Page 6 of Masquerading with the Duke
‘Thank you, Gregson. The staff have done an excellent job.’
Home. Was it home? Did it feel like it? Jared pondered the question as he assessed the library, its shelves full of the books that he had purchased along with the rest of the contents of the manor, not a speck of dust in sight. The smell left behind by vigorous polishing lingered in this room too. The servants appeared to be efficient and keen to please; an encouraging start. Jared couldn’t abide disorder and was pleased to discover that his newly-employed retainers shared that view.
‘We were not told to expect any ladies, sir,’ Gregson said.
‘I am not married, Gregson, and shall not be entertaining in the immediate future.’
‘I understand, sir.’
Jared nodded to Gregson and took the stairs two at a time, with Thor sticking close, clearly worried about being abandoned again. Ramsay had found the main bedchamber and was unpacking the few possessions that Jared had brought with him from London. The rest of his clothing had been sent on ahead and had already been unpacked.
Jared sat at the window seat, staring out at the peaceful countryside, his mind already full of ideas to improve the estate and turn it profitable. Thor jumped up beside him and rested his head on Jared’s lap.
‘We are going to make this work,’ he told his dog. ‘And make people stop thinking the worst of us too. It grows tedious.’
*
Frankie smiled at Zach and Amos as they emerged onto the terrace and the children spilled over them like enthusiastic puppies. Amos felt excluded and momentarily bitter at the manner in which Zach and Frankie looked at one another with such utter devotion, but he chased the unworthy emotion away. He wondered if he would ever experience that unique sense of oneness with a woman he adored ever again. When all was said and done, did he want to? It seemed disloyal to Crista’s memory even to entertain the possibility, but sometimes the loneliness, the aching futility of carrying on without her, made him think of new beginnings.
He took a chair beside Zach, feeling a part of the family gathering and yet oddly excluded from it. And restless, too. His younger daughter Miranda launched herself at his legs, eradicating much of his melancholy with her uncomplicated adoration and cries of ‘Papa! Papa! I found a snail’. She beamed up at him as she exhibited her prize discovery, jealously guarding it from the attentions of her brother and cousins. He swept her into his lap, complete with snail, and jiggled her on his knee, making her giggle.
‘Did Clarence catch you?’ Zach asked Frankie.
‘Yes. What did he want? I couldn’t get him to say, or to stay for that matter. Some deadly important matter of national security, I presume, that will be beyond my feeble understanding…’
‘Feeble?’ Zach shared an amused smile with Amos.
‘Certainly feeble. The way you will insist upon being so protective certainly gives that impression. But we were discussing Clarence, and as usual you are trying to distract my curiosity. As I say, it must be something important, otherwise he wouldn’t have put himself out by coming here for such a short visit.’
‘He mentioned in passing that our new neighbour is one Jared Braden,’ Zach said casually, smiling at his dogs. Usually keen to romp with the children, they showed a marked disinclination to be pulled about in the hot weather and only reluctantly allowed themselves to be chased in a dilatory manner.
‘What do we know about him?’ Frankie asked, her eyes coming alight with interest. ‘A single gentleman who could purchase such a large estate and restore it must be well situated.’
‘Stop plotting the rest of the poor man’s life! We are not yet even acquainted with him. Besides, you don’t have any more relations to marry off,’ Zach said, pinching her cheek.
‘Why do you suppose that my innocent remark about his eligibility has anything to do with matrimony?’ Frankie asked indignantly.
Zach and Amos shared a look over her head, both aware that was precisely the turn her thoughts would have taken. It felt odd to find Frankie here alone at this time of day, Amos realised, thinking how seldom it was that she had time to herself; much as Zach couldn’t call his days his own. Their responsibilities were onerous and Amos gave renewed thanks not to have been the first-born son.
It seemed that the excessive heat had taken its toll on friends and relatives alike and everyone had the good sense to remain indoors and keep as cool as possible during daylight hours. On the rare occasions when there were no visitors at the Park, Crista had always sat with Frankie for family time, here in the shade on the terrace. It was the time of day when Amos missed her the most, apart from at night when he occupied his lonely bed and yearned for her with every fibre of his being. His bedchamber was the only place where he could allow his emotions free rein. The rest of the time he put on an act—for his children, for his siblings, for everyone who crossed his path—if only to stop them worrying about his emotional torment. He was more than capable of worrying about that himself with no additional help required.
‘I don’t know much about him,’ Zach said, tossing the ball that bounced on the terrace back to his elder son, Leo, who was destined one day to step into Zach’s shoes and become the next Duke of Winchester.
Amos’s son Josh got to the ball first and the boys, so close in age, had a friendly tussle for possession. Two more years and Leo and Josh would go off together to preparatory school. Amos vividly recalled his own concerns when he underwent that rite of passage—a mixture of anxiety, homesickness and a feeling of impending adulthood. Amos had had Zach there ahead of him to smooth his path. Leo and Josh would get to experience it together.
‘I expect he will leave his card, your Mr Braden,’ Frankie said, ‘and I look forward to making his acquaintance.’
‘We shall see,’ Zach replied, non-committedly.
‘Oh fustian, Zach! Of course we shall welcome our new neighbour. Whatever makes you think that we should not?’ She paused. ‘Ah, some clandestine concerns of Clarence’s, I suppose. Something vital to British interests.’ Frankie’s first husband had been a diplomat and she understood the nature of the service well, sharing Zach’s frustrations about the secrecy and the veils of diplomacy that often seemed excessive. ‘If he has served Clarence in some capacity then I am sure the poor man has had quite enough of all that cloak and dagger stuff and simply wants a quiet life in the country. But he will also require some society, and I aim to provide him with it.’
Amos chuckled, well aware that there was no stopping Frankie once she got an idea into her head. He didn’t envy Zach having to rein her in. He nodded his thanks to Frankie when she handed him a cool glass of lemonade.
‘It’s far too hot for tea,’ she explained.
Amos took a sip of his drink, listening to Zach and Frankie with half an ear as the laughter and enthusiasm of seven children—his three and Zach’s four—wrapped him in the warm embrace of family. The boys ran up to them at regular intervals, with endless questions and the occasional need to have disputes arbitrated. The latter took some ingenuity but proved to be endlessly amusing as the boys showed developing aspects of their respective characters on an almost daily basis. When all else failed, Leo pulled rank and reminded the others that he would one day be a duke so they all had to do what he said. His siblings and cousins remained singularly unimpressed and turned on him as one, chasing after him until he said he was sorry.
‘There’s no respect amongst the younger generation any more,’ Zach said, laughing because he probably remembered Amos and the others treating him just as dismissively when he got above himself.
