Game of dukes, p.10
Game of Dukes, page 10
‘Please don’t presume to tell me how to conduct myself,’ he replied coldly. ‘It’s obvious to me that you enjoy socialising, Alice. You always did, if memory serves, but I have neither the time nor the inclination to dance attendance upon my neighbours.’
‘You will have to take a wife at some point.’
Phin narrow his eyes at her. ‘Will I indeed?’
Alice looked as though she wanted to explain why such a course of action would be necessary, but Phin’s quelling glance served as a deterrent. ‘Well, I’m sure you know your own mind. If you would prefer me to deal with the callers who are bound to come in droves when they hear you are here, I shall be happy to shoulder that burden.’
‘Thank you.’ One of the maids that Phin had seen earlier appeared in the doorway and announced that dinner was served. ‘Shall we?’ he proffered his arm to Celeste, who rose to her feet in one graceful, fluid movement and placed her hand on his sleeve. Rufus stuck…well, doggedly…to Phin’s other side, making him smile.
‘Make yourself available tomorrow morning,’ he said to Celeste in an undertone that only she could hear as they made their way to the dining room. ‘I want you to show me the estate.’
‘How? By carriage? In case you have forgotten, it’s too large to walk it all.’
‘You have a riding habit?’
‘Of course I do.’ She settled into the chair that he held out for her to the right of his own position at the head of the table.
‘Well then, we shall put your equestrian skills to the test.’
She sent him a puzzled look. ‘I hope you don’t expect me to ride that stallion of yours. I am not that accomplished.’
Phin laughed as he seated himself and took a sip of the wine that the maid poured for him to taste, nodding his approval. ‘You will just have to contain your curiosity until tomorrow.’
‘Shouldn’t Mr Goddard be your guide?’
‘Possibly, but where would be the fun in that?’
‘Well, you’re the duke.’
He gave a philosophical shrug. ‘Thank you for the reminder.’
Mrs Gibson had pulled out all the stops and the meal was excellent. The two maids serving it also seemed less harried than they had that morning, no doubt cheered by the arrival of reinforcements in the kitchens and promises that more help in the house would be forthcoming. The wine loosened tongues and the tension gradually became less palpable. Darwin spoke of the July race meeting and asked Phin if he planned to attend. Phin gave him a non-committal response, wondering how Darwin could afford to be there, given that no gentleman would attend a race meeting without placing wagers. He assumed he must have some funds of his own, perhaps the residue of Emma’s dowry that he reserved for his own amusements. Celeste had assured him that all previous lines of credit extended to his family by the old duke had been curtailed and Phin would make it clear at the earliest opportunity that he had no intention of settling any debts run up by Darwin. Emma he would look after, if it came to it, but Darwin could plough his own furrow.
After the ladies had withdrawn, Phin did not linger over port. He excused himself and John rose from the table with him, as did Rufus, leaving Darwin and Alvin to enjoy the remnants of the decanter.
‘Go to bed, John,’ he said when they reached the hallway. ‘It’s been a long day.’
‘You?’
‘I shall be up soon, but I can look after myself. There are a few documents I found earlier in my uncle’s library that I want to read. Old reports regarding the grazing rotation.’
‘Reading for the insomniac,’ John said, rolling his eyes.
‘Precisely. Good night, my friend.’
Chapter Six
Celeste did not return to the drawing room. Alice had made it abundantly clear that she tolerated her presence under protest when her brother had been in the room but had no desire for her inferior company, or that of her mother, when the ladies were alone. Since Celeste and her mother returned those sentiments, the arrangement suited them perfectly well. They had fallen into the habit of retiring to the duke’s library after dinner, where they either selected reading material or talked over the events of the day, enjoying one another’s company free from Alice’s resentment and Toby’s predatory stares.
Since Phin would likely be occupied with his port for some time, she saw no reason to change that habit. Reading was a luxury that she’d had little time for this past year. She had been too exhausted at the end of long days during which she got precious little help and a great deal of criticism from Alice. She slipped into her favourite room in the house and selected a novel that her mother had recommended she read but which she’d had no opportunity to start before now. She curled up with her feet beneath her on a settee beneath the window and lost herself in a fictional world.
She read the first chapter quickly, then paused to consider its implications. She guessed how the story would progress. The clues were already obvious and she could quite see why her mother had enjoyed it. Escapism in its purest form. Mama had possessed a romantic nature, and every page of this particular tome had catered to her sensitivities. But for Celeste it seemed unrealistic. The heroine was a servant who attracted the attention of the son of the house on page two—a man destined for a high position within society. Yet it was clear that he would throw it all away for the woman he loved.
‘Ridiculous,’ she muttered, shaking her head.
‘What is?’
The deep gravelly voice that posed the question gave her a violent start. Her heart beat a little faster as she closed the book abruptly and returned her feet to the floor. She held out a hand to Rufus when he trotted up to greet her as she took a moment to regain her composure and arrange her features into a neutral expression.
‘I apologise,’ she said, looking up at Phin. ‘I should not be in here. This is your domain now. It’s just that I thought you would be…’
‘Drinking myself insensible. You mistake me for Darwin.’
‘I can assure you that I would never confuse the two of you. Speaking of whom…’ She pointed out the window. Phin followed the direction of her gaze in time to see two horses being ridden down the rubbish-strewn drive, picking their way carefully around the potholes and fallen masonry.
‘Darwin and Alvin off to the local tavern, I take it.’
Celeste nodded gloomily. ‘I had hoped that your influence would cure Alvin of the need for Toby’s company.’
‘Rome was not built in a day.’
He sat beside her, too close, too large, too distracting, too masculine and self-assured…too every damned thing. His presence unsettled her, but the settee was only intended for two, so unless she stood up and claimed another chair there was nowhere for her to retreat to. She didn’t want to seem unsophisticated so she stayed where she was, trying to appear unperturbed by the heady feelings of awareness that caused embers of nervous warmth to invade her senses.
‘Am I disturbing you?’ he asked in a tone that sounded a little too innocent.
Yes. ‘Not in the least,’ she replied, folding her hands neatly in her lap and focusing her gaze upon them. That would be safer than looking at him and risking him detecting the lie, she decided. ‘It is your library. It is I who am disturbing you. Doubtless you came in here with the intention of doing some work, and I am keeping you from it.’
He placed a hand on her arm to prevent her from standing. ‘It can wait. I would prefer to talk to you. What are you reading?’
‘A novel that Mama recommended, but it is not to my taste. Far too unrealistic.’
‘Yet we live in a real world.’ A warm smile fuelled his eyes. ‘Surely an author of fiction has a duty to draw his reader away from the mundane. Otherwise we would all stick to books intended to improve our minds and our spiritual wellbeing. Only imagine how tedious that would be.’
She returned his smile. ‘In other words, I am a shallow creature for preferring fiction, even if I do not always enjoy what I read.’
‘Not at all. I am simply saying that our only limitation as human beings is the extent of our imaginations. Just because something has never been done, it doesn’t follow that it’s unachievable.'
‘Even so, for me a satisfying story must be believable.’
‘So you say, but truth is often stranger than fiction.’
She blinked up at him, absolutely convinced that he had moved closer to her. His thigh now accidently pressed against hers, but if he had noticed he made no attempt to remove it. She wondered how it could have happened, because she had been watching him closely and hadn’t noticed him move a muscle. God forbid that she had unconsciously moved closer to him and he now imagined that she had deliberately contrived the contact!
Her cheeks warmed with mortification. He must have become accustomed to women throwing themselves at him, even before he had inherited his uncle’s title. A handsome, compelling, intelligent man of wealth would have been a magnet for just about every single woman of his acquaintance in America. Probably half the married ones too, and she would hate for him to think that she harboured expectations. She most emphatically did not. If the contact had been made by her, it must be because his greater weight had caused the cushions to dip towards him.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, her voice sounding unnaturally shrill.
‘Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities, but truth respects no boundaries and constantly throws up surprises.’
‘But that’s ridiculous!’ She waved her novel at him, feeling more in control of her emotions now that she could make a case that had nothing to do with muscular thighs, compelling smiles or the combined aromas of citrus soap and prime territorial male. ‘A future earl in this book is bored with his life, transfixed by the smiles of a pretty kitchen maid and, in chapter one, is already thinking of absconding with her. If he does so, his father will cut him off without a penny and they will have nothing to live on, but practicalities don’t appear to have crossed the ridiculous man’s mind. How can that be convincing?’
‘Your mother must have thought so if she recommended the book.’
‘My mother did not possess an analytical mind.’
‘Then I am glad for her sake. Clearly, you cannot boast a romantic nature, which is a very great pity, and you insist upon knowing the mechanics of every situation.’ He shook his head in mock disappointment, laughing at her. ‘Sometimes it is impossible to explain the unexplainable and one must simply accept things the way they are.’
‘There is always a place for romance in the world,’ she replied, colouring. ‘But one must also consider possibilities. The earl in this book is admittedly very young, so I don’t suppose he will have seen much of the harsh realities of the world. He would have been protected from them, but his kitchen maid had not been, and since woman are usually the more practical sex, she should have pointed out the pitfalls inherent to being permanent hungry. Love is all very well, but it does not fill an empty belly.’
‘Yet the poets would have us believe that love conquers all.’
‘Oh, the poets.’ She dismissed their opinion with an airy wave of one hand. ‘They have their heads in the clouds and are generally afforded…well, poetic licence. Most conveniently for them, no one expects them to adhere to the realities you mentioned earlier.’ She sent him a provocative smile and was almost sure it produced a low growl of frustration from Phin. It was gone before she could be sure, making her doubt what she had heard. Dukes did not growl at their subordinates any more than earls eloped with kitchen maids. ‘Anyway, with regard to this book, the earl would have been better advised to marry a girl who met with parental approval and kept the kitchen maid as his mistress, if he absolutely could not live without her. Then everyone would have been content.’
‘Except for the kitchen maid, perhaps.’
‘Oh, the earl would have set her up in a cottage somewhere, I expect. Isn’t that how these things are done?’
‘Are they?’ He raised a brow in innocent enquiry. ‘If I ever decide to take a mistress I shall not be ashamed of her and I will not hide her away. She would deserve better,’ he said, fixing her with a deep, penetrating stare that made her blush.
Celeste swallowed, mortified when it occurred to her that he might think they had been discussing her mother’s situation. She had been so caught up in a lively exchange conducted with a man of intellect that she hadn’t stopped to consider its wider ramifications. In made such a pleasant change to be able to converse with anyone in this household without feeling Alice’s disdain or sensing Toby’s predatory intent. She had let her guard down and was now in danger of looking foolish.
‘The girl would have the sense to remember her place,’ she replied with asperity, seizing the opportunity to make her position clear. ‘The earl would be expected to live up to his role as a member of the aristocracy, but society’s doors would be firmly closed to him if he lowered the tone by asking them to admit a kitchen maid to their inner circle. Only imagine their horror.’
He chuckled. ‘I barely can.’
‘Naturally, they would close ranks against her, and I hope the girl would have had the good sense to realise that if she allowed passion to guide her decisions she would be ostracised in a world to which she did not belong. She would be out of her depth, would be looked upon with scorn, and when the passion wore off she and her earl would have nothing to talk about.’
‘Perhaps the earl didn’t care about society’s silly rules.’ A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. ‘Or a meeting of minds, either.’
‘Then he is a very foolish fellow and I don’t have one iota of sympathy for the plight that he brought upon himself.’
‘You make a persuasive argument, and I now despite the fellow. If he does not possess the courage of his convictions then he is not worthy of the girl’s regard and she would be better advised to save her smiles for a handsome footman.’
‘I am very glad that I have made you see sense. But bear in mind that the earl is very young. Younger than Alvin is now, and it is my observation that boys are sometimes reluctant to mature and shoulder their responsibilities. Alvin certainly is. Look how easily you have already influenced his thinking, simply by including him in plans that revolve around horses.’
‘I hoped to do you a service by keeping him out of your hair.’
‘Thank you, but I rather think your first priority was to separate him from Toby’s bad influence.’
‘That too.’ Phin paused, absently ruffling Rufus’s ears when the dog placed his head on his thigh. ‘He is quite determined to marry you, you know. He told me so on the ride back from Newmarket.’
Celeste laughed and brushed the suggestion aside. ‘I refer you to our earlier discussion. As things stand, until you take a wife and she bears you an heir, Alvin is next in line to the title. If that stallion you are convinced you can master throws you and you break your neck before that time…’ She smiled and spread her hands. ‘Well, you see what that would mean for Alvin.’
‘What a charming suggestion.’ He seemed more amused than offended by her pragmatism. ‘I wish you would have greater confidence in my abilities.’
‘You must be aware what pride is generally considered to come before,’ she responded with a sparkling smile. ‘As to Alvin, he and I are the same age. Which of us do you think is the more mature and level-headed?’
Phin inclined his head. ‘Point taken.’
‘Mind you, I am sometimes tempted to pretend I am considering his frequent proposals, if only to irritate Alice.’ Celeste chuckled. ‘Not very kind of me, I know, but she brings it upon herself.’
‘You are tired and I am keeping you from your bed,’ Phin said, when she failed to completely disguise a yawn behind her hand. He stood in one fluid movement, took her hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘I will let you go, but remember we have an engagement to explore the estate in the morning.’
‘I have re-engaged two maids, whom I will have to set to work. I also have to interview potential footmen.’
‘I admire the speed with which you get things done. I too dislike procrastination. When I decide upon a course of action, I see no reason to delay. Once you have settled upon the footmen, have them do the heavy lifting in the drawing room. Moving furniture, taking down drapes and pictures to be cleaned, so that the maids can set to work in there.’
‘Very well. I shall need to call in the sweep as well. Goodness alone knows when that chimney was last swept.’
‘Have him do all the chimneys in the main part of the house whilst he’s at it.’
She acknowledged his orders with a brisk nod. ‘As you wish.’
‘Will you be able to set all that in motion and still meet me at the stables by ten o’clock?’
‘I am not in the habit of idling my time away in my bed, your grace. I shall easily be able to keep that engagement.’
‘I am so glad.’ He raised the hand that he still held in his to his lips and kissed the back of it. ‘Now be gone,’ he said, releasing it again, ‘before I forget myself completely.’
*
Phin waited until her footsteps had receded and there was no possibility of her returning. He then threw himself back on the settee, where a suggestion of her perfume lingered, wishing she was not such a compelling distraction. She was the only aspect of his unwanted inheritance that he truly valued.
‘Apart from you, of course,’ he added for Rufus’s benefit, bending to scratch his ears.
Seeing the manner in which his childhood home had been permitted to fall into such an advanced state of neglect had come as a considerable shock. He was surprised how much he cared and was glad that he had the means to put it right, even though it would make a considerable dent in his fortune. The restoration of the two wings would have to wait until he his breeding programme at the Abbey started to show a profit.
How competently he dealt with the memories he had buried remained to be seen. His return had already caused them to resurface, bringing with them questions he’d been too young to even consider asking when he and his father had left England. He wanted to know what had caused his father and uncle to argue so violently, convinced that the answer must lie somewhere amongst his uncle’s personal papers in this room. Papers that had remained untouched since Celeste had had the foresight to keep the room locked and retained the only key.
