Beyond the Duke's Domain: Ducal Encounters Series 4 Book 4 Page 2

  ‘Are you looking forward to your birthday, Lucy?’ the duke asked, smiling at her.

  ‘It is kind of you to remember it, your grace.’

  ‘As if I could forget.’ He arranged his tall, muscular frame into a relaxed position and leaned back in his chair with one foot crossed over his opposite knee. ‘Frankie has been planning your birthday dinner for weeks.’

  ‘Hardly weeks, but I have certainly made an effort,’ the duchess replied, sending her husband an intimately playful smile that reinforced Lucy’s opinion about their abiding love for one another. ‘Nineteen is a vital age in a girl’s development, and ought to be appropriately celebrated.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dare to argue the point,’ the duke said, grinning at his duchess as she handed him a cup of tea with a slice of lemon resting in its saucer.

  Muddle, Cal’s mongrel dog, came loping up to the terrace, his tongue lolling. Cal followed at a moderate pace, using his cane to negate his limp. The duke’s dogs, Marley and Mungo, roused themselves, their tails wagging, and the three canines chased one another across the lawns, aided and abetted by Lord Vincent’s three romping children.

  ‘What do you most wish to receive for your birthday?’ the duchess asked Lucy whilst simultaneously smiling at Cal and handing him his tea. ‘As if I couldn’t guess.’

  ‘There is absolutely nothing I desire,’ Lucy replied. ‘I am well aware how fortunate I am to be included in this family.’ She paused and flashed an impish smile. ‘Even so, perhaps the Arabian mare that Cal has promised me wouldn’t be unwelcome.’

  Petra had been the keener equestrian before the girls had moved to Winchester. Lucy had preferred painting, drawing and music, but she couldn’t ignore the constant talk of horses, or avoid seeing the elegant creatures on this estate. Gradually her interest had been piqued and her priorities had changed. Now she was a keen horsewoman and a proficient rider, while Petra’s time was devoted to her children. Cal had declared it beyond time that Lucy had a horse of her own and had taken it upon himself to find her an appropriate steed. It had all been done in great secrecy and Lucy had yet to make the mare’s acquaintance.

  ‘I have not forgotten, minx,’ Cal replied, winking at her. ‘But you will have to contain your curiosity for two more days.’

  ‘Ah, we have company,’ the duke said, rolling his eyes at the sound of tiny feet thundering down the stairs.

  ‘Ariana, where are you?’

  The voice of Lord Amos’s eldest child Charlotte, high and indignant, rang through the air, curtailing the conversation between the adults.

  ‘Ariana is here,’ Lord Amos told her on a note of mild censure, ‘but you know very well that she is enjoying her day off.’

  ‘It’s all right.’ Lucy watched as Ariana gathered Charlotte onto her lap and gave her a reassuring hug. ‘There’s nothing to fear,’ she assured the child, so softly that Lucy barely caught the words.

  Charlotte, Lucy knew from personal observation, had been the most affected by the death of her mother, but had grown accustomed to Ariana and fretted if she didn’t see her regularly. For such a well-protected child she was still insecure and probably worried that Ariana would leave her too, since she was too young to fully understand the finality of death.

  Lucy was aware that Ariana truly adored all of Lord Amos’s children but that Charlotte held a special place in her heart, perhaps because of vulnerabilities that reminded Ariana of her own situation. She hoped that Charlotte wouldn’t be the reason why Ariana remained at the Park, if she chose to do so. She glanced at the dark, brooding expression on Lord Amos’s face that softened as he watched Ariana comfort his daughter. She wondered if he was suppressing the need to bestow similar attention upon the child’s… What was Ariana’s role in the nursery? She was neither nursemaid nor governess but something in between, and had made herself indispensable, fulfilling a need and repaying Lord Amos in some small way for rescuing her and Martina from a terrible fate.

  Reassured, Charlotte slipped from Ariana’s lap and joined the confusion of children and dogs rolling about on the lawns.

  ‘No sign of your…’

  The duke’s words were cut short as the sound of a horse being ridden at speed down the long driveway reached the ears of those on the terrace. It was a beautiful spotted horse, lively and spirited, and Lucy hadn’t seen it anywhere on the estate before.

  Lord Amos stood and shaded his eyes with his hand, watching the rider’s approach. ‘That, unless I miss my guess,’ he said slowly, ‘is the Appaloosa stallion that created such a stir at Tattersall’s last week.’

  Cal looked and nodded. ‘A fiery beast. Went for a high sum, I hear.’

  ‘What’s it doing here?’

  Ariana and Martina shared a questioning glance, probably reluctant to get their hopes up because they had been disappointed before. But as the magnificent horse drew closer a small cry of delight escaped Ariana’s lips. She was on her feet in seconds, lifted her skirts and ran in the direction of the rider, with Martina close on her heels.

  Chapter Two

  After interminable delays that had gone on for months and then years, Raphael Sanchez-Gomez had finally extracted himself from the long reach of the Spanish secret service. Infiltrating areas of insurgency and unrest that few dared to venture into and even fewer emerged from unscathed had taken its toll.

  But now, at last, he was in England.

  Spying had given him a purpose that endured for years after the conflict with Napoleon had been resolved. The Spanish as a race had long memories and knew how to bear a grudge. Many of those whom Raph had been commissioned to seek out had supported the French cause, making them traitors in the eyes of the state.

  Especially in Raph’s eyes.

  He had thrived in the shadowy world of espionage, living on his wits and making a real difference—or so he chose to believe. His family should have been safe, well away from the predicted path of the fighting, or he never would have left them. Except, he reasoned, he would have had to join the army if he hadn’t been approached with an offer to serve his country in a different and more rewarding capacity.

  His misery had been profound when he returned to their estate shortly after Napoleon’s defeat and saw the ruins of his family’s palatial home, little of which remained following the looting and mindless destruction. It was the absence of the family itself that reduced him, first to despair and then to a state of blind fury that had remained with him through the ensuing years.

  Revenge had driven him to take greater and greater risks, not caring if he himself lived or died. Only when it was too late did it occur to him that he ought to have given up doing the government’s bidding and taken proper care of his sisters after their parents had been so savagely slaughtered. It was only thanks to thirteen-year-old Ariana’s quick thinking that the girls had managed to evade the marauding French army. Raph still shuddered every time he considered the fate that had been lying in wait for the two innocents.

  The girls had been taken in by relatives and Ariana had persuaded Raph to return to his work for the government. She too was thirsty for revenge, following their mother’s brutal rape and murder and their father’s ineffectual efforts to rescue her before he too was bludgeoned to death.

  Ariana had seen it all.

  Raph had promised to return for the girls, but one year turned into another and there never seemed to be a good time to resign. There was always just one more pocket of resistance that needed to be wiped out. He worked deep undercover and couldn’t get away to reassure Ariana. He told himself that she would understand and would be safe.

  He still wasn’t sure what had happened to his sisters. When he did finally return, the relatives who had taken them in were long gone, and so were the girls. Thinking the worst, Raph threw himself back into his work with a fresh ruthlessness that sometimes even surprised his paymasters, who were merciless enough in their own right.

  And then, almost a year previously, a communication from an English arist
ocrat had caught up with him, assuring him that the girls were alive and safe in his care. Raph hadn’t wanted to believe it. His heart and conscience couldn’t take any more disappointment, and only now, having spoken at length with Lord Romsey in Whitehall, who was able to answer his specific questions, did he allow himself to hope.

  Raph reined in his new stallion, the aptly named Hurricane, as he neared Winchester Park and thought back over the past few hectic weeks. He had been met from the ship that took him to England by an official who accompanied him to Whitehall. Frustrated, Raph had nevertheless known that a debrief would be required since England and Spain were allies and he had worked for the interests of both nations. Besides, he had to know if the girls really had survived.

  He had spent a full week in London, learning the horrific details of his sisters’ lucky escape from an unspeakable fate, related to him in a dispassionate voice by Lord Romsey, a relative of the Duke of Winchester.

  Raph had learned to be cautious during the course of his career and would not accept that his sisters were alive until he saw them with his own eyes. He reined Hurricane in as he crested a small rise that overlooked the duke’s estate and allowed a little optimism to filter past his guard. He couldn’t think of any reason why Lord Romsey would have encouraged him to come to this grand estate unless the girls really were here, and as far as he was aware no one in this country had any reason to bear him a grudge. Even so, he wouldn’t have survived in the murky world of espionage for long if he didn’t question everything he was asked to take on faith.

  ‘Time to find out, Hurricane,’ he said, spurring the stallion into a canter before he could change his mind. Disappointment would, he knew, be the end of him.

  He slowed to walking pace when he reached a prosperous-seeming village and noticed admiring glances being sent Hurricane’s way.

  ‘Don’t let it go to your head,’ he told the horse, patting his neck beneath the long mane that reached below his shoulder.

  He had paused at a tavern to ask directions and was pointed towards an area of common land that would lead him, he was assured, to the back entrance. He chuckled as the gatehouse came into view. It was the size of a cottage that could accommodate a family of six. If this was the tradesman’s entrance, he wondered what the rest of the place would look like. A uniformed porter asked him his name, and upon supplying it Raph learned that he was expected and was waved through.

  Giving way to a combination of fear and impatience, he spurred Hurricane on again and cantered along a driveway that was edged by neat fencing behind which elegant horses grazed in several paddocks. Everything was intimidatingly pristine—or would be if Raph’s perceptions had not been hardened by his profession. If his sisters were living here, something had finally gone right for them, he conceded, giving his guilty conscience a much needed respite.

  He felt a fluttering of nerves as he wondered if he would recognise the girls. Lord Romsey had mentioned that Martina was engaged to be married, which hardly seemed credible. She was a child, for goodness sake, whose pigtails he used to playfully tug not so very long ago!

  Such mental perambulations were cut short when the mansion came into view. Raph let out a low whistle of appreciation as he fought Hurricane for control. He had ridden all the way from London in two days and the horse was still as fresh as the day they had left the capital. He drew rein as he caught sight of a wide terrace to one side of the house, with sloping lawns occupied by a dozen small children and several dogs. He smiled—a rarity nowadays since he seldom found much to smile about—at the chaotic scene. He had been told that his sisters were partly responsible for the care of the children of this house and wondered if their charges were amongst those wreaking havoc on the lawns.

  Before he could decide, two females came running towards him, calling his name. He glanced at them, wondering how they could possibly know who he was. He was expected. His valise had been sent ahead, but even so…

  And then he knew.

  His doubts fell away and he felt a lightness of heart he had forgotten was possible when he recognised the melodic timbre of Ariana’s voice calling to him in Spanish. He leapt from Hurricane’s saddle and threw his arms wide as his sisters hurled themselves into them. His gaze clashed with Ariana’s as he closed one arm around her waist and swung Martina from her feet with the other.

  ‘Raphael!’ they cried in unison, tears streaming down their faces.

  ‘We thought you were dead,’ Martina snuffled. ‘Is it really you?’

  ‘Have I changed so very much?’

  Even as he posed the question, he knew that he had. They would none of them ever be the same again. War had that effect on people.

  ‘Only by becoming more handsome than I recall my hero of a big brother ever being,’ Martina told him, smothering his jaw with kisses when he placed her back on her feet.

  Raph laughed as he linked an arm around each of their waists, belatedly recalling that he had left a valuable stallion to its own devices. Before the horse could ruin the manicured lawns, a groom came running to take him off to the stables, and Raph waved his thanks.

  ‘I hardly know where to begin, I have so many questions,’ Raph said. ‘But first, what is all this I have been told about a potential wedding?’

  ‘There is nothing potential about it,’ Ariana replied before Martina, who was busy blushing, could open her mouth. ‘All the preparations are in hand, and we were waiting only for your arrival so that you can walk our sister down the aisle.’

  ‘I hope the man is worthy of you.’ Ariana’s expression implied that Raphael had forfeited the right to be authoritarian. ‘I am glad he makes you happy, little one.’

  ‘Oh, he does,’ Martina assured him, smiling radiantly.

  Raph’s heart lightened at the sight, knowing that she deserved to be happy after all the angst they had endured as a family. He glanced briefly at Ariana, so similar facially to their beautiful mother that he felt a moment’s renewed grief for the futility of their loss. Would Ariana be able to put the past behind her and find happiness too? If anyone deserved to find her heart’s desire, it was his courageous sister.

  Raph became conscious of several children approaching them, the procession led by a little girl with red hair and a determined scowl. ‘Ariana, come and play with us,’ she said imperiously.

  Ariana crouched down and ruffled the girl’s hair. ‘Charlotte, this is my brother, Raphael,’ she said. ‘I told you he would be arriving soon, but I expect you forgot. He has come a long way so you must make your curtsey and bid him welcome.’

  Charlotte stuck out her lower lip and looked to be on the verge of either tears or a show of defiance. Clearly, she didn’t look kindly upon Raph’s sudden appearance, and he hoped her attitude was not an imitation of the adults’ behaviour in this grand mansion. He glanced at the gathering on the terrace, thinking they couldn’t look upon his neglect of his sisters with more disapproval than he himself did. Sighing, Raph decided to tackle one obstacle at a time. Sensing that it would be important to win this child’s trust, he crouched down as well.

  ‘Hello, Charlotte,’ he said, smiling.

  Raph was an expert on the subject of insecurity, and recognised it when he saw it, but his smile appeared to pacify the child, who executed a very elegant curtsey. ‘Will you play with us?’ she asked.

  ‘Momentarily,’ Ariana replied. ‘My brother has come all the way from Spain and needs a cup of tea first.’

  ‘I’m Leo,’ said one of the boys, stepping forward and holding out a hand in a very adult manner. ‘Ariana said you would never get here but I told her that you would.’

  ‘And you were right, Master Leo.’ Raphael shook his proffered hand and assured the boy that he was pleased to make his acquaintance. A crisis was averted when one of the dogs ran off with the children’s ball and Leo led the charge to retrieve it.

  ‘You got away lightly there,’ Martina assured him. ‘Leo is the duke’s heir, and he ordinarily tells everyone he meets for
the first time that he will be a duke one day.’

  ‘It’s his way of getting the better of Josh, Charlotte’s brother, who is a few months older than Leo,’ Ariana explained. ‘It infuriates Leo not to be the oldest boy. Anyway, now that you have met the children, come and meet the duke himself.’

  ‘You are treated well here?’ Raph asked, even though he could see that his sisters were happy, well dressed and comfortable in their surroundings. He thanked every deity he could put a name to for their safe delivery, hoping that his nightmares and recurring guilt would finally recede and allow him a modicum of inner peace.

  Not that he deserved any.

  ‘Far better than we have any right to expect,’ Ariana replied, linking arms with Raph as they walked towards the terrace.

  ‘I am dusty from the road and in no fit state to meet a duke.’

  ‘He will not mind,’ Martina assured him. ‘He doesn’t stand on ceremony.’

  There was a large number of adults seated on the terrace, all of whom were watching their approach. Raph felt momentarily intimidated by the grandeur, but had no time to dwell upon his surroundings as a tall gentleman who wore an air of authority like a second skin stood to greet him. Raphael’s supposition that he must be the duke proved accurate when Ariana made the introduction.

  ‘Welcome to Winchester Park,’ the duke said, taking Raphael’s hand in a firm grasp as he summed him up with the practiced glance of a man accustomed to making quick judgements. ‘Your sisters have been anxious.’

  ‘Not as anxious as I, your grace. Thanking you for taking care of them seems inadequate.’