His Three-Day Duchess
‘Such as things that do not concern you, madam,’ Simon replied.
She gave a slight huff. She actually huffed at him before taking a step back and going to Mrs Thacker and Rimsby, probably to complain that some mere mister now had the title of Duke of Skeffington.
‘I do hope you and I can discuss your participation in Parliament further at your convenience,’ Lord Liverpool said, distracting Simon away from noticing how a few tendrils of her black hair brushed against the exposed skin of her pale neck.
It was apparent that Lord Liverpool would not let this matter rest. Simon had met men like this before. He would let him have his say and then he would continue doing what he wanted to anyway. It didn’t matter. He would not be in England long enough to have repeated visits by the Prime Minister. The Prime Minister of Great Britain. If all this wasn’t so annoyingly disruptive to his current excavation, he might have found it more amusing. As it was, he just wanted all of these details associated with his new title settled.
Lord Liverpool held out his hand and Simon clasped it firmly. ‘Until we meet again, Your Grace.’
Not having people address him by the name he had used his entire life was beginning to grate on his nerves. ‘Until we meet again, Lord Liverpool.’
Mr Mix, who Simon understood to be the old Duke’s secretary and had been managing the ducal properties since the old Duke had passed, went hurrying by on his way to the front door. He was the one man who Simon needed to speak with to settle all the details about his new title and estates. If anyone knew the condition that his estates were in, it would be Mr Mix. He would also know where the ledger books were kept so that Simon could finally see how much of a wealthy man he was. When he returned to England, Lord Liverpool had informed him by post that all debts had been settled and that there were funds remaining. The only question was, how substantial was the size of the fortune sitting in his bank account and just how profitable were those estates.
‘Mr Mix,’ Simon called out, walking towards the door to catch the small, thin man before he disappeared out into the midday sunshine.
The man stopped before stepping outside. He bowed respectfully, but his eyes kept darting towards the door as if he had somewhere to run off to.
Simon held out his hand. ‘I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Mr Mix. I understand you served as secretary for my predecessor?’
There was a slight hesitation before Mr Mix took his hand and gave it a firm shake. ‘That’s correct, Your Grace.’
‘Please, call me Simon. I’d like to arrange a meeting with you. I realise that you and I have no contract for employment, but I thought we might discuss the state of the old Duke’s affairs and perhaps we can come to an agreement for the future. And you need to come to my house to collect those snuffboxes the Duke has given you.’
Mr Mix offered him a polite smile that did not reach his eyes. ‘Of course, when should I call on you?’
‘If you have no appointments tomorrow, I think the morning would be best. I’m staying at the Pulteney Hotel on Piccadilly. I imagine we have many things to go over together.’
‘I imagine we do. Very well, Your Grace. I will see you then.’ He tipped his hat in a respectful manner and walked out the door.
Simon put on his own hat and turned to leave when the clear voice of the Duchess rang out in the entrance hall, stopping him in his tracks. He closed his eyes and gave a slight shake of his head before he turned around.
They were the only two people left in the unadorned hall and they stood only a few feet away from each other. She was close to his height, which was tall for a woman, and up close he could see her delicate features were rather scrunched up, as if she was trying to determine what to say to him.
‘Sir, I wish to have a word with you in private.’ She swallowed and looked back at the doorway that led to Mr Nesbit’s office as if she was concerned the man would come out and find them together. ‘Thank you for allowing me to remain in Skeffington House until the end of January. My man of affairs, Mr Sherman, notified me of your acceptance of our request this morning.’
‘My pleasure. I shall not be in England long so you may take the time you need to move to your new residence. Good day.’
He turned toward the door again, but once more her voice stopped him.
‘I have a proposition for you.’ The last statement was spoken in almost a whisper.
A proposition by a pretty woman—even one who was as trying as the Duchess of Skeffington—was something to consider. Simon turned back towards her and wondered what she could possibly want from him. ‘Go on.’
She cleared her throat. ‘I was wondering...that is to say...would you consider...?’
‘I am not one to couch my comments to please the world, Duchess. I do not get the impression you do either. What is it you want?’
‘I want Stonehaven.’ She said it clearly, although she was twisting the handle of her reticule as she made the statement. ‘That is to say, I would like to know if you would be willing to exchange Clivemoore for it?’
He hadn’t had the time to review each of his houses. How could he possibly give up one before he knew anything about it? And if the Duchess of Skeffington wanted that one so badly, it had to be worth something.
‘Why do you want the house?’
‘Sentimental reasons.’
‘You and your husband spent lovely weeks there and it holds good memories?’
‘No. I simply prefer that property above the others. If you are leaving England as you say you are, then it should not matter to you which house I get.’
There had to be more to it than that. He had met fortune hunters like her before in his life. Hell, he had been tossed aside by a few. If he had to wager, he would put money on the notion that Stonehaven provided more of an income than Clivemoore.
‘Ah, but your husband had a reason not to put you there. I am simply adhering to his wishes.’
‘And what about my wishes? I’m still alive. He is dead.’
Without meaning to, he let out a low laugh. Her very direct nature was comical.
‘Yes, well, it’s quite obvious you are still alive and the reason I am here is because your husband is dead... How did he die, by the way? I never thought to enquire before now.’
‘A chicken bone...he choked on a chicken bone one night at dinner.’
‘You’re sure it wasn’t poison?’
‘Poison? Of course I’m sure it wasn’t poison.’ A look of comprehension crossed her face before she put her hands on her hips. ‘Are you insinuating I poisoned my husband?’
‘You do seem very interested in that house. And as you stated, you’re alive and he’s dead.’ Simon tried to say it with a straight face, but he wasn’t successful.
‘You are an odious man, Mr Alexander.’
‘That may be true, but I am an odious man in possession of...what was the name of the estate again? Oh, yes, Rockhaven.’
‘Stonehaven,’ she corrected him through her teeth.
‘I don’t see a difference,’ he replied simply to annoy her. ‘Stones and rocks are the same thing. Perhaps I’ll change the name.’
The Duchess began to tug her purple-silk glove up. Her emerald and gold bracelet caught his eye as the sunlight glinted off it from the fanlight over the door.
‘I see you have no intention of taking my request seriously. I do believe we have nothing more to say to one another. I bid you a good day and wish you horrible weather on your journey back to whatever country has the misfortune of hosting you in the future.’
She raised her chin and sailed past him towards the front door and, thankfully, out of his life for ever.
Chapter One
Dorset—five months later
Since she was seventeen, Stonehaven had been a refuge for Lizzy from her horrible marriage. It was the one place she knew she could periodically escape to where she would be free of her husband’s temper and critical remarks. And for the last twelve years she had spent Christmas there with just her sisters and her Aunt Clara. It had been their tradition—the one time of year she was surrounded by the only people who loved her.
Now both of her sisters were married and spending Christmas at the country estate of the Duke of Winterbourne. She had lasted three days on that estate. Long enough to see her sister Juliet married and to endure watching the loving looks her sister Charlotte was receiving from her new husband, Lord Andrew Pearce, the younger brother of the Duke of Winterbourne. That visit was a painful reminder that she would not be sharing the same type of future as her sisters. She was not one of those women who were destined to find love. The reality of her situation stung and she knew she needed the comfort and familiarity of Stonehaven. And she was not going to let something as tedious as her late husband’s will stop her from being there.
As her shiny black-lacquered carriage with the Skeffington crest rolled along the snow-covered road past pale stone houses with smoking chimneys, Lizzy peered out the window and realised how much she had missed the local landscape.
Across from her, signs of apprehension creased Aunt Clara’s brow once more. ‘Perhaps you should have sent a note to Mrs Moggs and notified her that we would be arriving. I can’t imagine that she has ordered the kind of food we are accustomed to having during the holiday for just herself and the staff.’
Lizzy let the black curtain fall from her hand and she met her aunt’s troubled gaze. The staff would be aware that the house was now in the possession of her late husband’s heir and that he had not given her licence to use it. There was no telling what kind of reaction she would receive if they knew she was arriving in advance. Hopefully, the element of surprise would be to her advantage.
‘I’m sure we will have to make certain adjustments and our rooms will not be freshly aired and ready when we arrive, but I assure you I can have Mrs Moggs send someone into town and pick up anything we need to enjoy our usual Twelfth Night celebrations.’ It wouldn’t feel the same without her sisters, but she was grateful her aunt had said she didn’t want Lizzy to spend the holiday alone at Stonehaven and asked to accompany her.
‘And you are certain he will not be there?’
‘For the third time, the last I heard, Mr Alexander is still abroad. All will be well, I assure you. He will never even know we took up residence for a fortnight.’
‘You are going to be placing those servants in an awkward position. We still could finish the holiday in my home in Bath. It is not too far away.’
‘We have spent Christmas at Stonehaven for years. Fear not, I will take all the blame should the new Duke find out we were in residence. He can chastise me all he wants when he sends me a letter.’ Lizzy pushed the curtain aside once more and tried to determine where they were. ‘We have just passed the church in the village. It won’t be long now.’
The large Georgian house came into view after they rounded a rather narrow bend in the road. The late afternoon sun was making the pale rectangular stones appear more orange than beige. As Lizzy looked down to tie the string of her reticule, she missed noting there was smoke curling out of a number of chimneys, visible against the clear blue sky—more chimneys than were necessary for the number of servants residing in the house.
The carriage rocked to a stop and the step was lowered. In the past, a footman had always been stationed in the entrance hall awaiting their arrival. This year, when so much of her life had changed, with the death of her husband and the marriages of both her sisters, the closed black door was making her feel like a stranger in the one place she had felt the most at home. She raised her chin and marched to the front door with her boots crunching in the snow, determined to push her feelings of sadness and unease out of her mind.
The door opened just as she grabbed the ring of the doorknocker and she almost fell forward with the movement of the large wooden door. She might have landed on the polished marble floor if it wasn’t for the quick grasp of her former butler, who was staring down at her with a startled expression that probably matched her own.
As if he had just realised he was holding his former employer in his arms, Simpkins quickly dropped his hands and took a step back. ‘Your Grace!’ It was an exclamation as much as a question and he glanced back to the corridor behind him that led to the private rooms of the house.
‘Hello, Simpkins. You are looking well.’ Or as well as a man could who looked as if he had seen a ghost.
‘Thank you, madam. I... I... I wasn’t expecting you.’
‘I imagine you were not,’ Lizzy said, untying her bonnet. ‘But as you can see, my aunt and I have decided to spend our Twelfth Night celebration here at Stonehaven.’
‘You have?’
‘Yes. I realise I should have sent word that we were coming so that you and Mrs Moggs could have the house and staff in order. However, I just decided yesterday that there was no sense breaking this tradition since we have spent our holidays here since I became the Duchess.’
She handed her bonnet to Simpkins, who took it reluctantly, and then went to work quickly on the buttons of her black pelisse. If she could manage to plough through getting settled here, remaining for a fortnight should be easy. Before he had a chance to say anything, Lizzy continued. ‘Now, it has been a rather tiring journey and it’s rather cold out. Please see that a tea tray is brought to us in the Gold Drawing Room. We will wait there while you instruct a footman to remove the furniture covers and start a fire in the hearth. And I’ll need to speak with Mrs Moggs. While there are only two of us staying here this year, I would like to plan a menu out with her for our stay.’
His eyes widened as Aunt Clara draped her cloak over his arm that was now serving as a coat rack for Lizzy’s pelisse. ‘Your stay? That is to say—’
‘I understand you were not prepared for our arrival. I realise it will take time to make the house ready for us. Do not fret. We are patient women and are prepared to endure a cold room and some discomfort until everything is arranged.’
But as she walked towards the back corridor she suddenly caught the distinct smell of meat roasting and turned a questioning eye to her former butler. His wide eyes shifted from her to an area past her shoulder.
‘How very kind of you to inform Simpkins that you are willing to endure some discomfort, but I think it bears noting that he is no longer your butler, but mine.’
Blast it! The man was supposed to be in Sicily. Why was he not in Sicily?
Lizzy turned to face him and was taken aback at the sight of Mr Alexander wearing an unbuttoned blue-quilted banyan, black trousers, shiny black shoes, a black waistcoat and a crisp white shirt. He was missing his cravat, and his smooth neck and the slight dusting of hair near the opening of his shirt had her transfixed. It was proving impossible to look away and it wasn’t until he cleared his throat that she met him in the eye.
‘Simpkins had no idea my aunt and I were coming here.’ Thank heavens it was stated without the slightest crack in her voice.
‘I think that is quite obvious.’ He walked to Simpkins and motioned with his hands for the outer garments the butler was still holding. ‘I’ll take those and see to these unexpected visitors.’ After he took the pelisse and cloak from the man, he turned back to Lizzy. ‘It was kind of you to drop in on your way to wherever it is you are going, but as you can see from my attire, I’m not receiving callers at this time.’
At the mention of his attire, it occurred to Lizzy that Mr Alexander was the only man outside her late husband that she had seen in such a state of undress and he looked far better in his banyan than the old Duke had ever looked in his.
‘Duchess, did you hear me?’
‘I heard you,’ she replied, shifting her gaze away from his exposed neck once again and up to his eyes. ‘We weren’t exactly calling on you. Not in a formal way.’
‘Well, I am not receiving callers in an informal way either. Now, be so kind as to take your things. Good day, ladies.’
Lizzy wasn’t going to be so easily swayed from remaining at Stonehaven. If there was a way she could get him to leave the estate and agree to allow her to stay for the holiday, it would save what was left of a very trying year.
‘Forgive me,’ she said, giving him a bright smile. ‘I have not had the opportunity to introduce you to my aunt. This is Mrs Sommersby,’ she said, gesturing to Aunt Clara. ‘We have spent the holidays together since I was a child—and the last twelve of them we have spent here.’
He gave Aunt Clara a respectful bow. ‘I am charmed,’ he replied rather smoothly, earning him a smile from her aunt.
But when he turned back to Lizzy, his polite demeanour was put aside. He stepped up to her and held out her pelisse. ‘Well, now you can say that you have spent some time here this year, as well. I was kind enough to agree that you could stay in my London residence until the end of January since I had no need for it. I will not be granting you permission to stay in any of my other homes, including this one.’
The emphasis was not lost on her and she felt her demeanour souring. ‘I heard you were somewhere in Sicily.’
‘As you can see, I have returned. I needed to be back here by Christmas.’
‘Why?’
‘You ask a lot of questions for someone who was caught trying to take up residence in a house that does not belong to you.’
‘It should have belonged to me. This should have been my house.’ The anger at her late husband was resurfacing.
‘But it’s not, though, is it? It is my house and because of that you have no right to order my servants about or to stay here without an invitation. And based on all those trunks that are being unloaded in the drive, it appears you were planning on staying here for quite some time.’
‘A fortnight...just a fortnight.’
His eyes widened. ‘All those trunks are for a fortnight?’
‘There are two of us and our maids who have been travelling in my aunt’s carriage.’
‘That is still a substantial number of trunks for a fortnight.’
‘We are not coming from home and one can never have too many dresses when travelling. There are times you find yourself in unusual situations and you need to be prepared with the perfect ensemble.’
‘I see. Well, this certainly is an unusual situation. I’ve never had to throw a woman out of my house before.’
His house? This was more her house than his! She had decorated it. She’d had the gardens restored. This was her sanctuary. It held no meaning to him. She raised her chin. ‘You wouldn’t throw me out.’
‘Not if you leave peacefully,’ he said slowly. ‘If you resist, you will leave me no choice.’ He took a step towards her. Now she was even closer to the exposed skin of that neck of his. The very masculine force of his presence made her insides do a funny flip.
How could he not feel a bit of sympathy for her? She placed her hands on her hips, preparing to argue to make him understand.
Aunt Clara stepped in front of Lizzy and looked up at Mr Alexander. ‘Perhaps you would be so kind, Your Grace, as to allow us to please remain a bit longer to warm our bones and imbibe a cup of tea to warm our souls. Certainly you can see it’s a rather blustery day to be rolling through the countryside.’
There was a hesitation on his part before he gave Aunt Clara a polite smile. ‘Then one might have been advised not to venture out on such a day as this.’
How could he refuse a polite request from her aunt? Lizzy could see the woman was oozing every ounce of sweetness she possessed. Certainly, this man was cold-hearted and callous if he intended to throw them out into the cold.
She needed to take matters into her own hands. She was a duchess! Lizzy stepped from behind her aunt and tipped up her chin. ‘After the long journey we have had, you truly expect us to continue on our way without so much as a warm cup of tea? Why, we have travelled all the way from—’
He held up his hand, indicating he had no desire for her to continue. With a sigh, he let his gaze move between the two women. ‘If I agree to arrange tea for you, will you agree to leave peacefully when you are finished?’
Lizzy pushed back her shoulders. ‘Peacefully? Sir, we have not arrived at this door with pitchforks in hand.’
‘No, just enough clothing to set up every woman in this village quite nicely for the next few years.’
She stared into his dark brown eyes to make her point plain. ‘Sir, I find the more I am in your presence the less I enjoy your company. It will be my pleasure to place miles between us once we are finished with our tea.’
And if she could find a way with her aunt’s help to make him create that distance between them by his wanting to leave Stonehaven first, it would be all the better.
Chapter Two
Simon led them to what the servants called the Gold Drawing Room, holding the pelisse and cloak of the two women trailing behind him. He wasn’t about to risk having the garments stashed away by a footman. Their presence on a sofa in the room where the ladies were to have their tea would be a sharp reminder they would have to leave soon. He was well aware it wasn’t a very proper thing to do, but it would be effective.
Upon crossing the threshold, he heard an audible gasp behind him. He held in his satisfied smile and hoped it was the Duchess, and not her aunt, who had uttered it. Shocking her into realising this was no longer her home was his purpose for bringing them to this particular room to have their tea. It wasn’t because he had felt compelled to honour her request to his butler when she barged into his home.
‘What did you do to the Gold Drawing Room?’ Her astonishment was apparent in her voice.
He turned to find her scanning the room with wide eyes as her aunt settled herself on the pale green sofa by the fire.
‘I changed it,’ he stated plainly.
‘I see that. Why? Why would you do that?’
‘Because this happens to be one of my favourite rooms in the house and I prefer the classical style.’
‘It is mine, as well, or it was before you altered it.’
‘I enjoy the view of the gardens and spend a considerable amount of time in here when I’m in residence. I’m thinking of having it converted to my study.’
‘Your study?’ she choked.
‘Yes. I haven’t had the opportunity to have the furniture moved in yet, but I was able to change the mouldings to the Grecian style and had the walls painted blue to match the colour of the Aegean Sea.’ There was no need for him to explain to her why he had altered the design of a room in a house that was his. In his annoyance with himself, he walked to the sofa near the door and unceremoniously dropped their outer garments on it. ‘I’ll go arrange for your tea.’
The sooner he got them out of the house, the better it would be for him. Elizabeth, the Duchess of Skeffington, had a nosy nature and her close proximity to the Blue Drawing Room was not what he needed. Before he went in search of a servant, he would make certain the door to that room was locked. But before he was able to leave, she stopped him with her voice.
‘Why would you change it?’ Her tone was soft and he wasn’t certain if the question was rhetorical. ‘It was perfectly lovely the way it was. What was so objectionable to you that you felt the need to alter it as you have?’
He turned to find her with a furrowed brow, skimming her finger along the top of the new marble mantel that was supported by two replica statues of classical women clad in sandals and sleeveless gowns.
‘There was nothing objectionable with how the room was decorated. However, this style is more to my liking.’
‘I liked the way it had been decorated.’
There was a slight hint of sadness in her voice and he almost felt sorry for her until she opened her mouth again.