Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Benedict strode into Kenworth House, his uncle’s London home in Mayfair after being announced by his uncle’s elderly butler, Nathaniel. The house had belonged to the Dukes of Kenworth for the last two centuries and after seeing his uncle’s aging butler, Kingston wondered if Nathanial had been there just as long. Portraits of the past dukes lined the halls and he paused for a moment at the visage of his grandfather wondering how the man could have so casually cast out his only daughter because of her choice of husband. He turned when he heard his uncle’s cane clacking along the marble floors toward him.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you today. In truth, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you at all.”
Kingston couldn’t help but grin at his uncle’s assessment. “Did you not say that you were leaving at the end of the week? I thought we should talk before your return to Sussex.”
His uncle nodded and turned to go into the library. Kingston followed behind him admiring the fine artwork on the walls. A fresco was painted on the ceiling and Kingston grinned wondering what his uncle would think of the mural displayed at The Lair, specifically the Roman orgy depiction on the ceiling of his bedroom.
His uncle fell back into an overstuffed chair beside the fire and motioned for him to take the seat opposite him. Kingston waited for the older man to catch his breath.
“Since you are here, I assume you have reached a decision.”
Kingston waited as his uncle coughed loudly into a handkerchief. “I read the letter my mother sent to you, but I am curious as to why you did not present it to me sooner?”
His uncle shrugged his shoulders. “I had every intention of giving it to you years ago. Life happened I suppose. I was caught up in matters concerning the duchy and then the untimely deaths of my wife and sons, but putting aside those things, something kept telling me to wait. Now I know why.”
“You do realize that I know nothing about being a duke. I was not raised to ascend to such a high rank and am not qualified for such a position.”
His uncle grinned weakly. “Nonsense, just because you weren’t trained from infancy doesn’t mean you can’t handle the responsibility. Besides, I am here to guide you, at least with what time I have left. My solicitor will keep you informed on all the holdings of the dukedom. There are several property holdings including two estates other than Kenworth Hall, which as you know is the family seat as well as a house in Brighton. You are a wealthy man in your own right, but my coffers are full to overflowing and with your knowledge of business, I feel confident that you will be successful in increasing the holdings.”
Kingston leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. “You seem to think that I have accepted your offer.”
“Would you be here if you had not? And it is not an offer, you are my legal heir. It is your responsibility to become the Duke of Kenworth after my demise.” He then grinned and for a moment Benedict thought he looked younger. “As I said, you would not be here now if you were set to decline.”
Kingston took a steadying breath. “Is there anything you would like for me to know that I can’t discover on my own or from your solicitor and estate stewards?”
His uncle shifted in his seat. “It is good that you have the prince’s ear and that you have made friends with the powerful Dukes of Avanley, Hawksford, and Leicester. Their significant influence and friendship will help you as you take your place among the ton.”
Kingston scoffed. “I have been moving among the ton for years.”
“Yes, but not as one of them. You have been a friend, an acquaintance, even an oddity, but never one of them. As Duke of Kenworth, you will outrank many who have looked down at you over the years, those that saw you as a gambler or libertine.”
Kingston frowned and his expression seemed to grow more resentful. “I don’t give a damn what any of them think.”
“As you shouldn’t! You are a member of a great aristocratic family. Your mother was the daughter of a duke. There is no reason for you to think of yourself as being lesser than anyone. Your blood is just as blue as theirs, if not bluer.”
The old man coughed loudly again, the sound reverberating throughout the room, and Kingston wondered if his uncle was being optimistic in thinking he would make it to the end of the year.
“But there is something you do not have that all your friends have been successful in attaining.”
Kingston narrowed his eyes. “And what is that?”
“A wife.”
Kingston abruptly stood from his seat. “Is this a new requirement for gaining a title? I know many lords who have refused to succumb to the rigors of matrimony.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It may not be a requirement, but a wife will be beneficial in assisting you in ways that your friends can not.” His uncle’s smile widened. “Although, I do have it on good authority that they are essential when producing an heir.”
Kingston’s brow furrowed. “I don’t want a wife.”
His uncle tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing just a fraction as he studied his nephew. “Do you prefer…men? Or are you not proficient in that area? Is something wrong with your….”
Kingston rolled his eyes in irritation. “No, I don’t prefer men, and I don’t have a problem with bedding women. I assure you that my cock is in perfect working order. I could have several women attest to that if you so choose. None of the women I have bedded over the years have offered up any complaints as to my performance. I simply do not want a wife.”
His uncle huffed out a frustrated breath. “Regardless of whether you wish for one or not, it will be necessary. You should marry a woman from an aristocratic family, one that the ton will accept readily.”
Kingston was beginning to regret coming here. This was a mistake. He should have refused his uncle and stayed at The Lair. “I suppose you already have a lady in mind.”
“I don’t have the time left to play matchmaker. I do feel confident you will be able to find a woman to accept you without my assistance.”
Kingston regretted this decision more and more.
“There is no rush. You obviously can assume the title without a bride. It might even make it easier for a lady to accept your suit. Every woman wants to be a duchess, whether she admits it or not. Choose wisely.”
“When do you leave for Sussex?”
His uncle tapped his cane loudly against the cold hard floor and a footman hurried into the room. “I leave tomorrow. If you would like to join me, you are welcome. I will inform the staff here at Kenworth House that you are my heir. They will treat you with the respect you deserve, and you may use Kenworth House as well as my other properties as if they are yours, because shortly they will be.”
Kingston watched as the servant he had summoned helped his uncle to his feet. “I have other matters to attend to first. The prince is expecting me to join him in Brighton within the next few weeks, but if time allows, I will join you at your estate.”
“Excellent. As I have said, I have a house in Brighton that you may use. I will send a letter to the staff today letting them know of your imminent arrival.” He was leaning heavily on his cane now, exhaustion written clearly across his face as he was escorted from the room. But before he reached the doors, he turned back to him. “For whatever it is worth, I feel you will be an excellent Duke of Kenworth. I am pleased you have accepted, and I know your mother would also be proud. I regret that my health will prevent me from furthering our relationship. I would have liked to have gotten to know you better, and perhaps I could have given you more assistance that would have been beneficial to you when you assume the title.”
Kingston didn’t respond as he watched his uncle leave the room. He took one more minute to look around at the house that would one day belong to him and hoped that he was not making the biggest blunder of his life by taking on such a monumental and life altering role.
White’s Club
“You are serious, aren’t you? There were always rumors as to your pedigree, but I never expected this,” Charles Newberg, the Duke of Avanley said in disbelief as he sat across from his friend in the private gentleman’s club frequented by the crème de la crème of the ton. “Hawksford and Leicester will not believe the news when I tell them. You were a bigger rake than all of us and now you are to be a duke. It’s unbelievable! You must be the luckiest man that ever lived, Kingston. I still can’t believe it’s true.”
Kingston ran his finger along the edge of his glass as he stared at the amber colored liquid. “I wish I wasn’t serious but it’s true.”
A deep chuckle quietly came from his friend. “So, for all the years we have known each other, you have been hiding the fact that your uncle was the Duke of Kenworth?”
A deep frown caused creases to appear on his forehead and between his eyes. “I wasn’t hiding it. Don’t make it sound like this is some sort of conspiracy, and I don’t see the humor in it. I never wanted this.”
Avanley picked up his drink. “Of course, you didn’t. It’s a tremendous responsibility. There are multiple estates to manage and the many tenants that depend upon you, the numerous business holdings, because it is always expected that the new duke increase the coffers of the family.” He took a drink. “Ah, the family. There is always someone claiming relation to you and wanting to use your name and influence to benefit them in some way, let’s not forget your responsibility to the country as you will be expected to take your seat in the House of Lords. Did I forget anything?”
Kingston drank the remainder of the brandy in his glass. “I came here hoping you would make me feel better about this situation not make me take the first ship to the continent never to be heard from again.”
Avanley chuckled softly. “Who else knows?”
“Just you. I haven’t even told Sam yet. I don’t know how this will affect the Lair or my idea of expanding into Brighton.”
“I wouldn’t worry overly much about that. The Devil’s Lair is famous around the world. The fact that its proprietor is the heir to an old and powerful duchy will only add to its appeal. I’m positive it will increase business, and Sam is efficient to help run things while you adjust to your many other responsibilities.” He sat his glass down on the table and leaned closer. “A word of advice though, if Prinny does not know, it would be wise to inform him yourself. He hates finding things out secondhand, and since he considers you a dear friend, it will be considered a slight for him to find out through someone else.”
Kingston sighed resolutely. “I have already considered that and will tell him tonight. I am to have dinner at Carlton House.”
“Excellent. Now the search for a wife can begin.”
Kingston looked up quickly surprised that his friend, the man who tried to marry a woman and leave her in the country to rusticate while he played merry in London, would even suggest such a thing.
“Don’t! It’s a bit hypocritical of you to even suggest it.”
Avanley’s lips turned up in a lop-sided grin. “I am only pointing out the inevitable, my friend. Besides, you might be lucky enough to find a lady like Isobel.”
Kingston was not amused at his friend’s sense of humor this evening. “If you would be willing to give up, Isobel, I might be tempted.”
His friend’s smile slipped. “You are lucky we are friends, Kingston.”
Benedict laughed at that, thinking of how Avanley’s views on marriage had changed since his arranged disaster of a marriage turned into a love match. He could only hope to be that fortunate.
“You do realize that as soon as the ladies of the ton discover you are Kenworth’s heir, you will be besieged. It is a daunting thing to be hunted. The debutantes of the beau monde can be vicious, and their mothers even more so.”
Kingston regarded his friend seriously. “The fact that I own and work at The Lair will surely deter them. Do not the members of the ton detest those that have a trade or work for a living? If not that, my reputation for wickedness precedes me.”
His friend stood from his seat. “If wickedness were a deterrent, neither Hawksford, Leicester, nor I would be married. Unfortunately, wickedness only adds to our charm. Seriously though, you will be a duke. Women are more than willing to overlook a rake’s past misdeeds for the chance of a ducal coronet. Good luck, my friend.”
Kingston watched as his friend walked away. He poured himself another drink thinking of how he needed to return to The Lair and make sure everything was ready for the night before he went to Carlton House. He sipped the brandy, letting the liquor burn as it slid down his throat. Once he informed the prince of his good fortune, there was no doubt it would be all over London by the end of the week. Hopefully, he would be in Brighton before the unmarried ladies of the ton set their sights on him.
The Devil’s Lair
About an hour later he walked back into the Lair. The gaming rooms were already packed with people and while he normally delighted in being among his patrons, tonight he just wanted to be alone with his own thoughts. He headed down to his private apartments away from the noise and crowds only to find Sam pacing the floor obviously waiting on him.
Kingston pinched the bridge of his nose, dreading what he was about to hear. “I have to be at Carlton House in two hours, so whatever has happened to make you look as if England has just been invaded, please tell me quickly.”
Sam pushed a lock of hair back that had fallen onto his forehead and handed him a letter. “James is still in Berkshire, but he sent this report on Miss Pettigrew.” He watched as his boss read the report. “He is requesting what instructions you have for him.”
Kingston read the letter, the pounding in his head increasing with each word he read. “The blasted chit lied to me. She said that she was not alone at this abbey.”
“What are you going to do about her brother?”
Kingston closed his eyes, his temper rising. He shouldn’t get involved. He had never become involved with any of the foolish lords that lost fortunes in his establishment before, but there was something about Miss Pettigrew that drew him to her. Something that made him feel pity for her circumstances, and after what her brother was trying to do to her, he knew he would never forgive himself if he turned a blind eye to the situation.
“I have to be at Carlton House. A meeting with the prince can’t be put off. I will leave for Berkshire first thing in the morning. Can you handle things here in London while I am gone? I don’t know when I will return. Hopefully, I can return to London before I go to Brighton, but I am not certain.”
Sam nodded. “Don’t worry about The Lair, I will take care of everything here. Just go and save that girl.”
Kingston’s head jerked up quickly. “Don’t make me sound like a knight in shining armor, Sam. I am not a defender of innocents. If you try to make me out to be her savior, you will just be disappointed when I contribute to her ruin.”
Berkshire, Village of Abington
Due to inclement weather, it took him nearly three days to reach the village of Abington traveling by carriage from London. He had stayed two nights at posting inns along the route which were less than pleasurable. Since he didn’t have the luxury to plan out his trip in advance, he was relegated to staying in whatever was available. His less than adequate accommodations the past two nights had led to a lack of sleep, and now as he approached the abbey where Miss Pettigrew was scraping out a meager existence, he realized his foul mood had not improved as the day progressed.
His carriage came to a stop, and he climbed out shielding his eyes from the sun as he looked around. The abbey was a stone structure but that was all he could say about it. It was an ancient building that looked as if it had fallen into disrepair centuries earlier. He could not imagine anyone, let alone a lady living in it. There were places where the walls were crumbling, the roof looked as if it had been recently patched, some of the windows were broken out, and he would not be surprised if it was infested with vermin. He opened the front door just a crack.
“Miss Pettigrew?”
The house was quiet and there was no answer. He pushed the door open further and stepped inside. Regardless of the outward appearance of the abbey, the inside, while sparsely furnished, was at least clean. He moved down the hall and peeked into the kitchen, but Miss Pettigrew was nowhere in sight. He wondered if perhaps she had gone into the village, and they had missed each other on the road. He strolled toward the back of the abbey and opened a door that led outside.
That was where he found her. She had still not heard his approach and was busy digging in the dirt in what looked to be a small garden. Seeing her like this, in these paltry surroundings, working to put food in her mouth, only made him that much more furious with her degenerate brother.
“You lied to me, Miss Pettigrew.”
Sophie jumped to her feet, her heart racing at the sound of the intruder who had invaded her peaceful day. When she turned, she saw Mr. Kingston leaning casually against the door frame, one leg crossed over another, and his arms crossed over his chest. He was dressed very fashionably and Sophie blushed thinking how she must look to him now wearing a dress that was at least three years old, torn, dirty, and had seen better days for sure.
“Mr. Kingston, I was not expecting to ever see you again.”
Benedict strode toward her, watching as she wiped the dirt from her hands on the front of her dress. “Let’s address another matter first, like the lie you told to me the night you came to The Devil’s Lair. You led me to believe that you were not alone here at the abbey. I have since learned that is not the case.”
Sophie stared at him for a moment, then shifted her eyes away. “I am not…alone. My brother is in the village. I’m sure he will…return soon. Although, I’m certain you will not wish to wait for him.”
Benedict shook his head slowly side to side. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Another falsehood. You are a terrible liar, Miss Pettigrew.”
Sophie narrowed her eyes just a fraction. “Why are you here, Mr. Kingston?”
“I am here because of you, Miss Pettigrew or shall I call you Sophie?”
“Miss Pettigrew will suffice.” She started to move around him, but when he reached out and grabbed her upper arm, she couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped her lips. The bruises she had received during her brother’s visit had still not healed and were tender to the touch.
Benedict glanced down to where he held her and upon seeing the discolored patches on her skin, immediately loosened his grip on her arm. “Now, let’s have a little chat, Sophie.”
She didn’t miss his deliberate use of her given name.
While he had loosened his hold, he still kept her in his grip. “Let’s discuss the fact that you are living in less than satisfactory conditions, that you have very little food to eat, and come winter you will freeze, and that you lied to me about being here alone.”
Sophie tried to pull out of his grasp. “All of which is none of your concern, Mr. Kingston.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Under normal circumstances, I would agree, but when you came to see me at The Lair, you made it my concern.”
“I only came to you because I didn’t want Edward to lose the abbey.”
Benedict looked around him, his nose wrinkling in the process. “Yes, this is a veritable paradise.”
Sophie clenched her hands into fists wanting to punch the man in his arrogant nose. “It may not be up to your standards, Mr. Kingston, but it is all that I have.”
Benedict noticed her jaw was set and while she was standing firm, he could see her eyes beginning to mist with tears. Although, she would probably die before letting them fall in front of him.
“I apologize, Miss Pettigrew. It was rude and very ungentlemanly of me to insult you.” He released her. “Please, can we go inside and have a cup of tea or something to drink? There is more I wish to discuss with you.”
Sophie wasn’t sure it was a good idea to let Mr. Kingston know anything about her life or circumstances, but what harm could it do to just hear him out? She was curious as to why he had traveled to Abingdon from London.
“I’m not leaving without saying what I have traveled here to say, so you should just agree to sit and have tea with me. Then we will decide our next course of action.”
Sophie sighed softly. “Fine, you can say your peace and be on your way.”
She walked back toward the abbey and Kingston followed behind her still wondering what the hell possessed him to get involved with this woman.