Duke of Honor, page 17
Sebastian hated letting her go. Part of him believed she was the tonic he needed to rid himself from the dark shadows of his past. The saner part of him agreed it was best to let her move on. That he was a lost cause and would only cause her heartache and grief. Still, he longed for a dance with her this evening though he doubted she would grant it to him.
He had put it off long enough and decided to go downstairs. He followed the music wafting up the staircase he descended and soon entered a large ballroom. Being a country ball, the guests included the well-dressed houseguests who danced alongside and even partnered with staff members at Blackstone Manor and Jon’s tenants. Citizens from the nearby village were also in attendance. Despite the swelling number in the ballroom, he easily found Hadley. She wore a gown of deep magenta and looked as regal as any queen ever had. He watched her dancing down a line with one of the footmen, joy on her face as she whirled about.
“Ready to make for home?”
Sebastian turned and found George at his elbow. “Yes. Though the idea of home seems almost foreign.”
“You were away a good number of years,” his friend noted. “Give it time. I am sure you will settle in nicely within a few weeks.”
“Are you ready to be a father?” he asked.
“The thought terrifies me,” George admitted. “And then I look at Sam. How radiant and serene she is. I feel my love for her flowing through my veins. Then a calm descends upon me, knowing how much we want this child and how lucky we are to have found one another after so many years apart.”
Weston and Jon joined them and they talked at length about everything and nothing in particular. Eventually, each of his friends drifted away to find their wives and Sebastian searched until he found Hadley again. She stood next to a man that Jon had pointed out as the local doctor who had been to see Arabella. Jon had revealed to them earlier that his wife was expecting a child come the spring.
He moved nearer to them, knowing he wouldn’t ask Hadley to dance but just wanting to walk past her and inhale the familiar vanilla scent that clung to her.
Suddenly, a servant brushed past him. “Doctor, can you come quick? One of the scullery maids burned her hand badly and Cook asked me to find you.”
“Certainly.” The man looked at Hadley. “My apologies, my lady, for missing our dance.”
“Please, go. See to the maid,” she urged.
The doctor turned and spotted Sebastian. “Oh, Your Grace. Might you partner with Lady Hadley? I must abandon her to see to a patient.” He quickly exited, leaving Sebastian gawking at Hadley.
He tried to recover his composure as the music began and he asked, “Would you care to dance?”
Without waiting for her reply, he took her in his arms and launched into the waltz. She averted her eyes, looking over his shoulder, feeling stiff and unwieldy in his arms. None of the grace she had exhibited on the dance floor was apparent now.
“Hadley?”
Her eyes cut to him. “I’d rather you address me as Lady Hadley, Your Grace. Actually, I prefer you not to address me at all.”
As her mouth tightened, his insides went cold. She gazed at him with revulsion.
She knew . . .
He hadn’t dreamed of her soft hands touching him. She had been there last night—and had seen his scars.
Sebastian had to realize that she was, for all her intelligence, a very sheltered woman. She had never been exposed to that kind of horror before. It was only natural for her to be uncomfortable in his presence now, knowing what lay beneath his finely-tailored clothes.
Dully, he said, “I don’t remember but I can guess that you found me last night. I must apologize for my state of drunkenness.”
She remained silent, once more gazing over his shoulder, as if she couldn’t stand to look at him.
His heart hurt but he had to let her know that he understood her feelings. “I disappointed you. I also know you . . . you saw what . . . was done to me. I understand I physically repulse you.”
Hadley’s gaze whipped back to him. “You are certainly right about that, Your Grace. I find I can no longer be in your presence. I find it awkward and distressing. You are repugnant to me.”
It was like she had bayoneted him in his gut. His feet stopped moving. His mouth gaped. A secret part of him had dreamed that he would one day reveal his disfigurement to her and that she would be able to look past the damaged flesh. His arms fell from her.
“I wish never to speak to nor see you again, Your Grace.”
With that, Hadley left the dance floor and walked out of his life.
Chapter Eighteen
Sebastian sat in the chair next to the window, his eyes grainy from lack of sleep. A knock sounded on the door.
“Come,” he called and watched as his valet entered the bedchamber.
“You did not ring for me, Your Grace. I was worried and came to check on you. Breakfast is almost over and most of the guests are beginning to depart.”
“I wasn’t hungry. I need to dress now.” Wearily, he stood.
Bardham helped him into fresh clothes without trying to make conversation. He supposed word had spread even to the servants’ hall of Lady Hadley abandoning the Duke of Hardwick in the middle of a dance and storming off the ballroom floor.
He had felt the intense, questioning stares and quickly exited the ballroom himself, not wanting to see or speak to anyone. Retreating to his room, he had barred the door and remained in his evening clothes all night, moving restlessly about the chamber, sleep impossible.
Once his cravat had been tied, he said, “Have my trunk brought downstairs and the carriages brought around.” He paused. “And notify Lady Hadley’s maid that we will depart soon.”
Sebastian left the room and went downstairs. The foyer was a flurry of activity, servants scurrying about. He saw Elizabeth deep in conversation with Lord Hayward and decided not to interrupt them in order to tell her goodbye. Venturing outside, he saw carriages lining the drive, trunks being loaded onto them. He went to Jon and Arabella.
“Thank you for having me,” he said. “I apologize for not being an ideal guest.”
Jon placed a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “You are just home from the war. It will take time to adjust to society. I know you are eager to return to Hardwell Hall.”
Arabella leaned up and kissed his cheek. “We aren’t that far away, Sebastian. We are here when you need us.”
He noticed she said when—and not if.
“Thank you,” he said humbly, admiration for her swelling within him. He was happy his old friend had found such an amazing woman to be his duchess.
“Sebastian!” Andrew called.
He turned and saw Andrew carrying Robby in his arms, Phoebe beside him. Sebastian approached them and heard Robby babbling contentedly, drool running down his chin. Impulsively, he bent and kissed the baby’s head.
“I am glad you made it back in time to attend the house party,” Andrew said. “It’s good to have you back in England for good.”
“I am happy to have finally met your wife,” he said. Looking to the duchess, he added, “You have made my friend the happiest of men by giving him a son.”
Phoebe gazed at him thoughtfully. “I am pleased to have made your acquaintance as well. Know that Windowmere is open to you at any time. We hope you will visit us soon.”
“It may be a while before that occurs,” he shared. “I need to see to my country seat first and then travel to my other holdings and look them over. I do appreciate the invitation, however, and hope I can take you up on it in the future.”
He offered his hand and Andrew took it. “Safe travels to you and your family.”
The Windhams made their way to the first carriage in line. A nurse leaned out from it and took Robby and then Andrew handed Phoebe into the carriage. He turned and waved goodbye and then entered the vehicle himself. Moments later, it took off, soon followed by a second carriage carrying their servants.
“Sebastian, good, we didn’t miss you,” Weston said, coming up and pounding him heartily on the back.
He saw Elise, George, and Samantha followed Weston and he told each of them farewell, congratulating Elise on the babe she carried and wishing Samantha the best as she awaited the birth of her child.
“You have married well,” he told his two friends. “Former rogues who are now settled as doting husbands.”
“And fathers-to-be,” George added, a huge grin on his face. “Don’t be a stranger, Sebastian. Come to see us. Our estates are so close that visiting one of us is like a trip to see both of us. In fact, we rode to Blackstone Manor together.”
“Our carriages are next to depart,” Weston said. “This is goodbye.”
Sebastian watched the two couples leave and looked about to see if Hadley had made an appearance yet. Frowning, he saw she hadn’t. Bardham came hurrying toward him.
“Why isn’t Lady Hadley here?” he demanded, trying to keep his voice down and his emotions in check.
“She has already departed, Your Grace,” the valet informed him. “We may leave whenever you wish.”
Disappointment filled him. Though he had known the short journey home would be awkward, it surprised him that Hadley had inconvenienced their hosts by asking for separate transportation to Hardwell Hall. It also let him know just how much she loathed him, not wanting to spend any time alone together.
“Very well.” He strode toward his carriage and nodded to the driver before climbing inside. Within seconds, the vehicle started up.
He allowed his mind to go blank during the ride. During his time in captivity, he had done the same thing as he had been beaten and tortured. Mentally, he fled to another place of quiet and total whiteness. No thoughts. No looking forward or backward. Just a place of existence. He remained there until he sensed the motion of the wheels come to a stop and disembarked once the coach came to a complete halt.
Radmore met him. “It is very good to have you home, Your Grace.”
Sebastian’s stomach grumbled noisily in reply.
“I will have Cook prepare something for you at once,” the butler said, chuckling.
“Have it brought to my study,” he instructed. “And have Lady Hadley meet me there. We are to go over estate matters together. See that we are not interrupted.”
Sebastian strode off, wondering how to prepare himself to see her again. Perhaps they would forego any personal conversation and move strictly to discussing the estate and its upcoming autumn harvest. That would be best. She would impart her knowledge. He would ask questions to clarify matters. Then she would be free to leave and never return.
He opened the door to the study and saw neat stacks of papers atop the desk, so unlike the days of the former duke when Hardwick left things haphazardly. It seemed everywhere he looked, he would find Hadley’s hand in things. Moving to the window, he saw that a chessboard sat on the table between the two chairs and recalled her telling him of Hardwick teaching her how to play, well enough to not only master the game but for the pupil to claim victory over her teacher.
He gazed out the window, steeling himself for her arrival. Some minutes passed, tension filling his body as his head began to pound at the temples. He had led men into battle, cannons firing and bullets whizzing past, yet he had never felt as apprehensive as he did at this moment. She thought the very worst of him and nothing he could do or say would ever change her mind.
A light rap sounded on the door and he turned as Radmore pushed it open, a tray in his hands. He set it on the table behind the desk.
“Tea and sandwiches, Your Grace. It was all Cook had time to prepare with short notice. She will prepare a more substantial meal—”
“Did you summon Lady Hadley as ordered? She should have arrived by now.”
Radmore shook his head. “I am afraid Lady Hadley isn’t here, Your Grace.”
“Not here? She left the house party before me this morning. Has she already come and gone again?” he demanded.
The butler cleared his throat. “Lady Hadley no longer resides at Hardwell Hall. She left with her things and told the staff goodbye yesterday.” He paused, sadness blanketing him. “She will not be returning.”
Stunned, he merely shook his head back and forth, not comprehending what the butler had just revealed.
“Lady Hadley wishes for everyone to give you their full attention and respect, Your Grace. She thought it best to leave before you even arrived. However, she did spend a great deal of time preparing the reports on your desk. She told me they are self-explanatory and should guide you through the coming weeks.”
“I see.” He felt adrift. “That will be all,” he said dismissively, wanting to be alone.
Radmore hesitated and then nodded, leaving without a word.
Sebastian went and sat behind the desk. The sheaf of papers directly in front of him was labeled Hardwell Hall. He began with that stack, reading slowly through voluminous notes written by Hadley. It contained a wealth of information. The name and position of every servant and their years of service. Work that had been completed on the house during his absence, including the cost of the repairs and who had completed each project. A list of bills to be paid monthly. Names of every tenant on the property and those of his family. Twice, Hadley had made a notation of a babe that was expected and when the wife might deliver the child.
He delved deeper and read about various crops produced during his time away. Which ones had seen the largest profit. The fields in which they had been rotated to and from. He found pages regarding livestock and the pastures they frequented. The number and types of horses in his stables. Sebastian had never seen such thorough work in his life.
As his tea grew cold and the food remained untouched, he moved his attention to the various piles. Each pertained to a different estate in his holdings and were just as thorough as the ones he had perused. A wealth of knowledge was contained in all of these reports. He couldn’t imagine how long they had taken to research and prepare. It must have been all Hadley had done while he had been away in London.
Her notes directed him to various ledgers on the shelves behind him and he began pulling those from the shelves and flipping through their pages. Ignoring the knocks at the door, Sebastian spent all day and most of the evening going through what had been left for him. He heard the chiming of a clock in the distance and counted to ten. Weary, he emerged from the office, his head full of numbers and names, all swimming about.
Sebastian wished he could at least write to Hadley and thank her for such a treasure trove of detailed information. The trouble was, he hadn’t a clue where she had gone.
*
Hadley woke in her bed at Treadwell Manor and stretched. Cleo, who had been snuggled against her side, stood and did the same. The cat moved up to her mistress’ face and rubbed her cheek against Hadley’s. She stroked the smooth fur, grateful for her companion.
She had fallen in love with Caesar during her time at Windowmere. The tabby must have sensed her sadness because he began following Hadley about, sitting in her lap anytime she sat and even choosing to sleep with her over Phoebe and Andrew. Because of this, Phoebe had insisted Hadley accompany her to the stables, where a mama cat had given birth to a litter of kittens that spring. The head groom had given away all of the kittens save for one, a tiger-striped female, who remained with her mother to help keep the stables free of mice.
Hadley fell in love with the kitten, who was five months old, and had named her Cleo for Cleopatra. Cleo and Caesar had become close companions during Hadley’s three months at Windowmere. When she left for Colebourne Hall, Cleo came with her. The cat became her shadow and constant companion and the very pregnant Samantha had told George that when spring came, he needed to find her a kitten, as well. George had teased that a baby should be enough but Samantha insisted. Knowing how George doted on his wife, Hadley knew Samantha would get her wish.
She had delivered Samantha’s daughter, Sophie, the first week of December and stayed through Christmas with the Colebournes before returning to Blackstone Manor, where she spent the entire month of January with Jon and Arabella. She felt safe doing so only after learning that Sebastian would be away from Hardwell Hall as he toured his various properties. He had spent Christmas with Jon and Arabella and then departed for the north of England, where he had a property near York.
Her time at Blackstone Manor passed quickly. Arabella was in good spirits and had reached the point of her pregnancy where she still had abundant energy. Hadley knew from experience that once she left, Arabella would begin slowing down and going through a nesting period before she gave birth.
She petted a purring Cleo again and told the cat, “We should get up. I need to dress and take you to the kitchens for your breakfast. Then it will be time to pack.”
Hadley had journeyed to London after visiting the Blackmores and spent many hours at Madame Toufours’ dress shop. The modiste had taken Hadley’s measurements and then they had looked at countless bolts of fabric and discussed various designs for her wardrobe for the upcoming Season. She would be returning to London tomorrow since Elise had given birth ten days ago and all seemed well with both her and her newborn son. After time spent with her three good friends the past six months, Hadley was ready to return to London for more fittings and to begin discovering more about the city that she already loved from her short sojourn there.
She rang for Millie and the maid appeared, her usual cheerful self.
“Good morning, my lady. And a good morning to you, Miss Cleo.”
At the start, Millie had been leery of the cat. She had never been around one and was afraid it would bite or scratch her. Cleo had a sweet nature, however, and soon Millie doted on the cat as much as Hadley did.
As Millie assisted her, Hadley said, “You will need to do our packing today. We will leave for London first thing in the morning.”
