Duke of Disgrace (Dukes of Destiny Book 3) Page 5

  “Grand!” said Daniel. He nudged Drew’s arm with his shoulder. “We won’t have to study our Latin.”

  “Today,” said Robert. “You won’t have to study your Latin, today.”

  Drew sighed and started for the stairs before his brother, who lingered and scowled at his father.

  “If the wind changes, it will get stuck that way,” said Robert, smiling.

  “There’s no wind indoors,” mumbled Daniel.

  “Go,” said Maria gently.

  Once both of the boys had gone all the way upstairs and Margaret could hear their still high-pitched tones with Miss Masbeck’s lower ones—the woman’s voice she had heard earlier—she returned her attention to her friends.

  Lowering her voice, she said, “Now, I do not have the horses with me, of course. But Jeremy says you are welcome to come inspect them at any time. If not, he will have them sent here. He has always had an eye for horseflesh and I believe you will be very pleased. They are fine animals, and exceedingly gentle.”

  Mary’s eyes went round as saucers. “Horses?” she said. “Horses?”

  “Rose, go upstairs and rescue Miss Masbeck, if necessary,” said Maria to Mary’s governess. “The boys do tend to chatter, and I’d hate for her to get caught up in some strange conversation about whatever strikes their fancy when she could be enjoying her leisure time.”

  Rose dropped a curtsy, murmured, “Yes, your grace,” and hurried abovestairs.

  “When shall I have a horse, Papa?”

  They were walking through the right-hand side doors to the airy first parlor, Maria in the lead, then Margaret followed by Robert and Mary, who was enchanted by the thought of a horse that belonged only to her despite the fact that it was her brothers’ birthday and not hers.

  “You shall have a pony, first,” said Robert.

  Maria took her seat on the settee with cerulean upholstery and motioned that Margaret should sit next to her. Margaret settled herself next to Maria.

  “The twins didn’t, did they?” asked Mary.

  “They did. You weren’t here.”

  This was one of Margaret’s favorite rooms in the whole townhouse. It was exquisitely proportioned, neither too narrow nor too cavernous, and finished in a color scheme of calming blues and whites. Patiently, she waited until Mary had stopped scowling at her father while trying to understand how she couldn’t have been part of her own family.

  Presently, a maid brought a tea tray laden with enough small pastries, biscuits and cakes to feed an army. They must have been requested for today by the boys.

  “Goodness me,” said Margaret, blinking. “I’d forgotten what it was like to be so young and still interested in this many sweets.”

  “I haven’t,” said Maria, shamming regret. “I shall have to order a whole new array of dresses at the rate I consume Cook’s cakes.” She chuckled at Mary’s open expression of disbelief.

  “Mama, you shan’t,” Mary insisted.

  With a wink at Margaret, Maria told her daughter, “We’ll see, pet… we’ll see…”

  The same maid left, then returned with a separate tray equipped with an actual tea service. Maria poured each of the adults a cup, then turned her attention to Margaret. “I am sorry for broaching the subject, but we were very much hoping Lord Hareden could be persuaded to join us.” Robert shot Maria a warning look. “There has been so much chatter of late and we worry for him.” Maria was not looking at her husband; she was gazing intently at Margaret.

  This has to be an allusion to the Harpy.

  Clever enough to read between the lines, Margaret accepted her teacup and said gamely, “Actually, he and I were just discussing this morning his need for a new secretary. It’s quite dire.”

  Robert hid a chuckle at Maria’s taken-aback expression. Margaret prided herself on being able to rouse it even after years of their acquaintance. Even if she inferred that Maria was obliquely referencing chatter about Lady Hareden, she would not discuss that right this instant.

  “A secretary?” echoed Maria. Evidently, it was not what she was expecting to hear, but what else was Margaret supposed to say when the twins might be bursting in at any moment?

  “I would hazard a guess,” said Robert, “that you don’t want it to be someone from the estate for the obvious reason of a possible conflict of interest?” He sipped his tea, then handed Mary a small biscuit she was eyeing.

  “That, we had not discussed.”

  “Then take it as a friendly piece of advice and less of a question.”

  “Do you have anyone you could recommend?”

  Robert tilted his head slightly in thought. “I’m sure I could think of—”

  “My dear,” said Maria abruptly, as though she had just thought of something brilliant, “this would be terribly unorthodox, but…”

  “‘Unorthodox’ often works so well for you, though. Go on.”

  Gone a little pink at the compliment, Maria said, “There is Miss Masbeck to think of, is there not?”

  He pressed his lips together, considering.

  Margaret thought, Think of for what?

  Off Margaret’s politely confused look, Robert explained, “It is not fitting talk for little ears, but our steward’s daughter recently came up against something terrible. And she is looking for employment, something that would take her away from our estate.” He glanced at Mary, who was happily eating the biscuit quite neatly for a child of her age, fairly oblivious to what was being said around her. “But she wishes to remain somewhat close to her family here in London.”

  Intrigued, Margaret wondered if they were actually suggesting a young woman take a secretary’s role—for a duke, no less. The Wenwoods were open-minded, but she did not take them to be foolhardy. Why, she had never heard of such a thing.

  And yet, the idea does not seem so ludicrous. It is simply a matter of temperament, is it not, that would make a person a good secretary? Women did seem to be entering professions that her generation would never have dreamed of approaching.

  In the end, Margaret was not against these shifting tides. She merely felt as though she was past the time of life to benefit from them. Besides, she herself could never have considered having a trade. She had been raised with the expectation that she would become a wife to someone of a similar rank and run his household. And there was yet more to consider—more of the social ramifications of perceived impropriety that Jeremy himself had lamented several hours prior.

  “For the moment, we are allowing her to tutor Mary and occasionally the boys, as she is today—but she has said she has no desire to become a governess,” said Maria. She helped herself to a teacake.

  “Whatever happened to her, you must feel keenly about it,” said Margaret in a level tone. Both Maria and Robert were charitable people with more empathy than she had encountered in many of her set. It was unsurprising that they might offer help to a family member of an employee.

  “We do not feel at fault,” said Robert, “but we feel that we could have done more to prevent it.” His somber expression lifted into a smile. “I am not trying to be opaque… just…” He looked sidelong at Mary, who grinned at him, oblivious to the heavy conversation around her.

  “I understand. But what does this have to do with Jeremy needing a secretary?” asked Margaret bluntly.

  “Miss Masbeck is simply the calmest and most organized individual I have ever come across,” declared Maria.

  Robert apparently sensed that Margaret needed more to go on than the qualities of organized and calm, so he added, “Maria is right. But it would be unorthodox and even vulgar by some people’s measure for a man to have a woman as his secretary.”

  “But?” said Margaret. “I know that tone in your voice.”

  “But her father already uses her as a secretary of sorts,” said Maria, waving a hand as though to punctuate it. “She was speaking about it only a few days ago. He has been teaching her the family trade, so to speak. Why, after Robert called upon them at home—to sign a d
ocument that had been forgotten that week—he could not help but remark to me—”

  “Mr. Masbeck’s office made me jealous,” said Robert, not unkindly.

  “How so?”

  “It was immaculate.”

  “As it transpires,” said Maria, “that was Miss Masbeck’s handiwork. Mr. Masbeck said his daughter was responsible!” She paused to eat the last of her teacake. “I must admit that I was not so surprised when I thought of how she conducts herself with the twins…”

  With a small measure of wonder, Robert continued, “She not only keeps his office and files in order, she also schedules his appointments, she researches, sometimes greets visitors… Masbeck confided that he started using her when they were less better-off several years ago. He couldn’t afford a secretary. First, some of his colleagues were quite suspicious.”

  “At first?” Margaret was listening with interest.

  “Now that she has proven herself, they do not mind it in the least.” Robert sat back, stretching his legs slightly on the plush rug under their feet. “But I’d conjecture that still he keeps her from receiving just anyone. That could go over about as well as walking into a public ball naked, depending upon the man.” He shrugged. “I had never met her until recently. But Masbeck has been my steward for longer than we’ve known you.”

  “Perhaps you could meet her later this evening?” said Maria.

  The twins chose that moment to clamber into the room. Margaret closed her mouth, about to reply, and instead gave Maria a small nod.

  Daniel went eagerly for the tea tray and a piece of cake, while Drew marched up to his father and said, “Miss Masbeck said that we shall have to resume Latin tomorrow.”

  Knowing that her slightly raised eyebrows gave her surprise away, Margaret thought, Perhaps the girl is a regular bluestocking? She didn’t know how she quite felt about that, but maybe it was an accolade for a woman of a different class.

  Typically, her own friends and acquaintances were well-educated, but not in more arcane things. Latin seemed like an obscure thing for any young lady.

  “If one is learning a new language, even a dead language, one must practice,” said Maria.

  “If it is dead, why are we learning it?” Daniel said thickly, from around a bite of his cake. After he gulped it down, he added, “Surely it will not be useful.”

  Normally, the boys’ manners were better than they were today, but Margaret attributed it to excitement and a change in their routines. Neither their mother nor their father was frigid or cruel, but they insisted upon their children understanding the proper order of things. Like their parents’ approach to the idea of usefulness, this seemed to serve the dual purpose of teaching the children how to ingratiate themselves to others.

  “If you go into medicine, or the Classics…” said Robert, trailing off, invitingly, “it will become useful.”

  Drew chewed his lower lip. “That seems a very long way off.” He sounded nervous.

  Nodding, Daniel said, “I would much rather learn geography so that I can understand what the Frogs are doing. Well, where they’re doing it.”

  “Don’t call the French ‘Frogs’, Daniel,” said Robert, although he had to turn a laugh into a dry cough.

  “That is what today is about—well, one of the things I have thought about,” said Maria. “Soon, you’ll both be young men. One day, sooner than you think, you may be off for an education. Or perhaps someone will offer you a book and it will be most impressive that you can read it in its original form.”

  Doubtfully, Drew said, “I thought today was about sweets and presents.”

  Feeling wistful, Margaret thought back to Jeremy at ten years of age. He had been a solemn child. Very bright, but without much capriciousness and, thankfully, little interest in raising hell. The twins and even tiny Mary were as different from him as could be. He had been sociable enough, but preferred to ride his horse instead of seeking out human companionship. It had taken him a while to shed his nature, and it seemed that, in some ways, he had reverted back to his childhood manner.

  Mary all but squealed from where she was still perched near her father, “It is, you’re getting your own horses!”

  It is entirely amazing how loud she can be when she is excited, thought Margaret, amused rather than annoyed. She had wished for a daughter. As such, she tended to dote on Mary.

  Drew looked more jubilant than Margaret had ever seen him. “Truly?” He looked first at his mother, then his father, then last at Margaret, who smiled but allowed his parents to explain.

  “We spoke about it. Since Lord Hareden is keen on horses, we had him help find us a pair,” said Robert warmly. He glanced at his daughter. “It was meant to be a surprise. Though, truth be told, as soon as Mary heard about it, I doubt it would have remained one for long.”

  As she looked from its youngest member to the patriarch of the Wenwood family, Margaret realized, as though she’d been struck by lightning, that this atmosphere was what would suit Jeremy. Happy, energetic children and all. He was not like his father, that much was true, and though he was dutiful, there was often a faraway cast in his eyes that seemed to yearn for something more.

  She herself longed to know how she could help him find it.

  *

  It was not until after all three of the children had gone into the garden with their father that Maria summoned Miss Masbeck so that she could briefly meet Margaret. While it was not the time to conduct a proper interview, as the twins’ birthday dinner was yet to be served, Margaret wanted to see the young woman for herself and swiftly judge whether or not she might be worth considering. The Bowland dukedom carried such a complex and prodigious estate that Margaret doubted even most men would be up to the task of serving its master. It would be inevitable, even if Jeremy assiduously kept true matters of estate to himself, that some of them would influence his personal secretary’s duties.

  Although she was not skeptical of Miss Masbeck’s capabilities, the fact remained that she was currently supervised by her father. Acting on one’s own initiative and under the guidance of a duke would be a far different experience.

  Margaret did not fully expect a young lady would be up to the task.

  But then, she thought, again sitting in the first parlor, she does know Robert. She comes here to work.

  Not that Robert was strictly normal for the category.

  “I imagine she shall be here very shortly,” said Maria. “She is most likely in the library.”

  “Does she enjoy reading?”

  “Oh, very much.” A look of remorse and slight dismay crossed Maria’s face. “I think she prefers books to people at this point in time.”

  That was cryptic and not like Maria, thought Margaret. She said, “Can you not tell me a little of the circumstances? Her personal ones, I mean to say.”

  “I trust you fully,” said Maria, clearly thinking as she spoke, “but all I shall say is that Miss Masbeck was forcibly compromised by a man of the ton. In quite an unforgivable way. We believe that they must have first crossed paths nearby, or perhaps even in our home.” Maria scowled.

  “Heavens,” said Margaret, shaking her head. “That is not what I expected. And yet, I cannot be too surprised.” Dearest Paul would never do such a thing but, on occasion, she had overheard him telling Jeremy about some awful reprobate who’d had his way with a woman—the men’s equivalent of light gossip, she surmised.

  When Miss Masbeck entered the room, Margaret was impressed by her bearing and the manner in which she was dressed. Not a hair was out of place and her practical gown, the color of deep blue sea glass, was not at all creased. She was also quite pretty, though not young enough to be considered girlish. That was good, too, by Margaret’s measure.

  “Your grace?”

  Maria smiled and nodded to Margaret, who did not smile but did relax her expression somewhat. “We shall not keep you overlong, Miss Masbeck,” said Maria. “But I wanted you to meet Lady Margaret Hareden, Dowager Duchess of Bowl
and and a great friend of mine.”

  Miss Masbeck looked, for the slightest moment, stymied. But she curtsied to Margaret and murmured, “Your grace.”

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Masbeck. Lord and Lady Wenwood have told me about the work that you do for your father, and I was interested to see the woman who had impressed them.”

  “Thank you very much, your grace.”

  “It is possible that there may be a position in store for you.” As usual, it was Maria who smoothed the proceedings. Perhaps it was because of her personal familiarity with Miss Masbeck’s station, but she seemed to sense that the young woman was still flummoxed as to why a dowager duchess would be complimenting her.

  “A position?” Miss Masbeck’s eyebrows rose and although it appeared that she wanted to ask more specifically, she confined herself to polite surprise and did not say anything more. Margaret appreciated that. She did not mind curiosity as a trait in women. But Miss Masbeck’s restraint intimated that she would be able to navigate Jeremy and his sometimes addled mind. It was generally better to allow him to describe what he envisioned or wanted than it was to press him with questions.

  “Yes, Miss Masbeck,” said Margaret. “A clerical one.”

  “Ah, very good, your grace.” If Miss Masbeck was flustered, she did not show it at all.

  “We can speak more later,” suggested Maria, “after the children have been put to bed, perhaps?”

  “That is a prudent idea,” said Margaret.

  “I agree,” said Miss Masbeck with a chuckle, “for I wouldn’t want any of them interrupting something important. Begging your pardon, of course.”

  “No, you speak nothing but the truth,” said Maria. “Until this evening, Miss Masbeck?”

  “Of course,” said Miss Masbeck, addressing both women, “I look forward to it, your graces.” She quit the room with another curtsy, unable to keep an expression of curiosity from her face. Still, Margaret knew that many, if not most, young women would be impatient and possibly uncouth under the circumstances.