The Duke's Challenge Read online

  We are yours, respectfully….

  Jack threw the letter down and dropped his head into his hands. How could he have been so stupid, so immersed in his own misery, own gratification, that he had all but ruined an innocent young woman? As Charlotte’s only male relative, however remote the connection, his duty was to protect her, not cause her ruination. The lawyers, for all their impertinence, had the right of the matter. His responsibility was to rectify matters and he would do so immediately. He wasn’t sure how Charlotte would react to his solution.

  Chapter Nine

  At ten o’clock Charlotte, dressed in her brown cambric dress, children at her heels, was on her way to the freshly cleaned breakfast parlour.

  ‘Annie says we can eat our meals in there and we don’t have to have trays upstairs anymore,’ Beth informed her.

  ‘I am delighted to hear it.’ She could hear activity downstairs and hurried to the balustrade to discover what was going on. In the hall were two unknown footman, on their knees, scrubbing the boards. ‘Good heavens! I didn’t realize men servants cleaned.’ Charlotte smiled down at her brother and sister. ‘Thurston Hall will soon be clean and tidy and then it will feel much more like a home to us.’

  Harry hung dangerously over the rail and both Beth and Charlotte stepped forward to pull him back. ‘Don’t climb on there, Harry. It’s a long way to fall down.’

  ‘But, Lottie, I can’t see over. I’m too short and all these bumpy animals get in the way of looking.’

  Beth ran her hand over the carvings laughing at her brother’s protests. ‘I love these; they’re the best thing in this house. Everything else is dank and dirty and the ceilings are covered with spiders.’ Charlotte took her brother’s hand. ‘Let’s go down immediately and see exactly what’s being done and by whom.’ She deliberately ignored Beth’s complaints, but secretly she felt the same. The house was just too big and too old to make it truly comfortable.

  Both footmen jumped up, damp sack-aprons flapping. ‘Good morning, Miss Carstairs, Miss Beth and Master Harry,’ they chorused, obviously well-rehearsed.

  She nodded. ‘Good morning, you’re doing an excellent job here, well done.’ They bowed and Charlotte swept through feeling rather like royalty, not an ordinary soldier’s daughter.

  Harry and Beth ran ahead and vanished into the room before her. There had been a buffet laid out on the sideboard; which included several china plates containing sliced ham, sweet rolls, bread, plum cake, jars of preserves, butter and a jug of milk.

  The children were standing in awe, gazing at the feast. ‘Look at all this, Lottie. It’s a banquet. Is it all for us?’ Beth asked, never having seen so much food in one place.

  ‘I believe it must be,’ Charlotte replied. Such extravagance surprised her in the present financial circumstances. A door opened in the panelling and another new member of staff emerged.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Carstairs. I’m Mary. I’m to ask as to what you would like to drink. There’s tea or coffee or chocolate? And would you like some coddled eggs, or such like?’

  ‘Thank you, but I think we have more than enough already. I would like chocolate, what about you two? Both children declined a hot drink quite content with the milk.

  They were seated round the white-damask covered table when Jack strolled in. Harry was the first to spot him. His eyes rounded and his mouth fell open allowing a half-eaten mouthful to tumble out. Automatically Charlotte corrected his table manners. ‘Harry, that’s disgusting. Kindly eat with your mouth closed in future.’

  The little boy swallowed hastily before speaking. ‘But, Lottie, Cousin Jack’s here and he’s all dressed up.’

  Charlotte’s head whipped round. ‘My word, Cousin, you look smart as paint, I feel quite drab in my work-gown.’ He bowed, obviously pleased his appearance met with approval.

  ‘You’re wearing a stock, Cousin Jack and your boots are polished. Is there to be a party today?’ In Harry’s limited experience such sartorial elegance always heralded a celebration of some sort.

  ‘No, young man, not today. But the militia are here. Would you like to come and see the soldiers when you’ve finished breakfast?’

  Without waiting for permission from his sister Henry threw down his cutlery. ‘I’m finished already.’

  ‘And so am I,’ Beth said. ‘Can I come to, please?’

  ‘Of course.’ He quirked an eyebrow. ‘Is that acceptable with you?’

  ‘Yes, quite acceptable, if you’re sure they’ll not be in the way.’

  ‘Will you join us? There are things we need to discuss, my dear.’

  ‘I need to meet with Mrs Thomas, the housekeeper, but I’ll come directly from there to join you outside.’

  ‘Excellent. I shall be watching for you.’ He ruffled Harry’s hair. ‘Come along, bantlings, we must not keep Captain Forsythe waiting’

  The door closed behind them leaving Charlotte confused. The urbane gentleman dressed in navy blue superfine, waistcoat and neatly tied stock, with his buff breeches spotless, his Hessians so shiny you could see your face in them, was almost a stranger. Crossly she glanced down at her own shabby dress and was tempted to run upstairs and change. She did have one other morning gown, a fetching sprigged muslin in daffodil yellow, but this wasn’t suitable for the domestic chores she envisaged being involved in that morning.

  She smiled; Jack had also got someone to cut his hair. She rather liked the short style, and having the thick dark hair brushed forward obscured much of his scar. Why had he taken the children? Up to this point he had avoided them. What had caused this volte face? Intrigued, she abandoned her half eaten breakfast, dabbed her lips with a napkin and hurried to her appointment with Mrs Thomas.

  Her meeting was brief and she left, certain the housekeeper would be able to run the house far better than she. Delighted this was one responsibility she could safely delegate, she rushed through the house to keep her rendezvous outside.

  The double front doors were standing open and she could see the soldiers grouped in the turning circle. She ducked her head, trying to assess how many there were. It was hard to tell, but she rather thought there were at least two dozen horses milling about.

  On arriving at the front step, she glanced round. Where were the children? Then she saw Jack, Harry in his arms, conversing earnestly with a man, who by his appearance was obviously Captain Forsythe. Beth was close by, mesmerised by the array of military splendour. She was too young to remember their time on the continent when such sights were an everyday occurrence.

  Charlotte realized he must have sensed her coming as his head turned and he smiled a welcome. Her chest constricted and her knees felt strangely weak. She almost turned and went in to the safety of domestic issues, but something compelled her to walk across to join him.

  Both men bowed politely. ‘Miss Carstairs, may I present Captain Forsythe to you?’

  The soldier bowed. ‘Delighted to meet you, Miss Carstairs, but could wish the situation could have been otherwise.’

  She nodded. ‘And I’m pleased to meet you, Captain Forsythe.’

  Formalities over, Jack told her what was to happen next. ‘The troops are going to search the grounds, both mounted and on foot, but if they find nothing suspicious, they will widen their search to the surrounding villages.’

  ‘How long will this take?’

  Jack looked to the captain for an answer.

  ‘We will be thorough, Miss Carstairs. Three incidents in two weeks indicate a serious breach of the peace. We will bivouac in the barns and continue searching until we apprehend the culprits or are certain they have fled the vicinity.’

  ‘That is good news, Captain. It’s not a pleasant to be feeling constantly under threat.’ She turned to Jack. ‘You wished to speak to me? Shall I wait in the library until you’ve finished here?’

  He nodded. ‘I’ll not be long. If you would wait a moment, I’ll come with you.’ He put Harry back on the ground. ‘Harry, you must go in with your sister. Your nursema
id is waiting. I believe she has some tasks for you.’

  ‘Can we come out again to see the soldiers later, please, Cousin Jack?’

  ‘If you behave yourself, lad. Now, run along, Charlotte and I have things to discuss.’

  Charlotte had watched this exchange with annoyance. The children were her responsibility, they should look to her for permission. She didn’t wait as requested, but left, head high, and stalked into the hall, displeasure obvious in every step she took.

  *

  Puzzled, Jack watched her go. What burr had lodged under her saddle this time? She was as unpredictable as a windmill in a storm. Impatiently he turned back to the waiting captain.

  ‘Report to me at noon, Captain Forsythe, I wish to be kept fully informed of your progress. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, your grace.’ The captain clicked his heels and bowed.

  Jack spotted a horse cantering down the drive and cursed under his breath. Here was the damn doctor. What did he want? Charlotte was recovered and Jenkins was beyond medical aid. Scowling he stepped forward to greet this uninvited guest.

  ‘Good morning, Dr Andrews, are we expecting you?’

  The young man swung down from the saddle tossing his reins to a newly arrived stable boy. ‘Good day, your grace. Miss Carstairs sent a message to call when I was in the vicinity. I believe she wants some local information from me.’

  Jack didn’t like this man; he was too young, too personable. Far closer to Charlotte’s age than he was, and just the sort of man to turn her head. Why would a young girl of nineteen summers want to marry him, an impecunious, imperfect specimen, when she could have someone like the doctor? His mouth curved – being a duke should tip the balance for him.

  ‘Miss Carstairs is not receiving today. The shock of the murder yesterday, you understand. Perhaps you could call back in a few days’ time?’

  Dr Andrews appeared confused. Jack glanced over his shoulder and was annoyed to see Charlotte waving merrily from behind the library window. He could hardly send him packing after this. He fixed a smile to his face. It did not reassure the young doctor.

  ‘It would appear that she has changed her mind. I have estate business to attend to, so I shall bid you good day.’

  *

  Charlotte shook her head in disbelief as she saw Jack storm away like a petulant child. Sometimes he was more immature than Harry! She supposed their talk would have to wait until he recovered his temper. She moved to the chairs grouped informally in front of the empty fire place. She supposed she ought to have a chaperone; it would not do to be thought to be involved in two illicit relationships. She was still giggling at the absurdity when Dr Andrews was announced by one of the footman.

  ‘Come in, sir, it is good of you to ride over. I expect you have heard about poor Jenkins?’

  He nodded his face serious. ‘I have, Miss Carstairs; a bad business indeed. I see the militia are here, no doubt they will catch the perpetrators if they are still in the area.’

  ‘I do hope so. But this is not why I asked to see you. Please be seated, sir.’ She waited until he was settled before continuing. ‘I would normally have approached the vicar, but as you are aware, we do not have one in Thurston at the moment,’ she paused, marshalling her thoughts.

  The doctor appeared rather uncomfortable, glancing frequently at the open door. To reassure him she smiled. The young man flushed and fiddled with his stock as though it was too tight.

  ‘Are you quite well, Dr Andrews?’ She stood up and tugged at the bell strap, relieved it didn’t pull away from the ceiling in a cloud of dust. ‘I shall send for some refreshments. It is very remiss of me not have done so at once.’

  He found his voice. ‘I am not ill, thank you for enquiring so kindly, Miss Carstairs. It’s warm in here, that’s all.’

  ‘Please feel free to open a window, sir.’ Charlotte supposed he was overheated by his ride, it certainly wasn’t especially warm in the library.

  A parlour-maid appeared in the doorway and Charlotte arranged for coffee to be fetched. ‘Now, sir, where was I? Oh yes, information about this area. Could you tell me how long Thurston village has been so neglected?’

  The doctor seemed happy to talk of anything as long as it wasn’t his state of health. ‘I do not imagine you would have been aware, Miss Carstairs, that the old Lord Thurston became unwell in his declining years. Confused mentally and unable to run the estate.’

  ‘I understand, but did he not have a factor, a bailiff, or estate manager to organise things for him?’

  ‘No, at least there were none when I arrived just over three years ago.’ He smiled. ‘My small estate, which runs parallel to Thurston Hall, provides me with sufficient income to live comfortably. I practise medicine as a hobby, not a necessity.’

  She nodded, glad that mystery had been explained. She had wondered why a physician should wish to carry out his trade in such a poor locality. ‘Then I am delighted you decided to do so, sir.’ She touched her scar. ‘My situation might have been far worse without your intervention.’

  ‘It is kind of you to say so, Miss Carstairs. I had intended to call on you in a day or two to remove the sutures. They are more than ready to come out and I believe you will feel far more comfortable when they are.’

  ‘I admit they do pull; it will be a relief to be able to put my hair up once more.’

  Her intention, when she had sent for the doctor, had been to ask for advice about hiring labour. But as Jack was obviously up to snuff again, and intended to take over this responsibility himself, her questions were redundant.

  ‘I wished to ask you where the nearest church is. I don’t wish to miss another service if it’s possible to walk there.’

  ‘I go to the next village, it is a drive of about thirty minutes. I should be delighted to escort you and the children tomorrow morning, if you should wish to accompany me?’

  She hesitated. She would dearly love to go. With the children as chaperones surely there could be no breach of propriety? ‘I should love to accompany you, sir; how thoughtful of you to offer.’

  He stood, bowing low, his eyes glowing with pleasure. ‘In that case, Miss Carstairs, I shall take my leave. My carriage is commodious so there will be ample space for your maid as well.’

  ‘Thank you, there does not appear to be a suitable vehicle here. It’s something I shall have to look into.’ She fingered her scar. ‘I don’t suppose you have your bag with you, Dr Andrews? I should dearly like these out before I appear in public tomorrow.’

  Immediately he became professional. ‘I have what I need my saddlebag; it is necessary for me to boil my instruments as I have found that this avoids the risk of infection.’

  Charlotte rang the bell for a second time. The same maid appeared assuming she had been summoned to collect the coffee tray. ‘Sarah, it is Sarah isn’t it?’

  The girl bobbed a curtsy. ‘Yes, Miss Carstairs, I’m Sarah Cook.’

  ‘Good, kindly show Dr Andrews out, but wait for him to return and then escort him to the kitchen.’

  She sat down again to wait for the doctor to return with his equipment. Then she heard footsteps in the passageway and braced herself for a lively confrontation with Jack.

  ‘Charlotte, have you been alone in here with that man, all this time?’

  ‘I have, Cousin, the door was wide open, and he behaved like a perfect gentleman.’

  In answer he slammed the library door. He turned to face her. She shivered, waiting for the next tirade.

  ‘You will not see that man alone again; do I make myself clear?’

  She glared at him. ‘I shall see whomsoever I please, in whatever manner I please. My behaviour is none of your concern.’

  He stepped closer. ‘God’s teeth! Do not argue with me. I am master in this house and I expect to be obeyed.’

  ‘If it is acceptable for you to be in here alone with me, then why is it not for my physician to do the same?’ She hoped the tremor in her voice was not apparent.

&
nbsp; He closed the gap between them in one stride. ‘It is acceptable, as you so quaintly put it, my dear, because you are to be my wife.’

  Charlotte gasped and sank deeper into the sofa, closing her eyes in shock.

  ‘God damn it to hell! That is not how I meant to tell you.’ She felt the sofa dip. ‘I am sorry, sweetheart, that was clumsy of me.’ Still she kept her face averted, but his fingers closed around her chin and forced her head up. ‘Look at me, please. Good, that is much better. Now, listen to me. You have been totally compromised; staying here, alone, unchaperoned has all but ruined your reputation. I cannot allow that. For all your accusations, Charlotte, I am no rogue. I know what’s expected of a gentleman.’ He paused, studying her reaction. ‘Well, what do you say?’

  She drew a shaky breath. ‘I have no wish to marry you, nor anyone else, for that matter.’

  He smiled and gathered her trembling hands in his. ‘I know you don’t, and neither do I, but we have no choice, my dear. You have the children to consider; although Beth is only ten, she will be tarnished by this if we do not rectify matters immediately.’

  ‘Is there no other way, nothing else we can do?’

  Jack shook his head firmly. ‘No; I have sent word for Mr Peterson, from the next village, to call. I shall have him read the bans at Thurston church tomorrow. That will allow you three weeks to prepare your trousseau.’

  ‘Trousseau? How can I make new clothes with no money to purchase the materials?’ She attempted to remove her hands but he, for some of reason, was running his thumbs up and down the backs, making her pulse skip erratically.

  ‘I have good news, Charlotte. There are funds, not much, but sufficient for our needs. The lawyers are returning on Monday with the necessary papers.’

  She tried again to extricate her hands. Reluctantly he let her go. ‘You have no carriage, Jack, so I can’t go to Ipswich to purchase what I need. I cannot be married without replenishing our wardrobes.’ She sat back believing she had, at least, managed to postpone the ceremony. Three weeks - it did not bear thinking of!