Ducal Encounters 01 - At the Duke's Discretion Page 5

  Perhaps it was her disinterest in him that had made Reece want her the moment he set eyes on her. Unfortunately, Reece was under strict instructions to let her be, at least until she had outlived her usefulness. Only the thought of doing precisely as he pleased with her when their business was complete kept Reece’s lust in check, though his imagination still sometimes spiralled out of control. He could, and did, purchase as many women as he felt the need for, but they were willing. There was something about a reluctant one, about the way Miss Cristobel Brooke looked down her pert little nose at him as though he was beneath her notice that heated his blood. It didn’t help matters that she dressed in men’s attire. Attire that graphically displayed every delectable curve on her body.

  Reece slowed his pace, hampered by his reaction to such thoughts. He had been within a hair’s breadth of pushing her across her work bench and having his way with her that evening in retaliation for her rebelliousness. She had no business talking back to him in such a fashion. Being entertained at Winchester Park had given her ideas above her station, and that attitude could not be permitted to go unpunished. The problem was, he was unsure how far to push her. She was not as biddable as her weak father had been, and threats against her uncle and sister would only get him so far. The wretchedly naive girl had standards. Reece blew air through his lips as he strode on towards his destination, frequently glancing over his shoulder to ensure he was not being followed. He could have told her having standards didn’t fill empty bellies and that God helped them as helped themselves in this world. Still, she would find out soon enough, if she continued to defy them.

  Much as he hated to admit to his inability to control her, Reece knew she was too important not to pass on intelligence of her rebellion, which was why he was making this unscheduled call. He made a habit of always covering his own back, thinking it better to share even the smallest concern with his employer, rather than seem inefficient if matters ran out of control. His loyalty and straightforwardness had seen him rise fast within the ranks of the organisation he worked for, and he had no desire to see that situation come to an end, thanks to a woman who was unaware quite what she had taken on.

  He reached the manor house on the edge of the village occupied by a respected resident whose reputation was beyond reproach. Miss Brooke knew nothing of his involvement in this business. She didn’t know of anyone except Reece. Even if she did harbour suspicions regarding this gentleman and voiced them, no one would believe her. Reece lifted the front door knocker. It was answered by a maid who dipped a curtsey and stood back to allow him in. He handed her his hat and gloves.

  “Is the master expecting you, sir? He didn’t say.”

  “Just tell him I’m, here, Mary. There’s a good girl.”

  “Wait here then.”

  Reece patted her rear, causing her to giggle. She was an obliging little chit, always willing to lift her skirts without a fuss if Reece had an itch that needed scratching. She was grateful for the attention and the monetary reward she received for her services. He had a feeling she provided the same service for her employer, although the matter had never been discussed between the two men.

  “He’s in the library, sir,” Mary said, returning quickly. “He said to go through.”

  Reece tapped on the library door and opened it when bid to enter by the room’s occupant. The gentleman seated behind an imposing desk put his quill aside and looked up at Reece.

  “I hope there is a good reason for this unexpected visit,” he said in a quiet, yet steely tone.

  “I thought it best to come in person to inform you Chesney has taken a commission to design a special suite of jewellery for the duchess’s birthday.”

  “Damn it, man, why did you permit that to happen?”

  “I could hardly stop him.” He shrugged. “Lord Amos came to the shop when I happened to be there, and Chesney took me by surprise by suggesting the idea. I am supposed to be his assistant so could not object.”

  “You think Chesney planned this as a means of disrupting our business?”

  “Very likely. He’s a wily old fox and actively hates being involved with us. The girl didn’t know. She seemed as surprised as I was to hear about it. Then both of them had to go up to the big house and show them designs.”

  The gentleman scowled. “They have seen the girl up at the big house?”

  “Well, I could hardly go. They would have caught me as a fraud in a heartbeat. No, she is supposed to have drawn up designs. Well, no supposed about it. She did.”

  “When did they go to the Park?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “And I am only just hearing about this?” The gentleman’s scowl became lethal. “I ought to have known at once.”

  “You were in London, sir. I did not think it wise to risk committing such information to a letter and could hardly leave the village and Miss Brooke unsupervised. I came tonight, having heard of your return.”

  “Hmm, this is deuced inconvenient. I wish I knew what they made of the girl drawing up the designs. Is there any possibility they might realise who she is?”

  “Unfortunately, I have no way of knowing. I cannot believe she would be foolish enough to drop any hints, given she is now involved with us. No one will ever believe she helps us against her will, especially since we can prove her father’s involvement.”

  “I had hoped the rumours circulating about Chesney’s eyesight would turn the Sheridans against him. Obviously, that didn’t work, and their continued patronage will slow our business down considerably.”

  “I realise that, but it will only take a week for the duchess’s work to be completed.”

  “We have other commissions due before then. We are already running behind.”

  Reece extracted the emerald bangle from his pocket and placed it on his employer’s desk. He picked it up and examined it closely. “Superb,” he said with evident satisfaction. “But what of the necklace we need to go with it?”

  “She says she won’t make it until she has done the duchess’s commission.”

  The gentleman thumped his clenched fist on his desk. “Perdition, since when did a slip of a girl start calling the shots in this organisation?”

  “We need her, sir,” Reece said mildly. “The old man can’t work nearly as fast as she does, and she knows it.”

  “For the love of God, we didn’t have this trouble when her father was alive. Perhaps you should remind her of the consequences if she continues to defy us.”

  “She knows well enough, which is the only reason why she helps us. But she is temperamental, and I get the feeling that if we push too hard she will push back.”

  “Which will implicate her and her precious family.”

  “And put us in gaol.”

  “Hmm, there is that. God preserve me from headstrong women!” The gentleman fell into momentary contemplation. “I suppose a week’s delay can be explained away, but I don’t want her to think she has won this particular skirmish or there’s no telling what she might try next.” He leaned back in his chair, pausing to think. “There must be some way to bring her to heel. What does she fear the most, apart from her uncle’s health and her sister’s reputation, neither of which seem sufficient to make her completely obedient?”

  “Well…” A slow smile spread across Reece’s face. “She hates to be touched.”

  “I won’t have you despoil her. At least not yet. If you strip her of her dignity then she will definitely defy us. Woman are odd that way.”

  “It doesn’t need to come to that.” And you don’t need to know if things get out of hand. “But if I can get to her when she’s away from that shop, I can put the fear of God into her.”

  Reece’s employer rubbed his chin in his cupped hand. “Do what is necessary to secure her continued obedience.”

  “She sometimes walks on the common when she finishes work for the day.”

  “Well, that sounds ideal. No one walks there much.” The rigidness left the gentleman’s shoulders.
“I will leave the particulars to you to decide. I don’t need to hear them. I also do not relish having to tell our London masters we cannot control the girl. I placed my faith in you, Reece, because you assured me you could manage matters. Do not make me regret that decision.”

  “You will have no cause to do so.”

  “Good.” He stood up. “You did right to tell me about this, but do not come back again unless it is absolutely necessary. We cannot be seen together.”

  Reece nodded, relieved to have escaped further chastisement. His employer was not a pleasant person to be around when he was displeased. “You can depend upon me, sir.”

  Chapter Five

  Amos filled the following day by involving himself in the business of the stud. He had been able to ride almost before he could walk and horses were in his blood. He had never seriously considered doing anything with his life that did not directly involve them. When he finished his tenure at university and was in need of an occupation, he had sold the idea of an innovative new stud to Zach and persuaded him to let him to run it. Six years later, it was an established and respected enterprise, having earned a reputation for producing decent Nonius foals, extensively used by cavalry regiments in Europe.

  “I am glad you stopped by,” Amos said to Zach as they stood together at the paddock railings, watching the two mares who had arrived the previous week and were ready to be covered that day. Zach’s two Irish wolfhounds Phineas and Phantom had their noses to the ground, following the trail of rabbits until they became bored and slumped down at Zach’s feet. “I discovered something rather strange last night that I wanted to discuss with you.”

  “In the Crown and Anchor?” Zach flexed a brow. “There are always strange activities in that establishment. That is part of its appeal. One never quite knows what one is likely to see or hear.”

  The stud workers gently led the mares inside to prepare them. Both went willingly enough, which was a good sign.

  “I left Nate to enjoy Martha and have absolutely no wish to learn the particulars of their strange activities.”

  Zach laughed. “Very wise. But what did you do while our baby brother was earning his spurs?”

  “I took a turn about the village.”

  “And, let me guess, your perambulation just happened to take you past a certain jeweller’s establishment?”

  Amos sent his brother a speaking look. “Am I that transparent?”

  “I believe we were all taken with Miss Brooke’s passion for her designs, Amos, to say nothing of the lady herself. At first glance she didn’t seem especially pretty, but her eyes are remarkable, saving her from being plain.” Zach grinned. “As to her body−”

  “Leave her alone. I saw her first.”

  “Aha, I though as much.” Zach roared with laughter, startling the horses. “Sorry, Amos, but I’ve never seen you like this before. Please tell me you plan to sweep the beguiling Miss Brooke off her dainty feet and stand with her in front of a parson at the earliest opportunity. That way, you and she can beget a dozen children, saving me from the trouble of producing an heir, and also diverting our mother’s matrimonial ambitions away from me.”

  Amos rolled his eyes. “Now whose imagination is running away with him? Miss Brooke is charming, but she is not a lady in the true sense of the word.”

  “And yet, that is precisely what she appeared to be. She knows how to behave in society.”

  “Yes, that thought had occurred to me.” Amos rubbed his jaw. “I wonder why Chesney has kept her hidden away.”

  “Probably trying to keep her safe from people like you.” Zach was looking for a reaction, but Amos knew him too well to rise to the bait. “What did you wish to tell me?”

  “We could not quite understand why Chesney brought Miss Brooke with him rather than his damned assistant, nor why she drew up the designs for that matter.” Amos scratched the back of his neck. “I felt there was more to it than they let on.”

  “Very possibly, but provided they produce the jewellery for us, on time and as shown in the designs, why should it matter to us?”

  “I think Miss Brooke is being exploited in some fashion.”

  Amos could see from Zach’s expression, he had shocked his brother. “By Chesney? Surely not? They seemed quite close when they came up here yesterday.”

  “No, not by him, but by someone. Anyway, I walked past the shop last night and, of course, it was all closed up. So I slipped around the back and observed Miss Brooke in the workshop.” Amos paused and fixed his brother with a probing look. “Making the jewellery herself.”

  “Good God!”

  “My thoughts precisely.”

  “Do you imagine Chesney’s eyesight really has become so very bad that he cannot work himself?”

  “To be honest, I am unsure what to think, but my instincts tell me Miss Brooke is being coerced in some way.”

  “Because that’s what you want to think. You are attracted to her and want to think well of her. Not that there is any reason why you should not. I hope we are not so unenlightened we would disapprove of a woman taking up such an occupation. Since she is Chesney’s niece, it’s reasonable to suppose she grew up surrounded by jewellery and learned her skill from the cradle.”

  “Since she doesn’t share Chesney’s name, her mother must have been Chesney’s brother. I had not stopped to consider that possibility.”

  “If Chesney can no longer do close work, perhaps the girl persuaded him to let her try her hand herself. It would explain why she keeps to herself. If Compton village heard of a woman craftsman, or should I say a woman plying Chesney’s trade because he was incapable, they would take pleasure in shouting it from the rooftops, thus taking trade away from Shawford. You know how seriously the two villages take this silly feuding.”

  Zach rolled his eyes. “I am hardly in a position to forget it.”

  “Do you imagine her uncle trained her himself?” Amos asked. “The name Brooke and jewellery are mixed in my mind. I am sure there is a reason for that, but I can’t think what it might be.”

  “Her uncle, or perhaps there is someone else in her family who encouraged her talent.” Zach slapped Amos’s shoulders. “Anyway, I don’t think we should make her secret known. I have no objection to a woman making mother’s jewellery. If her work is even half as competent as her passion for it, then our mother will be delighted with her gift.”

  “I am glad you feel that way, but…oh, I don’t know, I am still uneasy in my mind. Something isn’t right, and I have a feeling Miss Brooke is urgently in need of our help.”

  “Ours, or yours?”

  “I have decided to make her my responsibility.”

  Zach flashed a raffish grin. “How very noble of you. But be careful, Amos. Chesney and his niece have a right to privacy, and they may not thank us for interfering. They can’t very well tell you to go to the devil, as they would if it was anyone of the same class as them who interfered.”

  It was time for the mares to be covered. The brothers watched as the stud-hands led them into the covering shed. The stallions were eager to perform their duties, and the matter was soon dealt with. Zach wandered back to the house, his dogs loping along ahead of him, but Amos remained behind, unable to dislodge thoughts of Miss Brooke from his head. Still just in shirtsleeves, he came to a decision. And there was no time like the present to carry it through. He saddled his black stallion himself, mounted up, and left the yard at a canter.

  “Come along, Warrior,” he said to the horse. “Let us see if we can be of service to a lady in distress.”

  He turned Warrior in the direction of the common, hoping to see Miss Brooke walking there. Unless she worked late into the evening again, this was the time when he was the most likely to encounter her.

  To his intense disappointment, she was nowhere to be seen.

  He rode on to Shawford, and walked Warrior down the main road. All of the businesses had closed for the day, with the exception of the Crown and Anchor which, as always, was
enjoying a brisk trade. He was about to head on past Chesney’s establishment when he saw a familiar figure leave the tavern on foot, heading for the common with a purposeful stride. It was the man, Reece, whom he had seen at Chesney’s.

  On an impulse, he turned Warrior and followed at a discrete distance behind, curious to know what business such a man could possibly have on empty land.

  ***

  Crista had worked solidly the entire day on the duchess’s suite of jewellery while her uncle concentrated on the silver chalice agreed upon for her collection. Crista would finish the filigree on it just as soon as she could make the time. Thankfully, she had seen nothing of Reece that day, which was an agreeable surprise. Having received no interruptions, she had made good progress forming the gold settings for the stones. Next, she must start the delicate filigree that would decorate the pieces.

  “My dear, you have been here all day.” Uncle Charles came into the workroom, his brow creased by a frown. “You will make yourself ill if you continue to work so hard. Allow me to take over for a while. I am not completely past it, you know.”

  “I know that, Uncle,” Crista replied, leaning up from her seat to place an affectionate kiss on his wrinkled cheek. “But I am enjoying doing honest work for a change. I can take pride in it and not feel the need to apologise every five minutes.”

  “You have absolutely nothing to feel guilty about.” Uncle Charles scowled, but she knew his displeasure was not directed at her. “Your father got you into this situation. You and I must now find a way out of it.”

  “How extraordinary.” Crista smiled. “I had reached the same conclusion. The more we do for them, the deeper we become involved, and the harder it will be to prove we were coerced.”