The Duke's Challenge (9 page)

Her ideas for
rescuing them were sound, but couldn’t be put into practice until the other
matter was settled. They were far too exposed at the moment; there were not
enough men to keep watch. He desperately needed ready funds
,.

He rested his
head on his folded arms; he would have a quick nap, ten – fifteen minutes - no
more. Leaning on a desk was as good a place as any. He was wakened by the sound
of footsteps in the passageway, women’s voices, and the clank of pails. He
pushed himself upright. Good God! It was past six o’clock. He had slept for an
hour; he was out of condition, his body not responding to his will. Too much
brandy, too little food and not enough exercise. But all that was going to
change; from now on he was a new man, he had a purpose in life again.

Irritated by
the clatter in what was usually a silent house, he yawned, stretched and strode
over to open the door. Two young women, sacks tied round as aprons, were on
their knees scrubbing the boards. They froze; he too surprised to react, the
girls too frightened.

The older one
started to scramble up. ‘Your grace, we didn’t realize you were in the library
or we wouldn’t have started cleaning here.’

‘It is of no
matter. I am glad you woke me, I’ve work to do. Is Meltham up?’

‘He is, your
grace, in his pantry sorting out the duties of the new footmen.’

He nodded
politely and, stepping round their buckets, went to find his butler, delighted by
the news there were to be extra men working and living inside. He knocked
sharply on the pantry door. The butler appeared, looking more animated than he
had for years. He beamed on seeing who was disturbing him. Not a reaction Jack
was expecting.

‘Your grace,
I’m delighted to see you up so early. I have some documents from Messrs Blower
and Thomas. I believe they will please you.’ He held out a rolled parchment
neatly tied with blue ribbons.

Jack took it.
‘Could you organise a jug of strong coffee and have it served to me in the
library? And get those girls to clean my rooms. I am sick of living like a
hog.’

Meltham’s face
appeared about to crack. ‘Perhaps, my lord, I could suggest one of the new men
to act as your valet? Robert has had experience in this field.’

Jack was about
to refuse; he had always looked after his own gear, never bothered with a
manservant. But he was a duke and things were different now. ‘That’s a sound
idea. Get him in there with the girls; he can sort out my clothes, find me
something clean to wear. And I shall require a bath as well.’

‘I shall
arrange it right away. Young Robert will suit you perfectly. Shall I arrange
for something more suitable for him to wear? A footman’s uniform is not
appropriate for a valet.’

Jack waved his
hand in assent. ‘Whatever you like; send that coffee straightaway.’

On his return
to the library he spread out the parchment on the desk, moving the candelabra
nearer. His heart beat heavily, his skin prickled with anticipation. He had
remembered hearing the butler’s words to the lawyer last
night,
he had spoken of good news.

He scanned the
spidery black writing, absorbing its contents instantly. He banged his fist on
the desk in triumph. There was money, not a lot, not the hundreds of thousands
that there used to be, but by God, sufficient for his purposes.

It appeared the
old lord had left a few thousands in the funds and this had been untouched by
the commercial disaster with the ships. Over the next hour he did some rapid
calculations, gulping down coffee to keep himself awake. If he spent wisely,
was miserly with his resources, he could restore half the property, but would
close down the rest.

By employing
local labour to clear the grounds, mend the fences, do all the outside jobs, he
rather thought the discontent would go. With repaired cottages and food in
their bellies not many men would still be prepared to risk dangling on the end
of a rope.

He got
up,
satisfied he was ready to explain to Charlotte how
things stood. He glanced at the bracket clock- almost thirty minutes past
seven. He doubted if she’d appear before noon. This gave him ample time to
bathe, change his garments, and, God help him, even to put on a jacket and neck
cloth!

Chuckling he
tossed the paper to one side and as he did so, a second sheet, secreted behind
the first, dropped onto the desk. He almost ignored it, believing this was
merely a letter confirming the financial document, but something prompted him
to pick it up.

The first
paragraph of the letter merely informed him that Messrs Blower and Thomas were
returning the following day in order for him to sign the paper that would
release the remaining money. This was excellent news; he had not dreamt that he
would be able to begin improvements so soon.

He continued
reading and his stomach lurched and he felt his face drain of colour. Horrified
he collapsed back on to the chair. For a moment he stared blankly into space
hardly able to assimilate the words. With shaking hands he held the letter up,
reading the bold black script.

We feel it is our duty to bring to your
attention the fact that Miss Carstairs has been residing under your protection,
unchaperoned, for the past two weeks and this is already giving rise to
unpleasant gossip. Therefore, we respectfully suggest that we should find Miss
Carstairs and her family an alternative establishment in Ipswich, before her
reputation is irreversibly besmirched.

We are yours, respectfully….

Jack threw the
letter down and dropped his head into his hands. How could he have been so
stupid, so immersed in his own misery, own gratification, that he had all but
ruined an innocent young woman? As Charlotte’s only male relative, however
remote the connection, his duty was to protect her, not cause her ruination.
The lawyers, for all their impertinence, had the right of the matter. His
responsibility was to rectify matters and he would do so immediately. He wasn’t
sure how Charlotte would react to his solution.

Chapter Nine

At ten o’clock
Charlotte, dressed in her brown cambric dress, children at her heels, was on
her way to the freshly cleaned breakfast parlour.

‘Annie says we
can eat our meals in there and we don’t have to have trays upstairs anymore,’
Beth informed her.

‘I am delighted
to hear it.’ She could hear activity downstairs and hurried to the balustrade
to discover what was going on. In the hall were two unknown footman, on their
knees, scrubbing the boards. ‘Good heavens! I didn’t realize men servants
cleaned.’ Charlotte smiled down at her brother and sister. ‘Thurston Hall will
soon be clean and tidy and then it will feel much more like a home to us.’

Harry hung
dangerously over the rail and both Beth and Charlotte stepped forward to pull
him back. ‘Don’t climb on there, Harry. It’s a long way to fall down.’

‘But, Lottie, I
can’t see over. I’m too short and all these bumpy animals get in the way of
looking.’

Beth ran her
hand over the carvings laughing at her brother’s protests. ‘I love these;
they’re the best thing in this house. Everything else is dank and dirty and the
ceilings are covered with spiders.’ Charlotte took her brother’s hand. ‘Let’s
go down immediately and see exactly what’s being done and by whom.’ She
deliberately ignored Beth’s complaints, but secretly she felt the same. The
house was just too big and too old to make it truly comfortable.

Both footmen
jumped up, damp sack-aprons flapping. ‘Good morning, Miss Carstairs, Miss Beth
and Master Harry,’ they chorused, obviously well-rehearsed.

She nodded.
‘Good morning, you’re doing an excellent job here, well done.’ They bowed and
Charlotte swept through feeling rather like royalty, not an ordinary soldier’s
daughter.

Harry and Beth
ran ahead and vanished into the room before her. There had been a buffet laid
out on the sideboard; which included several china plates containing sliced
ham, sweet rolls, bread, plum cake, jars of preserves, butter and a jug of
milk.

The children
were standing in awe, gazing at the feast. ‘Look at all this, Lottie. It’s a
banquet. Is it all for us?’ Beth asked, never having seen so much food in one
place.

‘I believe it
must be,’ Charlotte replied. Such extravagance surprised her in the present
financial circumstances. A door opened in the panelling and another new member
of staff emerged.

‘Good morning,
Miss Carstairs. I’m Mary. I’m to ask as to what you would like to drink.
There’s tea or coffee or chocolate? And would you like some coddled eggs, or
such like?’

‘Thank you, but
I think we have more than enough already. I would like chocolate, what about
you two? Both children declined a hot drink quite content with the milk.

They were
seated round the white-damask covered table when Jack strolled in. Harry was
the first to spot him. His eyes rounded and his mouth fell open allowing a
half-eaten mouthful to tumble out. Automatically Charlotte corrected his table
manners. ‘Harry, that’s disgusting. Kindly eat with your mouth closed in
future.’

The little boy swallowed hastily before speaking. ‘But, Lottie, Cousin
Jack’s here and he’s all dressed up.’

Charlotte’s
head whipped round. ‘My word, Cousin, you look smart as paint, I feel quite
drab in my work-gown.’ He bowed, obviously pleased his appearance met with
approval.

‘You’re wearing
a stock, Cousin Jack and your boots are polished. Is there to be a party
today?’ In Harry’s limited experience such sartorial elegance always heralded a
celebration of some sort.

‘No, young man, not today.
But the militia are here. Would
you like to come and see the soldiers when you’ve finished breakfast?’

Without waiting
for permission from his sister Henry threw down his cutlery. ‘I’m finished
already.’

‘And so am I,’
Beth said. ‘Can I come to, please?’

‘Of course.’
He quirked an eyebrow.
‘Is that acceptable with you?’

‘Yes, quite
acceptable, if you’re sure they’ll not be in the way.’

‘Will you join
us? There are things we need to discuss, my dear.’

‘I need to meet
with Mrs Thomas, the housekeeper, but I’ll come directly from there to join you
outside.’

‘Excellent. I shall
be watching for you.’ He ruffled Harry’s hair. ‘Come along, bantlings, we must
not keep Captain Forsythe waiting’

The door closed
behind them leaving Charlotte confused. The urbane gentleman dressed in navy
blue superfine, waistcoat and neatly tied stock, with his buff breeches
spotless, his Hessians so shiny you could see your face in them, was almost a
stranger. Crossly she glanced down at her own shabby dress and was tempted to
run upstairs and change. She did have one other morning gown, a fetching
sprigged muslin in daffodil yellow, but this wasn’t suitable for the domestic
chores she envisaged being involved in that morning.

She smiled;
Jack had also got someone to cut his hair. She rather liked the short style,
and having the thick dark hair brushed forward obscured much of his scar. Why
had he taken the children? Up to this point he had avoided them. What had
caused this
volte face
? Intrigued,
she abandoned her half eaten breakfast, dabbed her lips with a napkin and
hurried to her appointment with Mrs Thomas.

Her meeting was
brief and she left, certain the housekeeper would be able to run the house far
better than she. Delighted this was one responsibility she could safely
delegate, she rushed through the house to keep her rendezvous outside.

The double
front doors were standing open and she could see the soldiers grouped in the
turning circle. She ducked her head, trying to assess how many there were. It
was hard to tell, but she rather thought there were at least two dozen horses
milling about.

On arriving at
the front step, she glanced round. Where were the children? Then she saw Jack,
Harry in his arms, conversing earnestly with a man, who by his appearance was
obviously Captain Forsythe. Beth was close by, mesmerised by the array of
military splendour. She was too young to remember their time on the continent
when such sights were an everyday occurrence.

Charlotte
realized he must have sensed her coming as his head turned and he smiled a
welcome. Her chest constricted and her knees felt strangely weak. She almost
turned and went in to the safety of domestic issues, but something compelled
her to walk across to join him.

Both men bowed
politely. ‘Miss Carstairs, may I present Captain Forsythe to you?’

The soldier
bowed. ‘Delighted to meet you, Miss Carstairs, but could wish the situation
could have been otherwise.’

She nodded.
‘And I’m pleased to meet you, Captain Forsythe.’

Formalities
over, Jack told her what was to happen next. ‘The troops are going to search
the grounds, both mounted and on foot, but if they find nothing suspicious,
they will widen their search to the surrounding villages.’

‘How long will
this take?’

Jack looked to
the captain for an answer.

‘We will be
thorough, Miss Carstairs. Three incidents in two weeks indicate a serious
breach of the peace. We will bivouac in the barns and continue searching until
we apprehend the culprits or are certain they have fled the vicinity.’

‘That is good
news, Captain. It’s not a pleasant to be feeling constantly under threat.’ She
turned to Jack. ‘You wished to speak to me? Shall I wait in the library until
you’ve finished here?’

He nodded.
‘I’ll not be long. If you would wait a moment, I’ll come with you.’ He put
Harry back on the ground. ‘Harry, you must go in with your sister. Your
nursemaid is waiting. I believe she has some tasks for you.’

‘Can we come
out again to see the soldiers later, please, Cousin Jack?’

‘If you behave yourself, lad.
Now, run along, Charlotte and
I have things to discuss.’

Charlotte had
watched this exchange with annoyance. The children were her
responsibility,
they should look to her for permission. She didn’t wait as requested, but left,
head high, and stalked into the hall, displeasure obvious in every step she
took.

*

Puzzled, Jack
watched her go. What burr had lodged under her saddle this time? She was as
unpredictable as a windmill in a storm. Impatiently he turned back to the
waiting captain.

‘Report to me at noon, Captain Forsythe, I wish to be kept fully informed
of your progress. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, your
grace.’ The captain clicked his heels and bowed.

Jack spotted a
horse cantering down the drive and cursed under his breath. Here was the damn
doctor. What did
he
want? Charlotte
was recovered and Jenkins was beyond medical aid. Scowling he stepped forward
to greet this uninvited guest.

‘Good morning,
Dr Andrews, are we expecting you?’

The young man
swung down from the saddle tossing his reins to a newly arrived stable boy.
‘Good day, your grace. Miss Carstairs sent a message to call when I was in the
vicinity. I believe she wants some local information from me.’

Jack didn’t
like this man; he was too young, too personable.
Far closer
to Charlotte’s age than he was, and just the sort of man to turn her head.
Why would a young girl of nineteen summers want to marry him, an impecunious,
imperfect specimen, when she could have someone like the doctor? His mouth
curved – being a duke should tip the balance for him.

‘Miss Carstairs
is not receiving today. The shock of the murder yesterday, you understand.
Perhaps you could call back in a few days’ time?’

Dr Andrews
appeared confused. Jack glanced over his shoulder and was annoyed to see
Charlotte waving merrily from behind the library window. He could hardly send
him packing after this. He fixed a smile to his face. It did not reassure the
young doctor.

‘It would
appear that she has changed her mind. I have estate business to attend to, so I
shall bid you good day.’

*

Charlotte shook
her head in disbelief as she saw Jack storm away like a petulant child.
Sometimes he was more immature than Harry! She supposed their talk would have
to wait until he recovered his temper. She moved to the chairs grouped
informally in front of the empty fire place. She supposed she ought to have a
chaperone; it would not do to be thought to be involved in
two
illicit relationships. She was still giggling at the absurdity
when Dr Andrews was announced by one of the footman.

‘Come in, sir,
it is good of you to ride over. I expect you have heard about poor Jenkins?’

He nodded his
face serious. ‘I have, Miss Carstairs; a bad business indeed. I see the militia
are here, no doubt they will catch the perpetrators if they are still in the
area.’

‘I do hope so.
But this is not why I asked to see you. Please be seated, sir.’ She waited
until he was settled before continuing. ‘I would normally have approached the
vicar, but as you are aware, we do not have one in Thurston at the moment,’ she
paused, marshalling her thoughts.

The doctor
appeared rather uncomfortable, glancing frequently at the open door. To
reassure him she smiled. The young man flushed and fiddled with his stock as
though it was too tight.

‘Are you quite
well, Dr Andrews?’ She stood up and tugged at the bell strap, relieved it
didn’t pull away from the ceiling in a cloud of dust. ‘I shall send for some
refreshments. It is very remiss of me not have done so at once.’

He found his
voice. ‘I am not ill, thank you for enquiring so kindly, Miss Carstairs.
It’s
 
warm
in here,
that’s all.’

‘Please feel
free to open a window, sir.’ Charlotte supposed he was overheated by his
ride,
it certainly wasn’t especially warm in the library.

A parlour-maid
appeared in the doorway and Charlotte arranged for coffee to be fetched. ‘Now,
sir, where was I? Oh yes, information about this area. Could you tell me how
long Thurston village has been so neglected?’

The doctor
seemed happy to talk of anything as long as it wasn’t his state of health. ‘I
do not imagine you would have been aware, Miss Carstairs, that the old Lord
Thurston became unwell in his declining years.
Confused
mentally and unable to run the estate.’

‘I understand,
but did he not have a factor, a bailiff, or estate manager to organise things
for him?’

‘No, at least
there were none when I arrived just over three years ago.’ He smiled. ‘My small
estate, which runs parallel to Thurston Hall, provides me with sufficient
income to live comfortably. I practise medicine as a hobby, not a necessity.’

She nodded,
glad that mystery had been explained. She had wondered why a physician should
wish to carry out his trade in such a poor locality. ‘Then I am delighted you
decided to do so, sir.’ She touched her scar. ‘My situation might have been far
worse without your intervention.’

‘It is kind of
you to say so, Miss Carstairs. I had intended to call on you in a day or two to
remove the sutures. They are more than ready to come out and I believe you will
feel far more comfortable when they are.’

‘I admit they
do pull; it will be a relief to be able to put my hair up once more.’

Her intention,
when she had sent for the doctor, had been to ask for advice about hiring
labour. But as Jack was obviously up to snuff again, and intended to take over
this responsibility himself, her questions were redundant.

‘I wished to
ask you where the nearest church is. I don’t wish to miss another service if
it’s possible to walk there.’

‘I go to the
next
village,
it is a drive of about thirty minutes. I
should be delighted to escort you and the children tomorrow morning, if you
should wish to accompany me?’