Something Scandalous (2 page)

“Not any longer,” she answered. “Besides, I have quite a talent for gardening. Perhaps I can find work taking care of someone’s flowers.”

“True. But do you think anyone would hire a woman gardener?”

“Perhaps not,” Elizabeth said flatly. “I suppose there is always a governess position.”

“Yes. But the lady of the house might be suspicious that the daughter of a duke needs to look for work. She might even believe her husband is installing you as his new mistress.”

Elizabeth slammed down her teacup. The hot liquid spilled over the edge, just missing her fingers. “Then what am I to do?”

“Marry?”

She barely kept from rolling her eyes at the ever romantic Sophie. “I do not need a man.”

Sophie giggled softly. “Of course you do. Just not for what you’re thinking.”

This time she did roll her eyes. “Now you are as bad as Avis.”

“A good man in your bed cannot hurt,” Sophie replied with a slight shrug. “Think about what I said. My aunt and I would love to have you stay with us.” She stood and reached for her damp hat. “I should take my leave now.”

“Very well.”

As Sophie left, her words remained with Elizabeth.

The last thing she needed was a man interfering in her business. Most men liked nothing better than to stick their noses, and other parts, where they didn’t belong. Therefore, until she uncovered the truth of her parentage, she refused to suffer through any man’s attempt at courtship. Even then, Elizabeth doubted she would desire any man.

It just wasn’t in her.

While she found some men attractive, mostly she found them annoying. Sometimes she wondered if there was something wrong with her. After watching two of her dearest friends fall madly in love and marry, she thought she might feel as if something was missing in her life. Yet, the only thing she yearned for was the knowledge of her background.

Not knowing her father’s identity seemed to be eating at her more and more lately.

Perhaps because she knew her time in this house might soon end. Even if her cousin took over control of the house, she couldn’t stay. She wasn’t one of them.

Her heart constricted with pain. All her life, she’d been Lady Elizabeth. The daughter of the Duke of Kendal. Since the duke had never disowned her in public, no one knew the truth, except the few people who might have guessed. Even Richard and Caroline couldn’t know for certain. All they had were the obvious clues—her father had left her barely enough to survive, and with her red hair and freckles, she looked nothing like her sisters or late brother.

Elizabeth reached for her forgotten sherry and sipped a bit of the liquid. She had to come up with a plan for her future. There had to be something she could do with the little money the duke had left her.

Her only skills seemed to be mathematics and botany. Neither proficiency would bring her any income unless she taught them to young ladies. Perhaps that was the answer. Find a school for gentlewomen and teach. It would not be an exciting life but she’d had the glamour of the
ton
for the past eight years. Society became more tedious with each passing Season.

The small mahogany mantel clock chimed eleven times. Elizabeth rose to retire for the night. Most of the servants had already departed their posts for bed, but she could hear a footman in the hall. She kept one man on duty all night to protect her and her aunt.

Thankfully, her aunt had left last week for a visit with her ailing sister. That had given Elizabeth the opportunity to search her aunt’s room. Aunt Matilda had become quite impatient waiting for the duke, and wished to leave and live with her three sisters in Kent. Of course, Elizabeth would be welcome to stay with the cantankerous elderly women—a thought that made employment sound very attractive.

She walked into the hall and smiled at the tall footman. He turned and unlocked the front door.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

He looked back with a smile. “Nothing to worry about, Lady Elizabeth. I just heard a strange noise out on the street, and thought to investigate.”

“Very well, then. Good night, Kenneth.” Elizabeth stepped on the first marble tread and remembered she’d left her book in the parlor.

“Is everything all right, Lady Elizabeth?”

“I forgot my poetry book.”

“Did you leave it in the salon? I shall fetch it for you immediately,” he said before she could even reply.

She walked down the hallway behind him but stopped as the front door hurled open.

“Unbelievable,” a huge man said at the threshold. “They just leave the place unlocked at night.”

Elizabeth screamed as the strange man and several others walked in the house. “Kenneth, we have intruders!”

“Intruders?” the stranger said, shaking his head. “Lucy and Ellie, take the children upstairs and find rooms for everyone.”

“Of course,” said one of the women.

Elizabeth shouted, “Kenneth, where are you?”

“Right here, my lady,” he said from behind her. “I’m going to need some help with all of them.”

“Go wake the others,” Elizabeth said quickly. What was wrong with everyone? She walked closer to the huge man with dark brown hair and a scraggly beard wet from the rain. She stepped back quickly when she smelled him. “Get out of this house!”

Instead, the children followed the two women up the stairs.

A few of them glanced down at her and giggled. One dark-haired boy of about ten looked down at her and whispered, “Will’s gonna have to let her go. She’s just mean.”

Elizabeth glared at them all and then turned her stare to the man leaning against the banister. “You had better get those children and leave the premises before I call the night watch.”

“Call whoever you damned well want.” He took a step toward her. “Is this not the Duke of Kendal’s London residence?”

“Yes, but certainly you’re not…” her voice trailed off. No, it was inconceivable. This ruffian was far too young to be Edward.

Finally, she heard the loud stomping of footmen coming upstairs like a herd of cattle. She leveled the thug a smug look. He raised an eyebrow at her and smiled. His smile took her completely by surprise. With even white teeth and small crinkles by his eyes, the man’s smile made her heart pound.

“Get this man and his children out of my house,” she ordered the footmen.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Two of the burliest footmen in service came forward and walked toward the man.

“Your house?” he said with a stifled chuckle.

“Yes.”

“I thought this home belonged to the Duke of Kendal,” he said as the two footmen pulled his arms behind his back. “Not so rough, boys. At least not if you wish to continue to serve in this household.”

“What are you blathering about?” Elizabeth asked.

“This is the home of the Duke of Kendal. Allow me to introduce myself. William Atherton, at your service.”

Elizabeth grabbed for a baluster of the handrail. Hearing the giggles of children, she glared up at them. At her hard stare, they ran toward their rooms. All but the two eldest women, who held her glare.

William Atherton was indeed Edward’s son. His only natural born son. Edward’s heir.

While hard to determine his features with his hair to his shoulders, a beard that desperately needed a shave, and a stench that would make a seaman proud, she didn’t doubt his claim. His dark brown eyes were almost black, the exact shade of the former duke.

“Where is your father?” she asked softly.

“The good Lord took him nine months ago.”

She breathed in deeply in an attempt to gain some measure of control. Finally, she stepped away from the stairs and curtsied to him.

“Welcome home, Your Grace.”

Will finally broke away from the footmen’s tight hold. “Thank you…”

The woman’s face flushed pink. “Elizabeth, Your Grace. I am the former duke’s daughter,” she replied in a halting voice.

“I see. A cousin of mine, then.”

“Very distant, but yes.”

“Wonderful.” The last thing he needed was one more mouth to feed. The past two years had been a struggle as he attempted to keep his family from falling apart during his father’s long illness.

“Those children,” she started, glanced up the stairs, and then paused.

Watching her freckled face cringe, he almost laughed. “Yes? The children?”

“They can’t all be…”

“Mine?”

“Well, yes. I had heard you were eight when you left for America, and that was only twenty years ago…”

He walked toward a large room as she attempted to determine the source of all the children. Glancing around the room, his gaze focused on the gilt furnishings. He remembered very little of his life in England, and this was one part he must have forgotten. The opulence of the room astounded him. Red silk wallpaper lined the walls of the room, vast gilt frames with oil paintings and portraits hung from the walls. He had only heard of such wealth. Not even Abigail’s family had this much.

God, he missed her already. He had to get this nasty business completed as quickly as possible.

“Your Grace?”

“Oh, yes, the children. Perhaps I had an early start,” he said with a smile. His innocent cousin’s eyes widened.

Slowly, her lips tilted upward. “That must have been an extremely early start.”

“Considering Ellie’s nearly twenty, I do believe eight is just a bit young.”

“Your siblings, then?”

“All seven of them, plus Alicia, who stayed behind with her new husband.” Will walked farther into the room and ran his hand over the soft velvet of a wingback chair.

“Nine children? And they all survived infancy.”

He only nodded at the sound of amazement in her voice. He chuckled softly. “They include four stepbrothers from my father’s second wife.”

“Would you like something to eat, Your Grace?”

He turned back toward her and frowned. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Your Grace?”

“Yes.”

“Because you are the duke. If you were an earl, I would have addressed you as ‘my lord’.”

He shook his head. “Well, stop. I will never understand this country and its odd penchant for titles.”

She stood upright and quickly brushed a red lock back from her forehead. “It is not an odd system of titles. How long did you live in Virginia before moving to Canada?”

“Ten years. Then my father was reassigned to another diplomatic position in York near Lake Ontario, just before the war broke out.”

“I think you must have forgotten how English Society works. After all, you lived in that heathen country where no man needs a title.”

“Perhaps. But at least there, every man has the chance to better himself without needing a title to get ahead,” he said before sitting in the wingback chair.

“Your Gr—” She halted abruptly when he glared at her. Throwing up her hands in the air, she said, “Then what do I call you?”

“William, or better yet, Will.”

“Very well, William. Would you like me to awaken the cook for a quick meal?”

“I wouldn’t wish to disturb the servants.”

“The servants are here for your every convenience. Besides, I must wake the maids to make up the bedrooms. Mine is the only one ready.”

“Then yes, I would love a little something to eat. The food on the ship was not the best.”

She smiled and two small dimples creased her freckled cheeks. The woman was quite pretty with her red curls and green eyes, but when she smiled, she became absolutely radiant.

“I will return in a moment,” she said.

As she left, her slim hips swayed under the muslin of her amber gown. Listening to her give orders to the footmen, he smiled. She was obviously used to assigning tasks for the servants.

God, he hated the idea of being back in this country. If he had only surrendered his citizenship and moved to America before his father’s death. Then he would not be here. He wouldn’t be eligible for the title. Instead, he would be in Virginia with Abigail, enjoying the warmth of a late May evening.

Being an American, his stepmother had ingrained in him the ideals of freedom from tyrannical forces. How no man had the right to call himself king. The people had the right to choose their leaders, and titles should mean nothing.

While she preached to him about the importance of freedom, his father continued to speak of the duchy and their responsibility to it. Or more importantly, the opportunity it would give them financially. Once the title fell to either of them, they could give their family wealth and respect. In order for that to happen, Will had to keep his British citizenship. He’d only done it to make his father happy. What Will wanted remained in Virginia.

For the past five years, he and Abigail had faithfully written to each other monthly. Every six months, he would propose to her again, telling her that he would give up everything for her. Each time, she had another reason he shouldn’t give up his citizenship for her. During the war, their correspondence had been sporadic, but she had told him of her love for him. When the war ended, Will had begged her to come to Canada, but she told him she could not disregard her father’s feelings. After losing his only son in the war with the British, he could not lose his only daughter to an Englishman.

Not that any of that mattered. Now that he was the duke, he could do what he wanted. He was here for only one thing. Once finished, he and his siblings would be on the first ship out of England forever.

After telling the footman to awaken the servants, Elizabeth quickly walked up the stairs to organize the children. In the first room, she found the two oldest women, and a young girl who couldn’t have been more than five. The little girl gave her a shy smile.

“Good evening, ladies.”

The two older women folded their arms over their chests in unison. “Good evening,” the woman with blond hair said.

“I am your cousin, Elizabeth.”

“I’m Sarah,” the littlest girl said excitedly.

Elizabeth walked over to the girl on the bed and said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Sarah.”

Sarah giggled. “I’m not a lady yet.”

“Oh, but you are, at least I think you are. Will is your half brother, right?”

Sarah shrugged, but the other two nodded.

“Well, since your brother is now the duke, that makes you a lady,” Elizabeth replied with a smile.

The little girl giggled again and looked over at her sister. “See, Lucy. I am a lady.”

“You won’t be a lady for a very long time, Sarah,” Lucy retorted.

Elizabeth turned toward the young woman named Lucy. “And it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Lucy.”

“Thank you, Elizabeth.”

“I think she must also be a lady, Lucy,” the woman with blond hair stated.

“Are you Ellie?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes, Lady Elizabeth.”

“Well, it is a pleasure to meet you all. I have to admit, I’m a little confused about who is related to whom.”

Ellie smiled. “It is a little difficult. Will, Alicia, Lucy, and I are from the same parents. James, Michael, Ethan, and Robert are my stepbrothers. Sarah is the youngest, and she is my half sister.”

“That clears it up a little. The servants are on their way to make up the beds for you. Tomorrow we shall see about setting up a nursery for the younger children, which will free this room for you both to share.”

“You mean we don’t have to make up the beds?” Lucy whispered.

Elizabeth smiled at the sound of awe in her voice. “No, Lucy. We have servants here to attend to our needs.”

All three girls gave each other amazed looks.

“We don’t have to help cook?” Ellie asked.

“We don’t have to wash the clothes?” Lucy said at the same time.

“No. We have several servants to do all those chores.” It finally dawned on Elizabeth that they were used to doing these chores themselves. She had assumed her cousin Edward must have had money, but perhaps he hadn’t.

“Good night, ladies. I shall see you tomorrow morning.” Elizabeth walked slowly toward the door.

“What time is breakfast?” Ellie asked.

“Whenever you want it,” Elizabeth replied. “Just let the maid know if you will eat in the breakfast room, or if you want a tray in your room.”

“We can eat in our bedroom?” Sarah exclaimed.

“Yes, I do most mornings,” Elizabeth commented.

“Good night, Lady Elizabeth,” Lucy said.

Elizabeth walked out of the girls’ room and toward another room. Hearing loud voices, she knew before she opened the door that the boys were inside. She walked into the bedroom and found two of the younger boys investigating a bug in the corner of the room. They both turned as she entered the room.

“What are you two about at this hour?” she asked.

“There’s a spider,” the younger of the two answered. His hair was sandy brown and he had large blue eyes.

“And you are?”

“Robert, ma’am.”

Glancing toward the older boy with blond hair, she asked, “And you?”

“Ethan, ma’am.”

“I see. Have you two decided which bed will be yours tonight?” She walked over to where they still stood in the corner. Spying the spider, she lifted her skirts and stomped on it.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Ethan said. “It was a poor little spider. He wasn’t going to hurt anyone!”

Elizabeth inhaled deeply. She had no idea how to deal with children, especially boys. “That spider might have bitten you. And that is no way to speak to an elder.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they muttered together.

“Now, tomorrow we shall settle everyone into their permanent rooms, but for tonight, you will have to make do with the beds that are in here.”

“It doesn’t matter about the beds,” a sullen voice from the doorway said.

Elizabeth turned and looked at the older boy. “Why is that? And who are you?”

“I’m Michael. And it doesn’t matter about the spider or you or the beds or anything else.” Michael moved toward one of the beds and flopped on it, facedown.

Elizabeth stood there, unsure of what to do. Should she call for William? She had never been around young boys before now.

“Michael, we’re not going anywhere,” said an older adolescent from the corner.

Had he been in the room the entire time? She was in completely over her head. “What do you mean, Michael?”

He turned his head slightly from the pillow. “As soon as Will sells off everything, we’re moving back to America.”

“What did you say?” The boy had to be wrong. William could not sell off everything and then leave. The estates were entailed and he had responsibilities to attend to here. If he left, who would care for the tenants? Who would care for the lands?

Michael rolled onto his side and stared at her. “We’re going back. Will is going to sell off everything.”

“Oh, no, he is not,” Elizabeth said, striding toward the door. “The servants will be up in a moment with bedding. Good night.”

She slammed the door on the way out. Picking up her skirts, she raced down the marble stairs. Did the man know nothing? He couldn’t sell off the estates and return to America.

She strode into the parlor to find the duke with his feet on the mahogany table and his head tilted into the corner of the wingback chair, with his dark brown eyes shuttered and his breathing even. Her anger should have dissipated at the sight of his obvious exhaustion, but it did not.

“Get your filthy feet off my table!”

One dark brown eye stared at her. Slowly, the other eye opened and one brow arched. “
Your
table?”

She swatted at his feet. “Yes, my table.”

He placed his booted feet on the floor and sat up straight. After folding his arms over his chest, he continued to stare at her.

“Last I checked, I was the duke,” he said in a low tone. “I believe that means this house and everything in it belongs to me.”

“Hah! You are incorrect on that matter. Some of the things belong to the title, not to you.”

“It’s all the same to me,” he said with a dispassionate shrug.

“Well, you would be wrong.”

“Perhaps I am. I may have been born in this country, but it isn’t my home and never will be. For all I care, some other cousin can inherit this damned title.”

She glared at him as her anger rose higher. “But they cannot.”

“Oh?” He arched one eyebrow slightly.

“As long as you are alive,
you
are the duke. Whether you like the idea or not,” she retorted.

How dare this man think he could dismiss centuries of family history? Did he have no idea of what his relatives did to gain that title? The battles fought over land, the marriages brokered over money and land. All done to increase the family’s position and fortune. All done to give them the wonderful and secure life they had now.

Meeting him almost made her wish Richard had inherited the duchy. At least he would have respect for the title and the history that went along with it. Although, he would gamble away the money. The situation was bewildering. She had one cousin who would gamble the estates to ruin, and another who would sell off everything. Well, she wasn’t about to allow either of those things to happen.

“But again, I am the duke,” the arrogant, uncivilized man stated. “Therefore, I can do as I wish with the assets.”

“You might be the duke,” she replied, balling her hands into tight fists. “But you cannot sell off this family’s properties and belongings.”

He leaned his head back into the corner of the chair and smiled. “I don’t believe you have a say in the matter.”

She smiled sternly at him. “Perhaps not. But I do know you cannot sell off any entailed property.”

Watching his eyes widen and his mouth drop slightly, she knew she had caught him off guard. He knew nothing about the laws of inheritance in England. She could use his ignorance about the subject to her advantage.

“What can’t I sell?”

Ignoring his demanding question, she walked toward the door. “Good night,
Your Grace
. Pleasant dreams.”