The Reluctant Duke (Love's Pride Book 1) (8 page)

Reaching the doorknob, she turned and looked at The Duke, no Thomas, she thought. In her heart, he would always be Thomas. He still stood there at attention. God, he was so handsome, so powerful.

“Your Grace,” she said. “The only thing you need to be sorry for is the apology; I could have gone the rest of my life not knowing you regretted that kiss. For me, it was the high point of my life. Or was until you said you were sorry.”

She saw her words strike home as his eyes winced. For her, it was the first step back to what might be normal again.

Thomas walked into the parlor to retrieve a book and noticed Isabel, by the large French windows staring off into the distance. Wondering about the lost look on her face, he approached and looked through the window. Mr. Moore appeared to be leaving down the path towards the village.

“Was that Mr. Moore?” He asked.

Isabel was startled a little, obviously unaware that he had entered the room.

“Yes, Your Grace, he came to visit Elizabeth to discuss forming a committee to help the less privileged in the village. He has asked her to organize some of the other ladies to make up some baskets, and he will deliver them.”

“Is that the only reason he visited,” The Duke asked with a smile.

Isabel blushed and then looked back out the window at the departing vicar.

“Did you know that Rev Moore is the son of Viscount Ponderha? The third son,” she asked, her eyes down cast as a deep frown creased her brow.

Thomas was taken aback, Moore hadn’t mentioned it. It wasn’t unusual for second and third sons to go into the church, that or the army. Obviously the man wanted to be known for his own deeds and not to trade on his family’s name.

“No I didn’t know, but it really doesn’t change things much, does it.”

“No, I suppose not, but… can I ask you a question, Sir?” She asked with a hesitant voice.

“Of course my dear, feel free to ask anything,” He said in a soothing voice. The girl appeared very troubled.

“What are the rules about Viscount’s sons and marriage,” she asked blushing, and peeking out from under a furrowed brow.

“Why, has Rev Moore approached you about this, I must say, that is a little soon don’t you think?”

“No, no, he hasn’t said anything. No, he has done nothing to lead me to believe that such a thing was ever possible. I was just curious, I mean, I am not of this world Your Grace, I don’t know what is acceptable, what is expected of a person. It is very difficult not knowing where I stand.”

“Of course, I understand. Well in answer to your question. Legally, a peer of the realm needs the King’s permission to marry. Of course, that is seldom enforced these days. The Hanoverians are still a little wobbly on the throne. The last thing they want to do is upset the Lords. But a second or third son, he doesn’t need anyone’s permission. Although, a vicar does need to worry about upsetting his bishop and or his congregation. “

“Yes your grace, I understand, thank you,” she said, returning to look out the window.

The Duke looked down at the young woman, and his heart went out to her. She was trapped between two worlds. His thoughts flashed to Miss Harding. He began to have some idea of what she might be going through.

“Isabel, I wouldn’t worry about things too much, they have a habit of working out.”

She looked up at him and smiled weakly, He could have sworn she was going to ask him how it was working out for him and Miss Harding. Thankfully she held her tongue and simply smiled and nodded her head.

.o0o.

Thomas was frustrated, in more ways than one. Miss Harding, Gwen, was avoiding him. She even had Goodwin bring him his lunch. A part of the day he’d always looked forward to. He had to resort to telling the young footman he’d like to see Miss. Harding.

Fifteen minutes and still she hadn’t come. This was getting to be a maddening. If she didn’t arrive soon, he’d go find her. He could feel his anger rising, never a good thing.

There was a firm knock before the study door opened. Miss Harding walked in, her head up and eyes challenging him to make a comment about her lateness. She was dressed in a plain gray dress with a bit of lace at the collar and sleeves. Thomas realized that all she ever wore was gray. At least she no longer wore one of those silly white maid caps.

“You wished to see me, Your Grace?” She asked.

He wanted to apologize again; the guilt was eating at him. But obviously that had not been the right thing to do.

“Yes Miss Harding, I wanted to let you know that the family will be shifting to London in two days. And I will need some of the staff to travel with us and help fill in at the ducal mansion. It seems my Grandfather closed the London house years ago. I have had the agency hire a staff and start the process of opening things up.”

Miss Harding’s eye widened in shock. It seemed that this had not been what she’d expected.

“Of course, Your Grace, Did you have anybody in particular in mind?”

“Yes, my valet, of course, the girl’s maid, and Goodwin I think. And… I would like for you to travel with us also,” he said, scrutinizing her, wondering how she would react.

Her face lost all color, and her hands clamped the back of a chair. “London?” she said in a weak voice.

“Yes, you know that you are the only person who can run this family. The only one who knows what I like for dinner, knows where Lizzy left her latest bit of ribbon or Isabel her cloak. You know how to keep the Sergeant Major out of everybody’s business. Face it, we couldn’t function without you, at least not until we have the London staff fully trained and up to your standards.”

Miss Harding, Gwen, looked at him like he’d asked her to charge the French army all by herself. God, did she still despise him for the other night? He’d hoped she would be able to put it behind her.

Pulling herself together, she straightened her shoulders, looked him in the eye. “Of course Your Grace. If you will excuse me I will start making preparations.” And with that she turned and was out the door in a heartbeat.

.o0o.

Gwen reached back and made sure her hair was still in place. It had been a long trip, preceded by two days of furious activity. The thought of London had hung over her the entire time. What if she ran into someone she knew? Granted, it was unlikely. Her acquaintances had not traveled in the rarified air of the ton, especially the upper part of Dukes and Princes. All except one, that is. The memory of the Earl’s ruddy face flashed into her mind.

Shaking the evil fears from her mind. She focused on what lay before her. A new house, and a new staff. A staff led by a London butler. She wondered what her role would be in the new household. Gathering herself, she accepted Freddy’s hand and stepped down from the coach.

The Duke’s carriage, a top of the line vehicle with its ducal crest on the side, had arrived a few seconds before them. The Duke was talking to the Butler, Lady Elizabeth, and Miss Isabel had obviously already gone inside.

His Grace gestured Gwen over.

“Mr. Woods, may I present Miss Harding, Brookshire’s housekeeper. Please check with her on all family related matters, she is very familiar with the family’s wants and needs.”

The butler was a formidable man in his forties, with a neatly trimmed mustache and close-cropped brown hair.

“Of course, Your Grace,” he said, bowing slightly to Miss Harding.

Gwen was impressed that he could do such a good job of masking his shock. She was sure that her age and appearance had been cataloged and evaluated. But being the type of butler he was. He’d never show any appearance of judgment, at least not in front of the Duke.

It wasn’t difficult imagining what he was thinking. It made her mad, to be thought of as the Duke’s bit of a plaything, yet not have any of the benefits. She wondered, not for the first time, how women of that type did it. Go through life knowing that everyone knew what they were and what they did.

Returning a quick curtsy, she followed the men into the house. The front hall was immense, a black and white marble floor had been polished to a high gloss. Two ornate staircases led from either side to the upper floors. An army of footmen were portaging the family’s baggage to their rooms. Another group of footmen were taking the servants bags downstairs.

Mr. Woods handed her off to one of the maids and then led His Grace up the stairs to his rooms.

The maid led her downstairs to a plain room with whitewashed walls and a small bed and dresser. Servant’s quarters appeared to be the same here in London as in the country. Gwen could see the maid shoot her glances as she explored the room.

Obviously the young woman didn’t know what to make of her. Servants had a very rigid hierarchy and didn’t like anything that disrupted it. Gwen didn’t fit in; the house didn’t need a keeper. Mr. Woods ran a tight ship. And here was this pretty young woman, obviously His Grace wanted her around. It wasn’t normal, and a servant relied upon normal.

Gwen thanked the girl then started to unpack. She would give them a few minutes then go up and check on Lady Elizabeth and Isabel. She needed to learn about the house, including all of the possible exits, just in case.

Lizzy and Isabel were beside themselves with excitement. His Grace had promised Lizzy a season, a coming out and everything. Because it was important to Lizzy, he had agreed to sponsor Isabel also. Gwen knew that he was worried about Lady Elizabeth entering the ton without any friends.

She listened to the two girls giggle and make plans. Talking about balls, and the latest dances. It was nice to see Isabel bouncing back, she had been sad the last few days, but Gwen had been unable to find out why.

A soft knock preceded a young maid stepping into the bedroom.

“His Grace request’s Lady Elizabeth and Miss Isabel join him in the parlor,” the young girl said.

Lizzy looked startled; she had not expected to be summoned so soon. She asked the maid to lead the way as they had not yet learned where everything was.

The maid stopped and turned saying, “You also Miss Harding. He asked that you come also.”

Gwen’s breath caught, what did he want? Her stomach turned over every time she thought about being in the same room with him.

.o0o.

Thomas was in serious trouble. His Aunt Celeste had arrived. How the woman knew they were here so soon was a mystery, one of many.

He looked across the room at the stiff-backed old biddy. In her early sixties, with a big lavender hat covered in ostrich feathers. She sat on the edge of her chair pouring out the tea that Woods had brought in.

“Really, Bathurst, you should keep me informed of when you will be in town. If I hadn’t heard about your hiring of staff I wouldn’t have had any inkling,” she said as she held up a cup of tea for him.

He held up his glass of brandy and shook his head.

“A little early for that, don’t you think, you have to remember your Uncle John. You Marshall men have a tendency to the drink, never a good thing in a peer.” She said.

The Duke could well imagine why some of the men in the family preferred to drink. Having to be around Aunt Celeste would do that to a man.

A soft knock at the door interrupted the moment as Woods opened it, letting the girls and Miss Harding into the room. Celeste stood up, leaned on her cane and brought a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles up to examine the two young women, ignoring the servant behind them.

“Lady Celeste, my I present your grandniece Lady Elizabeth Marshall and her companion Miss Isabel Morgan. Ladies, my aunt, Lady Celeste Marshall.” Both young women immediately bowed their heads and dropped into deep curtsies.

Celeste continued to examine them, especially young Elizabeth. Finally seeing enough she removed her glasses and turned to the Duke.

“At least she’s pretty enough,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Lizzy gave a little gasp at the rudeness. Celeste turned back to her and smiled, “That’s one of the benefits of getting to be as old as I am. I get to say what I think, regardless. Now then, come sit by me,” she said guiding Elizabeth to the settee. “Isabel is it? Please join us, we must start immediately, it is late, and we haven’t much time if you two are to have a true season.”

Lizzy glanced back at Miss Harding, her eyes begging the other woman to rescue her.

Gwen shrugged her shoulders as if to say “You’re on your own.”

Celeste had caught the silent communication. Turning, she looked at the young housekeeper.

“You may go, we will ring when we are done,” she said then brought her glasses up again to look more closely at Elizabeth.

The Duke felt his back go up; no one talked to his Gwen that way.

Stepping forward, he said, “Aunt Celeste, This is Miss Harding, our housekeeper, she has been indispensable in helping Elizabeth manage Brookshire.”

“Yes I’m sure,” Celeste said bringing her glasses up to look at the servant again. Her hand froze and her eyes shot wide open when she got a good look at the woman. Quickly she turned to look at The Duke then back at the servant. “Housekeeper?” was all she could say.

“Yes, housekeeper, and an extremely valuable part of this family,” Elizabeth said, smiling at Gwen.

The Duke could see the pain they were causing Gwen, he nodded his head and said “Thank you, Miss Harding, if you could see to the kitchen staff and let them know what we will need for dinner. I assume Celeste that you will join us?”

“What? Yes of course.” The older woman said, looking quizzically back and forth between the Duke and the servant.

Thomas watched the young woman curtsy and then leave, looking over her shoulder one last time before exiting. His heart went with her. He couldn’t let things continue the way they were, it only made everyone miserable.