On the Duke's Authority (Ducal Encounters series 4 Book 3) Read online

  He chuckled at her impatience and told her the basic details of his discussion with Leona. He also explained the contents of Clarence’s express and the agreement they had subsequently reached.

  ‘Poor Leona,’ Frankie said when Zach ran out of words. ‘Knowing her husband had a mistress is one thing, but having her marriage pulled apart by relative strangers must have been embarrassing. How did she react?’

  ‘Remarkably calmly, or so it appeared to me.’

  ‘I never met Marlowe, and I have no idea whether or not it was a love match.’ Frankie twitched her nose in that adoring manner of hers that made him want to carry her through to her bed and undo all Bess’s work with her hair. It mystified Zach that she still had the power to bewitch him quite so comprehensively after almost seven years of marriage and the birthing of four children. ‘But still, she must have been very embarrassed.’

  ‘Not all marriages are love matches—and I doubt that the majority of those that are could be even half as blissful as our own. It simply isn’t possible.’

  She smiled up at him from her place on her dressing stool, reached up her arms and when he lowered his head, she placed a gentle kiss on his lips. ‘You always know exactly the right thing to say.’

  ‘Much as I would like to bask in your approval, it requires little effort on my part to be truthful.’

  Pagan put his head round the open door and meowed. ‘Hello, you,’ Frankie said, leaning a hand down to rub his ears. ‘I assume you found a warm fire somewhere and haven’t put a paw outside in these conditions. I have always said that cats are far more sensible than dogs. I saw your two romping in the grounds earlier with Mr Conroy, Zach. They must have been soaked to the skin and perishing cold.’

  ‘They had a fine old time of it. They are young, and they have energy to burn. A little inclement weather won’t deter them. Phantom and Phineas, on the other hand, would have followed Pagan’s example,’ he said, feeling a stab of pain at the mention of his old wolfhounds, now buried in the pet cemetery in the Park’s grounds.

  ‘You still miss them, don’t you?’ Frankie said, reaching out to squeeze Zach’s hand.

  ‘I do, and I’m ashamed to admit it. Given the gravity of Amos’s loss, it seems a little indulgent to mourn the passing of a couple of dogs.’

  ‘They were your closest companions when you were getting to grips with being a duke. They went everywhere with you. Of course you are going to miss them, and I would think less of you if you didn’t admit it.’

  ‘Well then.’ He took her hand and pulled her gently to her feet. ‘I suppose we had best go down and make sure that Mrs Brooke doesn’t trample all over Amos’s feelings. You know that Max and Sara have gone home?’

  ‘Yes. Max needed to get to his office now that the roads are passable. Vince and Nia could leave as well but I think Vince wanted to stay on as a show of support for Amos—at least until we see the back of our unwanted guests.’

  ‘Most likely.’

  They descended the stairs arm in arm and found everyone with the exception of Ariana already in the drawing room. Mrs Brooke had a glass in her hand and was attempting to engage an indifferent Amos in conversation. Devonshire had a bandage around his hand.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Frankie said, glancing at it. ‘Have you hurt yourself?’

  ‘A scratch.’

  ‘From a cat,’ Amelia added. ‘It’s quite bad.’

  ‘My cat probably,’ Frankie said, feeling no need to apologise. ‘He’s a bit of a law unto himself.’

  ‘It’s nothing serious,’ Devonshire replied, contradicting his wife. ‘Oh…’

  His eyes lit up and Zach could see that Frankie had lost his attention. He turned to see what had inspired the alteration in his dour demeanour and his gaze fell upon Ariana, standing in the open doorway and looking very fetching in a pale green gown. Zach hadn’t seen her wear it before. Devonshire was not the only gentleman in the room who approved of the local modiste’s skill, enhanced by Ariana’s figure, which enabled her to carry it off with élan. Mrs Brooke and her daughter, on the other hand, looked scandalised.

  ‘Your children’s governess dines with you?’ Mrs Brooke asked, unable to keep the disapproval out of her voice.

  ‘Certainly she does,’ Frankie replied airily. ‘Good evening, Ariana.’

  ‘I apologise for being late, ma’am,’ Ariana replied. ‘The boys were overexcited after their exertions in the snow, so I helped nanny to settle them.’

  ‘You didn’t need to do that.’ It was Amos who answered her. ‘There are plenty of people in the nursery more than capable—’

  ‘Perhaps. But they were asking for me and begging for just one more story.’

  ‘And you are too soft-hearted to deny them,’ Zach said, smiling at her. ‘How ever did we manage without you?’

  ‘That is something I constantly wonder,’ Frankie added.

  ‘I am happy to make myself useful,’ Ariana replied, seemingly oblivious to Mrs Brooke’s very obvious disapproval.

  It was those with the least to be superior about, Zach often thought, who were most insistent upon maintaining standards. If Mrs Brooke supposed that Ariana brought anything other than style and impeccable manners to Frankie’s drawing room, she was deluded.

  Dinner was announced sooner than usual; Frankie’s doing, Zach assumed. It gave none of them any pleasure to linger in the drawing room, making polite conversation with people who did not belong there and with whom they had little in common.

  The meal passed quickly, and Zach was relieved when the ladies withdrew and he was no longer subjected to Mrs Brooke’s increasingly ingratiating conversation. He felt a moment’s concern for Frankie, who would now be stuck with the wretched woman, but at least she had Nia, Ariana and Lady Marlowe to support her. Zach vowed not to linger long over the port. It seemed to lose its potency with Devonshire at the table, so he suggested rejoining the ladies after just half an hour.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mrs Brooke would be leaving in the morning, having failed to ingratiate herself with her grandchildren or mend bridges with Amos. Her carriage conveniently breaking down in this particular location hadn’t fooled anyone. Amos imagined that she wanted something from him, something specific, and was running out of time to plead her case.

  As the gentlemen left the dining room, he found Mrs Brooke lingering in the corridor, waiting to pounce. Part of Amos wanted to ignore her, worried that he might finally lose his fragile hold on his temper and tell her a few home truths. For the sake of Crista’s memory, he would not go that far if it could possibly be helped.

  ‘Lord Amos, a moment of your time,’ she said tentatively.

  Zach glanced over his shoulder, as did Vince, both brothers ready to intercede. Amos shook his head and they continued on their way. Without saying a word, Amos led the way into the morning room.

  ‘How can I be of assistance?’ he asked crisply. He motioned her to a chair but remained standing himself, one elbow leaning on the mantlepiece.

  ‘Do you ever wish that you could alter the past?’ She must have noticed the pain that flashed through his expression because she was quick to apologise. ‘Of course you do. I am so sorry. That was crass of me. I know how much you adored my daughter and how much you miss her still.’

  ‘Excuse me, but you didn’t ask to see me in order to rake over the past, or indeed to point out the obvious.’

  ‘No, that was not my purpose, it’s true.’ She studied her hands, looking uncharacteristically subdued. ‘This is not easy for me. What I’m attempting to say is that with the benefit of hindsight I can see why you dislike me so much. I did not treat Crista well. I showed clear favouritism for Amelia because she was more biddable.’

  Amos raised a brow but said nothing. What was there to say? She wasn’t admitting to anything he didn’t already know, but he was surprised that her level of desperation had made her voluntarily face up to the fact. It was obvious that she wanted something from him and was desperate enough to gro
vel.

  ‘I know as well that I was partly responsible for driving my husband into the hands of those who exploited his skill, and that knowledge has caused me more sleepless nights than I can expect you to believe. Despite what you think of my behaviour, I loved my husband.’

  She glanced up at Amos, her expression stripped of all artifice. He wondered if he was seeing, for the first time ever, the real person beneath the layers of ambition and self-aggrandisement that had always set his teeth on edge.

  ‘My demands and my determination to rise up and be accepted in the best salons blinded me to all reason. Nothing he ever did was enough to satisfy my expectations, and I must live with the knowledge that I drove him to his death. My only saving grace is that I did it partly for my daughters’ sakes. I wanted them to have the best of everything and the opportunity to make good marriages. Crista wasn’t interested in any of that, and I didn’t know how to react to her disregard for all the things that I thought were important, so I’m afraid I largely ignored her.’ She sighed. ‘I regret that now, of course.’

  ‘In some respects you are not entirely to blame. Your husband loved you and would have done anything in his power to make you happy. Crista told me as much. But I cannot respect a man who allows the woman he admires to dictate his behaviour.’

  ‘For a strong man such as you, I can readily believe it.’ She allowed a moment’s pause and a wistful sigh. ‘I made matters worse by barely recognising my grandchildren when they were born. Crista wrote to me each time, but I didn’t want to accept that I was old enough to be a grandmother. Vanity again, you see.’

  Amos did see, all too clearly. ‘What is the purpose of this conversation, other than to drag up memories painful to us both?’

  ‘I want you to know that I truly regret my behaviour.’

  Amos could see that she was attempting to transfer the burden of guilt from her shoulders to his. ‘You invested all your interests in Amelia, and her marriage is proving to be a disappointment,’ he said. ‘It’s clear to me that Devonshire has pockets to let but Crista told me that he was a man of property, due to inherit a thriving estate which of course was one of the reasons why you went to so much trouble to ensure that Amelia caught his eye and won his affections.’

  ‘He was all of those things, but it was his father who worked hard to keep the family estate profitable.’

  ‘Ah, I see.’ It wasn’t an uncommon story. Young men born into wealth and privilege didn’t understand the value of hard work because they had never been required to get their hands dirty or exercise their brains in order to keep the coffers full. Either that or they frittered their inheritances away at the gaming tables. ‘Gambling?’ he asked, thinking Devonshire’s father partly to blame for not preparing his son to assume his responsibilities.

  Mrs Brooke nodded. ‘Gambling and womanising, Lord Amos. He is a grave disappointment, but Amelia still adores him. She makes excuses and refuses to see him for what he really is. Perhaps you imagine we have both got our just desserts.’

  ‘Don’t presume to understand the nature of my thoughts.’ Amos fixed her with a speculative look. ‘You live with your daughter and son-in-law?’

  ‘Yes, but I’m not sure for how much longer. Devonshire cannot keep his creditors at bay indefinitely and I fear that the estate will be forfeit.’

  ‘You still have your house in town?’

  ‘Yes. It’s let but the lease expires soon and I want to move back there.’ She paused. ‘And take Amelia with me.’

  ‘She wants to leave her husband?’ Amos raised a brow. ‘You just told me that she is loyal to Devonshire.’

  ‘She is, but she might change her mind once she experiences the realities of poverty. Besides, I have a feeling that Devonshire has other plans for his future.’

  ‘What plans?’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea. I would tell you if I knew. It’s just that his behaviour has changed. He has become even less attentive to Amelia, if that’s possible, and…well, the signs are all there but Amelia won’t see them. Personally, I hope he really does plan to leave the country or something, then she will be free of a man who is a grave disappointment to everyone except himself and his besotted wife.’

  If she expected Amos to be shocked by her assertions, his reaction would disappoint her. ‘If Devonshire cannot support her, or wants rid of her, then I agree that she should return to live with you.’ He sighed. ‘But I assume you cannot afford to run the place.’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I cannot, but I have learned my lesson and now understand the meaning of economy. I cannot take Amelia out in company anyway—not as a married woman who has left her husband. She will be looked upon as the one at fault, and in some respects she will be. For better or worse, and all that.’

  ‘You want me to pay your bills?’

  She spread her hands. ‘I know it’s a lot to ask, but I don’t see how else we will manage.’ A tear trickled from the corner of her eye and Amos realised with a jolt that she really was at her wits’ end. ‘Devonshire is violent. Amelia won’t admit it. She passes off her bruises as clumsiness. When she can’t deny her husband’s hand behind her injuries she claims it is her own fault for annoying him. Anyway, she is blinded by love and loyalty and cannot see the reality of her situation. I am deeply concerned for her wellbeing. I have to get her away from him. I have lost one daughter…’

  ‘You used this unexpected opportunity to appeal to my better nature, yet you have criticised the manner in which your grandchildren are cared for ever since you crossed the threshold.’ Amos frowned at her. ‘Why did you imagine that such an attitude would incline me towards generosity?’

  ‘It was the shock of seeing Ariana, I suppose, and the way that the children adore her. I was surprised and resentful. They are Crista’s children, and yet…’

  ‘You forfeited the right to feel resentful on Crista’s behalf when you treated her so badly.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘I know.’

  ‘And I take exception to the fact that you seem to think I have forgotten about my wife. Would you prefer for my children to spend their days feeling miserable and being constantly reminded of their dead mother? Let me assure you that Charlotte has not recovered from the loss, and nor have I.’

  ‘I know I behaved badly. It was seeing you and Ariana on such friendly terms, and watching her dine with the family. I didn’t know what to think.’

  Amos didn’t want to continue the conversation and risk being interrogated about his intentions. It was none of Mrs Brooke’s damned business.

  ‘Very well,’ Amos closed his eyes. He thought of Crista and knew he couldn’t leave her mother and sister in the hands of a man like Devonshire. ‘I will make you a quarterly allowance, sufficient for you to live comfortably and quietly.’

  ‘You will?’ She blinked up at him through tear-filled eyes, clearly not having expected him to acquiesce so readily. ‘Thank you so very much. That is remarkably generous, given our history. I cannot tell you what a relief it is to know that we will survive, no matter what Devonshire does.’

  ‘You are entirely welcome. The allowance is for you and Amelia, and will cease immediately if Devonshire comes to live with you. Now, if there is nothing else…’

  ‘One thing. I didn’t want to leave Devonshire’s estate in these conditions. Everyone knew there was a storm coming, but he insisted on travelling because he has important business in town.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘More likely a case of evading his creditors. Anyway, he also insisted upon coming through Winchester, which took us out of our way, and I am absolutely convinced that the wheel of our carriage didn’t come loose by accident.’

  She was now assured of Amos’s complete attention. ‘You think he wanted to find an excuse to come here to the Park?’ He scowled. ‘Why?’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea, but from snippets of conversation I have overheard these past weeks and months, I am absolutely sure that he is in league with someone disreputable, and that betwee
n them they intend to recover their respective financial positions, possibly at your family’s expense.’

  ‘Do you have any idea whom he may be connected to? Think carefully. It could be important.’

  ‘No, I’m sorry. He leaves us in the country a lot and goes up to London alone. But I am fairly sure that the person is somehow connected to the legal profession. He boasted once when he was in his cups—a fairly regular occurrence, I might add—that he would never have to pay for legal advice ever again.’

  *

  Made late by her dalliance with Doran, Leona had barely enough time to change for dinner. She still managed to tell an inquisitive Ethel about the contents of Lord Romsey’s express, but was not at leisure to dwell upon her conversation with the duke’s alluring Irish guest or consider its implications. She was disgruntled by the easy manner in which he compelled her so comprehensively, distracting her with his disarming concern for her wellbeing when she ought to suspect his motives. It was a long time since anyone had shown genuine interest in her affairs without expecting something by way of reward.

  What did Doran hope to achieve from his charm campaign? He was blessed with rugged good looks and a captivating manner but was far from being superficial. Behind all the Irish bonhomie lurked sadness and determination. Past disappointments, the nature of which Leona wondered about, added to his mystique. He fascinated her and she liked him very much.

  Too much.

  It simply wouldn’t do, and she would be glad when they had settled their respective affairs and he returned to Ireland, beyond the reach of temptation. Although if she went through with her intention of spending the majority of her time in that country, she wouldn’t be able to avoid his society. It would be sensible to change her plans, but she didn’t see why she should have to inconvenience herself when the likelihood of her fledgling feelings being reciprocated were so slight. Not that she wanted them to be reciprocated, of course. A second marriage didn’t form part of her plans.