head, and delivered one final comment.

  “I am dashed tempted to blackmail the dastards into donating to the care of their children. I am sure that the threat of their deeds being revealed to the ton would be a motivating force. It would only be justice should they be forced to pay for their unthinking behaviour!”

  “Whilst I can appreciate the sentiment, Lady Farnsworth, I feel that, perhaps, blackmail is a pursuit unsuited to a Lady?”

  Julian made no attempt to hide his amusement at her idea – she was a strong woman, not afraid of voicing her opinions – he could well imagine her actually carrying out her threats – both to blackmail the men in question, and to destroy them with gossip should they not comply.

  They spent a pleasant hour or two after that, discussing the way in which they would deal with the new girls, the staff that might be needed, and the best way to approach the next stages of their work.

  Lady Sylvia had concluded that they would need to employ a doctor, for many of the girls or their children were ill, from living in such terrible conditions.

  “But we must find a young doctor – one with more progressive ideas – I’ll not hear of the girls being bled, or any other terrible so-called treatment! And a man who believes in cleanliness. My son and his friends have told me of doctoring in the wars, and the fact that those kept cleanest were most likely to survive. I trust their opinions.”

  “Certainly, my Lady. I will get Burrowes to see if he can find someone suitable.”

  ‘Thank you, Your Grace.”

  Lady Sylvia’s eyes met his, and Julian forgot everything else for a moment. How he wished that he had met a woman like her, all those years ago, before he had been foolish enough to marry Antonia! The more he saw of her, the more attracted he was. Yet what could he do? He would not behave like a callow youth and court her attentions outrageously. And he had no idea what she thought of him, anyway. It was wisest simply to appreciate, without acting on it.

  Perhaps, once Marion was found, he would have time to think of other things.

  ~~~~~

  Baron Setford was well known at Pendholm House, and was shown into the appropriate parlour without ceremony, and coffee to his exacting tastes was delivered shortly thereafter.

  He settled into a chair, which was placed near the panels that divided the room from another, and surveyed the scene before him. It was habit to choose a place to sit that gave him oversight of everything about him, although these days his life was relatively safe.

  “The coffee is excellent, as usual, Charlton. Do let your staff know that they have done well.”

  “Of course – it’s a matter of pride with them, to please you with the coffee.”

  Setford laughed.

  “Then you have good staff m’boy, indeed. But now to discuss what I called you up to town for.”

  “I admit I’m intrigued. I know that you don’t ask lightly.”

  “I need you to keep your ear to the ground. I am asking the others too. You’ll be aware of the ongoing rumblings about trade sanctions, coming from America, I suspect, if you’ve spoken to Raphael recently?”

  “Indeed, and some talk of yet another treaty I believe – this time to sort out the boundary issues?”

  “Yes. I’ve news from the Americas of the mood over there. But I need to know who, here, may support a new treaty, and who may not. Best to know the lay of the land well, before any negotiation begins. As a nation, we have never been happy about potentially giving away territory, even if we gain some in the process.”

  “Always wise to be informed. When do you hope for information?”

  “There is no rush – after all, the earliest that there will be approval of starting negotiation seriously is January. But just pay attention to what the peers are saying – I’m sure that there will be plenty of quiet discussion in the clubs, or at social events, over the next few months.”

  “I can certainly do that.”

  Charlton sipped at his coffee, and the two sat in silence for a moment, savouring the bitter drink. As they did, Setford’s acute hearing caught a raised voice from the next room. Lady Farnsworth, if he wasn’t mistaken. It seemed that she was lamenting the peccadilloes of the men of the ton. Her opinion rather aligned with his own, however useful it had been to him at times, that men talked to their mistresses.

  Her next words, however, caught him by surprise.

  Enough so that he almost choked on
his mouthful of coffee.

  She said, if he’d heard it aright, ‘I am dashed tempted to blackmail the dastards into donating to the care of their children. I am sure that the threat of their deeds being revealed to the ton would be a motivating force. It would only be justice should they be forced to pay for their unthinking behaviour!’.

  The woman was a treasure. He’d always appreciated her dry wit, especially as she managed to be sharp as a knife without ever being truly mean spirited, but her comment was remarkable. And tempting. She obviously cared a great deal about the issue, or she wouldn’t be raising her voice so when discussing it. And, well, a little bit of blackmail was sometimes an ordinary part of his business.

  He wondered who the ‘unfortunate’ transgressors were – perhaps he could facilitate her desire for their punishment, and serve his own purposes too.

  He would, most certainly, be sure to make time to see Lady Farnsworth in the near future. He went back to sipping coffee, and considering who he most wanted Charlton to assess.

  ~~~~~

  The Duke departed, having, apparently, some other business to see to, leaving Lady Sylvia with Lady Farnsworth.

  Lady Farnsworth finished her now cold tea, and decided that it was time she spoke up.

  “Rather a different sort of man, the Duke, isn’t he?”

  ‘Err… Um, yes, I suppose he is.”

  Lady Sylvia flushed again as she spoke, her cheeks feeling alarmingly hot. He was, she thought, definitely a very different sort of man. He was one who could raise in her something that she could only describe, if she were honest, as desire. Which was delicious, and frightening.

  “You’ve become fond of him, haven’t you, my dear Sylvia. No, no, don’t start denying it. You are blushing like a young girl, and I am quite capable of noticing how much less articulate than normal you become in his presence.”

  “I… I don’t know what to say.”

  “Then don’t say anything. It’s your life, my dear. But, if you want my opinion, it’s about time you enjoyed yourself. All those years with old William, then that terrible scandal with Michael’s behaviour and his death, then all the fuss of two weddings in such a short time, plus caring for the girls and getting this project running – all you’ve done is live for others. It’s time you did something for yourself. And the something that just walked out that door would be an excellent choice.”

  Over the next few weeks, Lady Farnsworth’s words came back to Lady Sylvia at odd moments. Anna was a dear friend, but… was she right? Would admitting her feelings to the Duke be wise? She didn’t know.

  Her days were filled with hours spent at Ebury Street, going from house to house, spending time with all of the rescued girls, coming to know them, and their children. She also spent many hours at the house owned by the Duke, with Jane and Marion. They had established a schoolroom there, and were beginning to teach the girls the things they would need to survive better in the world.

  That had meant many hours of planning, whilst they discussed how best to go about it, often sitting in the parlour with Daniel playing on the rug at their feet. The more Lady Sylvia saw of the boy, the more she liked him. There was just something about him, as if he faintly reminded her of someone she knew – perhaps her own children when they were small?

  Marion was proving absolutely delightful – quick and intelligent, yet careful and considered about things. But there was something that puzzled Lady Sylvia. She was sure that Marion harboured a secret. Something bigger than just the identity of Daniel’s father, but something perhaps related to that. And, oddest of all, she had the distinct impression that Perryman and Abby knew something of it.

  Nothing was said, but they seemed, somehow, to know what Marion needed, they seemed, in fact, to treat her with a kind of subtle deference, beyond that which they offered to Jane. Lady Sylvia scented a mystery – and she could no more let such a thing alone than her daughter Harriet could – an obsession for uncovering the hidden appeared to run in the family.

  She decided that, one day soon, she would ask Marion about it.

  The Duke also came to Ebury Street almost every day, and, somehow, no matter where she was, or what she was doing, Lady Sylvia ended up spending time with him. He generally found her in one of the other houses, rather than the one he owned, and he had never yet interrupted her meetings with Marion and Jane. If she were to be vain, she would almost think that he was seeking her out, simply to spend time in her presence, with few other people nearby. Which idea was, almost certainly, poppycock, and the result of her own wishful thinking. Still, there was no reason she shouldn’t enjoy his presence while she could.

  Two weeks passed, in a whirl of activity, and Lady Sylvia found herself looking forward to every moment that she spent in his company.

  She even dreamed about him, rather scandalous dreams, that brought her awake feeling overly warm. She dreamed of sensations that she had almost never felt in her life, dutiful though she had been to William’s needs. Discovering such sensations at her age was a very confusing experience, yet one she secretly delighted in. She wondered, each day, if she really did see a warmth greater than simple friendship in his eyes, or if she deceived herself. She had no answer.

  To distract herself, she spent more time with Marion, observing closely, trying to find some clue to the mystery that surrounded her. Nothing came clear.

  One afternoon, when Abby had taken Daniel up for a nap, and Jane was at one of the other houses, Lady Sylvia sat with Marion in the parlour. They had been discussing the girls’ progress with reading, when Lady Sylvia made a decision. When Marion had finished her report on the girls, Lady Sylvia turned to her, and simply asked.

  “Marion, I know, my dear, that there is something you are keeping secret. Something concerning young Daniel’s father, I believe, but something beyond that. Something that Perryman and Abby seem to have at least an inkling about. Won’t you tell me? Can I help, in some way?”

  ~~~~~

  Marion was shocked that Lady Sylvia was so observant, and felt panic rising in her breast. Her throat closed over, and she could barely breathe for a moment. But, as the idea settled into her mind, she was deeply tempted to tell Lady Sylvia. It would be so good to speak of Martin.

  After all, even her mother did not know the truth of it. She pushed the idea aside, fear and self-preservation making her do so.

  “A secret? Oh no, Lady Sylvia, my life is ordinary. Daniel’s father is unimportant – he cannot affect my life now. And why would you think that Perryman and Abby knew of anything? Especially when there is nothing to know.”

  “As you wish, my dear, I will respect your right to privacy, but I am quite certain that there is more to it than you say. When you are ready, I will always be available for you to talk to.”

  “Thank you, Lady Sylvia.”

  They moved on to more discussion of teaching the girls, and Marion’s heartbeat slowed to normal again, her breathing easing. But the thought stayed with her. Would it be safe to tell her? If she did, would Lady Sylvia tell the Duke? From everything that she had seen, the Duke was a good man – his terrible wife, more than a year dead, could no longer touch her. Who could it harm now, if she told the truth of her situation?

  If she did, the Duke may not accept her, for she had no proof of their marriage – Martin had kept that, and she had no idea where it had ended up, for it was not to be found in the house – she had searched, in those terrible days after his death. Still she doubted that the Duke would do anything other than allow her to stay, and treat her kindly – he had proven the most caring of men, against all her expectations.

  By the time that Lady Sylvia left for the day, Marion had half convinced herself that telling Lady Sylvia would be a good idea. But only half.

  Charles had left, after reporting that he had nothing to report – still no hint of Marion’s location – he would look further, and return later. Julian turned back into his study, determined not to lose hope. He stared at the pile of papers on
his desk. It was complete. Burrowes had outdone himself. He had managed to buy every house on the opposite side of Ebury Street, for the full two blocks. All in Lady Sylvia’s name, as he had instructed.

  The thought of presenting them to her excited him – and terrified him. Such a gift, whilst ostensibly for their charity, would surely make clear to her that he held her in higher regard than simply a friend. If he spoke to her of his feelings… would she want to be with him? Was there hope for a far different future than he had previously imagined? What if she did not care for him the same way? What if he was completely misinterpreting her reactions, her speaking looks?

  Well, he would never know unless he took the step.

  No point in having purchased the houses, if he did not present them to her. If he held up his heart for destruction in the process, so be it – he had never thought himself lacking in courage. All his plans might be for nothing, yet he was past caring – he had to know if she felt for him, as he did for her.

  She would be here shortly. He had asked that she come to his home today, for their meeting, knowing that she would be alone, that Lady Farnsworth had other appointments. He straightened his cravat for the third time, and settled to wait.

  In what was all too short, and yet all too long a time, Bradshaw tapped on the door, and announced, “Lady Pendholm.”

  Julian rose, and went forward to greet her, taking her hands in his.

  “My dear Lady Pendholm, Lady Sylvia, if I may be so bold as to call you so.”

  “You may.”

  Her voice was softer than usual, he could see the pulse beating fast in her throat. Suddenly, he wished nothing more than to lean forward and place a kiss upon the soft skin there. She looked into his eyes, and then, suddenly, drew herself up, as if drawing her courage about her.

  “I… “

  “Your Gr… “

  They both began to speak at once, and stopped at once, with nervous, yet friendly laughter between them. He tried again.

  “Lady Sylvia, I may be about to make a complete fool of myself, but I find that I can no longer go on as we have been. I feel like a young man who has never spoken to a woman before, so uncertain am I at this instant. Please forgive any inelegance of speech that results.”