Gerard attempted to straighten his suit as he stepped down off the horse. The image of his butler’s face as he had left his London townhouse that morning, the nose curling with disgust, was ever present in his mind. Apparently, his new butler, Yates, did not approve of the fact Gerard either walked everywhere or rode. The carriage in the stables was gathering dust.
Gerard held onto the reins of his horse on the driveway of the house as he looked at the building. The home was a fine one indeed, though it struck him that it was perhaps a little rough around the edges, unlike the house he had inherited from his late father. It needed some work, some money to fix some of the old windows and red brickwork that was starting to fall apart.
A stable boy ran up, panting, out of breath as he sprinted around to Gerard.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the boy called between his pants. “I’ve just been cleaning the carriage. I should have seen you coming.”
“Nay worries, lad,” Gerard assured him with a smile. His own staff seemed to have a man to do each job. It struck him at once that the boy before him was doing more than one job then.
Aye, the rumors must be right about Lady Charlotte Morton’s family. There isnae much money left in this house.
“Look after her, lad,” Gerard said and placed a coin in the boy’s palm for his trouble.
“Thank you, sir!” the boy called after him happily. He whistled to the horse and good-naturedly urged her over to the stables.
Gerard walked slowly up to the house, finding his nerves made him straighten the creases in his jacket once again.
Before he was a duke, he never would have shown any qualms about calling at a stranger’s door, but as a duke, it seemed all the rules were now different. What was more, he was calling on the daughter of an earl. Never in his life had he called at such an affluent house before.
“Daenae mess this up,” he muttered darkly to himself and glanced back at the driveway leading back to the open road. Notfor the first time did he wonder if he could leave this life behind and head back to Edinburgh, but as the solicitor, Mr. Johnson, had warned him. He would always be a duke now, wherever he tried to hide.
Slowly, he raised his hand and knocked on the door. It was opened a minute later by a kindly faced butler.
“Good day to you.” The butler bowed deeply. “My name is Barnaby, sir. What can I do for you?”
“Good day to ye, Barnaby. I am…” He paused. It was still hard for Gerard not to introduce himself by his name, but his title instead. “I am the Duke of Rodstone, but please, daenae call me ‘Yer Grace’.”
The butler smiled, as if he understood.
“Come in, sir,” he said, making Gerard sigh with relief. “If you will care to wait in the front drawing room here, I shall call the earl for you.”
“Thank ye. Though it is actually Lady Charlotte I am here to see.”
This news made Barnaby smile all the more, crinkling the skin around his eyes.
“Of course, sir. I shall fetch them at once.” Barnaby bowed and hurried off as Gerard waited at the door of the drawing room, fiddling with the hat he had taken off his head. He still had noliking for top hats and preferred the informal flat style that he had always worn in Edinburgh. He could see plainly how out of place it was in this environment.
“A duke?” a voice squealed across the house.
Gerard turned around sharply, peering across the corridor and to another room that he presumed was the dining room from the racket and clattering pots that ensued. A lady appeared in the door a second later, older, with large blue eyes and an excited smile. She still had a teacup in her hands, though Barnaby quickly took it away for her.
“Mother. Mother!” Lady Charlotte was hissing from a distance in the dining room. Clearly, Lady Charlotte insisted on propriety with everyone in her life.
Gerard smiled as he stepped a little deeper into the drawing room, though he still hung on the edge, not sure he belonged there.
Try as he might, he had not stopped thinking of Lady Charlotte since their meeting the night before. He owed her a debt now, a favor, and he hated being indebted to anyone. He wished to be free of this feeling. Yet her excessively pretty blue eyes and full lips didn’t help him erase her from his thoughts. As bonnie as Lady Charlotte had been, that sharp tongue of hers had to be the reason she was not yet married.
The rest of the evening, the few people who managed to summon the confidence to speak to him, he had pressed for informationabout Lady Charlotte Morton. It had become clear very quickly that the gossip about her family was not favorable.
‘Family fallen from fortune, Your Grace,’one balding and large man, almost as round as he was tall, had declared and shaken his head.‘You will want nothing to do with them.’
Yet this last year, Gerard had discovered merely one thing about his relationship with theton. He was not a particular fan of doing as they expected him to.
Within a few more seconds, the door burst open wider, and Lady Charlotte’s mother appeared, excited in manner as she hurried across the room toward him. An older man followed, with almost the same excitement. Behind him, two children followed. The boy had to be about thirteen and the girl fourteen. Just as Gerard’s stomach tightened and he feared Lady Charlotte would not come, she entered the chamber last.
She walked calmly and elegantly into the room, not a dark hair out of place from her prim updo.
“The Duke of Rodstone. What an honor this is.” The mother hurried toward him and curtsied.
