As the sun was shining directly in his eyes, Matthew put his hand up to shade from the glare.
“What is that?” he asked pointing to a man walking up the hill toward the Manor.
Stevens strained to see. “I believe it is a gentleman with what appears to be a child, Your Grace.”
“And I believe you are correct. Exactly what I was thinking, Stevens.”
“Would you like me to see to it?”
“If you would be so kind. We cannot have just anyone roaming around the estate as though we were a public thoroughfare.
“Quite right, Your Grace.” And Stevens headed out toward the approaching man.
Matthew could see his butler had approached the man and they were conferring.
“Huh,” he exclaimed, as Stevens started returning, accompanied by the man.
* * *
The Duchess of Sutherland had been born Judith Elkins, a renowned local beauty, who snatched up the young Matthew Grayson, heir to the Grayson estate, as soon as it was known his family was searching for the future Duchess of Sutherland.
It could be said that Miss Judith was the perfect match for the young Matthew. She came from a grand local merchant family—her mother was deceased, and she had no siblings. She would inherit the entirety of her father’s estate. And she was comely and socially graceful, although it was rumored she could be a little light headed when it came to serious discussions. But what use was an intelligent wife, Matthew’s mother often stated—intelligence would only hamper what might otherwise be a very calm and tranquil marriage.
Judith stood at her bedroom window, on the second floor of the Manor, looking down at her husband as Stevens and a gentleman with a child approached. The harsh morning light was not kind to a woman who had just turned forty. And she appeared to have a rather pinched-looking face from her habit of scowling at anything that upset her even moderately—which was often. But she still had her lovely blonde hair, she maintained her svelte figure, and she was still considered as handsome if no longer the fresh beauty of her early years.
She was holding a cup of tea—always her first each morning—delivered when she was awakened by her personal maid, Flossy. Judith parted the drapery a little further and peered down at the commotion going on below her. She was intrigued as to what this Kerfuffle might be about, but she was not intrigued enough to leave her room until she was properly dressed. And that would take at least another hour.
“Flossy, my dear, might you pour me another cup of tea and then go downstairs and see what is going on? There seems to be some agitation, and I cannot for the life of me tell what it is all about.”
“Yes, your Grace,” Flossy said topping up the tea from the teapot.
“Uh, the tea is cold,” Judith said with a grimace.
“I will fetch a new pot when I go down,” Flossy said as she scooted out of the bedroom.
Judith sighed and examined a small tear in her dressing gown. “Bother,” she said and headed to her dressing table where the morning’s hair and facial reconstruction would begin once Flossy returned.
* * *
Ben Goodbody was not one of The Duke’s tenants. He was from a long line of cartwrights that maintained a business in the village of Chiseldon, but he was known to Matthew by name and by trade.
“But what am I to do with this child,” His Grace asked with some astonishment.
“Know not, Your Grace. But I can do naught. I got three daughters and two young lads. Cannot take another,” Ben said, handing the distraught child over to Stephens, who grimaced and knew not what to do with the creature.
Matthew was flustered. “But my good man how am I to be held responsible?”
“The Brightons be your tenants, sir. And as far as I can tell, there be no survivors. All burnt down to the ground and not a flicker of life nowhere to be found.”
Matthew sighed, and turned to Stephens. “Take the child inside and let Mrs. Wilkes have a look at her. She probably needs a wash-up and a feed.”
“Very well,” Stephens said, as she tried to take the child from Goodbody. But she clung to the man’s neck and resisted letting go, sending up a wail of grief until she was forcibly pulled away. Finally, Stephens had a good hold on the girl and started up the stairs to the entryway.
Matthew reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a gold sovereign. “Thank you, Goodbody. I shall send some of my fellows over shortly to take a look at what is left of the house. Off with you now.”
Ben touched his cap, turned and left, walking back down the hill toward his own house.
Feeling his serene morning had been fractured Matthew ascended the Manor steps and went back inside.
