The Duke's Dilemma (9 page)

Hester was finding this constant praise of her
cousin, tiresome. ‘I must see how Polly’s progressing with the alterations.
What time is luncheon, at mid-day as usual?’

‘Yes, my dear, but his grace has asked that
dinner be served at six, instead of five; it seems he prefers not to keep
country hours.’

*

Ralph waited until he was alone before pacing
the study, cursing his clumsiness. He mustn’t rush matters, Hester, although
turned twenty one, had not gone about in society. His aunt had told him she
lived quietly with her companion, Miss Bird, at
Draycot
Manor, managing her own estate and finances admirably. For all that even his
untutored eye could see she dressed to advantage. The gold velvet gown she had
been wearing, in spite of its long sleeves and high neck, emphasized her
delectable breasts and added dignity to her slender frame. He couldn’t wait to
remove the pins and watch her hair tumble over her shoulders the way it had
when they first met.

He could see the sky was clear, no sign of
heavy snow clouds, though the temperature was well below freezing and the snow
showed no sign of thawing. Robin had told him there was enough fodder and
bedding stored to last the winter and the barns were full of sweet smelling
hay, barley straw, and sacks of oats. The cellars beneath the kitchen were
crammed full of carrots, potatoes, onions, preserves and jars of fruit. There
were sides of ham, bacon, salt beef, and other delicacies. With the chickens,
the house cows and what could be shot in the woods, no one would go hungry
however long they were obliged to stay here. Even the coal cellar was full.

The house was stocked for winter: his aunt
hadn’t intended to go away. What could have persuaded her to leave as she did?
Hester could be correct; perhaps her arrival was an unfortunate coincidence.

His mouth curved involuntarily as he pictured
her bristling with indignation before stalking out. Whatever the reason, he was
glad she was here as they might not have met otherwise, but having to keep both
her and her companion safe was an added complication.

He frowned. Too much time was being spent
thinking about his cousin. It had to stop; there were more pressing things for
him to do.

What they required were more servants; the
dozen women already employed formed no more than a skeleton staff in a house
this size. Another dozen would not go amiss and there was ample room in the
attics and sufficient food to feed any extra.

Outside they needed at least two more grooms,
two more gardeners and a couple of handymen. He would feel more sanguine if he had
half a dozen men able to handle firearms as well. Although he had dismissed his
cousin’s worries he believed things could get decidedly unpleasant before this
matter ended.

He walked to the wall and yanked the bell.
Eventually there was a knock on the door and James appeared looking a little
shamefaced.

‘Forgive me, your grace, when the bell rang I
took this opportunity of coming myself. I would like to speak to you.’

‘Excellent, it was you I wished to see. I want
you to try and ride to town; the snow’s deep but there’s a route through the
wood which is more sheltered. You can cut through and approach Little
Neddingfield from the rear. It’s the way those intruders must have entered and
left the park. Go to the inn and recruit more staff. I have my requirements
written.’ He handed over the note. ‘With the price of corn so high even basic
foodstuffs must be out of reach for the unemployed farm
labourers
of the
neighbourhood
so I hope they will be happy to
come. Do you think you can you make the journey safely?’

‘I do, your grace. My horse is well rested and
if I toss a blanket over its rump, I’m sure we can get there and back. However,
I’m not sure that many folk, however needy, will want to trudge four miles
through the snow in order to get here. It’s a pity it’s so thick or I could
take a wagon with me and bring them back on that.’

Ralph frowned, this was one aspect of the
situation that bothered him. Many of the people who volunteered to work would
be poorly clad and not have weatherproof footwear. He couldn’t expect them to
walk in the snow, however eager he was to employ them.

‘I suggest you go anyway. Book yourself a room
at the inn; it will probably take you a day or two to round up the number of
people I want and by then the weather might have improved and they can walk…
No, on second thoughts, hire a diligence and bring them out on that. I don’t
want anything unpleasant to happen on
this
journey; I don’t know what we’re dealing with here.’

James nodded. ‘I’ll pack my saddlebags, and set
off right away, your grace. With luck, if I don’t fall into any drifts, I’ll be
there before dark. I won’t be able to send word to you but expect me back, snow
or no snow, with the required staff within two days.’

The young man departed and Ralph realized they
had not discussed the reason that had brought James to him in the first place.
He pulled out a chair at the desk and rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his
head, there were things that needed to be thought about and here was as good a
place as any.

There were far too many unexplained events and
if he was of a fanciful turn of mind he would begin to think supernatural
forces
were
involved. There was only
one way to sift the facts from fantasy: he would write it down. He selected a
quill, uncorked the ink and began.

Questions to be
answered:

1. The gates were
closed and no one to have done it

2. Occupants of
Neddingfield Hall vanish without trace.

3. Mysterious camp
with no footprints visible.

4. Man vanishes
without trace in the wood.

Answers to questions:

1. They could have
been closed by whoever took the Neddingfield occupants away. Not

 
ghosts.

2. Horses found,
evidence of ex-soldiers. Not ghosts.

3. Camp, the
footprints could have been removed, but not clear how. Ghosts?

4. Vanished man, no
explanation. Ghosts?

He perused his paper carefully, writing it down
hadn’t helped him at all. There must be a rational explanation so why hadn’t he
found it? There were no ghosts of Neddingfield Hall; whatever was happening
here was almost certainly orchestrated by a human hand. He was damned if he was
going to start believing in the supernatural.

Chapter Nine

Until the snow melted Ralph couldn’t post the
letter to his lawyers in London asking them if they knew who his heir was and
the militia wouldn’t get through. Nothing more could be done to further his
investigations. He felt frustrated; he was a man of action and wanted to get on
with things, not sit around waiting for the weather to improve.

The sound of shouts and laughing outside
attracted his attention. His cousin was up to her knees in snow so muffled by
garments he scarcely recognized her. She was accompanied by two gardeners
holding shovels and was obviously intending to build a snowman. Good grief! The
girl had taken leave of her senses. He watched, smiling at her inadequate
attempts to construct the torso. She needed an expert to help her.

He ran up to his chambers, found his heavy
riding coat and gloves, then tying a scarf around his neck he bounded
downstairs and went to join the fun. It was years since he had thought of the
snow as anything but an inconvenience. By the time four figures were completed
he believed his relationship with his cousin had improved somewhat and she no
longer considered him an irascible ogre.

 
The
physical activity had allowed him to expand his pent-up energy and he returned
to the study in a better frame of mind. This evening they were to dine together
for the first time and Hester had told him she was going to dress. He smiled;
he hadn’t worn the evening rig hanging in his closet and it would make a
refreshing change not to appear in his scarlet regimentals.

*

Hester examined her new gown from all angles,
craning her neck to see how it fell without its train.

‘I can’t believe it’s the same garment, Polly.
You’ve worked wonders. The ruffles added around the hem make it the first stare
of fashion. I wish I had thought to bring my
jewellery
with me as the neck line
is too revealing.’ She glanced nervously at the expanse of creamy
bosom now exposed.

‘No, Miss Frobisher, it looks lovely. With your
hair dressed, and ringlets on either side of your face, you look just like the
picture in the book. I’m sure his grace will appreciate the effort you’ve
taken.’

Hester’s mouth pursed. ‘I dress to please myself,
Polly, not anyone else.’ The reprimand was unfair and she tried to make amends.
‘I do thank you. But it’s one thing to look like a sophisticate, but quite
another to maintain the pretense all evening.’ She nodded to her young abigail.
‘I shall leave the rest of my wardrobe in your capable hands. If Meg helps I
believe the contents of my closet can be made over. It might be more difficult
with the gowns that don’t have a high waist line, but the skirts of those are
so full there should be enough to make a fresh gown. Do you have enough thread
and trimmings?’

The girl nodded. ‘Yes, thank you, miss. The box
you found for me has everything I want. I could sew you a complete wardrobe
without needing more.’

After a final check that the Hester enveloped
herself in a warm cashmere shawl knowing she would need it to negotiate the icy
passageways. The tall clock that stood in pride of place in the grand hall
struck six as she reached the top of the staircase. Carefully lifting the hem
of her silk gown she ran lightly down, not wishing to be tardy tonight.

The drawing-room door was open, the room ablaze
with candlelight; the chandelier in the centre sparkling like the snow outside.
She paused, unconsciously framing herself in the doorway, unaware of the impact
she was making. Cousin Ralph was waiting, his back to the fire, for her
arrival.

She gazed down the length of the room. Her
throat closed. He was in black; apart from his shirt front, the silver of his
waistcoat and the frothy whiteness of his intricately tied cravat, held in
place by a single diamond pin. He looked magnificent, looked every inch an
aristocrat, whatever his words the contrary, he was born to rule.

She took a few hesitant steps then dropped in a
low curtsy. Gracefully she straightened and watched him bow deeply in return.
No words were spoken but the silence said more than banalities could ever do.

Ralph found his voice first and moved smoothly
towards her, his hand extended. ‘Good evening, Cousin Hester. Permit me to say
that you look enchanting tonight, my dear.’

‘And you look ... you look overwhelming.
Evening dress suits you, but it does emphasize your height in an alarming way.’
A strange tingle travelled up her fingers as he took her hand and threaded it
through his arm.

‘I believe dinner is served. Shall we go
through?’

He led her with as much formality as if
progressing at the grandest state occasion halfway down the length of the
drawing-room, through the double doors that led to the dining room and across
to the huge table that dominated the centre of the room.

Hester was relieved to see Birdie had not
placed them at either end of the table so they would have been obliged to shout
to each other in order to converse. The two places were side by side, near the
sideboard upon which the various courses were waiting. A trio of nervous
parlour
-maids were ready to serve.

‘Allow me to seat you, my dear.’ He pulled out
a chair and stood while she stepped round, then pushed it in as if he’d been
acting as a footman all his life. With a flourish he removed her intricately
folded napkin and shook it out, placing it across her lap. She smiled enjoying
his performance.

He seated himself with less fuss and indicated
they were ready to be served. He poured her a glass of claret. Hester wasn’t
used to drinking alcohol; in fact, apart from the occasional glass of champagne
at weddings and at Christmas, she avoided it. She disliked the way it made her
head spin and her senses became confused. She also disliked the way it changed
people, making them loud, red-faced and embarrassingly uninhibited.

*

Ralph watched her sip her drink with distaste
and snapped his fingers to have the glass removed and replaced by lemonade. He
made sure to be at his most charming, telling her amusing anecdotes about his time
on the Peninsula and the frolics of his fellow officers. As the meal progressed
it became more obvious that all animosity between them was over.

‘My dear, I’ve been doing all the talking. It’s
your turn to tell me about yourself, how you come to be of age but still
unmarried.’ He saw her smile slip and realized this wasn’t a subject she wished
to discuss with him.

‘I’m happy to regale you with stories of my
youth, but that is all. You have no right to question me on such a personal
matter.’

Dammit! He’d made a mull of it. It was too long
since he’d been obliged to do the pretty with an innocent. How could he restore
himself in her eyes without looking like a nincompoop?

‘I beg your pardon, Hester, you’re quite right
to castigate me. The subject is closed. Now, I am all agog to hear what you got
up to at Drayton Manor.’

When the final remove was taken from the table
he was ready, rising smoothly to be at her side to assist her from her chair.
As he stood behind her looking over her shoulder, he felt the all-too-familiar
tightness. She was so beautiful and dressed as she was in this gold silk
evening gown, she was damn near irresistible.

If he made his advance too soon he would scare
her, but it was becoming almost impossible to behave as a gentleman with so
much temptation at his fingertips. Carefully avoiding any contact with her bare
shoulders he pulled her chair back, allowing her to slip sideways away from his
grasp. She moved to the far end of the room, looking at him warily. Did she
suspect what he had in mind? He banked down the fire in his eyes before
speaking.

‘Shall we go through into the drawing-room, my
dear? I have no wish to sit on my own imbibing port when I can be talking to
the most beautiful woman in England.’

He saw a faint pink colour her cheeks at his
fulsome compliment and for a moment was ashamed. She was no match for him, he
was experienced in the ways of the world and knew exactly how to further his
suit.

*

Why was he looking at her as though he wished
to devour her? She’d enjoyed sharing dinner with him, listening to his stories,
and apart from his intrusive questions about her single state the evening had
gone splendidly. Having spent all morning building snowmen with him she had
almost revised her opinion and was coming to almost like him.

 
Would it
be wise to spend any further time in his company? She had observed him refill
his glass and knew from watching the brothers and husbands of her friends that
men did things they might later regret when in their cups.

She nodded coolly; she didn’t want to give him
any encouragement. ‘Your grace, I have enjoyed this evening, but you will
forgive me I’m sure, if I retire to my chambers. It’s been a long day, and as
you know I spent the greater part of the morning in physical activity outside
and I’m feeling decidedly fatigued.’

His mouth tightened so played her trump card.
‘I believe I’m not quite as well as I thought. After all,
Dr
Ratcliff did say I should remain in my room for another day after…’ She paused
to give her next remark more impact. ‘After my unfortunate accident a few days
ago.’

He frowned. ‘Of course. Shall I ring for
someone to escort you to your chambers?’

Before he could reach the bell she raised her
hand to halt him. ‘There’s no need, I feel tired and my head aches a little but
I’m quite capable of seeing myself upstairs.’

Believing she was safe at least for tonight,
she gathered her skirts and prepared to leave. Then somehow he was close behind
her, his hot breath brushing the top of her head.

 
‘I
believe you will need your wrap to negotiate the corridors. Allow me to place
it
onyour
shoulders.’

She felt the whisper of the fine material as it
dropped across her neck and then his hands brushed her cheeks as he delicately
folded it around her. She couldn’t move. His proximity was making her head
spin. He was so overwhelmingly masculine.

Eventually she found her voice and even to her
it sounded shaky and unnatural. ‘Thank you, sir, that’s most kind.’ She
attempted to step forward but for some reason her feet wouldn’t stir, she was
rooted, trapped by something she didn’t understand.

Strong fingers closed on her shoulders and
slowly she was turned to face him. She stood trembling within the circle of his
arms, no more than a hand span between them and she wasn’t sure if she shook with
fear or something else entirely.

‘Look at me, Hester, sweetheart, please.’

His voice was hypnotic, she couldn’t prevent
herself. She tilted her head and her lips parted in invitation. She took an
involuntary step backwards only to find her retreat prevented by his arms. He
intended to kiss her – half of her longed to feel his mouth on hers, to
experience her first kiss, but the other half screamed a warning.

Once she had tasted his lips she would be lost,
her freedom compromised and before she knew what was happening he would be on
one knee making an offer that she would be in no position to refuse. She had no
option; there was only one way out of this impasse. She closed her eyes and
allowed herself to collapse in a silken heap at his feet.

*

Ralph’s heart was thundering, her capitulation
was imminent. He had to kiss her, to place his mouth over hers, taste its
sweetness, crush her to him. He’d never felt this way, so out of control, like
a lovesick boy not a man of two and thirty. He watched her eyes widen - saw

the
invitation - knew this was the moment.

He relaxed his fingers and prepared to pull her
closer but she slipped through his fingers. Too late. His reactions were slow,
far too slow, and to his horror she lay in a puddle of gold, unconscious on the
floor.

Swearing under his breath, disgusted that his
behaviour
had caused her to swoon, he scooped her up and
cradling her next to his heart, he carried her upstairs to her rooms. The two
maidservants greeted him with barely concealed opprobrium and reluctantly he
left his love in their capable hands. He stomped back to the study with the
intention of drinking himself into oblivion, ashamed he’d allowed his base
nature to overcome his better judgment.

What the hell was the matter with him? Why did
the proximity of his cousin make him behave like a coxcomb?

*

Hester remained still, stretched out on the day
bed, until she heard the distinctive click of the door closing. Immediately she
raised her head. ‘Has he gone? Is it safe for me to recover?’ She sat up,
laughing at the shocked expressions on their faces. ‘It was a sham, I could
think of nothing else to avoid ... well it seemed the best way in the
circumstances.’

She saw the two girls exchange glances and
understood that they were better versed in the wicked ways of gentlemen than
she was. Polly leant down and offered her hand.

‘Please, Miss Frobisher, let me help you to
your feet. You’ll spoil your gown if you lie down in it for much longer.’