The Reclusive Duke Read online

  He was looking somewhat sceptical. 'I assume it is of a romantic nature, Miss Sinclair?'

  'Indeed it is – but also full of adventure as well. I am cognisant of the fact that I am unlikely to find a publisher willing to take me on. However, as I shall not be spending any money on replacing my wardrobe, I intend to use that to pay, if necessary, for the publication myself.'

  He pursed his lips. 'I think you might do better, my dear, concentrating on your appearance instead of wasting your money in such an enterprise.'

  'I care not how I look, sir, I have no intention of marrying. A young lady only dresses to impress a gentleman, does she not? So you must see that there is no necessity for me to bother about my appearance. My clothes are clean and serviceable, and that is quite enough for me.'

  He looked unconvinced. 'I'm not sure that his grace would approve of you spending his money in such a way, my dear. It is provided for the benefit of the children and not for such a frivolous enterprise.'

  'His grace has made it very plain that he wishes to have nothing to do with any of us. I'm quite happy to act as mother to the children until they are old enough to take care of themselves. I am suitably grateful that the duke is prepared to provide for me until I'm no longer needed. Therefore, you must understand that before that time comes I should be self-sufficient.'

  His bushy, black eyebrows shot up under his hair. 'Good heavens, Miss Sinclair, you must not think his grace will cast you out when your duties are done. You will be well provided for so there's no need to pursue this further.' He warmed to his theme. 'I must also reassure you about the other matter, that of the children's welfare. At the moment his grace has serious health problems, but when he's recovered, I can assure you he will be taking a keen interest in his wards.'

  Somewhat disconcerted by his vehemence, Lydia did not respond immediately. The last thing she wanted was for the duke to take any sort of interest in any of them – and especially not a keen one.

  'I apologise if I sounded ungrateful, Mr Digby. His grace has done everything he ought, apart from take us into his own home. I had no notion he was a sickly gentleman, I can understand now why he didn't wish for us to reside with him. Four lively children would not be beneficial to a gentleman suffering from ill health.'

  'Exactly so, you have grasped the situation perfectly, my dear. If you are content to remain here, then I am sure that his grace will be content to leave matters as they are.' He smiled benevolently and nodded towards the scattered papers. 'As to this other business, I shall say no more about it. If you do not overspend your allowance, then I am sure his grace can have no objection to your using it on whatever project you wish.'

  'Thank you, sir, I give you my word there will be nothing untoward in my accounts. I do beg your pardon, I have been remiss in my duties as hostess. Can I offer you any refreshments?'

  'I thank you, but I have to be elsewhere. If you would care to hand me any bills you might have received over these past two weeks, I shall be on my way.'

  Once this transaction was completed he departed, promising to return in four weeks. She was to contact him at his office at Hemingford Court if she encountered any problems.

  *

  Everett was dozing in the shade on the terrace when he heard the unmistakable sound of children's voices coming from somewhere in the trees that run along the edge of the park. He pushed himself upright and squinted into the sunshine, but at first he couldn't see them. Then two small shapes became distinguishable in the shrubbery at the edge of the park on that side of the house.

  He had lived here all his life and as far as he was aware no village child had ever had the temerity to venture onto his land without permission. He didn't like children – in fact he preferred animals to humans, even adult ones.

  His three wolfhounds were sprawled at his feet and always ready to do his bidding. 'Benji, go seek.' He gestured towards the woods and the largest of the three raced away, long pink tongue lolling from the side of his open mouth.

  No sooner had he given his command than he regretted his actions. The animal wouldn't harm the intruders but he might well cause them to be terrified for there were not many adults, let alone children, who were not intimidated by the size of his dogs.

  He cursed and the young footman appeared by magic at his side. 'Something wrong, your grace?'

  'There are village urchins in the trees over there and I sent Benji to investigate. Go after him and bring him back before he causes them undue distress.'

  He could have yelled at his dog to return, but that would be undignified. A duke must always remember his position in the world.

  The young man set off willingly after the dog. Everett shaded his eyes from the sun but couldn't see the children or his animal. If any harm had come to them because of his actions he would never forgive himself. He must pray that they had just run off and his hound had followed.

  After an anxious wait the red-faced footman returned. 'I couldn't find the hound or the children, your grace. Shall I send someone from the stables to look for them?'

  'Take me inside first, then do that. What is your name? If you are to wheel me about for the next week or so I need to know this.'

  'Bates, your grace.' The young man bowed.

  'Have you been employed here long?'

  'Two years this September, your grace.'

  Michaels helped Everett onto the daybed and Bates hurried off to the stables. If this footman had been working here so long how was it that he didn't know his name – in fact, didn't even recognise him? This would not do; there were only a dozen or so employed here, he should know all their names and faces.

  In future, he would do better. Indeed, once he was on his feet he would replenish his wardrobe, the main wing of the house, and get Frobisher to engage a full complement of staff. When this was done, he might even consider inviting his neighbours to dinner. That's if they cared to renew their acquaintance – it was five years since he had interacted with any of his peers.

  Bates came back to tell him two outside men had gone in search of the missing dog. Benji was the most independent of the three and frequently wandered off so Everett was not unduly bothered by his continued absence.

  The three hounds he kept as his companions were all male – the breeding bitches were housed outside. There was a constant demand for the puppies and his kennelman made sure every litter was the best it could be. There was also a small stud on the estate – he had two magnificent stallions and half a dozen broodmares. The progeny from these were also sold for a tidy sum at Tattersalls in London. He had no need of the extra money but enjoyed the challenge of breeding a horse that would impress its owner.

  *

  'We should not go in the woods, Richard, it will be trespassing,' Emma said.

  'No it's not – we have as much right to be in there as anyone else. The duke's our guardian, isn't he?'

  'He is, but he doesn't want to know us and I'm sure would be most displeased if found us in his woods. And Aunt Lydia will be even more cross if she was ever to find out we had strayed so far.'

  Her brother ignored her concerns and continued along the narrow path so she had no option but to follow him.

  They climbed a few trees, scared a few pheasants, before realising they were lost. 'We promised to be back for luncheon, Richard, and it must be well past midday now. I told you we should never have come in here.'

  Her brother pointed to the sunlight filtering in through the trees a little way ahead. 'We will be out of the trees soon and then can find our way home easily.'

  She did not have his confidence, but ran after him, calling for him to slow down as she wasn't sure they were going to emerge on the correct side of the wood.

  He stopped, turned around and yelled at her. 'We've been going in the wrong direction, Emma, we are on the edge of the park and I can see the duke's house.'

  She waved, hoping he would understand her gesture and stop shouting. Voices carried across an empty space in a way they didn't whe
n in the middle of a forest.

  On arriving at his side she stood in wonder and gazed at the magnificent building. 'I believe there must be hundreds of windows. I think it would take an hour to walk from one end to the other.'

  He moved closer to her, needing her reassurance in the face of such splendour. 'I think I would get lost if I was living there, Emma, I much prefer it where we are. I'm glad he didn't want us.'

  The grounds appeared to be deserted, as was the terrace that ran along the length of this wing of the edifice. There was a wall encasing the terrace at the end nearest to them and she shuddered at the thought there might be someone lurking behind it.

  'Look at those steps, and see, there's a maze over there – at least I think that's what it is. Shall we go and investigate?'

  'No, we must go home at once before we're discovered.' She took his arm and pulled him back to the trees. He grumbled as they tried to retrace their steps and find the narrow path that would lead them back into the gardens of the Dower House. She froze. A large animal was chasing them and it was too late to run.

  Was there time to climb a tree? Were there wild boar in this wood? She dragged her brother behind a tree and pushed him into the branches. Not a moment too soon as a huge, brindle hound bounded into view. The dog was wagging its tail and stood upright on its hind legs in an effort to reach them.

  'It doesn't look fierce, Emma, it looks really friendly.' Before she could prevent him, her brother slithered down the trunk and threw his arms around the huge beast's neck.

  'Good boy, good boy, have you come to show us the way home?'

  Emma joined him on the ground and the dog licked her hand and nudged her with his massive head. 'You are a lovely fellow, stop licking me and let me have a good look at you. Sit, boy.'

  The dog obeyed her instruction immediately. 'He must have heard us calling and has come to help,' Richard insisted.

  She wasn't so sure, she feared that close behind this animal would be his owner. They would be discovered and severely punished for their misbehaviour.

  'Go home, boy, go home at once.'

  This instruction the dog ignored. He remained sitting on the dirt – even in this position he was almost as tall as her brother.

  'We want to go home to the Dower House, boy, can you show us the way?'

  'He won't know what you're saying, Richard, and I think we'd better get away from here before we are found.'

  The animal licked her hand and then was on its feet and sniffing the ground. Then the animal trotted forward, glancing over his shoulder as if to see they were following him.

  'See, I told you he was clever and could take us home.'

  As she had no idea in which direction to go, she thought they might as well follow the dog for they could not be more lost than they already were.

  Fifteen minutes later they were back where they had started earlier that day. Richard flung his arms around the dog and kissed him. She did the same. They fussed him for a while and then reluctantly told him to go home.

  'Quickly, I can hear Sally shouting for us. We have been away too long.' She grabbed her brother's hand and pulled him through the shrubbery and across the grass to the back door. 'Don't say anything about the dog, we must just say we forgot the time.'

  He looked over his shoulder. 'He's gone, he will find his way home without any trouble. He follows his nose, you know.'

  Aunt Lydia was not impressed by their late appearance. 'You will go to your room immediately and remain there the rest of the day. I am most displeased with you both. If you can't be trusted to remain in the grounds and return when you hear the clock strike twelve for your luncheon, then you must remain where you can be seen.'

  'I'm sorry, Aunt Lydia, we promise we won't do it again. It's such fun here, it's easy to forget we should come home.'

  Her brother echoed her apology. 'I'm sorry too, we didn't intend to worry you or cause you any trouble.'

  'Very well, I shall say no more about it this time. You will go upstairs, wash the dirt from your person, and then spend the remainder of the day writing an account of what you did. You may draw a picture to go with it if you wish.'

  Once they were safely upstairs Emma breathed a sigh of relief. 'We were lucky this time, Richard, but we must be more circumspect in future.'

  Being obliged to remain indoors on such a lovely day was a severe punishment but Emma thought they deserved it. They were given permission to play with the twins before the little ones went to their beds.

  Sally had doused the last candle and Emma was completing her prayers when her brother crept in. 'You must come with me, I can hear the dog crying in the garden. I think he might be hurt.'

  *

  When Everett retired the missing dog had still not returned. He told Bates that if the animal was not safely home by morning the search must be widened. It was, of course, possible a poacher had taken the dog. Benji was a gentle giant, fierce if he needed to be, but if approached gently he would respond in kind.

  He was also valuable and anyone prepared to risk the gallows or transportation by poaching on his land would not think twice about stealing the dog. When he discovered the culprit, they would regret their rash action.

  For the first time in years he slept well and woke the next morning eager to face the day. He was less sanguine when he discovered his favourite hound was still missing.

  'I want every available man out searching. Make sure the gamekeeper is aware, as he too can help. Every cottage and house in the village and surrounding countryside must be investigated. I will have my dog back by the end of the day.'

  Chapter Four

  Lydia become so engrossed in her writing that it wasn't until the candles flickered and went out she understood how late it was. She had not closed the shutters in the library so there was sufficient moonlight filtering in for her to see perfectly well. Her staff were abed long ago, she didn't ask them to keep the same strange hours as she did. She walked across to the window, which was open, and leaned out to listen to the sound of the nightingales singing in the trees that run around the boundary of the grounds.

  Good heavens! Whatever was that dreadful noise? The hair on the back of her neck stood to attention and her hands clenched on the windowsill. Then she relaxed as she recognised the sound. There was a canine trapped somewhere and it was whining for attention.

  A sensible young lady would have exited through the front door, but she just hopped over the windowsill and went in search of the animal. 'Where are you, old fellow? I'm coming to help you, shush now, or you will wake everybody up.'

  In answer the dog began to yelp excitedly, and she followed the noise to the stables. As yet these were unoccupied by any horses although she had every intention of purchasing ponies for the children and a riding horse for herself. The cob which pulled the gig lived outside in the meadow.

  A sudden scuttle in the shadows made her jump. It sounded as if the place was alive with rodents. What they needed were a couple of cats – she really must spend more time managing her small household and less on her novel.

  The dog was scratching at a closed door. She unlatched it and was knocked flat as its two front paws landed on her. The huge dog then compounded his offence by attempting to lick her face.

  'Get off me, you silly beast, I must get to my feet and cannot do so with you on top of me.'

  The animal cocked his head as if listening to her and then the weight was gone and she was free to rise. Two small shapes erupted from the darkness and Emma and Richard flung themselves onto her lap.

  'Are you hurt, Aunt Lydia? We saw him knock you over,' Emma said.

  'What are you both doing down here at this time of night?'

  Richard replied. 'We heard the dog crying and came down to see if we could help.'

  The child hesitated as if he had something else to say, but his sister glared at him and the boy said nothing else.

  'Well, the dog obviously got shut in somehow. Fetch him some water, both of you, and then we
shall send him on his way.'

  The animal drank greedily but then refused to depart despite their encouragement and shooing. Eventually she abandoned the attempt. 'We cannot remain out here any longer, my loves, we must return to our beds. The dog has water and is free to go whenever he wishes. He brought himself here and I'm sure he can take himself back from whence he came.'

  The front door stood wide open – her niece and nephew had come out the correct way. Before she could stop him, the hound bounded ahead of them and vanished into the house, much to the delight of the children.

  They ran ahead, and had the good sense not to start shouting for the animal to return. 'Quickly, off to bed, I shall look for the dog and put him outside.'

  'Good night, Aunt Lydia, we shall see you in the morning.' They scampered up the stairs leaving her alone in the entrance hall.

  She returned to the library, closed the window, and with a candlestick in one hand looked for the wretched animal. He was nowhere to be found and she was obliged to abandon the search. It would be light soon and she had yet to have any sleep. The twins always rushed into her bedchamber as soon as they were awake regardless of the fact that they had their own nursemaids to take care of them nowadays.

  The dog was a handsome beast, well-groomed and well fed, not the property of a villager or tenant. Therefore, she decided, he must belong to the duke's kennels. She would send him home with the gardener's boy tomorrow.

  As she was falling asleep it did occur to her that if the hound was valuable, which he obviously was, they would be looking for him. He might as well remain with them until someone came to claim him.

  The next morning she was woken by the curtains being drawn back and the delicious aroma of hot chocolate wafting towards her. For a moment she revelled in the sensation then her heart sunk. 'Mary, what time is it? Why haven't the little ones come to see me as they always do?'

  'Don't you worry, miss, the twins are with Miss Emma and Master Richard. They're playing on the grass with that big dog they found yesterday.'