The Duke's Secret Heir Read online

  ‘The Duchess. My Duchess?’

  Stevens grinned. ‘Aye, Your Grace. Mr Grisham brought her around here. Let me see, it must’ve been the day you left for London. She met Old Joshua and then the very next day she comes again, bringing him a scarlet kerchief and a new tobacco pouch, and telling him how glad she is that the stables are in such good hands. Turned him up sweet, she did.’ He glanced past the Duke and his grin widened still further. ‘See for yourself.’

  Max turned. His head groom was standing in the archway, fists on his hips as he watched the stable-hands pull the carriage away. A laugh bubbled up inside him: Joshua’s white hair had been brushed flat and he looked cleaner than he had ever seen him before in a fresh shirt and with his new red kerchief around his neck.

  ‘Good day to you, Joshua,’ he called and the man came slowly across. Max waved a hand around the yard. ‘You have been busy here and about time, too.’

  The old man scowled. ‘Well, if we’re to be having visitors again then we needs to smarten ourselves up, don’t we?’

  ‘Visitors?’ Max queried.

  ‘Aye. The new mistress says it’ll be like the old days, with the family living here now.’ The man’s faded eyes gleamed. ‘There’ll be guests and the like, and they’ll need stabling for their fine horses.’

  Max folded his arms. ‘We have fine horses of our own and you’ve never seen the need to clear up before.’

  ‘No one’s ever taken an interest before,’ retorted the old man, looking his master boldly in the eye. ‘The mistress says she wants to be proud of her stables. And she says I deserves to rest more, too, so I’ve agreed to let young fellow-me-lad here get on with running the place.’

  He jerked a thumb at Stevens, who nodded.

  ‘Aye, that’s right, but I’ll be coming to you for advice, Joshua, like Her Grace suggested.’

  ‘Aye, well, mind you do,’ barked the old man before turning his stern gaze back to Max. ‘If that’s all, Yer Grace, I’ll be getting on. I promised the mistress I’d have the stables spick and span for her by the morning and if I don’t watch they stable lads they’ll be playing cards in the barn instead of cleaning the harnesses.’

  ‘See what I mean, Your Grace?’ murmured Stevens as the old man walked away. ‘It’s a transformation. Not that I mind at all, if it means he’ll let me get this place in order.’ The groom looked at him from under his bushy brows. ‘We will be staying for a while, won’t we, Your Grace? There’s a deal of work to be done, but it will take time.’

  ‘Then I think we must stay,’ agreed Max. ‘I have neglected my duties here for far too long.’

  He strode off to the house, making his way to the small door in the rustic that led directly to the estate offices. He found Tony Grisham sitting at the big table, papers and maps spread before him. He waved the steward back into his seat and took a chair opposite him.

  ‘I have driven direct from town,’ he said, in response to Tony’s greeting. ‘And if there is any wine left in that decanter I would be glad to take a glass with you.’

  ‘Of course, Your Grace.’ Tony filled a wine glass and handed it over. ‘Was your business there successful?’

  ‘Yes, on the whole, although there is much more to be done. How go things here?’

  ‘Very well,’ said Tony, surprising him. ‘The staffing matters have been resolved.’

  ‘You have found a lady’s maid for the Duchess?’

  ‘I didn’t, Your Grace. The Duchess has appointed Alice, one of the chambermaids and Mrs Greenwood’s niece, at that. The girl is keen to advance and the mistress thinks she will do very well. That left a vacancy for another chambermaid and the mistress suggested we appoint Old Joshua’s granddaughter to the post. And talking of Joshua...’ Tony hunted around on his desk and handed Max a piece of paper. ‘Here’s the list of horses we plan to sell, with your approval. I have gone through it with Stevens and Joshua and they have agreed the best horses to keep.’

  ‘And the Dowager is happy with this?’ Max saw Tony hesitate and he barked, ‘The truth, if you please.’

  Tony said carefully, ‘I believe she was a little tearful when the mistress explained it.’ When Max made a face he grinned. ‘Mrs Greenwood told me she went off into hysterics and would have set the household by the ears if the Duchess had not stuck some burnt feathers under her nose. Apparently that brought her round pretty quickly.’ He smothered his grin with an apologetic glance at the Duke. ‘I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but you said you wanted the truth.’

  ‘So the Duchess had a hand in this, too,’ exclaimed Max, throwing the paper back on the table. ‘Good heavens, I have only been away a week! What other havoc has my wife wreaked upon the household?’

  Tony’s brows went up. ‘Why, none at all, Your Grace. She has acquainted herself with all the household staff and a good number of your tenants. And when she discovered the damp in the wash house was making one of the laundry maids wheezy, she moved her up to the nursery to help Matlock. That meant we could take in one of villagers’ daughters to work in the laundry.’ Tony shrugged. ‘The new girl’s simple-minded, but she works hard and the others look after her very well. And now the Duchess has taken charge of the household I have more time to go through the mountain of papers that has been building up since your father’s time. If Your Grace will forgive me for saying so, I think the Duchess has made a pretty good start here.’

  * * *

  Max recalled Tony’s words as he made his way through the house to his bedchamber. Everything was quiet and orderly, yet there was a different atmosphere, the gloominess had gone. Blinds had been put up, shutters opened and fragrant floral displays adorned the side tables. A particularly colourful arrangement had been placed on the drum table that stood in the centre of the cavernous entrance hall.

  Like the old days.

  Old Joshua’s words came back to him. He had not seen flowers like this since his mother had been Duchess. She had died when he and Hugo were still at school and somehow the habit of bringing fresh flowers into the house had been lost. And much more had been lost, too, he thought as he ran up the main stairs. The laughter had gone from the house, as well as what little affection he and Hugo had ever known. Max had no illusions, his mother had been a selfish, frivolous woman, interested only in her own pleasures, but occasionally it pleased her to lavish affection upon her children. Those loving gestures, infrequent and carelessly given, had acted upon Max like rain in the desert. He had worshipped the laughing beautiful goddess that was his mother, lived for those small moments of tenderness, so different from the dutiful, false affection of the females the old Duke had purchased to initiate his sons into the ways of love.

  Love! Max almost laughed at the memory. Ellen was the only woman whom he had ever loved and look what it had cost him.

  * * *

  Flynn, the Duke’s manservant, was waiting in the bedchamber with a fresh set of clothes. Max put on the embroidered white-silk waistcoat and wandered over to the window as he buttoned it. Although they were not adjoining, his rooms were on the same side of the house as Ellen’s and he wondered what she thought of the view. Would she love this place, as he had done, before his father had effectively banished him from Rossenhall by making it plain his presence here was unnecessary, unwelcome, even? Would Jamie like living here? Glancing down, he saw the Duchess was on one of the lower terraces. Jamie was with her and they were making their way towards the lake.

  ‘Your coat, Your Grace.’

  ‘What?’

  Max turned to see Flynn holding up his coat of blue superfine. Quickly he thrust his arms into it, barely giving the valet time to brush the creases from the shoulders before hurrying away.

  * * *

  By the time he caught up with them they were at the water’s edge, throwing pieces of bread on to the water for the ducks. He could hear Jamie’s chil
dish laughter as the birds fought noisily for the treats. Ellen was crouching beside him, one arm around her son to stop him toppling headlong into the lake as he launched each fresh crumb into the air.

  ‘If you make them too fat, they will not be able to swim.’

  His comment brought Ellen’s head round quickly. She rose, keeping one hand on Jamie’s shoulder, and smiled. There was a becoming colour in her cheek, but that would be from the fresh air. Max would not fool himself into thinking she was truly pleased to see him.

  ‘If you had sent ahead, we should have been at the door to welcome you.’

  ‘Unnecessary, I assure you. And Jamie would prefer to be here.’ He had been standing with his hands behind his back, but now he brought forth the object he had been hiding. ‘I thought you might like to try this.’

  Jamie gave a delighted squeal. ‘A boat! Look, Mama, a boat!’

  ‘It is a yacht,’ said Max, holding it out.

  ‘You brought this from town for him?’ asked Ellen.

  ‘I have brought something very different for him from London,’ said Max. ‘No, this was in one of the attic cupboards. It is a replica of my grandfather’s yacht. It was made for Hugo and me. Shall we see if it is still seaworthy, Jamie?’

  ‘Ooh, yes, if you please, Duke!’

  Max gently lowered the white-painted hull into the water, feeling inordinately pleased when the little yacht bobbed merrily on the water. The ducks paddled away, realising their feast was at an end.

  Jamie jumped up and down impatiently beside him. ‘May I hold the string? Please, Duke!’

  ‘Very well.’ Max handed over the cord and tied the end loosely around the boy’s wrist. ‘Hold on to that, Captain Jamie, and you will not lose your ship.’

  Jamie slipped his free hand into Max’s. ‘Shall we take her around the lake?’

  ‘If you wish.’ After a heartbeat’s pause he held out his arm to Ellen. ‘Will you join us?’

  He knew the invitation sounded grudging, his voice coldly polite, but after regarding him for a moment she smiled and put her hand into the crook of his arm. He glanced down at her. The rim of her chip straw bonnet concealed her face, but she did not appear to be in any way discomposed and that pleased him. He wanted to be able to meet like this, as friends.

  His conscience kicked him: it was not what he wanted at all. He wanted to slide his arm about her waist and pull her close, to discard that ridiculous bonnet and cover her face with kisses and, when Jamie’s nursemaid came to fetch him away, he wanted to take Ellen to some secluded spot and make love to her, to caress her until she was crying out in ecstasy...

  ‘I beg your pardon, Your Grace. Did you speak?’

  Her soft voice interrupted his thoughts. She had turned to look up at him, a quizzical lift to her delicate brows. His heart was pumping so fast it threatened to choke him. He could never give in to that desire, not without risking the defences he had been at such pains to build. He needed to think of more mundane matters.

  ‘I wanted to ask you if you liked the view from your room.’

  ‘Very much, Your Grace. The grounds here are beautiful.’

  ‘I believe you have been busy in my absence. The changes to the staff, improvements in the stables. Flowers in the house.’

  ‘I hope you do not think I have been too forward. I consulted Mr Grisham on everything.’

  ‘But not the Dowager Duchess.’

  ‘Not on everything. She does not like change. It oversets her.’

  ‘But you are ready to restore her with the use of burnt feathers, I believe.’

  He observed the faint, mischievous twitch to her lips.

  ‘That was most unfortunate, but I could not allow such a fuss over how many horses we should keep. And once the situation was explained, Dorcas understood perfectly. Well, perhaps not quite that, but she is reconciled to the situation. And she will have four of the smartest horses to pull her barouche.’

  They had reached a section of the lake where the rushes grew thick and close to the bank, making it impossible to pull the little yacht further, and they stopped.

  ‘I think we have walked far enough today,’ said Ellen as Max untangled the string from the reeds and lifted the boat from the water. ‘It is time to go inside.’

  There was a mutinous look on Jamie’s face, but Max put a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Your mama is right, sir. A captain must always know when to rest his crew.’

  Harmony restored, they walked to the house, where they found Matlock on the terrace. She gave a slight bob to acknowledge the Duke and Duchess, but turned her attention to the little boy.

  ‘There you are, Master James. Eliza has prepared a bath for you; and by the looks of you it is very timely. Come along, young man.’

  Max crouched down and held out the yacht. ‘You may take it up to the nursery and keep it there, as long as you promise to take care of it.’

  Jamie nodded solemnly and went off with his nurse, the little boat clutched reverently in his arms.

  ‘That was very kind of you,’ Ellen told him.

  He shrugged. ‘When I saw you going to the lake I remembered the yacht. Luckily it had not been moved for years so it was easy to find.’ He escorted Ellen to the double doors leading from the terrace to the drawing room. He said lightly, ‘Is that my parental duty done for today?’

  ‘Why, no. Jamie will be brought down to join us for a little while before dinner. I want him to become better acquainted with his aunt. The Dowager is not used to children and finds half an hour of his company is quite sufficient.’ She hesitated. ‘Our arrival at Rossenhall has been quite an upheaval for Dorcas. It will take a little time for her to grow accustomed.’

  ‘She can be difficult. You do not allow her to bully you?’

  ‘I have never allowed anyone to bully me.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I pity anyone who might try.’

  * * *

  His sudden smile, the warmth in his voice, caught Ellen off guard. She felt breathless and unsure as they stood in the drawing room, the birds singing outside and the pretty little ormolu clock on the mantelpiece chiming the hour. She wanted him so badly it frightened her.

  Max looked around, waved one hand towards the sideboard.

  ‘Will you take a glass of wine with me?’

  ‘I, no, I thank you. It... I must change. For dinner.’

  She berated herself for a simpleton. He was offering her an olive branch and she should take it. But she felt too weak, too out of control. With a hasty gasp that he must excuse her, Ellen almost ran from the room.

  Chapter Ten

  No one could have been more serene and composed than the Duchess of Rossenhall when she entered the drawing room that evening. She greeted her sister-in-law calmly, agreed that Alice, her new maid, was very good at dressing her hair and turned to acknowledge the Duke. He was standing on the far side of the room and looking immaculate in a dark coat that was sculpted to his athletic figure. His fair hair was brushed back from his strong, handsome face with its lean cheeks and those sensuous lips that only had to smile to set her pulse racing.

  She gave him a little nod, a slight smile, and took a seat beside Dorcas. She might be composed now, but her earlier agitation was not forgotten. One smile from the Duke and she had been ready to melt. He did not want that; he had told her as much. And neither did she. The love she had felt for him during those few weeks in the desert had been all-consuming. Too fierce, too hot. She had been exposed, vulnerable and to allow that to happen again could only lead to heartache, so she must hide behind cool smiles and not embarrass either of them with a show of affection that Max clearly did not want.

  She had barely made herself comfortable when Matlock came in with Jamie, who was washed and scrubbed and dressed in a woollen suit the colour of
cinnamon, which accentuated his fair hair and green eyes.

  Dorcas drew in a sharp breath and looked quickly from Jamie to Max.

  ‘Well,’ she muttered, ‘whatever gossip and scandal the news of your marriage might cause, Maximilian, that is clearly your son.’

  ‘Did you ever doubt it?’ said Ellen, with a flash of anger.

  With a little push from Matlock, Jamie stepped forward and made a creditable bow to the ladies.

  ‘Good evening, Aunt, Mama.’ He turned and made a similar obeisance to Max. ‘Good evening.’ He screwed up his face as if trying to remember a difficult lesson. ‘Papa.’

  Dorcas nodded her approval ‘I am glad to see the little Marquess is learning some manners at last. I was growing quite anxious about his wildness.’

  ‘He is not yet four years old,’ Max reminded her. ‘Personally I should be sorry if he lost all his natural liveliness.’

  That liveliness was evident now as the little boy hopped from one foot to the other, clearly bursting with news.

  ‘I wanted to play for you, but Matty says no,’ he told his mama.

  Ellen looked at Matlock for enlightenment.

  ‘Master Jamie has a drum, madam.’ The nursemaid cast a darkling look at Max. ‘It was a present from His Grace.’

  ‘I made a promise,’ said Max, when all eyes turned towards him.

  ‘Well, that is very thoughtless of you, Maximilian.’ Dorcas sniffed. ‘You have no consideration for my delicate nerves, or for your staff. It is bad enough that the boy is careering around the house all day on his hobby horse in your absence—’

  ‘That only happened once. A wet day when he could not go outside,’ Ellen put in. ‘And Eliza was with him to make sure he did no harm.’ She added gently, ‘You were in your room at the time, Dorcas, and knew nothing of it until Perkins mentioned at dinner how pleasant it was to have a child in the house again.’

  ‘The point is that although riding a hobby horse might be done quietly, a drum is a very different matter.’