A Christmas Surprise Page 7

  “You rang, Your Grace?” Osgood said just inside the doorway, as he straightened from his bow.

  “Would you ask my son to attend me at his earliest convenience? I have several matters to discuss with him,” Kenneth said, as he tossed the finely penned request back on his desk.

  “Certainly, Your Grace.” He slipped out on his mission.

  With slow, measured purpose, the duke rose from behind his desk and started to pace his study as he waited for his only son and heir to arrive. He was glad for the invitation as this would be his first event back in society after a long year hidden away for the most part, except for the occasional but necessary trips to London, in the hills of northern England. The Duchess of Carlisle’s fêtes were known to be very popular and the accompanying note assured him this would only be a small gathering. And if things went as planned his son would be engaged to Carlisle’s daughter, even though neither knew of the other, so to speak. Thomas had played his card close to the chest in this battle of love and had found Lady Aleece not wanting but wanted.

  If past experience was any indicator, her small gathering would be a hundred, a number he knew he would be able to handle. Not only that, but the matchmaking mammas would be at the Holly Hall gala in the hopes of snagging a husband for their daughters.

  That, right now, was the last thing he needed. To be chased about and around the Kringle estate in the hopes of being caught in a compromising situation with some half-witted giggling ninnyhammer.

  A knock on the study door interrupted his thoughts. “Come.”

  The butler stepped in. “Your Grace, the Marquess of Langdonly.”

  The duke looked past the butler’s shoulder. “Osgood, I can see that, why don’t you just say Thomas, or your son?”

  Thomas stepped up beside the flustered butler. “That’s all right. Any time you want to announce me formally is fine. Don’t let my Da’s blustering stop you.”

  “Son, do not encourage him.”

  Kenneth noticed the noncommittal shrug Thomas gave as he walked in, only a slight limp was present.

  “It seems all the horseback riding you have been doing is helping to strengthen the leg. I am glad to see that. For I was worried after your last venture to London. At first, I thought you might have gone against the doctor’s orders and attempted a dance or two.”

  “Yes. I am pleased with the progress I’ve been able to make. The cold of winter seems to help also, and no it was the carriage ride home which stiffened the leg,” Thomas commented while he walked slowly to the tantalus. “Anything, Father?” he asked over his shoulder.

  After accepting a glass of brandy from his son, Kenneth waved him to the chair in front of the desk. “Now that you are better able to get around and not so self-conscious, how do you feel about stepping out into society finally? Do not forget, you never were introduced to the ton as you are entitled. Maybe, if you find one that suits, a wife even.”

  “Father, if you are talking about the crush at the annual holiday ball then I will have to pass. Once the women, and we both know to whom I refer, learn of my presence there, I fear I would be safer returning to Spain to fight the French. At least the frogs have a sense of honor.”

  Surprised at his son’s honest answer, the duke came close to spilling his drink when he burst out in laughter. He hadn’t yet recollected himself when, through tear-filled eyes from laughing so hard, he witnessed the study door rip open and in charged Osgood and two footmen.

  “Is everything all right, Your Grace?”

  “Yes, thank you for responding so rapidly, Osgood, but I seem to have said something which my father thought to be entertaining,” Thomas announced to the assembled staff, having risen from his chair when the room was invaded.

  Once the duke was able to get a modicum of control, he waved the staff out with his thanks for a speedy but unnecessary response.

  “Well then, how about a little fête the Duchess of Carlisle is throwing together for the holiday?”

  When he noticed the puzzled look on Thomas’s face, he stepped in. “Of course you might not know her or her husband, but they are dear old friends. I stood up beside Simon when he married his duchess. And when you came down from university you went right into the Guards, so you never got to spend time with the ton. Rest assured the affair will be just the thing for both of us.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Ah yes. I imagine you would not. You see, except for the occasional much needed visits to the City, I have stayed here while in mourning.” He raised a stilling hand when Thomas was about to interrupt.

  “Yes, I know after I came out of deep mourning, if I chose to attend a ball or such I could have. Because of my love for your mother, I chose not to. More out of respect for her memory than anything.”

  “So, if I understand, we’ll be making our entrance together into society.” Thomas raked his fingers through his hair. In doing so, he remembered the last time his love had done the same. The thought awaken a deep-seated need to hold her in his arms again. Even if only for the briefest of moments.

  “Son, if you are worried about dancing, I am sure you can easily beg off.”

  “It’s not that, Father. I posted a letter in reply the other day to several friends from my old regiment. They will only be in London for a few days before going to their respective estates. If it’s all right with you I can meet you at Carlisle’s no later than the twenty-fourth.”

  Kenneth took a deep breath and looked his son right in the eye. “Is that the only reason for going? Are you sure there is not a pretty young chit that has caught your fancy?”

  “As much as I would love to say there is, I’m sorry to tell you no. Yes, I know over the past six months I have traveled to London frequently, but it was either to see the regimental surgeon in residence or at your behest to handle some of the ducal affairs, don’t forget.”

  The duke leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin in thought. After a moment he nodded. “Yes, I’m sorry. You are correct. I do not see anything wrong with your schedule. I will pen a note to the duchess that we will both attend, but due to a previous engagement, you will not be able to arrive until the day before Christmas.”

  “Thank you, Father. Now, if you don’t mind, I will take my leave. I believe the stable master has my mount ready for a ride.”

  “Yes, yes. You had better go. The last thing I want or need is to have that man mad at me,” he grumbled.

  “You don’t have to say anything further. For some reason he thinks all the horses are his and his alone and we are lucky to be allowed to use them.”

  “I still don’t know why I keep that man on. Should have sacked him years ago. But, go,” the duke said with a wave of his hand.

  Once he was again alone with his thoughts, the duke withdrew several sheets of parchment from the desk drawer. The first was to the Duchess of Carlisle to inform her of his and Thomas’ acceptance to the party. As a postscript he noted that his son would be traveling separately and his projected arrival date.

  The other, much less formal, was to the duke.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As Thomas arrived at the stables, one of the undergrooms was starting to unsaddle his mount. “Ho there. Here I am,” he called out to the young lad as he entered the stable yard.

  “And you’re late,” the gruff voice of Jonesy, the stable master, called out from the nearby barn. “Boy, continue with what I ordered,” he said as he stepped out into the sun.

  Thomas wanted to interfere but knew, at this point, it would be pointless, so he did the next best thing. “Jonesy, I am sorry. His Grace needed to see me about a matter of great import.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of the meeting, but that’s still no excuse for allowing your mount to stand about,” the stable master turned his head and laid eyes on Trooper, Thomas’s mount. “Or not letting someone know.”

  The two men watched as the horse was led back into his stall.

  “And before you say anything, Jonesy, I know why
you did that.”

  “And that is,” the man said, crossing his arms over his chest, a scowl on his face.

  “Even though he is a horse, who happened to save my life last year, I still have to treat him with the same respect I show the farmers and staff at my estate.”

  “And who taught you that?” Jonesy replied with a smug grin.

  Thomas hung his head, embarrassed. “You, your father, and my father instilled respect for everyone in me.” He raised his head, meeting the man eye to eye. “Now, if you will excuse me I have a horse that needs a grooming. If I know him, as soon as he returned to his stall he rolled and is dirty.”

  “Then go ahead and saddle him and I’ll meet you out here in ten minutes so we can give your legs some exercise.”

  Eleven minutes later, in a comfortable silence, the two men, astride their respective horses, walked out from the cobblestoned stable yard. Once on one of the many trails that crisscrossed the estate, they let the mounts advance to a trot. A nod from Thomas sent them into a slow but ground covering canter.

  As they rounded a curve, up ahead Thomas saw the first of several jumps. With the practiced eye of a skilled horseman, he easily evaluated the object only to find something was different this time. Not only was it a rail higher than three days ago but the spread had increased by a good foot.

  Quickly, he readjusted the speed of his approach and where he’d signal Trooper to launch. Once clear of the hurdle he slowed and waited for Jonesy to ride up beside him. “Nice little change with the jump. I see you are still up to your old tricks.”

  “Just keeping you on your toes, m’ lord. Wouldn’t want you to become self-satisfied. Don’t forget—”

  “Yes, I know,” Thomas interrupted. “Riding or driving a horse is like life. You never know what you will find around the next bend in the road.”

  Jonesy nodded, a twinkle in his eye told Thomas he meant something else also. “Out with it, you old reprobate. I can tell when you have something going on in that devious mind of yours.”

  “Only that, when do you plan on telling the young lady you’ve been keeping company with and writing to exactly who you are? That’s all.”

  “If I had a choice, which you know I do not. Never. I want to love her and her love me not for what I will become but for who I am. A man first. The son of a duke second.” Not wanting to continue the discussion any further, he tapped his booted heels to Troopers sides, who broke immediately into a gallop and headed off to see what other obstacles were in store for him.

  After an hour’s hard riding, Thomas groomed Trooper then limped to the house, entering through the kitchen. The fragrances of baking bread, spit roasting beef and other delicious odors assailed his nostrils. With a fresh-from-the-oven scone in his hand, he beat a hasty retreat, steps ahead of Cook and her ladle.

  His next stop, a hot bath to ease the muscles and salve for the wound.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After one long day and part of a second, Thomas rode into the courtyard of the Hen and Rooster. From all reports, the only respectable lodgings in the district.

  If there was one thing he’d learned fighting under The Earl of Wellington it was to always be prepared, and that he was. The day he’d posted his last letter to Aleece, telling of his arrival, he also sent one to secure a roof over his head and a stall for Trooper.

  As he dismounted, a young boy no more than nine or ten, stepped from the stables. “Here you go, son, make sure you give him a good walk to cool him down then unsaddle him. I’ll be down shortly to brush him out.”

  Thomas reached into the pocket on his vest and tossed the lad a coin. He wanted to chuckle when he saw the boy look at him with wide eyes.

  “Ah… are you sure, m’ lord? I gots me a good way wit ‘orses. I can do that for ye,” the boy stammered out.

  “No, son, but I thank you for the offer. I was taught from even younger than you to look after my horse and he will care for me.” Thomas turned back to his horse, untied the saddlebags, and slung them over his shoulder. After a step toward the lodging, he stopped and looked back to the lad. “Tell you what. You can watch while I give Trooper a grooming, and you tell me if I do a good job. For that you will earn another coin.”

  “Aye, m’ lord, that I can do for ye.”

  As Thomas sauntered into the tap room, he glanced around, looking for the proprietor. Spying an elderly man wiping down the bartop, he knew the search was over.

  The individual appeared old beyond his years, most likely from working dawn until late into the night. As Thomas approached, he easily saw the man’s eyes shining with pride at the care he took in maintaining his establishment. The kind of pride one took in knowing they had the best lodging for miles. The clothes appeared simple but highly functional, a collarless striped top, which had seen better days was covered by an unbuttoned woolen vest. The bottom of the shirt in turn was tucked haphazardly into a pair of dark worker pants. None of the outfit was much different than what he had in the saddlebag. Clothes which shortly he’d change in to, to take care of his mount.

  With a confident smile, he approached the man. “Sir, are you the owner of this fine establishment?”

  The man stopped what he was doing, returned the smile, and nodded. “Yes, I am m’ lord. You can call me Jacob. You wouldn’t perchance be Mr. Thomas would ye?”

  “Yes, I am.” Thomas retrieved a piece of foolscap from the inside pocket of his dark gray triple layered cape. “I have your reply to the availability of your best room.”

  “Fear not, kind sir. The room requested is available. I made sure o dat,” Jacob said as he reached under the bar and brought out a journal looking book. “If ye’ll be so kind as to sign the register, I’ll have Sophie, she bein’ me wif, show ya to your room.”

  “Thank you, kind sir,” Thomas uttered. This, the way a peer treated those of the lower class, was one of his father’s lessons. Treat them with respect and it shall be returned.

  From under his brows, he watched as Jacob disappeared into what Thomas could only assume, from the fragrant smells, to be the kitchen. Moments later he returned with his wife trailing. At first appearances, Sophie didn’t seem pleased at being disturbed, Thomas ascertained from preparing the evening meal. This fact was easily confirmed by the large wooden spoon she gripped as if it was the scepter from the Crown Jewels.

  “Kind sir, madam, if you will point the way, I am sure I can locate my quarters without a problem. It’s plain to see, sir, your lovely wife is preparing a fine repast of which I will gladly partake later.”

  Thomas wasn’t surprised when Sophie blushed and Jacob looked wide-eyed at him.

  “If you’re sure, m’ lord. Take the stairs up to the first floor then left down to the end of the hall. Your room will be right in front of you,” Jacob replied, handing over the key. “Will you be requiring anything else?”

  Thomas stopped with a Hessian-booted foot on the bottom stair. “Ah, yes. Later I’ll require hot water and tub to bathe. I will let you know when, so don’t wait. Continue with your doings.”

  A short time later, dressed in similar but of better cloth and stitching than Jacob's, Thomas descended the stairs. In his hand he carried a wide brimmed hat, partially as protection from the cold, but primarily to help shield his face from the curious.

  He glanced over to the bar where Jacob was drafting a pint for a local farmer when a sound caught his attention. The all too familiar ringing of alarm bells forced him to quicken his pace. He started to speak when Jacob cut him off.

  ****

  Lady Aleece and Debbi, her riding escort since they were staying on the ducal estate, halted their mounts as they crested a knoll at the far end of the estate.

  Considering the season, Aleece had chosen a heavy dark red riding habit with an ermine collared cape to ward off the chill. Debbi was in a forest green outfit with beaver fur on the collar of her cloak.

  They both knew this was very unusual, for a lady’s maid to accompany her mistress while rid
ing. Then again, their relationship was anything but normal. Being the only child of the Duke and Duchess of Carlisle, Aleece had had to find play companions when and where she could.

  Debbi, the same age as Aleece, had been the perfect choice, as she didn’t have anyone near her age to play with. So, with the duchess’s blessing, they grew up together and in the process grew together. To where now she was Aleece’s most valued confidant in all things, especially affairs of the heart.

  As they sat looking out over the land, a breeze stirred the manes of both mares, sending a chill to Aleece. “I think we should be heading back soon. I don’t know about you but the wind is starting to increase and,” she lifted her eyes to the sky, “it would appear that we might be in for more snow.”

  She twisted a little so she could hear what the soft-voiced Debbi’s reply would be.

  “Yes, m’ lady. You’re right. I’m beginning to lose the feeling in my toes.”

  Before they could turn their mounts back toward home, another stiff breeze, this time from a different direction, hit them. With it came the unmistakable smell of smoke and not from a fire contained in a fireplace but that of a building on fire. In silence Aleece scanned the area looking for the cause. She knew wherever the smoke was coming from could and would mean disaster to some family. Finally, about a mile from them, she watched as a column of the dreaded news rose skyward.

  Aleece could feel panic hit her as he stomach clenched in fear for the family where the fire was. “Debbi, race back to the house and alert my father. It appears to be the Smyth’s house. He’ll know what to do.”

  “But, Aleece, what are you going to do?”

  “Debbi, you are a much faster rider than I am. Time is of the essence, and we are too far from home for me to risk the ride. I am going to the farm to see if I can be of some assistance. Now go.” Her last words an order and said with the strength not to brook any argument.