Page 5 of Season of the Scoundrel
Striding down the block, he shifted his focus to the workday ahead as he spotted the offices ofThe London Sentinel, the newspaper he’d acquired a few months ago. It was his newest project and one that he intended to turn into a triumph.
Some thought it inappropriate that a duke should own a newspaper, or engage in commerce of any sort. But Ross had long ago realized that success in business was the only way for his dukedom to survive. And he wasn’t the only nobleman who invested in industry or owned enterprises. The smartest ones ignored the disdain of their stuffier peers and focused on the far more vital goal of keeping their noble families and estates from falling into ruin.
The Sentinelhad been failing, but he’d brought on a new managing editor and additional staff, who’d helped to turn things around. Their circulation had ticked up. The paper was no longer running at a loss, and they were quickly becoming a popular London daily.
As he entered the main door, then headed up to his office, a clerk passed him on the stairs. They exchanged a nod in greeting, but then the young man rushed past as if hellhounds were on his heels. One of the lady typists passed by next, wearing a similar uneasy look on her face.
Then the Duchess of Blackbourne’s warm, elegant voice rang out, and he understood his staff’s dismay. His mother was enthusiastically schooling whoever had been ill-fated enough to prepare her cup of tea incorrectly. His mother could orate with as much passion about tea as others enthused over art or poetry.
Ross reached the top of the stairs, headed toward his office, and smiled at the sight of her as another clerk rushed past. His mother’s hat, a grand velvet and floral concoction, dipped as she sipped her tea.
“Mama,” he said, then bent to kiss her cheek. “What brings you to the city?”
“Darling, you know very well what brings me to the city on this particular day.” She pointed to a wrapped gift on the top of his desk. “Happy birthday, my son. Do open it.”
Ross slipped the ribbon from the box and lifted the lid to find two smaller boxes inside. One was from Fortnum and Mason and likely contained a collection of teas she knew he liked. The second box was smaller, and upon opening it, he found a ring inside with a sizable faceted emerald at its center, surrounded by glinting diamonds. He recognized it as one that had been in their family for centuries.
“You’re giving me one of the family gems?”
“Indeed. When you propose, you’ll want a special ring to offer your chosen lady, won’t you?”
Ross arched a brow and sighed lightly. “Am I proposing to someone that I’m not aware of?”
“Have you not chosen your bride yet?” she replied, quick as the snap of a whip.
“Mama. I know that you are a keen reader of the scandal rags. If I had proposed to anyone, you would certainly know. Therefore, you must be aware that I have not.”
His mother smiled; mischief glittered in her blue eyes. “But it is time that you do.”
Ross resisted the urge to retort. She’d come all this way. Might as well let her have her say.
“My darling, you are now thirty years old. I can accept that you prefer to spend your time here in the cityworking.” She put derisive emphasis on the word. “And I know that you will eventually spend a few months at home with us.”
“Mama…” He wouldn’t stomach the implication that he ignored his ducal estate or his duties. He visited the Sussex manor frequently, and staff members and a trustworthy, talented steward took care of matters at Blackbourne Manor when he was not in residence.
She lifted a bejeweled hand. “I know you have your investments, your businesses, your clubs, your charities, my dear. But a dukedom needs a duchess to oversee it and heirs to carry it forward. Those are your responsibilities as much as keeping our coffers healthy, for which I am very grateful, as, I assure you, are your younger brother and sister.”
“I’m well aware of my duties, Mama.”
Lifting her cup, she sipped her tea, winced, and gave him a smile that seemed to say,Then do your duty.
“While I am in London for a bit of shopping with the holidays in mind, I thought I might just come and offer a reminder?—”
“The same reminder you’ve offered every year for the last decade.”
“Goodness, has it been that long? And not a single proper and appealing young lady has crossed your path in all that time?”
Ross swallowed as heat swept through him. A certain young ladyhadstumbled straight into his path less than a quarter of an hour ago, and she was certainly appealing. Though he doubted is mother would find a lady who’d throw herself in the middle of a street fracas to be proper.
Maddeningly, when he licked his lips, he imagined he could still taste vanilla.
“I’ve had the dower house refurbished to my liking,” his mother went on. “I’m quite looking forward to moving in. And to having a daughter-in-law. And grandchildren.”
“I take your meaning, Mama, and I will consider the matter.”
She held his gaze a moment, her eyes searching as if she could see to the very depths of his soul.
“Will you make this a priority?” she asked softly. “While seeing to your newspapers, your railroads, and your banking interests, please take a moment to find yourself a duchess. Let it be this year. Neither of us knows what life holds. The future is uncertain.”
