Chapter 14
It was evening before the coach arrived at Epworth House, a Queen Anne-era mansion on the riverside in Richmond, both majestic and scenic.
“Oh my, I feel quite underdressed,” Mary whispered in awe as the driver helped them down from the carriage. “They must need a hundred servants to keep this place!”
“I have some good dresses with me, and Mother’s pearls,” Cecily whispered back, a little embarrassed at how her sheet-wrapped belongings would appear until she remembered Mrs. Barnes saying that they had been packed in a small trunk for her. “You may change into something finer than you have on.”
“Nathaniel! How lovely to see you, dear boy,” called out a tall and handsome fair-haired lady of around five-and-forty, stepping forward on the path to receive the Duke and be kissed on the cheek.
“I was delighted to receive your note and hear of your betrothal, but now I see you have brought me not one but two young ladies.”
“You are my favorite cousin, Isabella. I always seek to exceed your expectations.”
The blonde lady laughed and beckoned Cecily and Mary forward. “You more often confound my expectations, Nathaniel, than exceed them. Now, introduce us, please, before you embarrass everyone.”
“With pleasure. This is Miss Cecily Holt, who will soon be my wife, and her younger sister, Miss Mary Holt, whom I must entrust to your care until our marriage.”
Shrewd gray eyes took them both in, before the blonde lady nodded.
“Miss Holt, Miss Mary, this is Lady Isabella Jackson, my second cousin but vastly superior to my very prim first cousins whom I make a point of avoiding like the plague.”
The two sisters curtsied politely, both slightly thrown by the Duke’s style of introduction.
“Come in, my dears,” Lady Jackson urged with a nod of satisfaction, seeming to have sized up the confusing situation in an instant and to be well-accustomed to the Duke’s manner of speech.
“Dear me, Miss Mary does look to have been in the wars. We must run her a bath before dinner, and my maids will see to that dress.”
“Anything your guests require, you may order and charge back to me,” the Duke pronounced, offering his arm to his cousin and walking into the house with her.
Cecily and Mary followed behind, and servants began to unpack the various small boxes and bags from the carriage.
“Miss Holt will need a trousseau, just to begin with,” Lady Jackson advised. “From what you say, there is no one else to advise her on this.”
Having been constantly in crisis since the moment the Duke proposed to her, Cecily had not even thought about a trousseau. But all brides had one, didn’t they?
Dear Lord, she really was getting married.
“I will trust your judgment on such matters more than my own, Isabella.” The Duke shrugged, clearly caring no more for trousseaus than for other social conventions. “You and Miss Holt can make all the necessary arrangements.”
The voices of their hostess and the Duke lowered as they all entered the house.
Cecily found herself distracted by the elegant interior and the collection of various objets d’art, thoughtfully arranged along hallways, walls, and staircases.
Mary marveled aloud at the house’s beauty, while only snippets of the Duke’s conversation reached Cecily.
“… drunken brute of a man…”
“… still young…”
“Ashworth! Surely not?”
“… no fool, but not worldly…”
“… will be safe here…”
At the foot of the main staircase, Lady Jackson stopped and waited for her guests to catch up.
“The Duke will not be staying tonight,” she told them. “He has business to attend to at Greyhaven Park, but I am sure you will both be very tired in any case. You have rooms together on the second floor, and a bath is already being drawn. Eunice, do take Miss Mary upstairs and help her dress.”
Cecily was conscious of both relief and disappointment upon hearing that the Duke would be leaving. She had already wondered whether he would stay, and whether he would find his way to her room that night.
No, it is best that he stays as far away from me as possible!
“Now, I must go and dress up too,” Lady Jackson continued. “Do come back and see us soon, Nathaniel. Miss Holt, ring the bell when you’ve said your farewells, and someone will show you to your rooms. We dine at eight.”
Her heart fluttering, Cecily nodded as Lady Jackson went up the staircase. The servants dispersed, and she was left alone with the Duke. Of course, they were a betrothed couple, and it was natural for people to assume they were bidding each other a lover’s goodbye.
Engaged or not, Cecily had no idea what to say or what the Duke would expect. His expression gave her little clue as he stood there, regarding her with those burning blue eyes.
“You are leaving us, then?” she asked uncertainly. “I am sure Lady Jackson is disappointed—Oh!”
Without warning, the Duke had spun her around the side of the staircase and into the shadows, his lips finding hers as her arms instinctively wrapped around his waist.
“It is a pity I cannot stay here,” he murmured between kisses. “My cousin holds the same views as Mrs. Barnes on the ravishment of young women under her roof.”
Before Cecily could reply, she was caught in another deeper kiss, and the hum in her blood threatened to overwhelm her reason. She moaned breathily as he pulled back a second time and began trailing kisses down her throat.
“Do not fret, you will be ravished soon enough,” the Duke assured her, his voice seeming to roughen with the same desire he was arousing in her. “Once my ring is on your finger, you will be mine.”
With that final heart-jolting promise, he broke away and drew a deep breath, before smiling and striding out into the night.
* * *
Dinner was a quiet and relaxed affair, at least for Lady Jackson’s family and Mary.
Cecily was quiet, but far from relaxed, her mind still caught up in the moment the Duke had spun her into the shadows and the maelstrom of desire that followed his kisses.
Quickly recovered from her recent ordeals with all the resilience of youth, Mary chattered away to Lady Jackson during the meal, and Cecily was happy to let her do most of the talking.
“We will be dull here at Epworth House this week, I’m afraid,” Lady Jackson told them while the soup was being served. “My husband is visiting friends, and my sons are away at school. Still, it seems as well that you should be somewhere quiet for now.”
“Oh, I don’t mind that at all. Richmond seems lovely,” Mary enthused.
“We’re very grateful that you have taken us in, Lady Jackson,” Cecily said more seriously. “We had better be very quiet for now. I do not know exactly what His Grace has told you, but I would not want my uncle to find Mary here.”
“That would create unnecessary problems,” Lady Jackson agreed. “And the law would be on your uncle’s side. I think you will find, however, that Nathaniel’s influence is rather greater than Lord Holt’s and his will quite formidable when he chooses to exert it.”
“I know,” Cecily said, taking a sip of wine and feeling again the heady arousal that had run through her when the Duke had kissed her beside the staircase.
“I also have a number of burly footmen under instruction not to let any strangers into the house,” Lady Jackson assured Mary, seeing the fear on her face. “You will be quite safe, Miss Mary. Once your sister is the Duchess of Greyhaven, no one will be able to touch you.”
“You really have been most kind, Lady Jackson,” Cecily told her gratefully. “If you hadn’t taken us in, I don’t know where I would have taken Mary.”
“It is my pleasure to have your company, my dears. Now, let us talk about something more pleasant. Your trousseau ought to be ordered as soon as possible, Miss Holt. I understand that this will not be a long engagement, and a duchess’s wardrobe should not be stinted upon.”
“I have no idea what should be in a trousseau,” Cecily admitted. “My mother is dead, and I never thought I would marry.”
Lady Jackson smiled pleasantly. “As a mother of only boys, it will be my pleasure to assist you. Since we cannot go around in London at the moment, I have already invited two dressmakers to visit the house with samples and patterns.”
“How exciting,” Mary remarked with shining eyes. “Can I help you choose your wedding dress, Cecily?”
“There must be a wedding dress, court dress, day dresses, evening dresses, ballgowns, linens, stockings, petticoats, nightgowns,” Lady Jackson told them with a sweeping gesture of her hand, smiling when she saw the doubt on Cecily’s face.
“Nathaniel will wish his Duchess to be well-dressed, and you must not think of the expense.”
Cecily smiled back, although she still felt a little lost.
“I do not doubt His Grace’s generosity, but I did not have the impression that he cared very much for clothes,” she commented, much to Lady Jackson’s amusement.
“Oh, take no notice of that,” she chuckled.
“Nathaniel would have the world believe that he cares for nothing and no one, but I know him better. His wardrobe is all of the best quality and cut, even if he does not take the trouble to button and pin it. It is the same in other matters. He is much more than what he seems.”
“Imagine the ballgowns you could have,” Mary breathed, enthralled, seeming to have swiftly forgotten her own chagrin over the nature of Cecily’s marriage. “I can’t wait to see the patterns and fabrics.”
“Well, it seems I will definitely need all the help I can get,” Cecily said, both with regard to the trousseau and her future husband.
* * *
A full week went by at Epworth House without any real disturbance.
Cecily assisted Lady Jackson in preparing for a small garden party for friends and neighbors scheduled for the following week.
Lord Jackson returned home, and his two sons, Harry and Oliver—cheerful youths of sixteen and eighteen—came back from boarding school for the summer.
The house was alive with laughter and jokes.
The men proved as welcoming as Lady Jackson, and Cecily was glad of the chance to distract herself with Pall Mall or other games in the garden with the two boys and Mary.
The experience of ordering her trousseau proved fascinating but a little overwhelming.
“Has Nathaniel written to you yet?” Lady Jackson asked her over tea in the garden one afternoon as they watched Mary, Harry, and Oliver practicing archery on one of the lower lawns.
“I really must have a wedding date to give the dressmakers. They need to know what to prioritize and what can be finished in a shorter time.”
Cecily shook her head and sipped her tea. “No, he has not written to me,” she replied quietly.
She had already remarked silently to herself on the Duke’s lack of visits or communication and wondered what to make of it.
It seemed foolish to complain. In many ways, she appreciated the calm and peace of the Epworth estate, with its quiet greenery, easygoing family, and no darkly handsome men luring her or Mary into acts of extreme recklessness.
At the same time, she was filled with restless anticipation that seeped even into her dreams. Sometimes she woke hot and sweating with her nightdress around her waist, her hand between her thighs, and her mind full of images of a tall, dark man with compelling blue eyes.
Cecily both longed to see the Duke again and hesitated at the thought, knowing he would not be satisfied with kisses alone for very long.
“Hmm. I shall write to my cousin directly in that case,” Lady Jackson said. “He might well be busy with wedding business, and there are certainly all kinds of legal matters to be settled, but I do need an answer on dates.”
“Maybe he has changed his mind,” Cecily suggested. “Maybe he has changed his mind and decided he does not wish to marry me.”
At that, Lady Jackson laughed and laid a hand over Cecily’s on the table.
“My cousin does not change his mind so lightly once his course is set,” she told her.
“I have known him since he was a boy. Nathaniel might be careless and impatient with society’s niceties, but he is no dilettante or weathercock. When he intends something, he does it.”
“I can imagine he does,” Cecily replied, blushing a little.
“Nor have I ever known Nathaniel to break a promise, although he rarely makes them either,” Lady Jackson added, before falling into reminiscences. “What a peculiar child he was! Stubborn, moody, opinionated, and independent to a fault, long before he should have been.”
“Like Lilian,” Cecily hazarded a guess. “I only met her for a few minutes, but she made a strong impression.”
Lady Jackson looked at her shrewdly and nodded. “Yes, perhaps like his daughter. You must not think it is all in the blood, however. There is much that comes from upbringing.”
“Lilian seemed desperate for his company,” Cecily reflected. “He told me that she had everything she could want at Greyhaven, but she does not have her father’s attention, and she knows it.”
“You see things all too clearly there,” Lady Jackson sighed. “If only you could make Nathaniel see it too. Lilian will not seek his company forever. One day, she will give up on him, and it will be like a candle burning out. I’ve seen it happen with Nathaniel himself, and around this age too.”
“Was the Duke not close to his parents? Did they not spend much time at home?” Cecily asked, intrigued by this small window into his past.
“No, the former Duke and Duchess of Greyhaven liked to travel and to enjoy themselves. They were rarely at Greyhaven Park. I’m not saying they were bad people, but my mother thought they were selfish and lacking as parents.
Until he went away to school, Nathaniel was largely left to play in the servants’ hall or gardens.
He brought himself up in many ways, and Patrick too. ”
“He probably thinks he is doing the right thing for Lilian by making her mistress of her own little castle with a dedicated governess, nursemaids, and servants to do her bidding.”
“Doubtless, he thinks it’s the right thing, but that child needs a family, not another pony for her stable.
Did he tell you that he buys one every single year?
What child needs seven ponies? He certainly hasn’t taken my advice about Lilian over the years, nor his housekeeper’s. A wife might have more influence.”
“I shall do my best for Lilian,” Cecily resolved. “But the Duke must step up. Right now, the child wants her father, not a stranger coming in to be her stepmother, although she will get used to me over time.”
“All will be well in time, I am sure,” Lady Jackson said, putting down her teacup and smiling toward the trio of archers, all of whom seemed to have hit their targets this time.
Standing, she laid a hand on Cecily’s shoulder and smiled again.
“I’m also sure that Nathaniel has chosen well in you, and I can promise that you have chosen well in him, however strange the circumstances of your engagement.”
As Lady Jackson walked down the garden to the group of archers, Cecily hoped that her judgment was right.