Chapter Eighteen #3
Tramondeley was quite adoring of the house and the landscape of the Dales, as it was so different from Cornwall.
They took long walks, hopping over the low stone walls they encountered and one time running from a bull they encountered.
They thought about taking some of the horses out, but it turned out that on top of only wishing to go for a horse-walk, rather than a horse-ride, she did not trust any other horse but Tulip and Tulip was still on her way home.
They visited the village and Thomas showed them the building that was to hold his and Charlie’s little tavern.
Once Tramondeley was apprised of the agreement that had been reached with the duke, he vowed to carry on the tradition when the time came.
After a month, the duke and Lord Ledderbey arrived.
According to the duke, they’d gone slow as Lord Ledderbey found the journey tiring.
According to Lord Ledderbey, going slow had meant more overnight stays at inns and he could not say with any confidence that those innkeepers were happy to see the duke.
He’d never seen so many sighs and rolled eyes directed at one gentleman in his life.
There had been a very frightening cook at one of them who’d hurled all sorts of threats in the duke’s direction.
With the duke and Lord Ledderbey came Mr. Huberville. Much to Lady Marchfield’s surprise, the duke finally did have a butler. Mr. Hubert Huberville could not be pawned off on anybody. He remained very terrible at his job but everybody was certain he’d starve on the road if he was dismissed.
He would go on to regularly take what was right and somehow make it wrong.
One might imagine Lady Marchfield would feel entirely victorious over it, but the facts of the case proved otherwise.
Mr. Huberville was so bad at butlering that it became widely known in Town that the Duke of Pelham employed the most ridiculous butler who ever set foot in London.
The duke, himself, always liking to put people on the back foot, especially his sister, did not mind it one bit.
He advertised far and wide that it was Lady Marchfield who had recommended Mr. Huberville.
As for the barnacle on a boat himself, once he realized that there was nothing he could do to get fired, he got far more cheerful over his failings.
In any case, the footmen he employed after Thomas and Charlie were gone were always eager to cover up his mistakes because after all, he was an exceedingly kind sort of man.
He would go on to supervise a rather lax staff and while he never was very skilled, he intellectually understood the job.
He spent much time with his footmen, training them on everything they needed to know.
While he might drop anything breakable placed in his hands, he was quite comfortable of an evening sipping his sherry and communicating his knowledge to willing ears.
Quite a few of them moved on to become butlers in other houses.
Charlie and Thomas opened a tavern in the duke’s little village, paying the duke one pound a year and all the ale he could drink. As the duke kept bottles of his own claret there for his use, he did not drink much of their ale.
The vicar, as was expected, did not look approvingly over the idea of a tavern, as he very much feared the menfolk would be often drunk.
He did not get far with his complaints though, as nobody especially cared about the vicar’s opinion and most were of the opinion that if God were against ale, he would not have created the ingredients for it.
In any case, the women of the village felt free to come in too, as everybody had known Charlie and Thomas since they were young lads.
The vicar finally gave up and began joining his congregation at their libations, as he did find that a small glass of the tavern’s ale soothed his fraught imaginings of what the duke might say to him next.
When the time came, Valor and her husband and Lord Ledderbey set off for Cornwall.
They took their time so that Lord Ledderbey did not tire too very much, making a week’s stop in London to break up the journey.
To Valor’s surprise, Sir Galahad really took to Lord Ledderbey and could be found on his lap more often than not.
The house in Cornwall surpassed Valor’s imagination.
She had only seen the sea once and this was a different sort of view.
High up on a cliff perch she could look out over the horizon and thank her stars that Tramondeley did not sail out to that expanse under cover of darkness anymore.
In the warmer weather, they would leave the windows open and Valor found the regular rhythm of the waves coming on shore very comforting.
And so they would go on traveling between Cornwall and the Dales. Over time, Lord Ledderbey stopped making the arduous trip. He met a lady close to his own age who was a voracious reader just like he was and they spent their days quietly reading by the windows and retiring early.
Lady Letitia did finally wed her baronet.
Like most fathers, the duke was worn down by time rather than outright defiance.
Lady Letitia began dropping heavy hints about spinsterhood being right around the corner and how she would stay with her father forever.
He began to see the sense of the baronet.
Lady Letitia and her baronet would end as close friends to Valor and Tramondeley, as the real lady was not at all like the lady they’d met that first season.
The Count di Compressio, weasel that he was, managed to weasel out of blame for returning home having left the Mosquito untouched, the Hertfordshire estate gone, no bride on his arm, and the family exiled from England forever.
He managed all that by writing the marquis that Monsieur Bernard was a double agent working with the English, had exposed him, and nearly had him killed.
The count was not at all surprised to discover upon his arrival to the villa that Monsieur Bernard had been poisoned a month prior.
Lady Tallifer was able to rescue her reputation not from what she said but who she was.
Nobody at all acquainted with that fluttering butterfly of a lady could for a moment believe she had involved herself in anything dangerous.
Further, her side of the family cut off all communication with the marquis.
Though the duke had always claimed his dear-held wish in life was to unload all of his daughters on unsuspecting fools, once he’d done it he did not feel so satisfied.
He spent approximately one month alone on his estate and then promptly married Mrs. Right.
One might suppose that idea had been brewing between them for quite some time, though nothing had ever been said aloud.
Once the girls were successfully launched, the duke could not think what else he’d rather do.
That couple, liking to be on the move, regularly descended upon his sons-in-laws’ houses with no notice whatsoever. They also descended upon London during the season and there were those who refused to entertain a former housekeeper even if she were a duchess.
The duke understood all too well that there would be no friendly talking into it when it came to accepting his new bride and former housekeeper. Therefore, he’d need to frighten them all into it.
So he did. Hostesses who tried to cut them were shouted at on the street when they were eventually found.
Some of the duke’s favorite things to shout were: “Lady So and So, what’s happened to you?
You’ve aged a hundred years!” or “Lady So and So, do tell me the viscount no longer beats you!” or “Lady So and So, I’ve heard you were pinched, allow me to lend you some money! ”
One might have thought that the husbands of these beleaguered hostesses might step in and demand satisfaction from the duke. They did not bother, though, as they were all perfectly aware that he would swear he would blow them to bits and then sleep through the appointed time.
The ton was well-armed to put down all sorts of people, but they found they could do nothing with a man who could not be shamed into behaving. They had also become cognizant over the course of time that crossing the duke could lead to rather bizarre revenge tactics.
It was tacitly agreed in society that when it came to the Duke of Pelham and his housekeeper duchess, one ought to just hurry past, not make eye contact, and invite them to routs and other crowded places.
Placing servants in strategic locations during these entertainments also proved savvy, as it prevented a person’s curtains from going up in flames.
For whatever discomfort that couple caused the ton, the duke and his new lady got on very well together.
After all, Mrs. Right was well acquainted with the duke’s temperament and did not fan herself over it.
As a further bonus, she had always acted as mother to the duke’s daughters, and now she was their mother in name too.
Over the years, the duke’s house on Grosvenor Square became the center for activity for his grandchildren.
They would come at all hours with no notice whatsoever and stay the night if they preferred it.
There were times the duke was out and did not even know they were in the house until he saw them at breakfast. There were other times he arrived from the Dales and found a pile of them already there.
There were times he noted a strange dog in the drawing room and then eventually one of his grandchildren would turn up to claim it.
The eldest of them, Grace’s son Miles, kept them all going in the same direction and Pelham’s Pirates was firmly established.
Valor and Tramondeley added their contribution to the pirates—a strapping young lad and little miss eager to join in.
Valor was delighted to have children, though she was shocked to her shoes over the sorts of risks her son would take as if he had no notion that he inhabited a human body and could die.
She might have grown more brave than she’d started, but her nightmares continued.
She did not dream of foxes’ cries anymore, but rather terrible scenarios in which her boy was hurt.
That boy would manage to survive just fine, as everybody knows that children are impossibly resilient.
Tramondeley acted as an opposing force, as if Valor had her way, her boy would have spent his childhood tied to a chair so he did not get hurt.
As it was, Tramondeley taught him how to sail the sloop, but only in the daytime and within sight of the house.
Her girl was less frightening, though Valor would have been happy if she was as fearful of the unknown as she’d always been herself.
She was not, however. She might not be as prone to flinging herself off every available surface as her brother was, but that did not stop the worry.
There are some parents who fret excessively over the welfare of their progeny, and Valor Nicolet, Future Duchess of Pelham, was a shining example.
She soothed herself by peeking into their rooms at night to confirm they were still alive, and nobody had a harder time of it than the nursemaids who had to put up with it.
And so, despite Lady Marchfield’s predictions, which even if harsh had always been very sensible, all of the duke’s children were settled creditably.
Nobody was more surprised than the duke.
The end.