Page 80 of Lady for a Season
Merlin whinnied at the sight of him.
“Hello, my boy. How are you this morning?” Edward made his way to the storage room and scooped up a bucket of oats, which he took back to the horse, who nibbled a few handfuls. Edward offered some to Lacey, boxed alongside Merlin, who snuffled eagerly in his palm, polishing off the rest of the oats.
“All gone,” he said, showing both of them the empty bucket. “Enough for one morning, I think.”
He stroked Merlin’s delicate ears, then leant his face againstthe horse’s forehead. “Why can’t it be easier?” he asked out loud. “Every time I think I have made a decision I feel I have failed.” He sighed, raised his head again and patted Merlin’s neck. “You’re a good listener. I had better be getting back now. Perhaps we shall ride later.”
He turned to find that Old John was leaning on the stable door, watching him.
“Us servants used to talk about you, when you was a little lad,” he said, without any kind of greeting.
Edward couldn’t help stiffening. “How unlike my father and older brother I was?” he asked, trying to keep the tightness out of his voice.
“Aye.”
Edward didn’t reply. He was fond of Old John, but he didn’t want to hear this now, the repetition of everything he already knew and feared about himself. That he was unfit to be a duke, how much more suited to the role his father and brother had been, both large, loud, commanding…
“We used to say ‘twas a shame you weren’t firstborn.”
Edward blinked. “What?”
Old John gave him a slow smile. “We used to say how you’d make a right good duke. That you was kind-hearted and loyal, that you looked out for people on the estate and were good to them when you could be, even as a little lad, that you were gentle with animals.”
“But my father –”
“Was a bully. And your brother headstrong and thoughtless, God rest both their souls. Your father ruled with an iron fist inside and out and your brother barely thought about this place at all, only wanted the fun of being rich and handsome, didn’t want to bother with the duties that come with being master of Atherton Park.”
Edward stared at him, speechless.
“You’ll be thinking I’ve overstepped my place, speaking so forthright. But I’m an old man, you can turn me out if you wish, I’ve served my time now. My daughter would take me in. But I thought, the young Duke don’t know himself yet. He do be staring in the wrong looking glass. All he can see is his father and his brother and that’s what he thinks a duke is. Perhaps it would ease his mind to know how others saw him. How his servants see him.” He straightened up, looking Edward directly in the eye. “You’re a good man, Your Grace. A right good duke. The past is gone now. You needn’t fear the future, ‘cos you’ll do well. You’ll have to learn a lot, but you’ve got a good heart. And no-one can do better than a man with a good heart.”
Edward had a sudden powerful urge to weep, to throw his arms about Old John and thank him. The old man had gazed into his very soul and seen all his most secret fears and swept them away with his stable broom, to float away on the wind as though they were nothing but chaff, lighter than air rather than heavy burdens. He swallowed and held out his hand. “Thank you,” he said, voice gruff. He did not trust himself to say more, but Old John’s eyes creased into a smile and his hand was warm and firm in Edward’s clasp.
“You’re welcome, Your Grace. Now, will you be wanting to ride out?”
“No,” said Edward. “No, I have something else I need to do.”
Old John watched him go, striding from the yard, and nodded. “Good lad,” he murmured to himself. “Good lad.”
Chapter 11:
Letters
Maggie awoke before dawn on Wednesday morning and lay staring at the ceiling. Today was the day, everyone knew it. Edward was to propose to Miss Belmont, before tomorrow’s ball which would become a celebration of their engagement. By choosing Miss Belmont and paving the way for an heir, he would secure his freedom from Doctor Morrison and his mother, hopefully for good. And as soon as he took that step Maggie would no longer be needed, would most certainly no longer be wanted on the premises by the Duchess.
The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed and chimed again. She wanted,neededto speak with Edward. She needed him to know that she loved him. It would make no difference, of course, for he must still choose Miss Belmont. But she needed to tell him, to speak privately with him one last time before they were separated forever.
She pulled the bell for Jane, who arrived after a brief delay.
“Sorry, Miss, I had to wait for the hot water. There’s so many maids downstairs trying to bring up water to the bedrooms.”
Maggie nodded without listening; she wanted to be dressed and able to leave the room as soon as possible.
“Your hair, Miss.”
“As quick as you can, Jane.”
As soon as she was finished Maggie hurried down one floor and along the corridor until she came to the ducal suites, one for the Duchess, one newly made over for Edward. She knocked on Edward’s door. No answer.
