Page 79 of His Duchess in Disguise
“And I love you, Leo Brady,” Emma replied.
Holding hands and swinging them like children, they went to their rooms to change for dinner.
The End?
Chapter 1
The former Admiral Leo Brady didn’t want to be the next Duke of Menhiransten; he had other goals in mind. He had risen quickly through the ranks. But here he was, back in London and about to return to the ancestral home.
The grim irony of all this is that my father all but threw me out the door of Menhiransten the last time I was home for refusing to lend him the blunt for a new carriage. Now I shall be obliged to take care of Menhiransten and all her people. She was a lot more profitable as a figurehead on my last ship.
Garth, his older brother, had been the result of the late Duke’s first marriage, which had doubled the size of the estate and given him connections to the King. The Duke’s first wife had birthed Garth readily enough, but her second lying in had not gone as well. She died of childbed fever along with her infant daughter.
Leo was son to Lady Miriam, the late Duke’s second wife, a gentlewoman of impeccable breeding but little fortune. Or, to put it another way, the late Duke had fallen in love with her. His father and his mother had a wonderful relationship. She had gladly extended her love to the Duke’s oldest son and heir apparent. Unfortunately, Lady Miriam had gone into the arms of the grim reaper some weeks before Leo declared his independence and ran away to sea.
I am not sure whether I am more grieved for the loss of my kin or the loss of my ship. Damn, but I miss her deck already. And if one more schmoosing nincompoop approaches me about “good investments,” I’ll find a yardarm to hang him from.
Wooden faced, Leo took up a handful of earth from the mound beside the graves and sprinkled some over first his brother’s then his father’s casket.Garth was a good man. He just had a little too much tutelage from my father. Had my mother been able to sway him just a tiny bit more, my brother would have done well. I believe I shall miss him after all.
Leo walked away from the ceremony, leaving the priest, his cousins, and the retainers to finish decently burying his father and brother. It was rude, but he could bear no more of the false wailing of the mourners, the worried faces of the servants, and the general air of uncertainty.
Leo was not poorly dressed. His impeccable mourning attire was from Scott, the tailor who did for many military men. The black broadcloth of his coat fit his broad shoulders perfectly, narrowing to a slim waist that required no corseting to look trim. The skirts of his coat shrouded neatly fitting breeches that were by no means as tight as was fashionable but were still well made and nicely fitted. The clocks on his stockings were modest gray silk, depicting the standing stones from which his estate took its name. His shoes had sensible heels. The buckles were well burnished but plain. His dark brown hair was neatly cut militarily and topped with a well-made stovepipe hat of modest height.
He did not stroll, but neither did he hurry toward the somber carriage that awaited him at the edge of the graveyard. Each footfall was placed with calm authority. When he reached the carriage, he stepped up into it and settled himself on the comfortable leather seats. Taking his hat from his head, he leaned back against the cushions and closed his eyes. This was his third funeral of the day, the other two had been to pay respects to members of his crew lost in his last battle at sea. They had won, and he had brought home both his own ship and the one they boarded, but it had been bloody hard work, with the emphasis on bloody.
“Are you well, Your Grace?” a small man clad in the self-effacing modest clothing of a personal secretary asked.
“As well as can be expected, Hamilton. Too many graveyard visits today. What is next on my itinerary?”
“You are expected in chambers to discuss naval and military efforts, Your Grace. The Prince Regent will not be in attendance, but . . .”
“Thank heaven for small favors. How did you manage to wrangle that, Hamilton?”
“I? How could I possibly arrange such a thing? It seems that His Highness was called to an exceptionally important dinner across town. A certain lady has a new cook and called upon him for his opinion.”
“Hamilton, you are a complete hand. But I thank you. This meeting will go much better without Prinny’s input. In fact, if I pace it just right, I might get to lay my head upon my pillow before daybreak tomorrow.”
“Oh, no, Your Grace. Your presence is required by her Majesty, Queen Charlotte. It seems that tonight is presentations.”
Leo groaned. “Did you not tell her that I am in deep mourning, having only just buried my father and brother today?”
Hamilton permitted himself a small smile. “You must realize, Your Grace, that I did not speak with Her Majesty myself. Rather, I spoke with her secretary. He assures me that you need not dance, but merely attend. I believe the Widow Pearthorne will be in attendance.”
Leo sat up in astonishment. “Jemmie Pearthorne is dead?”
“I am sorry, Your Grace. I thought you knew. He fell last fall, not long after you sailed.”
“Well, that explains it. I am sorry to hear it. Captain Pearthorne was a good man. I’ll be sure to say a word or two to his widow. How is she carrying on?”
“Rumor has it that she is writing a memoir. Everyone is in a twit because she has a very caustic way of looking at things, and all the members of the court are sure that they are about to be lampooned by her rapier wit.”
“That somehow does not seem quite like her.”
“You would be amazed, Your Grace. But as it happens, I have spoken with her. While she is not above letting the courtiers fret, she is actually writing about her experiences in France.”
“Well, well, thatdoessound like her. Hamilton, if you would, please see if you can find some excuse that I might come away shortly after dinner. It will not do to leave before since that would upset Her Majesty’s table arrangement.”
“Quite so, Your Grace. I believe that after brandy is served, you could handily make your excuses. Her Majesty is worn to a thread with His Majesty’s illness and Prinny’s antics.”
