“Thank you. I do love the color.”
The gown was a deep rose, the bodice lower than what she usually preferred. She’d tried not to feign shock the first time she caught a glimpse of herself. She hadn’t realized how out of fashion most all her wardrobe was. She would have to venture to London to remedy that situation.
There were also other matters needing her attention in London. She needed to make an appointment to meet with Roland’s solicitors. She’d already been in touch with them when she realized she would be moving to England. Though she had a good idea of what Roland had left them, she decided to stay involved. She had read every report that had come out about Roland’s businesses in England, along with his American interests. Though most women would shy away from figures and reports, Savannah welcomed them. She’d made a promise to herself when Roland died not to take any man’s word about how Roland’s investments were doing.
Many men thought woman were simply another piece of property and treated them as such. Roland had been far more forward-thinking. He knew his wife to be capable far beyond just keeping the household books. He’d known she could easily handle anything that came her way. Already, she had a list of questions to ask the solicitor when she met with him. More would follow, she was sure, as she became acquainted with her new life changes.
“You best go downstairs, my lady. The dowager countess doesn’t like anyone being late.”
Savannah nodded and placed her hand over the double strand of pearls Roland had given her for their last anniversary. Turning from the mirror, she walked across the room to the door.
A few minutes later, she stood in front of the drawing room, where a red-liveried footman opened the door. Everything was so formal here.
The dowager countess sat near the fire, a tall man with golden-brown hair talking with her. Savannah was taken with the way the red highlights in his hair shone in the firelight. He appeared to be muscular, which she thought was odd. She knew from what her husband had told her that most Englishmen preferred to spend their time indoors. The duke appeared to enjoy the outdoors. His eyes met hers for a moment before the dowager countess interrupted.
Savannah was tardy, and the censure in Lady Dorset’s eyes told her the woman didn’t approve.
“I apologize if I kept you waiting,” Savannah offered.
The dowager countess brushed her off by quickly making introductions. “Your Grace, may I present my son Roland’s widow, Mrs. Savannah Dawson.” She turned to Savannah. “Mrs. Dawson, may I present His Grace, Gabriel Armstrong, Duke of Clevedon. As you know, his Grace has graciously taken up the job of overseeing young Vincent’s upbringing.”
Savannah gazed into the angular, chiseled face of the duke. He was quite handsome, more than a man should be allowed. Never had she seen such a perfect specimen. If the duke knew how good-looking he was, he hid it well. Surely he must be used to being stared at by countless women in the ballrooms of London.
The duke took her gloved hand in his for a moment. “Mrs. Dawson. A pleasure to meet you, and my condolences on the loss of your husband. Roland was a close friend and will be missed, even if he was in America.”
“Thank you, sir...Duke...Your Grace.” Savannah knew she was fumbling over her words, and the best thing she could do was say nothing.
She sat in a dark blue damask chair and held her breath for a moment, trying to regain her composure. Why was this man so alluring? Was it because of his title, or was it his beauty? She’d practiced all afternoon over how to speak to him, the man who would help her prepare Vincent for his role as earl. Now all she was doing was fumbling, and she knew her mother-in-law would be quick to point it out later.
“Vincent is quite excited to meet you, Your Grace. It’s all he’s talked about on our ride from London.”
The duke glanced at the countess. He appeared uncomfortable about something.
“Vincent and the duke have already met. I had his governess bring him down from the nursery before he went to bed.”
She tried not to act surprised, but by the narrowing of the duke’s eyes, he recognized the dowager countess had caught her off guard. “He has? I would have liked to have said good night to my son.”
The dowager countess raised her hand in a dismissive manner. “The boy can no longer be coddled.”
“I fail to understand how my son saying good night to me is coddling him. Surely you must understand he’s in a new house, surrounded by strangers.”
“Perhaps I could accompany you to the nursery while we wait for dinner,” the duke said.
It was an unusual request, but one Savannah hoped the dowager countess would not dismiss. Not in front of their guest. Lady Dorset nodded stiffly, “Very well, go ahead. I’ll allow some leeway this time. But from here on out, Mrs. Dawson, you must agree to keep the boy on a schedule.”
“He is my son, and I will not be told when I can or cannot see him.”
She rose from her chair, nodded to the duke, and began to follow him. She knew she’d overstepped, but she would not be dismissed, nor would she be told when she would or would not be allowed to see her son. She certainly didn’t need a duke to come between her and the dowager countess. She and her mother-in-law would have to learn how to coexist. Nevertheless, the duke, having clearly assessed the situation, had interceded on her behalf.
“I can’t thank you enough, Your Grace, for doing this.”
“Don’t mention it. If we’re going to see to young Vincent’s education, we’ll have to work together, else the dowager countess will take over.”
“I know. Roland told me quite a bit about his mother, though I’m sure he never told me the entire story because he never expected any of this would have happened.”
They began walking up the stairs to the third floor where the nursery was located. “Would you have stayed in America if Timothy hadn’t been killed?” the duke asked.
“Probably. I had my family there, and they had been quite supportive until I got the news about Timothy.”
“I take it they didn’t approve of you uprooting the boy and bringing him to England?”
She smiled. “You would be right about that, Your Grace,” she replied. “Tell me, how did a man of your stature become involved in helping raise a young boy who isn’t even related to you?”
“Roland was a good friend. We’d known each other since we were very young boys. I would like to think he would have done the same for me if the situation were reversed.”
He grasped the doorknob and began to open the door leading into the nursery.
“That would mean giving up a life in America,” she said. She tried not to stare at him. He was one of the most handsome men she’d ever laid eyes on with his golden-brown hair that in the sunlight cast a hint of red. His emerald-green eyes were unlike any she’d seen before. A woman could melt under the gaze of those eyes. He was quite muscular from time spent outside, something she noted most of his peers didn’t do.
“Touché, Mrs. Dawson.”
Miss West, the governess, sitting by the fire reading a book, startled when they entered the room. “I’m afraid he’s fast asleep.”
“That’s all right,” Savannah said quietly. “I won’t wake him. He’s had a long, busy day.”
Smiling, she entered Vincent’s room and drew closer to the bed, bending down to give her young son a kiss and smooth his hair. When she straightened, she noticed the duke standing just outside the doorway. He watched her as though he were aware of the turmoil she must be going through.
She quietly closed the door and nodded to the duke. “Thank you.”
He nodded and followed her out of the room. “Shall we rejoin Lady Dorset?”
“I suppose we must. Has she really always been like this?”
“Yes, always. Once she gets to know you, she’ll warm up.”
Savannah arched a brow. “You say that with some authority, Your Grace.”
“I am well versed in how the dowager countess operates.”
“Oh?”
/> “Yes. She’s, well, complicated.”
“That’s being polite, Your Grace.”
He stifled a laugh. “I suppose you’re right.”
As they approached the drawing room door, a footman opened it, and the duke followed Savannah inside. The dowager countess sat in the same spot she’d occupied when they’d left.
“Higgins has just announced dinner is ready.” The dowager countess stood and walked toward the duke. He extended his arm to her. As the older woman placed her hand on his arm, he gazed over at Savannah, his full lips quirked up in amusement.
As per custom, the duke and countess led the way to the dining room. When they entered the room, there were three place settings at the far end. Trying to remember the protocol Roland had taught her, Savannah wondered if the duke would sit at the head of the table. There were too many rules to remember, and this was one of them. She was sure the dowager countess would remind her, and eventually, she would learn. As the mother of the earl, she had to.
Dinner wasn’t quite as long and drawn out as Savannah had imagined. Her mother-in-law probably meant to keep it shorter for not only Savannah, but their guest as well. Savannah stayed quiet, not wanting to intrude on the conversation unless asked a question. She didn’t want to give the countess any reason to publicly dress her down, as she seemed so fond of doing.
Savannah wondered if the two of them could ever be friends of some sort. For the time being, she was better off listening rather than adding too much to the conversation. Once the newness wore off and Vincent settled into a routine, she hoped the countess would back down and return to her own life. At least she could hope.
“If you have no plans for tomorrow, I thought you and Vincent could visit,” the duke said suddenly. “I have a pony chosen for him, and he could begin riding lessons.”
“That is most kind of you, Your Grace, but surely you don’t have time to personally instruct Vincent.”
“I won’t be instructing him. Bart, one of my stable boys, will start out teaching him. I thought a younger boy rather than my stable master would better suit Vincent.”
“It’s very important Vincent learn to ride,” Lady Dorset remarked. “The earlier he begins, the better, and I can’t think of anyone more suited than the duke’s staff.”
Savannah nodded. “Very well, then. I’m sure Vincent will be excited. He loves horses.”
She gazed discreetly at the duke out of the corner of her eye, watching him as he finished a lone piece of roast pheasant on his plate. She wasn’t sure what to make of him. Certainly, he and Roland had been fast friends, but her late husband had shared little about his life in England. The stories he did relate were usually about his family, but even those were few and far between. Why agree to assist in raising his son? What would happen if she were to ever remarry? Would he continue on in his role, or would he allow her new husband to take over?
These were legitimate questions, which, for now, she’d keep to herself.
***
The moment she walked into the drawing room, Gabriel was intrigued by Savannah Dawson. He could easily see how she’d caught Roland’s attention. She was beautiful with light-blonde hair and sapphire eyes, elegantly tall, and carried herself as though she were nobility. She wasn’t pale in coloring like her English counterparts. The golden tone of her skin gave evidence of a love of the outdoors.
There was one thing about Mrs. Dawson that caused him pause. She was quite uninhibited in her manner of speaking. She said what was on her mind, though he was sure she still held back a great deal. Such a trait was not something one expected in a duchess. A duchess? He brushed the very thought away. Why would such an idea even cross his mind? She was his best friend’s widow, and between them, things would always have to remain honorable and platonic.
Knowing the dowager countess, he was quite sure Mrs. Dawson’s blunt manner offended her no end, as Mrs. Dawson had already shown she could stand up to her mother-in-law when it came to her son. Gabriel wondered how long it would be before she and the dowager countess had their first real falling-out.
She was truly unlike any woman he’d ever met, and this intrigued him. He needed to get a better understanding of this creature. He didn’t want to offend her with his choices in how the boy should be raised. Vincent’s status had changed the moment his uncle died, and Gabriel wasn’t sure Mrs. Dawson understood that.
He wondered if Lady Dorset hoped to remove Mrs. Dawson from her son’s life altogether so as to remove any uncouth American influence from her grandchild’s life.
“Is everything all right, Your Grace?” he heard her trill.
He focused on Lady Dorset, hoping she hadn’t caught him staring at the young woman.
“Yes, the meal is excellent as always,” he replied smartly. He turned to Savannah. “What are American dinners like, Mrs. Dawson?”
She put her fork down on her plate and contemplated her answer. He wondered if she was merely attempting once again to be as polite as possible and not offend the countess.
“Roland and I had simple meals most of the time. The only time we might have something as fancy as this would be if we were invited to dine with someone of great influence, a politician, for example.”
Gabriel caught the dowager countess eyeing her daughter-in-law in disbelief. “I would have assumed, given my son’s station, he would have dined elaborately.”
“No, ma’am, he preferred spending his evening dining with his wife and son.”
“The boy was allowed to eat with you?” Not waiting for a reply, Lady Dorset carried on. “That is quite irregular, and I can assure you he won’t be joining us every evening. Perhaps when he’s older, but for now, he should spend his time in the nursery. Don’t you agree, Your Grace?”
Fortunately for Gabriel, he didn’t have to get in the middle of the discussion, because the boy’s mother jerked her head around to face her mother-in-law.
“Vincent isn’t a child you keep hidden away in the nursery. He’s a young boy who’s been through terrible trauma in his short life. He’s lost his father and left the only place he’s known. It is confusing, and if he wishes to dine with us rather than in the nursery, he will do so.”
Savannah turned toward him. “I apologize for my outburst, Your Grace. You see I’m rather protective of my son. Especially right now.”
He shook his head. “No need to apologize, Mrs. Dawson. You know far better than we how traumatic all this has been for young Vincent. Exactly why I suggested the pony and lessons. To occupy his mind with something else.”
“Thank you, and I believe you’re correct that keeping him occupied is a step in the right direction.”
“Excellent. We’ll begin with his riding lessons.”
“His tutor will be arriving in the next day or two, so he’ll have his studies to keep him busy as well,” the dowager countess added. It was obvious she was not fond of someone speaking so frankly to her. This could prove to be quite interesting.
Savannah’s shoulders noticeably tensed. “Who is this tutor, and what is he going to teach my son?”
“A Miss Augusta Smythe will tutor him in French and history. His nanny will see that he learns to read and write correctly,” the countess replied.
“Vincent can already read and is quite proficient in his writing and reading skills for his age. He’s a very eager student.”
“In the ten minutes he visited earlier, I could tell he’s a smart and curious young lad,” Gabriel replied.
“Shall we retire to the drawing room? Brandy, Your Grace?” Lady Dorset asked.
“Of course. Then I must be on my way. I want to make sure I’m free to take Vincent to the stables to introduce him to his pony and instructor,” Gabriel replied.
He stood and followed the ladies into the drawing room. He would make this fairly quick. Parr was waiting back at Brook Fall, and they had a chess game to play.
Gabriel enjoyed a brandy while the ladies had tea. Most of the conversation was light. He
asked Mrs. Dawson about her early life growing up in America. He’d never been, and since history fascinated him, he enjoyed hearing from someone who had actually lived there. Gabriel understood many old English customs and traditions were honored there still.
Her father was a lawyer, which was how she and Roland had met. He’d been invited to dinner, similar to this evening, and before they knew it, Roland was calling on her. Gabriel caught a glimpse of the dowager countess, who was looking rather perturbed but keeping her opinions to herself. He wondered how much of his life Roland had really shared with her. From her pinched lips, he doubted she knew much.
He rose to take his leave. “I’ll send my carriage around eleven for you and Vincent,” Gabriel said, then addressed Lady Dorset. “You’re welcome to come as well, Lady Dorset.” He smiled.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to. I’m meeting with the vicar and a few of the ladies about autumn activities.”
“Another time,” he replied. Autumn was months away, and he wondered what she was really about. Certainly, it didn’t take months to prepare for something so simple.
He bid his dinner companions good night and exited to his waiting carriage. He couldn’t get Mrs. Dawson—Savannah—out of his mind the entire ride back to Brook Fall.
Chapter Four
Parr was waiting in his library for him when he returned. The chessboard was already set up, and he sat in front of it as though he were already contemplating his strategy.
“I was about to give up on you and retire for the evening,” Parr said.
“It’s not that late, and I believe I told you I had no intention to spend any more time there than I had to.”
Parr picked up a crystal decanter. “Brandy?” he asked and began pouring into one of two snifters sitting next to the board. He sometimes irritated Gabriel with his familiarity and how he made himself at home.
Gabriel nodded, and removed his jacket and cravat. He sat down and studied the board and then Parr.
“Well, aren’t you going to ask how I found the lady?” Gabriel growled.
“I presumed you would get around to it. Did you meet the boy as well?”
Wish Upon a Duke Page 3
