The Duke's Pretend Match

Chapter 1

Chapter One

“Children, where are you?” Clara Sterling called out as she entered St. Margaret’s House.

The orphanage was an old, weathered building that was said to have stood since Norman times. There was a crumbling wall stretching around the grounds of the house, and vines creeping up one wall. Some of the windows were cracked, and the path that led to the garden was covered in moss.

Clara’s words echoed around the empty hallways. She ventured into the front room and tutted when she saw the toys strewn about near the toybox. In the library, books had been placed on the floor, the pages open to the air. In the dining room, a maid was still tidying up the remnants of breakfast.

“Have you seen the children, Joanne?”

“I think they’re in the garden, ma’am,” Joanne replied.

Clara pressed her lips together. She had told Joanne not to call her ‘ma’am’ many times, but the message never seemed to take.

Clara plucked a currant bun from the table and popped it in her mouth as she exited the house and made her way to the garden.

She passed by vegetable patches containing potatoes, leeks, carrots, and cucumbers when she heard the children’s voices dancing in the air, and saw shadowy figures moving about in the old greenhouse.

Clara sighed and increased her pace until she was standing in the doorway. The children were huddled together.

“I believe I forbade you from coming out here unsupervised,” Clara said, glancing worriedly at the fragile panes of glass.

The children gasped, startled by her sudden appearance. They looked at her with wide eyes and huddled even more closely together, as though they were hiding something.

Their names were Emily, Oliver, Sophie, and Teddy.

Emily was impudent for her age, believing that she knew better than most adults.

Agatha, Clara’s grandmother, often said that Emily reminded her of Clara when Clara was younger.

Clara did not think this was accurate. Oliver and Sophie were both quiet.

Oliver liked to read and observe people, while Sophie was often lost in her drawings, which were coming along nicely with Clara’s tutelage.

Teddy was the youngest of them all, but the most affectionate.

He was the only one who smiled as Clara approached, putting her hands on her hips and wearing a stern look.

“They are supervised. I am supervising them,” Emily said, turning up her chin.

“You cannot supervise them. You are only twelve years old,” Clara said.

“That is old enough for many things. Aunt Agatha told me that when you were twelve you were running the entire household.”

Clara narrowed her eyes slightly. “Did she?” Clara murmured.

She would have to have words with her great-grandmother as soon as possible.

“Well, she was mistaken because I was most certainly not running my house. However, I am running this house, which means that you need to leave. I am disappointed that you failed to tidy up after yourselves. Come on,” Clara clapped her hands together, but the children were reluctant to move.

Clara frowned, perplexed. They were not usually too much trouble. Mischievous, yes, but disobedient?

“We were going to tidy up. It’s just… something important happened,” Oliver said, looking at the ground.

“What happened?” Clara asked.

“It’s about the man!” Teddy piped up, at which point Emily nudged him so hard he stumbled forward, almost falling to his feet.

Emily glared at Teddy, who pouted as he looked back at her, rubbing his shoulder.

Because he moved, Clara could see what the children were hiding.

There was a large square of material on the ground, and inside were some treasured belongings.

Clara saw Teddy’s carved wooden horse, which he took everywhere with him, one of Oliver’s favorite books, Sophie’s drawings, and one of Emily’s pretty brooches.

“Why do you have all this here?” Clara said, mystified as to why the children had gathered these things like magpies taking shiny objects back to their nests.

“We don’t have anything here,” Emily said, stepping in front of the objects and spreading her arms out wide. Clara cocked her head and exhaled deeply.

“Children, it is far too early for this kind of behavior. We shall return to the house and go about our lessons, and in the afternoon you may show me what you don’t have here.

” Clara looked pointedly past Emily to the collection of children’s treasures behind her.

Teddy, Oliver, and Sophie all started marching towards the door with bowed heads.

Only Emily remained rooted to the spot.

“What’s the use? The house isn’t going to be ours for much longer,” Emily said. “Why didn’t you tell us?” There was a sharp edge to her words. Betrayal, fear… anger. Clara blinked, shocked.

“What on earth gave you that impression? This house will be your home for as long as you need it.”

“That’s not what Joanne said,” Emily replied.

“Joanne? What has Joanne been saying?” Clara twisted around, looking at the other children.

“She was speaking to Ruth about the,” Teddy paused for a moment, “so little her.”

“Solicitor,” Oliver corrected.

“He came yesterday. Joanne said we’re all going to have to leave. She says she doesn’t want to go back living with her mother and Ruth said that maybe she could go and work in a bawdy-house, and Joanne…” Emily said.

Clara’s cheeks colored at this. Thankfully, the children didn’t know the meaning of the word.

Did they? As well as having words with Agatha, she would have to speak to the maids about being more cautious with their language, for the children were usually hovering close by.

Clara brought her hands together in a sharp clap, interrupting Emily’s words.

“Right, I don’t know what this is about, but I’m sure you’ve misunderstood. I don’t know anything about a solicitor’s visit.”

“He spoke with Aunt Agatha,” Emily said.

“That would explain why I haven’t heard anything about it,” Clara muttered under her breath. She placed her hands on Emily’s back and ushered her towards the other children. Then, Clara gathered up the belongings and carried them, using the material as a rudimentary sack.

“Let us go back to the house. You can tidy up the toys and books while I clear up this matter. Nobody is going to make you leave this house. St. Margaret’s is your home,” Clara said with tenacity, although in the back of her mind there was a niggling feeling that something was incredibly wrong.

Clara and the children returned to the house.

Just as the children were about to scamper to the front room, Agatha emerged.

Her hair was bound back in a neat, silvery bun and the wrinkles on her face were becoming more prominent with every passing year.

She had also developed a stoop, but her eyes twinkled as brightly as ever.

“Oh, good morning, children, Clara. I was looking for all of you. Teddy, I have a story I think you might enjoy. It happened in my youth. I was out with my family in the New Forest. We always used to take trips there in the summer. They were some of the happiest times of my life, and I really should go there again. I must mention that to Theodore. Anyway, I was walking along by myself as I liked to do in those days, because sometimes the best company you can be in is your own. I want you to remember that, children,” her wizened eyes passed across each child in turn, “I was walking past a stream when I saw this majestic horse. So beautiful she was, with a golden mane and bronze hide, and I know you like horses. She was drinking from the stream. I walked up to her and… and oh… what happened then?”

Clara waited a moment as Agatha’s brow furrowed. Agatha raised her hand to her mouth and gnawed on her knuckle, deep in thought.

“Grandmother,” Clara said, smiling gently, “as fascinating as this story is, we need to talk.” In all accuracy, Agatha was her great-grandmother, but she claimed she wanted no reminders of her advancing age.

“Hmm? Very well, Charlotte, what would you like to talk about?”

“I’m Clara, Grandmother.”

Agatha blinked, and a blank look came over her face. “Yes, that’s what I said. Clara.”

“Let us go and sit down. Children, run along and tidy up,” Clara said. They did so, although Sophie remained behind and stared up at Clara, then tugged at the sack. Clara had almost forgotten she was holding it.

“Oh yes, you must want your drawing. Here you go,” Clara handed Sophie the sack.

She gathered it in her arms and trundled after the other children, while Clara and Agatha ducked into the nearest room.

Agatha settled in her usual seat, which had been used so often that there was a groove that had been formed by her body.

She picked up her cup of tea and sipped it, but made a disgusted face.

“It’s cold. Why are they serving me cold tea?”

“I’ll have a word with them,” Clara said, even though she assumed that Agatha had simply forgotten it was there. Such occurrences were becoming more common. One more worry she would have to deal with.

“They are dears, aren’t they? They remind me of Charlotte, Edmund, and Lydia. Oh, I’m sure they’ll have such fun together,” Agatha smiled and seemed a little happier now that she was sitting down.

“I hope so, although they seem troubled this morning. Did you get a visit from a solicitor?” Clara asked.

“A solicitor? No, I don’t believe so. I’m sure I would remember something like that. Have you been seeing a solicitor?”

“I haven’t been seeing anyone.”

“I know,” Agatha harrumphed. “But it’s high time you do! You are not going to stay young forever. You’re eighteen now, and it’s time you set the ton ablaze.”

“I am one and twenty, Grandmother.”

“Exactly! My point exactly, my dear. You must start thinking about the future. Happiness awaits. I have never been happier than when I was married.”

“I should think you would counsel patience, given that you and Grandfather Theodore married later in life.”