They were seated at breakfast when an out-of-breath Grindle poked his head into the room. ‘Your Grace, you have a visitor.’
‘Who is it?’
Grindle looked uncomfortable, when he rarely showed any expression at all. ‘Lord Luke, Your Grace. I told him you were not at home as you instructed, but he barged in and said he would wait. I put him in the green drawing room, but he is threatening to come looking for you, if you won’t go to him.’
‘It is all right, Grindle,’ Julia said, soothingly. ‘We are finished here. We will go at once.’
‘There is no reason for you to see him,’ Alistair said.
The hurt in her expression was almost more than he could stand. ‘Come if you wish, but he won’t be staying long so there is no need to offer him refreshment.’
Wide-eyed, she stared at him, then nodded. ‘If that is your wish.’
He wanted to curse that look of disapproval when they had finally seemed to reach some sort of balance but instead offered his arm and escorted her to the drawing room.
Alistair froze at the sight of the blond, blue-eyed boy standing beside Luke. What new ploy was this? Since coming in to his title, the only time his family showed up on his doorstep was when they wanted money or to use his influence to their benefit. But bringing the boy? Was this his brother’s way of reminding him of his duty to his heir? ‘Luke. You want to see me?’
The boy gazed at him warily and then his gaze flicked to his father. His legal father.
‘Good to see you, too,’ Luke drawled.
‘How kind of you to call, Lord Luke,’ Julia said, stepping forward, holding out her hand. Alistair gritted his teeth at the warm smile she bestowed on his brother and, in his turn, the lad. A punishment, no doubt, for his rudeness. Holding his breath, he waited for Julia to really look. To see.
‘Your Grace, it is a pleasure.’ Luke bowed and the boy followed his lead.
Alistair drank in the sight of the boy, so young, yet trying so hard to be the perfect gentleman. A pang pierced his heart. A longing to know more of the boy. To have some hand in his upbringing. Luke was teaching him well, but Jeffrey did not look particularly happy. Still, it was understandable. What boy wanted to call on curmudgeonly uncles on a bright sunny day?
‘Please, do sit down,’ Julia said sinking on to the sofa.
‘Thank you, Your Grace.’ Luke took a seat on the sofa. The boy hopped up beside him, close enough to touch, as if seeking protection from his wicked ducal uncle. Bitterness rose in Alistair’s gullet.
‘Please, won’t you call me Julia since we are family? And, Jeffrey, how are you today?’
Alistair sat beside her, keeping a careful watch on his brother. Not that he thought the man would pull a pistol and shoot him in broad daylight before a witness. But he wasn’t taking any chances.
Luke ran a glance over Alistair. ‘I see the reports of you at death’s door were wrong.’
His brother didn’t look particularly well either. Far too skinny for his large frame. ‘Came to commiserate, did you? Or were you hoping to dance on my grave?’
Bleakness filled his brother’s face. ‘The latter, naturally.’
The boy squirmed.
‘This is the first day since the accident that Alistair has risen from his bed,’ Julia hastened to intervene, her face mirroring distaste at the awful things being spoken and those not spoken. ‘He received a bad blow to the head.’
‘Then I am surprised he suffered any ill effects,’ Luke muttered. ‘Being the most hard-headed individual of my acquaintance.’
Julia, curse her, smothered a smile.
He glared at his brother. ‘Tell me, Luke, exactly why are you here? And be quick about it. I am a busy man.’
‘I would prefer we discuss it in private.’
Ice filled Alistair’s veins. ‘Need money, do you?’
Julia gasped.
The boy on the sofa cringed and gazed up at Luke, his face pale.
‘Jeffrey,’ Julia said, her smile brittle, ‘would you care to show me your pony? We did not have time for proper introductions when we met the other day. I assume you left him at the stables?’
The look of longing on her face as she gazed at the child was like a blow to the solar plexus. This was all his fault. His guilt. Which was now visited upon a wife he should never have married.
‘May I, Papa?’ What a good job his brother was doing with the lad, despite his lack of a wife. He ignored the pang the thought gave him and retained his cold expression with effort.
‘You may,’ Luke said, his face as grim as Alistair envisaged his own to be.
He and Luke rose as Julia led the boy out of the room.
‘Well?’ Alistair said.
Luke glowered. ‘First, I’d appreciate you not insulting me in front of my son.’
Alistair’s fists clenched. He relaxed them and curled his lip. ‘Your son.’
Luke flushed. ‘Damn you, Alistair. I did not come here to argue. But when your stable master curses my name at the local watering hole, it is beyond enough.’
Alistair stared at him, recognising anger and frustration and genuine bewilderment.’
‘What did McPherson say?’
‘Only that your accident might not have been an accident and there is only one person who will benefit from your death.’ He threw up a hand when Alistair opened his mouth to speak and went to the window to look out. ‘Oh, he didn’t say it in so many words, but the meaning was clear enough. Are you trying to get me dismissed?’
Alistair pulled in a deep breath at his brother’s genuine distress. ‘I did not put McPherson up to his mutterings, if that is what you are suggesting. But my girth was cut.’
Luke blanched. ‘It could have happened here.’
Jaimie could be trying obfuscate the truth in other words.
‘It might also have been an accident.’
Luke looked worried. ‘As you say.’
‘I’ll have a word with Jaimie.’
Luke huffed out a breath. ‘Actually, that was not my sole reason for calling. It is about Mother.’
Saints preserve him. ‘Your mother.’
His brother’s lips tightened. ‘From what I gather she’s close to being done up.’
Money. It was always about money. ‘She called on my wife, uninvited.’
Luke winced. ‘I know. Your steward blabbed in the Wheatsheaf as how he was going to be escorting the great Duke of Dunstan around the estate the other day. Gossip travels fast in the country.’
Especially when the Dowager had eyes and ears everywhere. The thought struck a chord of memory he could not quite capture. Curse his knock on the head. ‘I have no plans to renovate the dower house at Sackfield, Luke. She has a perfectly good house in Yorkshire. And I will not have her under my roof.’
‘Damnation, Alistair, she wishes to visit her grandsons and I have no room at my cottage. You could—’
Alistair swung away to look out of the window and to avoid the quiet rage in his brother’s eyes. Was that rage deep enough to lead Luke to kill? ‘I could not. I am on my honeymoon. I do not intend to spend it with your mother. I will have my man of business send her an advance on next quarter’s allowance, but she needs to rein in her expenses.’ Bitterness filled him. ‘What about you? No funds required?’
Luke muttered a soft curse. ‘I have everything I need.’
He gritted his teeth and turned to face his brother. ‘Jeffrey does you credit.’
Luke’s eyes widened. ‘Thank you. I try. I brought him because I thought you should have some knowledge of your nephews.’
He enclosed himself in ice. Nephews. Even when they were private they continued the pretence. Luke’s way of keeping Alistair at arm’s length from his son. He glared at his half-brother. ‘Because they are my heirs, after yourself, you mean.’
Luke’s mouth twisted. ‘That is not likely, now you are married.’
Was that enough of a reason for Luke to consider murder? ‘My man of business tells me you refuse to use the allowance your mother set up for you while she was my guardian.’
‘I don’t need your money. Beauworth pays me very well. He at least appreciates my skills.’
His brother had stewarded the Duchy after his father’s death, when Alistair had been otherwise occupied abroad. Luke’s grasping harridan of a mother had run riot with the estate’s income. It had taken Alistair years to refill the coffers. But that was old news and not worth getting into.
‘I believe it is time to rescue my wife.’
Luke heaved a sigh. ‘Then I bid you good day, Alistair.’
‘I will walk you out to the stables.’
‘Making sure I don’t steal the silver on my way.’
The words were spoken loud enough for Alistair to hear and softly enough for him to ignore.
* * *
‘The Duke doesn’t like my father,’ Jeffrey said, feeding another carrot to his pony, Rascal.
Out of the mouths of babes... ‘Siblings often don’t get along well.’ She hadn’t got along well with her older brothers after her parents had died.
‘Father said they used to be good friends when they were my age.’ He reached out and rubbed his pony’s nose. The horse nuzzled his palm, looking for another treat. ‘I’m not to fall out with my brother. Father said. Ever.’
‘What is your brother’s name?’
‘Daniel. He’s two years younger. His pony is smaller than Rascal. We usually ride out with Papa together, but Danny broke his arm two weeks ago.’
‘Oh, I am sorry.’
‘He followed me up the ladder. Now he can’t do anything fun.’ His face crumpled.
‘And you feel partly to blame.’
‘Danny flew the kite up on the roof of the barn and Ben, our man, was too busy mucking out to fetch it down. I should have waited.’
What a handful it must be with two lively boys and no wife to add a civilising influence. ‘Did you ask him to follow you?’
‘I told him to wait at the bottom, but Danny always follows me. I know this.’
‘That is what your papa said?’
He swung on the stall rail, pivoting in a half-circle of drooping misery. ‘I stayed indoors for a week.’
Relief shot through Julia. There were more severe punishments fathers visited upon their sons. Some visited upon wives by husbands also. ‘To help you remember.’
He gave her a shy grin. ‘Papa said he was proud of me for taking my punishment like a man.’
She gave him an encouraging smile. ‘Shall we return to your papa?’
Jeffrey let go of the rail. ‘I read to Danny every day after my lessons.’ These were the tones of a long-suffering older brother. Had she seemed like such a burden to her own older brothers?
They headed up the aisle towards the stable entrance. A change of subject was needed. ‘I expect you will be going away to school soon.’ It was normal for boys of his age to board at a public school.
‘School is expensive,’ Jeffrey said in lowered tones. ‘I go to the Vicar for lessons twice a week and then study at home. Danny is to start next year.’
Really. They were nephews of a duke. As head of the family, Alistair should be making sure they had a good education. If the father didn’t want to send his boys away, they should at least have a proper tutor. The reason why Alistair was not helping seemed obvious. Male pride. On both sides. But why?
Outside, the sunshine dazzled her for a moment. ‘Would you like to go away to school?’
‘And leave Papa and Danny?’ Although he tried to hide it there was a touch of longing in his voice. ‘Papa would be sad. More sad.’
Children understood a great deal more than adults gave them credit for.
He squinted. ‘Papa!’ He waved.
Two tall men strode across the courtyard. Alistair was taller and broader than his brother, but not by much. They were both handsome men, in their prime, one fair, one dark, and as unalike as brothers could be, but only the sight of Alistair made her heart give that funny little hop.
Strangely, Jeffrey was more like his uncle than his father.
A groom emerged from the stable with their visitors’ horses in hand.
The farewells were awkward with Alistair barely unbending enough to offer a stiff bow.
Side by side she and Alistair watched them trot down the drive. ‘Is everything all right?’ she asked, since none of the tension she’d felt in him when his brother arrived had dissipated.
‘He was concerned for my health.’ Ice coated Alistair’s voice.
Why would that not please him? She sensed there was more to it, but clearly he did not want to speak of it. ‘A brotherly concern, then...’ She hesitated.
‘Hardly.’
‘What on earth happened between you and your family?’
‘It is not something I wish to discuss.’
He was shutting her out, the way he always did. ‘We are married, Alistair, like it or not. You need to tell me—’
‘I do not need to tell you anything. If you will excuse me, I have an appointment with my steward.’
He strode off in the direction of the estate office.
A feeling of loss welled up in her chest. What on earth had she said now?
The pain in her chest intensified as she walked back to a house where she felt like a guest. It wasn’t good enough. She deserved more. If not love, then at least respect and affection. And she wasn’t talking about what they got up to in the bedroom. She was, after all, for better or for worse, his Duchess.
If only she didn’t suspect it was for worse. Perhaps the news of her barrenness having sunk in, he was after all regretting his choice.
* * *
‘We generally meet here at Parsings,’ Ellie said, emerging from her carriage to join Julia waiting in the lane where her own coach had dropped her a scant two minutes before. ‘Poor Lady Wiltshire and her rheumatism.’ She glanced up at a sky full of threatening clouds. ‘That is not going to help.’
They turned and walked arm in arm up the front path. ‘Thank you for inviting me,’ Julia replied. ‘I have been looking forward to this all week.’
Looking forward to getting away from Sackfield and Alistair. Not that she’d seen much of him since he’d recovered from his accident. He’d been preoccupied, busy with his business affairs in Lewis’s absence.
The butler admitted them and took them straight through the house to the conservatory, where three other ladies were already gathered. Ellie performed the introductions to Mrs Retson, the Vicar’s wife, a pleasantly plump middle-aged woman; Lady Finney, the Squire’s wife, with iron-grey hair and a gimlet eye; and Lady Wiltshire, a fashionable lady in her fifth decade and clearly a widow of means.
‘That is everyone,’ Lady Wiltshire said. ‘Please, ladies, take a seat, let me pour you some tea.’
The butler bowed himself out.
‘Have you thought any more of my suggestion for an assembly?’ Ellie said over the rim of her cup.
‘I think it is a brilliant idea,’ Mrs Retson said, her eyes bright. ‘We haven’t held an assembly since before the war. We are bound to draw quite a crowd with so many of our neighbours here for the summer. Everyone has been bemoaning the lack of a bell at St Agnes’s for three years, I am sure they will be supportive.’
Lady Finney frowned. ‘It will require some organisation. We will need a dedicated committee.’
‘I take it you are in agreement,’ Ellie said, smiling. ‘What do you think, Your Grace?’
‘I have not had the opportunity to help organise such an ambitious event,’ Julia said, ‘but, given the cause, I think it a worthy endeavour. While I do not feel qualified to lead the charge, I would like to offer to help with the decorations.’
Given her title was by far the highest in the room, if she had insisted on running the whole thing, the other women would have accepted it without demur, no matter their private opinions. But she was being honest with them. The only event she had arranged had been her eldest brother’s wedding breakfast.
‘I will take charge of tickets,’ Mrs Retson said, her eyes gleaming.
‘I will speak with Prosser about the catering,’ Lady Finney said. ‘He will want some watching, that one. Finney is sure he waters his ale, the scoundrel.’
‘You will take charge, then, Marchioness?’ Lady Wiltshire asked.
‘Not at all,’ Ellie said, smiling at the older woman. ‘You know all the great families hereabouts. I would defer to your superior knowledge of who can be engaged for what role. I will deal with the music and the dancing.’
Julia relaxed as the ladies began discussing the merits of one day over another, one nurseryman over another, whether or not waltzing would be permitted and how many tickets should be sold without turning the affair into a terrible squeeze. This was what she had always wanted. To be part of something useful. To make a difference, in some small way.
‘It seems we have our next steps laid out,’ Lady Wiltshire finally declared. ‘We will meet again in two weeks’ time, if that will suit everyone?’
She used her cane to push to her feet and crossed the room to ring for their carriages.
Another woman entered the conservatory and stopped as if startled. Lady Dunstan.
‘Oh,’ the Dowager said. ‘I do beg your pardon, Elmira, I was sure your company must have left by now.’
Lady Wiltshire raised a brow. ‘We are just concluding, Isobel. I believe you know everyone?’ She turned to the room. ‘Lady Dunstan is visiting me for a few days.’
Isobel smiled generally at the company, but her gaze rested longer on Julia’s face. ‘I do indeed know everyone.’ She made a gracious movement with her hand. ‘Please do not let me interrupt your meeting.’
Ellie rose to her feet, her expression polite but not warm. ‘Our business is finished, Lady Dunstan. We were about to leave.’
The Dowager’s warm brown eyes turned from Julia and for a moment her eyes hardened a fraction and her lips stiffened, but then in an instant the warmth was back. ‘Lady Beauworth, how is your family? I gather it is growing apace since I saw you last. Congratulations on your heir and a spare.’
‘Thank you,’ Lady Beauworth said, buttoning her gloves.
Julia offered her hand to her hostess. ‘Thank you for your kind hospitality and your invitation to join your committee.’
‘Thank you, Your Grace,’ the woman said warmly. ‘Your participation is most welcome.’
The other ladies added their farewells, but when Julia made to leave, the Dowager Duchess touched her arm lightly. ‘A word, Your Grace.’
Lady Finney, who had been speaking to her, cast an enquiring look at Julia. Clearly to ignore the woman would be offering a snub that would have the county gossiping for weeks.
Ellie cast her a questioning look and Julia smiled at her. ‘Please, do not wait for me, but tell my coachman I am on my way.’
Lady Wiltshire eyed her guest. ‘If you do not mind, Isobel, I will see the other ladies off.’
‘Please, do not trouble about us,’ Lady Dunstan said. ‘I won’t keep Her Grace but a moment or two.’
The other ladies left the room.
Lady Dunstan gestured for Julia to sit down.
The Dowager gave her a sharp look. ‘I heard the Duke was thrown from his horse. How is he?’
‘He is well.’
The slanting eyes narrowed. ‘Recovered, then?’
‘Completely.’ There was something about the woman’s reaction that gave Julia a sense of unease, made her not want to mention his continuing headaches.
‘Did you speak to him about the dower house?’
‘I mentioned it.’
‘And he refuses his aid.’ She made a dismissive gesture with an elegant hand. ‘It does not surprise me in the least. He has no family feeling at all or he would not have disappeared the way he did. Travelling, he said.’ She made a scornful sound. ‘You can imagine how that made us feel, after leaving us to believe the worst. My poor husband had an apoplexy when he turned up missing when the peace broke.’ She patted Julia’s hand. ‘Well, well. It is all in the past. I am simply glad to have made your acquaintance even if Alistair would keep us apart. Let us continue our friendship, despite him. Come for tea in a day or so. Elmira will not mind. We will have a long and comfortable coze.’
Discomfort slithered down Julia’s spine. Strange to have such a feeling, when the woman was so friendly. She ought to feel sorry for the woman’s feeling of exclusion instead of uncomfortable. ‘I will send you a note and let you know when it is convenient.’
‘Wonderful. Let me see you to the door.’
The Dowager put her arm through Julia’s and they strolled down the corridor leading to the front door.
A young man walking down the stairs stopped short at the sight of them. ‘Aunt,’ he said, ‘there you are. There is something—Bless me! It is you, Your Grace.’
‘You two know each other?’ Lady Dunstan asked.
‘We met in Hyde Park,’ the young man said. ‘Percy Hepple, your cousin, Your Grace. You do remember?’
‘I do.’ She held out her hand. ‘How lovely to meet you again, Mr Hepple. What are you doing in Hampshire?’
‘Serving as my escort,’ Lady Dunstan said, her voice dry. ‘Percy is rusticating. As far from his papa as he can get.’ She lowered her voice. ‘In Dun territory, you know.’
‘Aunt,’ Percy said, colouring up, ‘no need to set rumours about. It is a minor setback, is all. I shall come about when next quarter rolls around.’ He winced. ‘I might drop in on His Grace later this week. See if he might be willing to sport a bit of the ready. Put me dibs in tune again.’ His smile was rather forced.
Julia could only imagine Alistair’s response at this young man applying to him for money.
‘Nonsense,’ his aunt answered before she could say anything. ‘You know very well Alistair will only lecture and prose on about budgeting.’ She gave a light laugh with a brittle edge. ‘It is your father you should approach.’
But Percy wasn’t listening. He was looking at Julia with an odd light in his eye. Indeed, his gaze wandered over her, coming to rest briefly in the area of her chest before returning to her face.
‘You know, Coz, I thought it when we were introduced in the park and I think it again now—we have met somewhere before.’
Aghast, Julia froze. He could not have been at Mrs B.’s the night of the auction. Please, no, not that.
‘I do not believe so,’ she said, horrified by the tremble in her voice.
Percy frowned. ‘I am sure of it. I will think of it, you will see.’
She prayed not.
‘Enough of your flirting,’ Lady Dunstan said lightly, but her eyes were fixed on Percy as if she sensed an underlying truth in his words.
She turned her narrowed eyes on Julia. ‘Come, Your Grace, before your coachman frets about his horses. Please give my regards to my dear stepson, will you not? Tell him a call here would be most welcome. For Percy’s sake, if not for mine.’
Julia’s heart sank. She could already hear the ice in Alistair’s reply when she imparted that message. And dare she ask him if Mr Percy Hepple had been anywhere near Mrs B.’s on the night of the auction?
She shuddered.