Chapter Six #2
Barrington shrugged. He tugged on the bellpull near the door. “I try to be. They’ve been with me for years, and they are loyal. I think that is more than most families can say.”
“You are certainly not the sort of duke I expected.” When she stood up from the sofa, she shook out her skirting. “It’s refreshing.”
Amusement mixed with confusion in his eyes. “What sort of duke did you think I was?” As a footman answered the summons, he quietly told the man to gather all the available servants, for they were doing an impromptu decorating party in the drawing room.
“Oh, you know type. Balding with a paunch, dissolute, full of vices, breath like garlic.” When he threw her a shocked look, she couldn’t help but chuckle.
Then a couple of footmen entered the room with a tall wooden ladder.
Soon after, the housekeeper followed, along with the butler, and she was quickly introduced to everyone.
When the footmen set work hanging a large wreath woven with red velvet ribbon over the fireplace, the cook entered the room with a rolling tea tray for everyone. Barr’s valet followed.
The duke came forward. “Miss Pickwick, this is my friend and valet, Charles Travers, and his wife, Sarah. They have both been with me for more years than I can count, and Sarah is a genius in the kitchen.”
“Hush, you,” the cook said with a hint of a blush in her cheeks.
Both she and Travers were perhaps in their early to mid-thirties, and they were adorable together.
She rested her gaze on Cate. “His Grace is full of gammon sometimes, I think, but he is a decent employer, and though he is stubborn at times when we tell him he needs to put himself back out into society, I can’t imagine working for anyone else. ”
Travers nodded. “Indeed, but he and I have been friends for more years than I can count. There is no better man in London.”
“That is high praise indeed.” She bestowed a smile on the valet. “I’m glad he has people like you around him.”
Off to the side, Barr waved away their compliments as a hint of ruddy color rose up his neck. “I have a feeling some of this is for your benefit, Miss Pickwick.”
“I doubt that. They are obviously fond of you.”
The cook chuckled. “Everyone, please partake in the tea. I’ve brought two pots so there’s enough for everyone.
” She included the whole company in her gaze as a few maids drifted into the room.
“While we do that, perhaps we should go around the room and share one of our favorite Christmastide memories.”
The whole afternoon was a gay affair as decorations went up and the assembled company related many sweet memories.
There were many laughs exchanged, especially when one of the footmen related a story of how he’d fallen into a horse trough by accident on Christmas morning as a youth when he’d received a horse of his own.
While Cate indulged in her tea, she watched as the duke circulated around the room, talking and laughing with various members of the staff.
He even lent a hand in placing tin bells and glass balls within greenery on the hearth.
The whole thing was cozy and lovely, for the he didn’t treat anyone differently.
His actions tugged at her heart and were most appreciated.
Being here truly felt as if she were included in a big family.
Travers drifted over to her location. “Would you like to have a tour of the house? I can show you the rooms where the duke has done renovations by himself.”
“Oh! That might prove interesting.” When she glanced across the room at the duke, he was occupied by directing one of the footmen hang the wreath higher over the hearth. “Are you offering the tour now?”
“Of course.” There was a certain gaiety about him. He nodded at his wife, who gave him a smile in return. “It shouldn’t take long.”
“I welcome the break. As all of you gather together, I’m reminded of how things were when I grew up.
Now, it’s just me and my father. He’s scatter-brained and distant when working on an academic paper as he is now.
I’m not sure he even remembers it’s the holiday season, even though I’ve mentioned it a few times. ”
“If he’s happy, then leave him be. We all have precious little time as it is.”
“Very true.” As she walked with him downstairs, he told her about his history with the duke and how they’d become friends. Then they arrived at the parlor. “This is His Grace’s most recent project. It hadn’t been updated since he’d married the late duchess.”
“It’s so pretty.” She peered about the space, with the crushed velvet upholstery in a pleasing rose color.
Moss green accents broke up the space. One of the walls remained without paper.
A wooden ladder leaned against that wall.
Sheets of moss green paper stamped with thin cream and pink stripes waited on the floor.
Pink draperies rested over the back of a sheet-covered sofa. “What was the color scheme before?”
“Gold and blue.”
“This is far more welcoming. The duke has quite an eye for detail and color.”
“He does, and what is more, he truly enjoys working with his hands even though he has the funds to pay laborers to do this in a fraction of the time.” Then he led her up the stairs to the third level. “I assume you’ve seen the study?”
“I have. The leather chair behind the desk is quite comfortable.” And said desk was massive. She wouldn’t mind testing its strength if the duke wished for a tryst.
“That was the first room he renovated two years ago when his son announced his engagement.” Travers showed her into a suite near the top of the stairs. “This is the duchess suite, and his next project once the parlor is finished.”
Cate popped her head into the room and frowned. “It’s been stripped of everything.” Paper had come down, no furniture occupied the space, the floorboards had been pried up, draperies at the windows here gone, and the glass itself had shades drawn. “Why?”
“Who can say? But if I know Barrington, it was his way of closing that chapter of his life. Her Grace spent the last months of her life in this suite so she wouldn’t disturb him, and for a year or so after her death, he kept the rooms locked, so this is a good step forward.”
“I can understand that. Grief has no timeline, but beyond the pain, there is also healing. It seems he is making good use of walking his new path through life.”
“Exactly. I’m glad for him. For too long, my wife and I were worried about him.” He backed out of the suite and closed the door.
Cate nodded. “Understandable. And you aren’t now?”
“Not as much. He still drags his feet about going into society, but that will come, I’ll wager.”
“Well, he’s made impressive strides.” As they went back to the second floor, where he showed her the improvements done to the dining room, she asked, “Is Scarborough interested in marrying again?”
“Marriage? I’m not certain.” Travers tossed her a glance brimming with speculation. “It would depend on the woman, but I believe he needs someone in his life to keep him from hiding. It’s far too easy for him to lose himself in these projects or in collecting first editions.”
“In that way, he is much like my father, I fear. Once my mother died, he buried himself in his work, even more than he had before.” To that end, what did Barrington want from life, from her?
A tryst only? Did it matter since she was enjoying their mutual carnal play?
Life was short, indeed, so why was she questioning herself if she found enjoyment and delight in what she’d shared with the duke already?
Deciding none of it mattered, she thanked the valet for the tour as they paused at the doors to the drawing room.
“About that Egyptian book His Grace has found?”
“Yes?”
The valet frowned. “Encourage Scarborough to sell it quickly.”
“Why? It’s quite a find.”
“Agreed, but things like that should have stayed buried. Now that you both have opened it and are now translating it, you’ll probably end up cursed.”
“What?” Cate snorted with amusement. “It’s an erotic storybook that has mentioned nothing about a curse.”
“Who can say?” Travers shrugged. “The Ancient Egyptians were a clever lot, weren’t they? We will never know how such things work.”
“True, but I promise to be careful.” Then she entered the drawing room and flashed a smile when the duke glanced at her with questions in his eyes.
Over the course of the next hour, the room was splendidly decorated and once finished, there was no denying the holiday season was well underway. Eventually, the gathering broke up and she was only too happy to give her thanks to the staff.
Once alone with the duke, Cate smiled. “This has been one of the loveliest days I’ve passed in quite some time, but I should probably go home. Papa will want his dinner in a couple of hours, and I need to continue work on the translation.”
“Nonsense. It’s barely four o’clock. Your father probably doesn’t take the evening meal until seven, and besides, from what you’ve told me about him, he’s no doubt at the Reading Room in the British Museum.”
There was that. “Yes, but the translation—”
“It can wait. After all, that young couple in love has been dead for centuries. Their story can remain a secret for a few days.” He winked. “I have some impressive first editions tucked away in the library if you’d like to see them.”
“So Travers mentioned, and yes, I would be delighted.” Perhaps she could encourage a kiss from him as well.
“Excellent, and since there are a few decorations remaining, you can tell me where to place them in that room.”
“Yes, let us see what we can get up to in the library. Anything is possible surrounded by books, hmm?” It would seem this day would just keep getting better.