Читать книгу Regency Rogues: A Winter's Night: The Winterley Scandal / The Governess Heiress - Elizabeth Beacon - Страница 17

It took Colm another week to pack up the Derneley Library. With a sigh of relief he bade farewell to the few staff still working at Derneley House and limped out into a foggy autumn morning. It was time to bid farewell to Mr Carter and he must learn to be a Hancourt again. Someone had to stop the Hancourt estates slipping into chaos and it might as well be him. It would give him something to do, but as Uncle Horace and Aunt Barbara were childless he’d best not get too comfortable. Lord Maurice Hancourt would dismiss his nephew the day he inherited the dukedom, so somehow Colm would have to save enough from his salary to be able to offer his sister a home if she needed one, so he hoped the current Duke would live a long and happy life.

Nell wouldn’t give up her post simply because he wanted her to, so perhaps he could suggest Uncle Horace needed her to stop his houses becoming dusty old book warehouses, because Aunt Barbara wasn’t going to worry about housekeeping when she had so much nature left to paint. Nell couldn’t claim she wasn’t needed then, but he could almost hear her argue she was needed where she was now, thank you very much. He smiled ruefully at the notion his sister was quite happy in her current post as governess to four orphaned girls and virtual mistress of Berry Brampton House. If the Earl of Barberry ever set foot in the place, a single lady with any regard for her reputation would have to leave it though; so Colm had best start saving, even if Barberry had sworn never to visit the estate his family begrudged him so deeply.

Ten minutes later Colm limped up the steps of Linaire House, still mulling over his schemes to get his sister away from her current employment. The butler looked outraged when he limped up the front steps and coldly informed him servants used the rear entrance.

‘I am expected. Mr Hancourt,’ he informed the man with the cold authority he’d used on soldiers who thought him too young to be obeyed, but this man was made of sterner stuff.

‘So you say,’ the butler said with a regal sniff and a contemptuous look at Colm’s shabby garb and the battered portmanteau he was carrying himself.

‘My uncle is eager to have me supervise the unpacking and arranging of the Derneley Library. I wouldn’t like to be the one who delayed that project,’ he said and made as if to leave, even if he had no idea where he would go.

‘His Grace did say he was expecting a member of the family,’ the man said dubiously, but at least Colm was allowed inside so his tall story could be examined.

Hearing voices, the Duke of Linaire emerged from his study. A smile lit his rather homely face and he hurried forward to make Colm feel more welcome here than he ever was as a child. ‘Colm, my boy, how glad I am to see you at last. D’you know the bookbinder says he can’t find that exact shade of Moroccan leather to replace the damaged covers?’ the Duke of Linaire asked as if his nephew was so much a part of his life he didn’t need to explain him to his staff.

‘Let the boy settle in before you put him to work again, Horry.’ Aunt Barbara emerged from the study behind him and greeted Colm with a kiss and a quick hug that made him blink and return it with a feeling he wasn’t as alone as he’d thought. ‘Not that I’m not delighted to see you as well, dear. Your uncle has been longing for a sympathetic ear to pour his tale of woe into all morning and I would dearly like to get some of this mist and murk in my sketchbook before the sun breaks through. So you are doubly welcome.’

Colm cast a look at the dreary townscape outside and raised an eyebrow at the unconventional Duchess to say there was little chance of that happening quickly.

‘It seems unlikely now, but I don’t have much interest in old books at the best of times and I’d forgotten how unreal London looks in the fog,’ she admitted with a longing glance out of the window. Colm wondered once again how two people with such different interests could be so devoted to one another. ‘That’s enough of our woes, have you breakfasted, my boy?’ she added, although it was nearly noon.

‘Some time ago, Auntie dear,’ he told her with a grin and she just smiled placidly and told him not to be disrespectful to his poor old aunt. Since his late Uncle Augustus once had him beaten for just speaking in his presence, this was a vast improvement on his last stay at Linaire House already.

‘Then go on up and settle yourself in before your uncle puts you to work. He forgets how ill you were this summer and will answer to me and your sister Nell if he wears you out with his wrong shades of leather and the best way to arrange his musty old books. Then there’s whatever real business you must sort out for us.’

‘This is real business,’ Uncle Horace protested, but shot Colm a concerned look and told him unpacking the undamaged books could wait until tomorrow.

Not quite sure he wanted a day of leisure when his thoughts were still so full of Winterleys, Colm went upstairs to unpack his bag before his uncle’s valet could do it for him, then went downstairs again to find his uncle and see if he had forgotten he had given him the day off yet.

‘Glad you’re here at last, m’boy,’ the Duke of Linaire muttered vaguely.

‘It’s good to be back. Is all well with the books I sent on?’

‘Yes, yes, you did a good job. High time someone rescued that fine collection from Derneley, but I should never have sent you there. Barbara says I should be ashamed of myself for making you keep that disguise you’ve worn for so long.’

‘Lord Derneley didn’t look directly at me once he realised I was wounded at Waterloo and have the scars to prove it. I doubt he’d recognise Carter as your nephew if we happen to meet by chance.’

‘Hah! Man’s a buffoon; doesn’t deserve what you and the other brave lads did to keep him safe in his bed. Not that it will be his bed for much longer if the rumours are true.’

Colm doubted it was officially his right now, but he didn’t want to think about that selfish peer or his empty-headed lady any more. ‘He certainly doesn’t know how to treat fine books. Some are nearly beyond repair.’

His Grace shook his greying head and looked pained. ‘I read your lists as they came in and warned the bookbinders what to expect. Disgraceful, that’s what it is and I had a good mind to drop my price to compensate for all the work that will have to be done in order to get them back to scratch.’

‘I suspect your money is already spent.’

‘Aye, and I shook hands on the deal; Barbara says she’s coming with me if I negotiate for more than a child’s primer from now on, but my word is my bond and I can’t go back on it, can I?’

‘No, even if your money goes the same way as the rest,’ Colm replied and his uncle’s one extravagance was dwarfed by Derneley’s complete set.

‘At least those fine volumes are safe now and I can’t wait to see them set out in good order in their new home. Barbara says I must wait for the plasterers and carpenters to finish before I ship any back to Linaire, though.’

When someone managed to distract the Duchess from her paints for the odd hour she was one of the most rational women Colm had come across. He didn’t blame her for refusing to give up the joy and purpose of her life to run the vast houses her husband had inherited last year. If he had a wife himself, he wouldn’t want her to give up her interests to devote herself to him either. Not that he could afford one, but his aunt and uncle’s marriage was bigger than the usual society match and no wonder they sacrificed so much to make it happen. How wrong to visualise the wife he couldn’t have as dark haired and possessed of a pair of fine green-blue eyes and the warmly irresistible smile Miss Winterley saved for best. She wouldn’t have him if he had stayed the rich grandson of a duke instead of a barely solvent ex-army officer and it was high time he forgot her.

‘Nearly forgot to give you this, Colm.’ His uncle interrupted his thoughts, offering him a tightly sealed letter. ‘Farenze’s man brought it here with your real name on. Thought you wouldn’t want it sent on to Derneley House.’

‘No indeed, thank you,’ he replied as he eyed the crisply folded letter with his lordship’s seal stamped emphatically in the wax and wondered how he’d given himself away. Did he look like his father? Colm wondered, a little bit horrified by the idea and it was too long since he last saw him to know. The Derneleys hadn’t seen through Mr Carter’s plain old clothes to Lord Chris’s son underneath so perhaps he didn’t, but they would never truly look at a servant. A shrewd man like the Viscount might have seen Hancourt traits in him, but the idea felt disturbing.

‘Do you mind if I read this right away, your Grace?’

‘No more of that, lad. Be obliged if you’d call me Uncle Horace. When someone your Graces me, I still think they’re talking to my father or Gus. Makes me shudder if you want the truth.’

‘Me, too,’ Colm admitted.

‘Both tyrants, but they’re dead now,’ said the Sixth Duke with a furtive look round as if to make sure. ‘Had the devil of a job persuading Barbara to marry me because of them and she’s been the making of me. You should find yourself a fine girl with a mind of her own to make you happy after all you went through in Spain and Belgium.’

‘I doubt if I could persuade her to see past my father’s scandal and my empty pockets.’

‘Nonsense, a lady of character will see what a fine fellow you are and never mind the rest.’

The only lady of character he wanted to know that dearly was uniquely designed not to be able to see past who he was, so Colm shook his head, then turned Lord Farenze’s letter over as if that might tell him what the man had to say to Lord Chris’s son without him having to open it. Stay away from my daughter you lying rogue? His heart sank at the idea she knew who he really was and still played the game of pretending he was Carter. Had she and Miss Revereux laughed together about his credulity after their misadventure? Stop torturing yourself and read the confounded thing, his inner officer ordered impatiently.

‘Go and read it before you wear it out, lad. Oh, and your Aunt Barbara has sent for a tailor; he’s to wait on you today so he’ll probably be here soon. Don’t argue, my boy, Barb says she can’t endure dining with a nephew dressed like a curate much more than a week. The man’s to send his bill to me, so don’t argue about that either. Consider it a uniform if you won’t accept it as a gift to my nephew.’

‘I had to pay for my uniform,’ Colm objected half-heartedly.

‘Then take a few decent clothes in the spirit we offer them,’ his uncle said wearily. ‘Dashed if I ever came across anyone as poker-backed as you are.

‘Thank you then, it will be a relief not to worry about paying my tailor,’ Colm said and wished it was really a joke as he wandered upstairs, past his bedchamber and the chance of meeting that tailor before he’d had chance to put Mr Hancourt back together, then up more stairs to the bare rooms where the last Duke grudgingly housed him and Nell until they were old enough for school.

It looked the same as ever; no need to make it bright and comfortable for children his uncle and aunt didn’t have. Colm wondered fleetingly if he might be Duke of Linaire himself one day if Uncle Maurice’s wife kept producing daughters. It wasn’t a prospect he relished, even if he and Nell would have half a dozen old-fashioned homes to choose from. He liked the Duke and the Duchess and would rather have the modest house and a wife to make it a home he had dreamed of when trying to sleep on a bare mountainside or as he and his men were waiting for battle.

Colm went to the governess’s desk and extracted a penknife to slip under Lord Farenze’s seal. He should have known the man was too shrewd to take anyone at face value, but what did the Viscount want? He’d best read the letter instead of staring at it as if it might bite. Addressed in a bold, impatient hand, it was a masterpiece of distant politeness. They had matters to discuss arising from certain documents delivered to Lord Farenze. Since his lordship now knew who Colm was, they probably did as well. Tempted to wait until he had new clothes and looked a little more gentlemanly, Colm limped up to his room and wrote out an offer to call on his lordship tomorrow morning instead.