Fenella J Miller - [Duke 02] Read online

  “Good morning, miss, can I be of assistance? Mrs Turnbull is my name, I am the landlady here.”

  “Good morning. My name is Miss Hadley and I’d like a room for tonight with a separate parlour. I also require a truckle bed for my abigail.”

  “I have an apartment which will suit you perfectly. It is at the back of the building and very quiet. Will you be requiring supper in your room?”

  “No thank you, Mrs Turnbull, I shall be dining with another of your guests who has already reserved a private parlour.”

  Anna felt the blood flood into her cheeks. Good heavens! It must sound as if she had a clandestine assignation and was a young woman of dubious morals. The landlady pursed her lips.

  “Very well, Miss Hadley. I shall have hot water sent to your rooms immediately. Shall you be requiring anything else?” Her tone was decidedly frosty

  “No thank you. I shall leave my maid to take care of the formalities. Kindly show me to my chamber.” She had been going to request luncheon be sent but had lost her appetite. She waited with as much dignity as she could muster for a boot boy to be summoned to carry the bags and escort her upstairs.

  The rooms allocated to her were more than adequate. A parlour adjoined the bedchamber and there was a small anteroom in which the truckle bed for Molly could be set up.

  “Put the bags in the bedchamber, if you please.” The boy did as she bid, tugged his forelock and vanished.

  Molly puffed in behind her. “My, this is far better than I expected. It’s clean and the sheets freshly starched. Nothing to complain of here.”

  The hot water arrived and whilst Molly put out the recently altered gown Anna stripped of the hated brown dress. With the grime of the journey rinsed from her person she was refreshed and a little calmer. “I have yet to cancel our seats on the stage for tomorrow, I thought it better to wait until…well…to wait until later.”

  “Shall I put your hair up in a more becoming style, miss? We can’t do anything about the colour but with a bit of ribbon I reckon I can make it more pleasing.”

  She was tempted to refuse. The last thing she wanted to do was appear an attractive proposition to this young man. After she spoke her vows, whatever her wishes, she would be legally bound to him and he could demand his conjugal rights. “No, I think it best I don’t wear my sprigged muslin. I’ll keep it for tomorrow. Either I shall be starting a new life as Lady Shalford and will want to look my best or will be continuing my journey to live with Mrs Cunningham. In either case I don’t want to look like a governess.”

  An hour later she was regretting her decision not to send for refreshments. “Molly, can you go down and see if you can find us something to eat? It’s still three hours until I am to go downstairs to dine with Lord Shalford.”

  The few moments later there was a sharp knock on the door. Botheration! Molly must have both hands occupied and needed the door opening for her. She uncurled her feet from beneath her, put aside her book and stepped across to open the door. She clutched the wall for support. A startlingly handsome young man stood framed in the doorway.

  “Miss Hadley, I beg your pardon for arriving unannounced but I could not wait a moment longer to meet you.” The gentleman bowed and his corn coloured locks tumbled across his brow. “Rupert Shalford at your service.”

  Recovering her self-composure with difficulty, Anna curtsied. “My lord, I cannot invite you in as my maid is elsewhere. However, I would be happy to join you downstairs for some luncheon.”

  His blue eyes held hers for a disturbing moment. “I shall order a meal directly.” He delved into his jacket pocket and produced a sheaf of folded paper. “Here, Miss Hadley, I thought you might like to read these letters from my lawyers before you make your decision.”

  “Thank you, sir, I’m sorry but I don’t have a similar package for you. However I have written done all I know about my trust fund myself. I hope that’s acceptable?” Glad to be away from someone so attractive she hurried to her reticule and withdrew the required papers. This was one thing she hadn’t thought to ask about her prospective husband. It had not occurred to her he might be a desirable partner. Thank goodness she had remained in her unattractive gown with her hair scraped back.

  She thrust the document into his hand. “Here you are, Lord Shalford. I shall join you downstairs in half an hour. That should give us time to peruse the contents.”

  He grinned, nodded absently and sauntered off whistling a jaunty tune. She read sufficient to understand she was not making a mistake. Shalford was well-respected by his lawyers and as wealthy as she had been told. The only drawback to the arrangement was the fact he was so personable.

  Her lips curved. Would it be so very bad if they fell in love and the marriage became a genuine arrangement? Annoyed by her romantic nonsense she re-folded the papers and put them inside the novel she was reading. Her thoughts were better suited to Marianne, Anna had always prided herself on being of a practical nature and not given to the fanciful notions of her friend.

  When Molly staggered in bearing a laden tray she was ready to leave. “I’m so sorry, Molly, but I’m to eat with Lord Shalford. Put the tray somewhere cool and cover it with a damp cloth; I’m sure it will keep for your supper.” Not allowing her abigail to comment she collected her reticule and headed for the vestibule. Molly trundled along behind her muttering under her breath.

  There was no need to ask for directions as Shalford bounded out from a door a little way along the left-hand passageway. “I say, Miss Hadley, down here. I’m sharp set, I’ve not eaten since last night.” His voice boomed along the panelled walls startling an unfortunate pot-boy who slopped ale down his apron.

  Anna dashed towards her host hoping to prevent him calling out her name so loudly a second time. “My lord, it might be better if we left the door ajar…”

  “No, we must close it. Don’t want our business overheard.” He grabbed her elbow and all but bundled her inside the room leaving Molly to shut the door behind them. “My brother, the duke, won’t approve of our marriage and will do everything he can to put a stop to it. Better he don’t know where we are until the knot’s tied.”

  “And my stepfather, Sir John Radcliffe, would be of the same mind if he was to hear about it. I should like to know exactly why the duke is depriving you of your rightful income.”

  “I’ll explain everything whilst we eat. Look, I’ve ordered game-pie and fried potatoes, bread and cheese and apple pie and cream. There’s buttermilk and lemonade for you and a decent claret for me.”

  Not waiting for her be seated he pulled out his chair and immediately tucked a napkin under his chin. Half smiling Anna joined him at the table. He piled his plate leaving her to take what she wanted without his assistance. He might be charming but he appeared not to know the social niceties: that a gentleman must always seat a lady before himself and serve her first.

  “I shall come into my inheritance on my marriage. Is it not the same for you?”

  He nodded, pausing from his meal just long enough to answer. “Indeed it is, Miss Hadley. My brother has taken against me and my friends and refuses to pay my bills. I can’t abide being dunned by tailors and such. Bad form, you know, not to settle your bills on time.”

  “I quite understand, my lord. There are one or two things we need to discuss before I agree.”

  “Anything you like, I’m an easy-going sort of fellow you know.”

  “I wish to live on your country estate in privacy. Do I have your word you will not bring down a house full of strange gentlemen?” He nodded and gestured with fork full of food that she continue. “Also I wish it to be quite clear that my inheritance remains under my control.” She felt decidedly peculiar issuing orders in this way. Surely he must realize she had no right in law to dictate any such thing? She would only have his word that he would stick to the arrangement; once they were married he would have access to her trust fund and be able to do whatever he liked with it.

  “I tell you what, Miss Hadley, you
write all that down and then I’ll sign it and have the landlord witness my signature. I have no wish to take your money, I just want to be able to be my own man and not under the control of my brother.”

  “In which case, sir, I agree to marry you. I find I have no appetite; pray excuse me. I shall go at once and write the necessary document. Will you be remaining here or retiring to your chamber?”

  “Neither. Rolly Banister and Jack Simmons will be here any time and we’re going to look at a racing curricle that’s for sale in a village a mile or two away. Don’t worry; I’ll be back at five o’clock.” He drained his glass refilling it for the fourth time.

  Anna returned to her rooms with Molly trotting behind. “Good job we still got the tray, miss, or you’d be going hungry this afternoon.”

  *

  The afternoon dragged by. Anna paced her sitting-room, becoming more agitated as five o’clock approached. She had changed her gown, washed and dried her hair and Molly had arranged this in a more becoming style. The paper stating her requirements had been written in duplicate and only awaited the signatures of herself, Shalford and the witnesses.

  “Molly, go down and see if Lord Shalford, the other two gentlemen and the curate are waiting for us. I heard a church clock strike the hour; I have no wish to keep him waiting. The sooner this is over the happier I shall be.”

  At half an hour past five o’clock the ceremony was over. A plain gold ring gleamed on her left hand. She had her copy of the statement safely in her reticule and the marriage certificate had been signed by the witnesses before the young curate had departed.

  “Lord Shalford, I should prefer to dine in my room as you have your friends with you this evening. At what time are we to depart tomorrow morning?”

  Her husband grinned. “What a lark! Ralph will be mad as fire when he hears I’m married. You eat where you like, Miss Hadley... I beg your pardon, I should have said, Lady Shalford. I shall remain here and get drunk with my friends.”

  “Thank you. But you have not answered my question about our departure, sir; what time do you wish me to be ready to leave in the morning?”

  He shrugged. “Best be off early, I sent a letter to my brother telling him I was getting married so don’t do to be around too long.”

  Anna retreated to her rooms. She was puzzled why her husband had felt obliged to inform his brother of their marriage. She had no intention of telling her stepfather, the more time that passed the better before he discovered her deception.

  “It’s a good thing we didn’t send the tray back, madam, or you’d get no supper tonight,” Molly puffed from behind her.

  “Indeed it is, Molly. I fear Lord Shalford is a young man too fond of his drink. I shall endeavour to keep away from him when he is in his cups.”

  Around nine o’clock footsteps approached her parlour door. She clutched her book and prayed her new husband had not come to accost her. Molly opened the door and Mrs Turnbull curtsied.

  “My lady, I apologise for intruding but I require your assistance.”

  “How can I help?”

  “It’s like this, ma’am, His lordship’s gentlemen friends have left and he has passed out on the floor of the parlour. We don’t like to leave him there, him being a lord and all.”

  “I shall come at once. We must carry him to his bed chamber. My maid and I will take care of him. I am most grateful you have brought this to my attention.”

  After a deal of struggling, two pot boys and Mr Turnbull managed to transport the unconscious body of her husband to his bed chamber. Unfortunately they did not remain to help her disrobe him.

  “I think we must just remove only his neck cloth, topcoat and boots, Molly, I would not feel comfortable doing more.”

  “If we leave him on his side, put a chamber pot within his reach, I reckon he’ll do. What could have possessed him to drink himself insensible?”

  “He will be dead before he’s thirty if he continues to abuse his body in this way. I think I shall sit up with him; I’d not want him to choke to death and become a widow on the same day I became a bride.”

  The young man didn’t stir during their ministrations. Molly propped him on his side by placing two pillows behind his back. He looked unwell and far older than his years. “He must be dreadfully unhappy, don’t you think, Molly. He’s a young man who has his whole life in front of him. The duke must indeed be a dreadful person to drive his brother into such a state.”

  “Let me sit with him, my lady, you go and get some rest.”

  “Very well, but just for an hour. I shall take off my finery. Then you must sponge and press this outfit so it’s ready for tomorrow.”

  The desire to change was more to protect her only smart ensemble from unpleasant consequences than to have her outfit cleaned. The church clock was striking eleven as she returned to the bedchamber. She sent Molly to her bed: there was no point in both of them being exhausted tomorrow.

  She checked her patient was no worse and settled herself by the window. This was going

  to be a long night and the chamber was getting decidedly chilly. Restoring the fire would occupy her time and the flickering flames would be company. Never in her worst nightmares had she considered the first night of her marriage would be spent watching over a drunken stranger.

  Chapter Four

  Anna shifted on her chair; the padded seat seemed harder than when she’d sat down some hours ago. The fire was getting low; she shivered and pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders. A loud snore came from the bed at the far side of the room and her head jerked around.

  Her husband showed no sign of waking. She relaxed and resumed her contemplation of the flames. As this was to be a marriage in name only should she be sitting in his room? She shuddered and her hands clenched in her lap, the new gold ring bit into her finger reminding her she’d taken her vows knowing full well they were meaningless.

  A cock crowed. Thank goodness, it would be dawn soon and this miserable night would be over. A sudden commotion in the corridor outside the room alerted her. Surely her stepfather could not have discovered her whereabouts so soon? She leapt to her feet and placed the bulk of the chair between herself and the door. Not a moment too soon; it slammed open and a huge, glowering gentleman filled the space.

  He took in the situation at a glance and smiled grimly. “I see I’m not too late to stop your tricks, madam. I’m The Duke of Westchester and I’m here to remove my brother from your avaricious clutches.” The giant stepped in closing the door in the curious face of the landlord.

  He swayed and Anna saw his knuckles whiten where he gripped the mantel. Good grief, he was all but unconscious. What was it about these Shalford men that they were unable to stay on their feet like other people? Whilst she remained standing etiquette dictated he must not sit.

  Hastily she sat displaying her wedding ring prominently on the arm of the chair. She dare not raise her eyes to be fixed by his basilisk glare. This man was as terrifying and as formidable as Shalford had said. Small wonder he had been eager to marry in order to escape from his brother’s tyranny. There was a thump as the intruder took the chair opposite hers—then nothing.

  The chamber was strangely quiet. Why did he not continue to berate her? Nervously she raised her head to see her adversary as deeply asleep as his younger sibling. In repose he was less alarming, looked almost boyish, more like Shalford. She watched him for a few moments allowing her breathing to return to normal.

  Something quite extraordinary occurred to her. The man sprawled in the opposite chair, his many caped greatcoat flowing around him, his boots caked with mud and his breeches just as bad, must have ridden the sixty miles from Shalford Hall. He had accomplished this feat in a few hours only. He could not possibly have received the letter until late afternoon.

  Despite his appalling rudeness she admired his achievement. He must be famished; his brother had not touched the supper tray brought up earlier. However unpleasant the duke was his temper might be improved by
sustenance. She moved quietly to the table under the window where the meal had been left. Removing the napkin she examined the contents, she found it hard to distinguish the ham from the roast beef by the light of the single candle glimmering on the mantelshelf.

  The bread was too hard to eat but would do if she toasted it. The coffee was no more than lukewarm but if she heated the poker and plunged it in it should be palatable. The apple pie and meat pasty would be as tasty cold as hot. First she must put coal and logs on the fire. She tiptoed back to the fireplace and knelt to remove what she needed from the log box and scuttle.

  *

  Ralph heard the woman move. He kept his limbs relaxed and peered through his lashes to see what she was about. She was out of sight and without turning his head and alerting her he was awake he couldn’t see what she was doing. Perhaps a call of nature took her to the dressing room.

  No, she was beside him again. One by one she removed lumps of coal and placed them on the dying fire, this was followed by three small logs. He stiffened as she pushed the poker into the growing flames and did not remove it. Was she going to attack him whilst he slept?

  She sat back on her heels and he saw her face clearly for the first time. He expected to see a painted Jezebel - a light skirt his idiot brother had been inveigled into marrying. Instead he saw a young woman with dull brown hair worn in a severe, unflattering style, a pleasant countenance and brown eyes. Certainly nothing to suggest she was a femme fatale or a fortune hunter. In fact, she was a plain dab of a thing. She was as different from his expectations as chalk was to cheese.

  There was something else going on here. Was it possible he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion? He watched her spring gracefully to her feet and move back across the room; she returned with a laden tray and placed it on a small foot stool in front of the fireplace. He tensed as she pulled out the poker but she plunged it into the coffee pot. Then she skewered two slices of bread on a toasting fork and held them in front of the flames.