by Laura Beers
“What if she gets injured?”
“Then we call for a doctor.”
With a shake of his head, Edmund replied, “No. We will continue to keep Sybil on a strict schedule. It is what’s best for her.”
“Is it?”
Edmund frowned. “What would you have me do, mother? Let Sybil run amuck all over Harrowden Hall?”
“Now you are just putting words in my mouth.”
“I can never seem to please you, can I?” he asked defiantly.
His mother looked at him with sad eyes. “That is not fair of you to say.”
Clasping his hands behind his back, he replied, “I agreed with you that it was time for me to do my duty and marry again. I am even tasking you with finding me a bride. Doesn’t that make you happy?”
“I wish you would provide me with some input on what kind of bride you are looking for.”
Edmund waved his hand dismissively. “It matters not. Just pick one, and I will have the contract drawn up.”
His mother rose from her seat. “I want to find a bride who will make you happy.”
“I care not about that,” he replied. “I have learned that marrying for love is a futile waste of time.”
“That is a shame.”
“No, it is the reality of things.”
Adjusting the tie around her white wrapper, his mother asserted, “Your father and I were a love match.”
“That is rare in our circles; you must know that.”
“Possibly, but I am not ready yet to give up on love for you.”
Edmund pursed his lips, growing tired of this pointless conversation. Nothing he said was going to change his mother’s mind. She was adamant that he would marry for love. But how could he make her understand that he just wanted a wife who wasn’t as terrible as Alice?
He unclasped his hands and took a step back. “If you will excuse me, I am going to take my morning ride.”
“All right, but this conversation is not over,” his mother said determinedly.
With a frustrated sigh, he departed from his mother’s room, being mindful not to slam the door behind him. Why did his mother care so much about his blasted happiness? Why couldn’t she just let him wallow in his own self-loathing? It was what he wanted, and, frankly, it was what he deserved.
Dark torment crept in, threatening to drown him every time he thought about his past. He had been so sure about wanting to marry Alice, but she had betrayed him. She had taken his heart and had misused it.
Morton met him in the entry hall and informed him, “Your horse is readied and waiting out front, Your Grace.”
“Excellent,” he replied, not bothering to slow his stride.
As Morton reached to open the door, he revealed, “I should warn you that Miss Blackmore is also riding on your lands.”
Edmund’s steps faltered, and he turned to face the butler. “She is?” He glanced out the door and saw the position of the sun. It had been his experience that most ladies generally slept later in the day.
“Also, she opted not to have a groom escort her.”
Edmund’s eyes scanned the lawns. “That was rather a foolhardy thing to do, considering she isn’t familiar with these lands.”
“I tried to warn her of that, but she insisted on riding alone.”
“If she hasn’t returned by mid-day, will you inform me?”
The butler tipped his head. “Yes, Your Grace.”
Edmund stepped over to his horse and relieved the groom of the reins. Then, he mounted and took off into a run. If he happened upon Miss Blackmore, he would escort her back to Harrowden Hall. But he refused to go out of his way to look for her.
He had too much on his mind to worry about his mother’s companion.
Amelia raced her horse on a well-established path through the woodlands, ducking branches along the way. She felt the rush of excitement as she urged her horse forward, and the chestnut mare beneath her was more than willing to oblige her.
The path ended abruptly in front of a rushing stream, and she reined in her horse. She dismounted, holding the reins loosely in her hands, and led her horse to drink.
Placing her hand on the horse’s neck, she scanned her surroundings and admired the many beech trees, taking in their lovely scent. How she loved being outdoors. She could hear a woodpecker making its hollow, intermittent racket and frogs croaking near the stream. It was peaceful. It was perfect.
Suddenly, Amelia found herself growing nostalgic as she thought about how her father had taught her to swim at a pond near their country house. He had been so patient with her, despite her inability to master the simple technique for many attempts. After she had finally managed to swim the length of the pond, he had hoisted her onto his shoulders and proudly announced that she was the best swimmer he had ever seen.
She smiled at that memory, considering her father had said something similar about her two sisters. But it hadn’t mattered to her. He always made her feel special, making her believe that she could accomplish anything that she set her mind to.
How she missed her parents! Tears stung her eyes as she lowered her gaze towards the stream. She remembered everything about the moment she had been informed that her parents had been in a carriage accident. The mustiness of the drawing room, the swaying of the drapes, and the look of pity in the constable’s eyes. It was permanently etched into her mind, and she seemed to relive it every time she closed her eyes. The tears trickled down her face, but she made no attempt to wipe them away. It felt good to cry.
A man’s voice startled her out of her musings. “Are you all right, miss?” His voice was full of concern.
Amelia turned her head and saw a man on the other side of the stream. He was a tall, slender man wearing a green riding jacket, ivory waistcoat, dark trousers, and Hessian boots. His facial features were rather harsh, with narrow eyes and a sharp nose, making him oddly attractive.
How had he crept up on her without her knowing?
“I am well,” she replied, swiping at the tears on her cheeks.
He didn’t appear convinced by her response and said gently, “I can’t help but notice that you have been crying.”
“I have, but it was just a moment of weakness, I assure you.”
“Crying is not a sign of weakness,” he responded. “My mother always said a good cry is needed every so often.”
Amelia smiled weakly. “Your mother sounds exceptionally wise.”
“She is.” A wistful look came to his face before he shifted his gaze towards the stream. “I heard you as I was passing through, and I was worried that you might be in distress.”
“I thank you kindly for your concern, but I am well.”
“I am relieved to hear that.”
They stood there, staring at each other for several awkward moments.
“My apologies. Where are my manners?” he asked with a slight bow. “My name is Mr. Evan Rawlings, and this stream divides His Grace’s land from my own.” He chuckled. “Although, I should note that it isn’t as large, but it boasts a modest profit every year.”
Keeping her hands on the reins, she dipped into a slight curtsy. “My name is Miss Amelia Blackmore.”
“Are you His Grace’s betrothed?”
She shook her head vehemently. “Good heavens, no,” she replied. “I am just the duchess’s companion.”
“I must admit that I am relieved to hear that.”
“You are?”
Mr. Rawlings opened his mouth and then closed it. Finally, he said, “I must urge you to be cautious at Harrowden Hall.”
“Meaning?”
“All is not what it seems there.”
Mr. Rawlings turned to leave but stopped when she insisted, “Please don’t go yet. I must know what you are referring to.”
Placing a hand on a nearby beech tree, he let out a soft sigh. “The duchess used to go riding in these woodlands nearly every morning and we eventually struck up a friendship.”
“What was the duch
ess like?”
“Lonely,” he replied swiftly.
“She told you that?”
Mr. Rawlings nodded. “She informed me of that and many other things. But when the duke found out about our friendship, he was furious and forbade her from riding in these woods.”
“He forbade her?”
“That is what the duke does,” Mr. Rawlings replied. “He tries to control everybody around him, and he won’t tolerate anyone defying him.”
“And if they do defy him?”
Mr. Rawlings pursed his lips. “I have said too much,” he said, taking a step back. “But you must trust me on this.”
“Trust you on what, exactly?”
“Be wary of the duke.”
Amelia watched as he turned and disappeared into the trees. What did he mean that she should be wary of the duke?
She led her horse over to a fallen tree and used it to mount. Turning her horse back in the direction from whence she came, she kicked it into a run as Mr. Rawlings’s words kept replaying in her mind.
Be wary of the duke.
What exactly did she know about the duke? He may be cantankerous and high-handed, but he had never given her a reason to fear him. So why should she be cautious of him?
Amelia had just cleared the trees when she saw His Grace approaching her on his black steed. He had an enraged look on his face as he reined in his horse next to her.
“What were you doing in the woodlands?” he demanded, his nostrils flaring.
Glancing back at the trees, she replied, “I was just exploring.”
“They are off-limits, to you and everyone!” he exclaimed.
She tightened her hold on her reins. “I hadn’t realized, Your Grace.”
His jaw was clenched tightly as he said, “Come. I will escort you back to Harrowden Hall.” He turned his horse towards the manor and kicked it into a run.
She followed behind him, wondering why he was so upset about her being in the woodlands. After all, she had remained on his lands.
They both reined in on the gravel drive and two grooms raced out to secure their horses. As she followed the duke to the main door, he spun back around with a stern look on his face and asked, “Did you speak to anyone in the woods?”
“No,” she lied, taking a step back to create more distance between them.
His eyes narrowed. “Why do I not believe you?”
“I cannot say, Your Grace,” she replied, holding her breath.
The duke took a commanding step closer to her. “You will follow the rules of the estate or you will be dismissed, Miss Blackmore.”
“I understand.”
“Excellent,” he muttered. “You may have been used to getting your way before, but your circumstances have changed.”
“In what way?”
“It’s obvious you have fallen upon hard times, which has forced you to seek employment.” He took another step towards her. “And now you work for me.”
“I work for the duchess,” she replied defiantly as she tilted her head to look up at him.
A self-satisfied smirk came to his face. “But I pay your wages. Therefore, you work for me.”
Amelia stiffened at his pretentious attitude, but she refused to be cowed by him. “You are an insufferable man.”
Shock registered in his amber-colored eyes before he blinked it away. “If you find me so insufferable, then you are welcome to quit at any time.”
“No.”
“Why ever not?”
Her lips twitched. “I refuse to give you the satisfaction of winning, Your Grace.” She dropped into a curtsy and brushed past him.
As she stepped into the entry hall, she heard the duke exclaim, “We are not done here, Miss Blackmore!”
“Yes, we are!” she shouted over her shoulder.
Amelia hurried up the stairs and headed towards her bedchamber. Once she stepped inside, she closed the door and leaned her back against it.
Perhaps it was time for her to inform the duchess that she would be unable to secure a match for the duke. He was truly insufferable. And she wouldn’t wish for her worst enemy to be tied to that man.
4
Edmund watched as Miss Blackmore raced up the steps and ignored Morton, who was standing there with his mouth gaping open. No one dared to defy the duke, except for his mother’s vexing companion. He should follow her up the stairs and dismiss her for her insubordination, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He had promised his mother that he wouldn’t.
But he would ensure his mother did.
“Inform my mother that I wish to speak to her at once!” Edmund ordered, his voice echoing off the walls.
He stormed towards his study and went around his desk. As he sat down, Morton stepped into the room with a letter in his hand.
“A letter was delivered when you were on your ride,” the butler informed him as he extended him the note. “I thought you would care to see it right away.”
Edmund unfolded the paper, read it, and decisively crumbled it in his hand. Apparently, the nurse he had recently hired had decided to seek employment elsewhere. Now he would have to start the blasted process all over again.
“I need to see Mrs. Harris right away,” Edmund barked.
Morton tipped his head in acknowledgement before he departed from the room.
Edmund slid open the desk drawer and removed a file with all the potential candidates for the position of nurse. Mrs. Harris had offered to handle the hiring of the nurse, but for some inexplicable reason, he felt it was his duty to hire the staff for Sybil.
Placing the file in front of him, he pulled out some correspondence from a woman who had ten years of experience as a nurse. A Miss Olivia Long. Her letter was concise, and her references were impeccable. She would be a good replacement, he decided.
His housekeeper’s voice came from the doorway. “You wished to see me, Your Grace.”
Edmund waved her in before revealing, “I am disappointed to report that Miss Rowe has decided to seek out employment elsewhere.”
“Did she state a reason?” Mrs. Harris asked as she approached his desk. Her silver hair was pulled neatly away from her face in a tight bun.
“No, she did not.”
“That is most unfortunate. She was supposed to arrive today.”
He extended the paper in his hand towards his housekeeper. “What do you think of Miss Olivia Long?”
Mrs. Harris took a moment to review the letter. “She seems like a fine candidate,” she said.
“I concur. Will you write to her and offer her a bonus if she arrives promptly?”
“As you wish, Your Grace,” she replied. “Will there be anything else?”
Edmund leaned back in his chair. “Who is tending to Lady Sybil now?”
“I have assigned two maids to care for Lady Sybil,” she explained. “Sophia is with her during the day and Maria is on duty at night.”
“Are they aware of Lady Sybil’s strict schedule?”
The housekeeper bobbed her head. “They most certainly are.”
“Excellent,” he muttered. “That will be all.”
Mrs. Harris dropped into a slight curtsy before promptly leaving the room.
He closed the file and placed it back into the desk drawer. With any luck, Miss Long would be a perfect fit, and he wouldn’t need to hire a nurse ever again. He looked forward to the time when he could send Sybil off to boarding school.
Edmund had just reached for the pile of correspondence when his mother walked into the room, a frown of disapproval marring her features.
“Why did you feel the need to summon me?”
He placed the pile down and said, “You need to fire Miss Blackmore.”
His mother sighed. “Not this again. I thought we laid this to rest this morning.”
“I found her leaving the woodlands this morning,” he explained. “Everyone knows the woodlands are off-limits.”
His mother lifted her brow. “Did anyone inform Miss Blackmor
e of this?”
Edmund frowned. “I’m not entirely sure.”
“Then it was just an honest mistake,” she said with a wave of her hand. “No harm done.”
He rose from his desk. “She also insulted me in front of the staff.”
His mother stepped closer to the desk. “That was wrong of her,” she acknowledged, “and I shall speak to her about that.”
“You should dismiss her.”
“No.”
Edmund stared at his mother in disbelief. “What is so special about Miss Blackmore?”
“She is a charming young woman and—”
“I feel as if you have been deceived,” he said, speaking over her.
“I don’t believe I have,” his mother remarked. “Perhaps your judgement has clouded your opinion of Miss Blackmore.”
“That is not what is happening here,” Edmund insisted. “Did you know that she brought a lady’s maid with her?”
“I did.”
“Don’t you find that rather odd?”
“Not particularly,” his mother replied. “Regardless, Miss Blackmore is not going anywhere for the time being, so you may as well accept that and try to get along with her.”
“I have no intention of getting to know her,” he stated. “She is a foolish, headstrong girl that needs to learn her place.”
His mother gave him a frustrated look. “Will you please at least attempt to be civil around her?” she asked, her voice strained.
Edmund pressed his lips together and nodded. He knew he could not deny his mother’s request.
“Thank you, son.” She smiled. “Now I will go chide Miss Blackmore for her inappropriate behavior.”
“See that you do.”
Morton appeared in the doorway and announced, “Mr. Ridout is here to see you, Your Grace.”
“Please show him in,” he ordered.
“And that is my cue to leave,” his mother said, walking towards the open door. “I will see you at dinner this evening, won’t I?”
“I will be there, but will you inform Miss Blackmore to refrain from asking so many blasted questions?” Edmund grumbled.
His mother smiled. “I will speak to her about that, as well.”
