Masquerading with the Duke: Ducal Encounters Series 4 Book 2, page 4
She touched his arm, then astounded him by standing on her toes and placing a delicate kiss on his cheek. ‘Thank you,’ she said with heartfelt sincerity. ‘I don’t know what I would do without you.’
‘Your position here is secure so you need never find out,’ he replied.
‘I had best go and see to Martina, if you will excuse me.’
Amos did so and watched her walk away with swift and agile grace, her hips swaying beneath the flimsy muslin of her summer skirts. He felt himself stirring, something that hadn’t happened for a while, and for which he held Ariana entirely responsible. She was more tempting than she had any right to be, mainly because she had always held him at arm’s length. She treated him with the respect due to an employer but was also able to tease him out of his curmudgeonly moods when appropriate. She had certainly not shown the least interest in kissing him before now.
She must feel conflicted in this place, Amos thought. She was paid to look after his children, but Frankie also insisted that she dine with the family and ensured that she had the appropriate clothing to make that possible. He knew that she was anxious for news of her brother, lost somewhere in Spain since the war. No one knew if he was alive or dead but Amos had instigated investigations in that respect. These things took time and he would not raise Ariana’s hopes by discussing what he had done until he had positive news to impart.
He wondered if she would eventually decide to return to Spain and found himself feeling decidedly opposed to the idea.
‘Damn it, Crista,’ he muttered aloud. ‘I don’t want to think like that and it’s all your fault for leaving me.’
Disgruntled, he slowly made his way back to the house, touching the side of his face where Ariana’s lips had briefly made contact with it as he did so.
Chapter Three
‘I thought the countryside was supposed to be all peace and quiet,’ Ramsay complained as he helped Jared to dress the following morning.
‘Good heavens, whatever gave you that idea?’ Jared asked. ‘There’s just as much skulduggery in the country, but everyone knows everyone else’s business so there’s less chance of getting away with it.’
‘Blimey, I haven’t even met the locals yet. I was referring to the wildlife.’
‘Same thing,’ Jared replied, chuckling.
‘Damned foxes barking and owls doing whatever owls do and making a fine old racket about it. Kept me awake half the night. Then, damn me if the birds don’t start singing their blasted heads off right outside my window at first light.’
‘Less intrusive than the sounds and smells of Paris,’ Jared pointed out, not without sympathy for his man, who’d been a town dweller his entire life and had convinced himself that country life was dull in comparison. ‘Safer too. Give it time. It might grow on you.’
Ramsay pulled a doomed expression. ‘Anything’s possible, I suppose.’
‘Right, let’s to it.’
Dressed in shirt sleeves and ready to confront his first day as a country landowner, Jared made his way downstairs with the ever-faithful Thor close at his heels. Thor didn’t care where he went, just so long as he wasn’t parted from Jared. Since Jared had no objection to his company, the arrangement worked well.
Man and dog found Gregson awaiting them in the entrance vestibule. Impeccably attired, with highly polished shoes and not a hair out of place, Jared briefly wondered if he had slept and if so, how early he had been required to rise in order to present a picture of such sartorial elegance.
‘Morning, Gregson,’ Jared said, feeling shabby and underdressed in comparison.
‘Good morning, sir. I trust you slept well and found everything to your satisfaction.’
‘I did indeed, Gregson. Slept like a baby. Not used to fresh air, it knocks a man out. Anyway, this chap and I shall take a turn outside. I will break my fast in an hour. Oh, and Gregson, lay out breakfast in the morning room. No need to go to the trouble of setting the large dining room up just for me.’
‘As you wish, sir. Some letters have arrived for you.’
Jared didn’t doubt it. He had a fair idea whom at least one of them must be from and somehow resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His family didn’t believe in letting the grass grow beneath their feet and were too thick skinned to accept defeat, graciously or otherwise.
‘Thank you, Gregson. Leave them on the desk in the library. I will get to them later.’
Jared wandered outside with no intention of spoiling his first morning as a man free of governmental responsibility by fending off his relations’ appeals for financial help. Not that they would be crass enough to make the demand outright. Guilt and inuendo was more their way.
Thor scuttled ahead of him, his body parting the overgrown shrubs as he sniffed out interesting messages left by the nocturnal creatures that had so offended Ramsay’s sensibilities. Jared hadn’t had the time to examine the gardens on his only previous visit but could see now that they would be spectacular when restored. They’d be a talking point. He was fond of gardens artfully arranged to make them look as though they had happened by accident and was impatient to see his grounds subjected to that treatment.
His stroll took him to the doors of the cottage set aside for the steward. The key was attached to a small bunch in his pocket, which he produced. He managed to open the swollen door by applying his shoulder to it and giving it a hefty shove. It gave way reluctantly, the sound of protesting wood scraping against the flagstoned floor. Releasing the trapped dust, fetid air and the smell of something that had been dead for some time, Jared stood back and fanned his face with his hand. Not similarly deterred, Thor scampered inside and returned almost immediately with a dead pigeon, presumably responsible in part for the smell, clenched between his jaws. He seemed disappointed when Jared ordered him to drop his prize, but he did so and looked up, wagging his tail expectantly.
Jared wandered through the house. Apart from the warped front door, the windows and roof appeared sound. He would have Ramsay arrange for men to fix up what needed fixing and then have his maids give it a good clean. He was enthusiastic now to get a steward in place so that they could plan a strategy to bring his acres back to profitability. There was no reason, he thought, why he shouldn’t do that and attempt to discover the identity of the traitor at the same time. If the man lived locally and suspected that Jared knew his identity, he would be keen to silence him before he could take his suspicions to a higher authority. That being the case, Jared knew there was every chance of another attempt being made on his life.
With such gloomy speculations percolating through his brain, he wandered back outside, relocked the door and continued with his perambulation. It was only nine in the morning but already hot and humid, the sun majestic in a clear blue sky. He walked beyond the old vegetable garden to the start of the fields that he hoped to see under crop by this time next year, then turned his mind to thoughts of livestock. A steward who knew his business would be able to advise him on a subject that he admittedly knew little about, but was more than ready to learn.
He thought of going on to the tenants’ cottages but decided against it. Once a steward was in place, it would be his responsibility to oversee the restorations and find suitable occupants for the dwellings.
Jared threw back his head and breathed in the clean, fresh country air, telling himself that he was content, that he had done the right thing. His walk drew him towards a tributary of the river Itchen that ran through his property. Today it was a half-hearted trickle, but Jared had been told that there was good fishing to be had when the river was fuller. It flowed westerly over a chalky bed through water meadows and provided an abundant supply of brown trout. It continued on past Jared’s land to flow almost beneath the shadow of Winchester Cathedral and out into open country, supplying a livelihood in various guises for locals and poachers alike.
Thor had no respect for the fishing rights or the preserve of locals and splashed enthusiastically in the shallows, making Jared smile. Once it rained and the river was in full flow again, Jared suspected that instead of fishing, he would indulge his love of swimming, assured of privacy on his own land. It was an appealing idea, and one of the deciding factors that he’d taken into account when buying the estate
He whistled to Thor, who had already emerged from the river, shaken himself off and turned his attention to chasing down yet another interesting aroma. The young dog’s energy was near-inexhaustible, even in this heat. Together they returned to the house. Jared breakfasted in a leisurely fashion, and then retired to his library.
‘I am expecting Braithwaite in an hour,’ he told Gregson. ‘Let me know as soon as he arrives.’
‘Very good, sir.’
Jared threw open the library windows. An overgrown hollyhock in full bloom flopped its heavy head through the opening, as though demanding to know who the devil he thought he was. Thor, who had been fed in the kitchens, followed Jared into the room still smacking his lips together and flopped down in front of the window, presumably in the hope of catching a breeze. He was likely to be disappointed, Jared knew, since there wasn’t a breath of wind to be had.
Sighing, Jared turned his attention to the correspondence that awaited him. A couple of legal documents pursuant to the purchase of this property and something official from the foreign office regarding the termination of his employment were set aside for the attention of a solicitor. He would ask Braithwaite to recommend someone local. The letter he had both expected and dreaded sat at the bottom of the small pile. He slit open the seal, recognising his older brother’s hand, and knew it would contain a mild threat of some kind.
He discovered upon reading it that his mother’s health was much improved. Since she had the constitution of an ox and to the best of his knowledge was never unwell—she looked upon illness as a weakness of which she did not approve—Jared saw through the veiled criticism and refused to feel guilty. His brother Arthur had inherited the family home in central London and responsibility for their mother along with it. She lived permanently with Arthur and his family, interfering at every turn and generally throwing her weight around.
Jared hadn’t expected to benefit from his father’s estate and preferred to disassociate himself from a man of such questionable loyalties anyway, which was just as well since no provision had been made for him. Now the tables had been reversed. Jared, using a small legacy and his own wits, had increased his fortune exponentially. He wondered sometimes if his substantial and unexplained wealth could be the reason why suspicion always fell upon him whenever secrets leaked out. He could explain how he amassed his fortune and perhaps he would, if anyone bothered to ask him. And if he decided it was any of their damned business. But nobody had asked, so the cloud of suspicion continued to hover over Jared’s loyalties.
Arthur, in contrast, had taken bad advice, had developed a yen for gambling for high stakes, and was in dun territory as a consequence. Suddenly, the younger son of whom the rest of the family had never approved because he was his father’s most outspoken critic could do no wrong. Jared had felt obliged to pay a duty call to Charterhouse Square upon his return to England. Arthur’s wife Camilla and his mother, both of whom he disliked, descended upon him like vultures and paraded him in front of just about every eligible young woman they could coerce him into being polite to, most especially a rather formidable Miss Elliott.
Their intentions were as transparent as their lack of finesse. Miss Elliott was a little long in the tooth and her wealthy father was becoming increasingly desperate to marry her off. Presumably her massive dowry made her an attractive proposition, regardless of her plain looks, grim countenance and opinionated character, but it seemed the lady had a mind of her own and had adamantly refused all offers that came her way. But Jared, it seemed, had met with her approval and he suspected that her father had promised Arthur a handsome handout if he brought the match about.
Sadly for his brother, Jared had no intention of obliging him.
Jared leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly and letting out a string of soft curses when Arthur’s letter informed him that he, Camilla and their mother had a yen to see his estate; an estate that Arthur had advised Jared most forcibly not to purchase. It was, he knew, a rather blatant attempt to extract funds from Jared in return for not inflicting him with their unwanted company.
Jared penned a curt reply. Without mincing his words, he made it clear that he would not be entertaining in the foreseeable future since the house was not habitable; nor would he help Arthur to keep the bailiffs from his door. He had brought his problems upon himself. His family were, of course, welcome to visit but they would have to put up at the village tavern. He chuckled as he sealed his letter, knowing that his words would cause offence and that they wouldn’t lower themselves to such a degree. They might have pockets to let but they still maintained standards.
When Gregson appeared to inform Jared of Braithwaite’s arrival, he took the opportunity to tell his butler that he would not be at home to callers.
‘There are likely to be a few,’ he said. ‘No doubt the locals will be curious to know who’s taken the place on. For now, let them leave their cards; nothing more.’
‘I understand completely, sir. Shall I show Mr Braithwaite in?’
‘Please do.’
Braithwaite walked into the library and gave the room an appreciative look. ‘A great improvement already, sir,’ he said, shaking Jared’s outstretched hand. Thor looked up, flapped his tail when he sensed no threat to Jared’s security, and returned to his slumbers. ‘I feel a great sense of belonging in this room, being a bibliophile myself, you understand.’
Jared assured him that he did and invited him to take a chair. He had been impressed by the man’s efficiency in brokering the sale of the estate and considered him to be a useful contact in the area.
‘I have the need for the services of a local solicitor,’ he told Braithwaite. ‘Can you recommend someone reliable?’
‘Mr Max Sheridan,’ Braithwaite replied without hesitation. ‘He is the Duke of Winchester’s cousin and has premises in Shawford. His reputation for discretion is beyond question. Would you like me to fix an appointment for you?’
‘No need, thanks. I intend to explore the village myself later today. I’ll call in and arrange to see the gentleman,’ Jared said, thinking it would be a good way to make initial contact with the duke’s family.
Jared discussed his other requirements with Braithwaite, asking him to liaise with Ramsay so that the situation with the gardens could be speedily rectified. He also asked for recommendations for stewards.
‘I have already received enquiries from potential candidates,’ Braithwaite told him. ‘As soon as news that the estate had been sold became public, several had the foresight to come to me, extolling their own virtues. Would you like me to arrange for the more suitable ones to be interviewed?’
‘Whittle them down to the two or three best qualified and then I will see them myself.’ Jared stood to indicate that the interview was at an end. ‘Thank you for your help, Braithwaite. I appreciate your efforts on my behalf.’
‘Welcome to the district, sir. I hope you will enjoy the tranquillity of country life.’
‘I am sure I shall.’ He rang the bell twice, summoning Ramsay, and the two men took themselves off to the estate office to discuss the employment of gardeners.
‘Right, Thor,’ he said a while later. ‘Let’s stretch our legs.’
Still in shirtsleeves and hatless—it was too hot for formality—Jared and Thor made their way to the stables, where Jared introduced himself to the one groom who had thus far been employed.
My name is John, sir,’ the groom said, doffing his cap. ‘Mighty fine team you have here,’ he said, glancing at the four greys who had conveyed Jared’s travelling chaise on the final leg of its journey. Taking care of them would keep one man fully occupied, but John had their coats gleaming and all four horses were contentedly munching at hay.
‘I shall employ some help for you, John,’ Jared told him. ‘I intend to buy a decent saddle horse and another conveyance. But in the meantime, let’s saddle up one of these fellows. I have a yen to explore the village.’
‘Right you are, sir. And if it’s a decent horse you’ve a hankering for, you could do worse than enquire at his grace’s stud. They used to produce just Noniuses but they’ve diversified and they’re bound to have something that would match your requirements.’
‘Thank you. I shall enquire. A Nonius might suit me as well as anything. I’ve heard good things about them.’
‘Aye, they’re strong, they have great endurance and a good turn of speed,’ John said as he slipped a saddle onto the back of the grey that Jared favoured and tightened the girth.
‘You sound knowledgeable, John. Where did you work before taking up this position?’
‘In a livery yard the other side of Winchester. The owner sold up and my services were no longer required.’ Jared suppressed a frown, his suspicions aroused by a voice that was a little too educated for that of a mere groom. ‘Happens. Was glad when this opportunity came up. Lived in this area all my life. Didn’t want to move further afield.’
Jared nodded, thinking he had been too long in the diplomatic game, seeing shadows where none existed, doubting everything he was told, never taking anything at face value. John seemed highly experienced and proficient at his work, as evidenced by the ease with which he’d coped single-handedly with Jared’s team of four. He was surprised that anyone would dispense with his services voluntarily. Could he had been put forward for this position by the foreign office to keep an eye on him? Or had the real traitor—a local man with enough sway to make it happen—arranged for John to apply for the vacancy?
‘Glad to have you here, John,’ Jared said, his tone giving none of his suspicions away.
Experienced grooms not afraid of hard work were few and far between so Jared decided to make the most of his services and worry about potential ulterior motives if his nebulous suspicions were confirmed.
