Duke of Honor, page 16
“In the end, I believe things worked out as they should have. I can see now why His Grace and I would never suit. I am eager to get away and start my own life. I am certain he feels the same.”
“Are you packing your belongings then?” Arabella asked.
“Yes. My maid, Millie, has expressed a desire to go with me. I hope it is all right if I bring her along tomorrow, Phoebe.”
“Both you and Millie are welcome to stay at Windowmere for as long as you wish though I know Samantha has expressed a desire for you to attend her birth.”
“I am happy to be with her when the child comes. I have delivered a good number of babies over the years on the estate.”
“You may return to Blackstone Manor whenever you wish,” Jon encouraged. “Arabella and Elizabeth would be happy for your company.”
She smiled. “I will keep that in mind, Your Grace. Thank you. I also plan to visit Elise at some point.”
“Don’t forget that you will have full access to our London townhouse,” Arabella reminded.
“Since we will be staying at Blackstone Manor indefinitely,” her husband added, gazing fondly at his wife.
Hadley knew from his comment that Arabella must have shared with her husband that she believed herself increasing.
“Then it is settled. I will go and collect my things and make sure everything is in order for His Grace when he returns tomorrow. I will be back in time for dinner and the dancing tonight,” she promised.
“Eat something,” Jon urged, “and then come to the stables. I will make sure the carriage is ready to depart by the time you are ready to leave.”
After a quick cup of tea and a few bites of toast, Hadley excused herself, wanting to avoid Sebastian. She wondered if he had spent the entire night on the carpet in the library and then decided it was none of her concern. She would do her duty and see that his home would be ready for his arrival tomorrow.
She rang for Millie and the two went to the stables. Blackmore introduced her to his coachman and instructed him to take the pair to Hardwell Hall. Hadley closed her eyes in the coach and the motion lulled her to sleep, which she badly needed. Millie shook her once they arrived and she told the girl to pack her own belongings first before seeing to Hadley’s.
“I don’t have much, my lady,” Millie revealed.
She laughed. “I don’t either. I took all the new gowns which Mrs. Porter made up for me to the house party. All I have here are the few threadbare ones and my usual wardrobe of shirts and breeches.”
“Don’t go wearing those again, my lady,” Millie cautioned. “You look ever so pretty in a gown.”
“Lay out my clothing and shoes. I will decide what I will take and what will remain behind.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Radmore greeted them as they entered, along with Mrs. Sewell.
“You have returned early, Lady Hadley,” the butler said. “You weren’t expected until tomorrow.”
“I will no longer be residing at Hardwell Hall, Radmore,” she shared. “Millie has instructions to pack my things. Once she had done so, we will go back to the house party and see it to its end. Millie is also coming with me, Mrs. Sewell, so you will need to hire a new parlor maid.”
Both servants looked stunned by her declaration and Hadley added, “This is for the best. His Grace needs to be fully in charge now. I will go to the study and make certain everything is left where he can review it.” She was thinking of the reports she had composed during the days Sebastian had traveled to London. “Once he reads through what I have written, it should be self-explanatory.”
“Where will you go, my lady?” asked the housekeeper.
“London,” she said. It was her eventual destination and she didn’t want Sebastian knowing she would be in Devon with the Windhams. Not that she thought he would come after her, but she believed what she did from this point on was her own business and not his.
“You will be missed,” Radmore said, his eyes full of sorrow. “I know there is no time for you to ride the estate and say goodbye to all the tenants but would you mind if I gathered the servants and allowed a farewell when you depart?”
“That would be lovely,” she told him. “Give me two hours’ time and then I will let them see me off.”
Hadley went directly to the study. Everything was already in excellent order because she kept meticulous, neat records. She did lay out the various reports she had prepared and wrote a few notes to Sebastian, telling him where to look for certain items and improvements she had made to the system Mr. Vickers, the former steward, used in the ledgers. Once that had been accomplished, she ventured upstairs, where Millie had set out the clothing that remained in the wardrobe.
“There’s very little here, my lady,” the maid apologized.
“I agree. The gowns are too worn for me or anyone else to ever use them. Give them to Mrs. Seward to be used as rags. I will keep a pair of breeches and one each of my shirts and short coats, along with my boots. The rest can be distributed among the servants here. There are a few young grooms that are small and might actually fit or grow into the remainder of my wardrobe.”
She had no mementos from her childhood. No books she wanted to take with her. No jewelry. No personal items of any kind. It saddened her to think how little she had. Oh, she did have access to funds. She would need to write her solicitor in London and make him aware of the situation, that she now ventured out on her own. She decided she would travel and spend time with her new friends until the new year. Only then would she make her way to London and see what the great city held in store for her.
Millie packed the few clothes and pair of boots Hadley wanted in a small valise and placed it on the floor next to one of similar size.
“You have everything you need?” she asked the girl. “Remember, we won’t be coming back.”
“I do, my lady.” Millie smiled. “I am ready for our great adventure.”
“Then let us go say our goodbyes.”
The pair went downstairs and Hadley saw all the servants lined the foyer. As she descended the stairs, they began applauding. Tears sprang to her eyes as she went down the line, hugging every one of them, memories of the past decade flooding her.
Finally, she reached Mrs. Sewell. “You were a fine mistress, my lady,” the housekeeper said. “Even though you were so young when you first came to us. I wish you every bit of the best.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Sewell. You taught me a great deal. One day when I have a house of my own to manage, I will incorporate everything you taught me into running the place.”
Radmore escorted her to the carriage and said, “It was the best day I’d seen at Hardwell Hall when you arrived, Lady Hadley. And each progressive day only grew better under your leadership. You will be missed.”
She kissed the butler’s cheek. “Thank you for everything, Radmore. Take care of His Grace,” she added, despite her ambivalent feelings toward the duke.
The coachman helped her into the carriage and Millie followed. As the vehicle pulled away, Hadley closed the door on the years she had spent at Hardwell Hall.
Chapter Seventeen
Sebastian heard a voice coming from a long way off.
“Go away,” he mumbled and tried to swallow. His mouth felt as if he had been eating sand. He desperately needed something to drink but the thought of acting on that impulse overwhelmed him.
“Sit up, Your Grace,” the voice said firmly and he was pulled to a sitting position.
He tried to open his eyes and found them practically glued shut, matted together. His head throbbed painfully. Every muscle in his body ached. Nausea enveloped him. He felt as weak as a newborn kitten.
A warm rag was placed against his eyes. “This will help you open them in a moment. Hold it in place.”
He obeyed the voice, realizing it was his valet.
“Where am I?” he asked, pressing the rag to his eyes as a blinding shot of pain zipped along his forehead, causing him to gasp.
“Best drink this,” Bardham advised. “It is a Highland Fling.”
The valet took Sebastian’s free hand and wrapped it around a mug, helping guide it to his lips.
“Drink it all,” cautioned Bardham. “The quicker, the better.”
He parted his parched lips and greedily guzzled the concoction, which tasted awful. Grimacing, he continued swallowing it merely because it was liquid and he hoped it would moisten his dry tongue and throat.
Once he drained the nasty brew, he shoved it away and pulled the rag from his eyes, prying them open with force. His head pounded fiercely and the nausea continued to ripple through him as his heart beat rapidly.
Glancing about, he asked, “Is the room spinning?”
“Not the last time I checked,” his valet remarked, taking the wet cloth and rubbing it over Sebastian’s face as if he were a child incapable of doing so.
“Where am I?” he asked again since it was too much effort to look about a room that kept moving.
“The Duke of Blackmore’s library.”
He frowned. “Why am I here?” he demanded, wincing at the sound of his voice.
“I suppose because you drank yourself into a stupor and passed out, Your Grace.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost noon.”
He put his hands to his pounding head. “I was here all night?”
“I assume so,” confirmed Bardham. “You never rang for me. You are still wearing last night’s clothing. I searched the house and found you here half an hour ago when I discovered you hadn’t slept in your bed.”
“And you are just now awakening me?” he asked, his irritation obvious.
“I have sent for a bath. I also had to perfect my special concoction.”
“That foul liquid you poured down my gullet?”
“The Highland Fling is a well-known Scottish remedy for a hangover.”
“You are not a Scotsman,” Sebastian growled, rubbing his temples, seeking relief.
“But I grew up within a hair’s breadth of the border, Your Grace.”
“What was in it?”
“I stirred corn flour into buttermilk and heated it in a pan. Seasoned it with a bit of salt and pepper to make it more palatable.”
“It was rot.”
Bardham glared at him. “Do you want my help or not, Colonel?”
“Yes,” Sebastian said meekly, beginning to realize the position he was in.
“Then we’ll get you up first. That will be an accomplishment in itself,” predicted the valet.
“I don’t want anyone to see me like this,” he said, thinking immediately of Hadley.
“Her Grace has gathered all of the guests and they have gone outside now for luncheon on the terrace.”
“Good,” he mumbled, grateful that no one would see him in such a dismal state.
Somehow, Bardham got Sebastian on his feet. He realized he wasn’t wearing some of his clothes but had no memory of undressing. The valet gathered the missing items of clothing and gently led Sebastian to his room, passing only one maid. She lowered her eyes and scurried down the stairs past them.
By the time they arrived in his assigned chamber, the hot water had been sent up and was still steaming. Bardham stripped the rest of Sebastian’s wrinkled clothes from him and helped lower him into the large tub. The water felt good, immediately easing his aching muscles.
“Wash. You stink of spirits and sweat,” Bardham said and left.
Sebastian braced his neck against the tub and simply soaked for several minutes. His heartbeat lessened somewhat though the raging headache remained. Finally, he lowered himself completely, dipping his head under the water and rising again. He washed his hair and lathered his ruined body, each movement painful, though the room no longer swam. As he bathed, he tried to remember anything about last night that he could. He had gone to the salon. The gardens. Then the library. Yes, the library. He had deliberately drunk as much as he could because he wanted to forget his troubles.
An image of Hadley swam before his eyes. He could almost feel her touch.
Had she come across him in his drunken state?
He had no recollection of it. Just an eerie feeling that somehow she had been with him. He prayed that it was his imagination. He had already hurt her so much. He would hate for her to have seen him this way.
Bardham returned and helped Sebastian to stand, pouring fresh water to rinse him. The water sluiced down his body. He glanced briefly and always seemed startled by the scars, a permanent part of him. Thankfully, Bardham never mentioned them.
He stepped from the tub and wrapped a bath sheet about his waist.
“You need to be shaved.”
“I can do it,” he said stubbornly, grasping for some kind of control.
The valet’s brows rose. “Can you, Your Grace? Your hands are shaking.”
Holding one out, he saw how it trembled.
“I will do it,” Bardham said gently.
After the shave, the valet dressed him and led him to a chair by the window. A tray sat there and Sebastian smelled strong coffee.
“Coffee with plenty of sugar in it. Dry toast. Keep that down and we’ll see if you get anything else,” Bardham pronounced.
Sebastian took his time eating and drinking the meal. The throbbing in his head had lessened to a dull ache. His body still hurt but he knew he would live.
“What have I missed today?”
“This morning, several guests went riding after breakfast. They came back in time to change and freshen up for luncheon. I believe Her Grace plans for archery this afternoon.”
“I will skip it.”
“You will do no such thing,” chided the valet. “That would be rude to your hostess.”
“When did you become such an expert on manners in Polite Society?” he grumbled.
“You don’t have to participate. Just sit and watch.”
“Then tea, I suppose,” he guessed.
“Yes. Followed by a light dinner and dancing with a midnight buffet. Several musicians have already arrived and the Blackmores have invited guests from the nearby village to the country ball to close out the house party.”
He remembered now. The thought of dancing made the room swim again.
“We will be leaving first thing in the morning after breakfast,” he told Bardham. “Be sure Lady Hadley’s maid knows and has her packed and ready.”
“Very well, Your Grace. Any more to eat?”
The thought of ingesting more food caused his belly to turn over. “No.”
Sebastian made his way carefully downstairs and outdoors. The day was overcast and he gave thanks for it since what light there was burned his eyes. He found Andrew at a table and sat next to him. They remained in companionable silence as two dozen other guests participated in an archery contest. He appreciated that his friend didn’t comment on his appearance.
Once the contest ended, tea was brought out to the terrace. Others joined them and he managed to get down half a sandwich and a sand tart, along with four cups of tea. His immense thirst didn’t seem to be quenched no matter how much he drank. Sebastian swore never to touch a drop of whiskey again.
He did surreptitiously watch Hadley as tea progressed. He hadn’t seen her during the archery contest but he couldn’t stop looking at her now. She sat with Elizabeth, Lord Hayward, and Lord Stanhope. She never glanced in his direction.
After tea ended, he managed to stand and thank Arabella.
“You have two hours until dinner, Sebastian. Might I suggest you lie down and rest during that time?”
He supposed it was her polite way of telling him that he looked like hell.
“An excellent idea,” he agreed, mustering a smile.
“Not everyone will attend dinner. I can always have a tray sent up to your room if you would prefer to dine alone.”
He nodded. “Please do so, Arabella. Thank you.”
Sebastian returned to his room, where Bardham sat reading a book.
“Wake me when the meal tray comes. Not a second before,” he said as he collapsed onto the bed, falling into a dreamless sleep.
*
Sebastian still felt a bit shaky but he had eaten the dinner sent up to him. Dancing might be difficult to navigate, however.
Bardham removed the tray. “I need to shave you again, Your Grace.”
“You did that earlier,” he complained.
“I did but I already see new whiskers upon your chin. Tonight is the culmination of the house party and the duke and duchess have invited both their tenants and townsfolk to this country ball. The least you can do is turn out looking your best. His Grace is a good friend to you and you do not want to embarrass him.”
He thought of what Jon—or Arabella—might have thought if they had stumbled upon him passed out in the library and was grateful they hadn’t discovered him in such a sorry state. He owed Bardham for locating him and smuggling him upstairs.
“Very well. I am at your disposal.”
After shaving Sebastian, his valet dressed him in his evening clothes, taking extra care to perfect his cravat.
“You look marvelous, Your Grace,” Bardham said. “Do you plan to offer for a wife this evening?”
“No,” he said succinctly and left it at that.
“Very good, Your Grace. I hope you enjoy a pleasant evening with your friends.”
“Have you spoken to Lady Hadley’s maid?” he asked, wanting to be sure that issue had been resolved.
“I have. Millie is quite aware of your urgency to return to Hardwell Hall and will convey that to her mistress. I will see you when the ball is over.”
“Bardham?” Sebastian called out as the valet reached the door. “Thank you. For everything.”
His servant smiled. “Of course, Your Grace. It is a pleasure to serve you.”
He was truly grateful the former batman had come calling after the war. It was nice to have a familiar face around him. He did remember some of the servants at Hardwell Hall from his childhood, such as Radmore and Mrs. Sewell, but so many new faces had come to work at the estate during the years he had been absent. He looked forward to meeting his tenants and getting to know more about his estate. The thought caused him to wonder how long Hadley would remain at Hardwell Hall. He didn’t think she would stay more than a week or two. Just enough to see that he could manage on his own.
