Ducal Encounters 01 - At the Duke's Discretion (22 page)

She had not been lost in very pleasant recollections of Lord Amos’s heady demands for more than five minutes, before the back door opened. She shuddered, knowing it would be Reece come to annoy her. He did not usually show himself at such an early hour. Presumably, the importance of the task she had been ordered to perform for his horrible masters meant she would have to endure his presence indefinitely until the commission was complete.

“Good morning,” he said.

Crista continued to work upon the repair to a delicate seed pearl necklace she was undertaking for an old lady in the village and made no reply.

“What are you doing?” he demanded to know, moving close to peer over her shoulder.

“You are in my light.”

“And you did not answer my question.”

He sounded angry and short-tempered. She glanced up at features pinched with anger. What had she done to overset him this time? Not that she especially cared. She certainly did not intend to ask.

“A repair,” she said shortly.

“You have not started the settings for the diamonds?”

“I shall commence them when this is done. Not before.”

He grasped her shoulder so hard she cried out and dropped the necklace. “Enough! You will not play games with me. You are not with your fancy friends now.”

Ah, so that what this was about, Crista thought. He had seen her at the Park yesterday sitting with the ladies, and did not approve. She was pleased to have annoyed him, but was also a little afraid of his intense anger. Not that she would ever show it.

“Remove your hand,” she said in a mordent tone. “I warned you once before, never to touch me again.”

Before she could reach for a weapon, he released her.

“You turn your pert little nose up at me, yet flaunt yourself in front of the Sheridans.” He sneered at her. “They will use you and cast you aside.”

“And you will not?”

“I have already told you. Throw your lot in with me, and we will make a killing.”

Crista tossed her head, put the finishing touches to her repair, and wearily reached for the drawings for the diamond jewellery.

“I do not like you, Mr. Reece. I do not approve of what you stand for and the people you work for. I want nothing from you, other than never to see you again.”

“You will change your tune once your rich lover tires of you and passes you over.”

Crista spread the drawings over her bench, completely ignoring Reece.

“Do you need the diamonds yet?” he asked.

“No. I shall not need them for several days. I must make the settings first and have no wish to handle those ostentatious stones before it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Don’t let me prevent you from starting work on the settings.” He settled himself on a bench by the window and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You are preventing me by sitting there blocking the light. Go and find something else to do and leave me in peace. I can’t concentrate with you looming over me.”

“I am perfectly comfortable here, thank you. I don’t trust you, Miss Brooke, and intend to keep a close eye on you until this commission is finished.”

“Just so long as I don’t have to see you again once it is, then I suppose I shall have to make the best of things.”

Amos was heartily relieved he had chosen to drive the barouche himself, making it impossible for Mrs. Brooke and her ambitious daughter to plague him with questions and flattery while they were on the road. The moment they stopped at posting inns to change horses that situation altered. When driving up to London alone, he felt no necessity to linger at these establishments. With two ladies in his care, he was obliged to offer them refreshment at each stop, and they always accepted. That necessitated hiring a private room, which took time he could ill-afford to waste.

“Are all of your brothers at Winchester Park, Lord Amos?” Mrs. Brooke asked during their final stop.

Amos confirmed that they were.

“Do you entertain much?” Amelia asked.

“We just had a large party to celebrate the duchess’s birthday. We have no further entertainments planned at present. We live quietly when in the country.”

“Ah, so we will become a part of your family circle.” Mrs. Brooke’s eyes gleamed at the prospect. “That will give us all an opportunity to become better acquainted.”

“I regret to disappoint you, but you and Miss Brooke will not be staying at the Park.”

Mrs. Brooke looked horrified. “I hope you do not expect us to stay with Mr. Chesney. He and I do not see eye to eye.”

Amos wasn’t surprised. “Alternative arrangements have been made for you, madam. You will be quite comfortable.”

“What arrangements, Lord Amos?”

“Come, the horses are ready,” Amos replied. Glancing through the window he was pleased to see the team he had left at this inn the previous day again harnessed to the barouche, stamping their feet, impatient to be off. Amos empathised. “I don’t want them to get cold.”

The sun was low in the sky when Amos drove the carriage to the door of Farrington House. He wasn’t surprised to see Zach emerge from the house at Lady St. John’s side, laughing at something she had just said to him. Zach was very tight-lipped about his amorous ambitions, even with his brothers. He was especially careful not to put himself into situations that could be misinterpreted−such as this one, and that gave Amos pause. Lady St. John was a widow, so he supposed that put a different complexion upon matters, but even so.

Amos raised a hand in greeting, which Zach acknowledged in similar fashion. He halted his team, jumped down from the box seat, and helped his passengers to alight. Mrs. Brooke looked up at the honey-coloured façade of the pretty manor house, shown to its best advantage by the backdrop of the lowering sun. It was a fraction of the size of Winchester Park but a great deal finer than her previous lodgings in Chelsea. Even so, Amos was sure he noticed her wrinkle her nose in disappointment.

“Come,” Amos said. “Let me introduce you to your hostess.”

“Is that gentleman his grace?” Mrs. Brooke asked, reviving at the sight of Zach.

“Yes, indeed it is.”

“Oh my goodness, we are honoured. Stand up straight, Amelia, and prepare to meet a duke.”

With the introductions made, Lady St. John fell effortlessly into the role of charming hostess.

“You must be exhausted, Mrs. Brooke,” she said sympathetically. “Travelling these days quite takes it out of one. However, I am so very glad you were able to accept my invitation. Now come inside, I will have you shown to your rooms, and when you have revived yourselves, we shall have a light supper.”

“You ought to marry that woman, Zach,” Amos said as they stood together and watched Lady St. John effortlessly organise Mrs. Brooke and her daughter. “You could do a lot worse.”

“I don’t aim to marry anyone,” Zach replied. “I shall leave the marrying and begetting of heirs to you and my other brothers.”

“Sounds like dereliction of duty to me,” Amos grunted, circling his arms to restore some feeling into them after hours of controlling four lively horses.

Zach laughed. “Very likely.”

They walked into the drawing room, where Lady St. John soon joined them.

“If I had realised quite what we were asking you to take on,” Amos told her, “I would not have allowed you to be so inconvenienced.”

Lady St. John laughed. “Don’t worry. I have met women like Mrs. Brooke before and know precisely how to handle her. Besides, having her here makes me feel useful. I dare say she is anxious to see Miss Brooke and satisfy herself that her elder daughter is in good health.”

“Actually,” Amos replied, grinding his jaw as he accepted with a nod of thanks the snifter of excellent brandy Lady St. John handed to him, “she has not once mentioned her name the entire day.”

“Given what we know about her, I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me.”

“Well, they are here now, out of harm’s way, which ought to relieve Miss Brooke’s anxiety.” Zach turned his attention to Lady St. John. “Don’t forget, your guests need to remain here on your estate. Under no circumstances can they be seen in either village. Please ensure they understand that.”

She sent Zach a teasing smile. “I am a very efficient gaoler. If I take an interest in a person, he or she does not easily escape.”

“I cannot imagine anyone being foolish enough to want to,” Zach replied, holding her gaze for longer than was strictly necessary. Amos grinned. His brother, for all his denials, was definitely interested in their lively new neighbour.

“That is because I seldom settle my interest upon anyone who is foolish.”

“I am perfectly sure you do not.” Zach laughed. “Come along, Amos. Let’s escape while we can, before the ladies come back down and detain us.”

“That is precisely what they intend to do.” Lady St. John’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “I heard Mrs. Brooke telling her daughter to change into her best gown, and to make haste about it. I am sure it is not
me
she hopes to impress.”

“God save us!”

Zach swallowed down his drink, Amos followed his example, and they took their leave of Lady St. John. Amos did so quickly, keen for a hot bath and a decent meal. Zach lingered over her hand for longer than politeness dictated.

“We shall call tomorrow and see how things are going,” Zach told her. “But if you have any difficulties, send word and one of us will come immediately.”

“If Mrs. Brooke remembers that she actually has another daughter,” Amos added. “Please tell her I shall bring Crista to see her tomorrow evening.”

***

I wonder if Amos has returned yet, Crista thought, leaning back from her work, massaging the small of her back and sighing with pleasure when an expansive stretch eased her aching muscles. Even if he had, she could not expect to see him that evening. He must be exhausted. If the drive had not worn him down, her mother and sister surely would have.

“Is something amiss?”

Damnation, Reece simply would not let her be. Every time she looked up, she felt the heavy weight of his gaze upon her, monitoring every move she made. As though he would know if she did something she ought not to. Even so, his presence was unnerving, and she heartily wished he would take himself off somewhere. She did not say so, nor did she reply to his question. She simply pretended he did not exist.

Crista was surprised how difficult she found it to work slowly, giving Lord Romsey the time he needed to put his part of the plan into effect. She laboured over every precise shape and dimension, frequently referring to the drawings, even though she did not need to. She had already committed the design to memory. Her uncle came and went between the workshop and the shop itself, sharing her frustration over Reece’s constant presence. They had discussed it the night before over their evening meal.

“You make him nervous,” Uncle Charles told her. “He senses your frustration with your situation and is worried you will sabotage the design in some way.”

Crista flashed an impish smile. “If only he knew.”

“Thank heavens, he does not. He is only being more vigilant than usual because of the value of the gems, and possibly because he senses some slight differences in our attitude towards him.” The sparkle had returned to Uncle Charles’s eyes now that he was on the brink of restoring his reputation. It was a joy to behold, especially since Crista could tell he was enjoying himself more than he had for years. “Fortunately, he cannot know what has caused the change, so just stay strong, my love. This will soon all be over with, and we can be ourselves again.”

Yes, Crista thought, that would be a cause for rejoicing, if she knew who she was supposed to be. Not only did she no longer recognise herself, but she also didn’t have any real idea what she planned to do with her life without her father in it to guide her. She had always assumed she would work beside him. Now, she would have to make her way alone. Uncle Charles deserved his retirement, and she would not discuss her future with him for fear he might think she was hinting at remaining in Shawford. She knew that was not possible, even if whomever he sold the business to was willing to employ her. She could not risk being where she might come upon Amos unexpectedly, or worse, see him in company with the lady he settled upon as a wife.

She sat a little straighter and let out a strangled little gasp.

“Is something wrong, my dear?” Uncle Charles asked.

“No, Uncle, nothing.”

She took a hasty sip of water, pretending to have a bite of food lodged in her throat. But what was actually lodged there would be far harder to remove. The reason for the heavy weight dragging her down, in the vicinity of her heart, had just occurred to Crista. Dear God, what a fool she was! She was supposed to be the level-headed member of her family, but against every vestige of good sense she had fallen deeply and passionately in love with Amos.

This time it was a bitter little laugh that slipped past her guard, while tears of regret threatened to flood her eyes. Realising she had taken leaves of her senses helped strengthen her resolve. The moment this was over she would return to London. She had a little money of her own saved and she would use it to establish herself in lodgings. Then she would trawl around the jewellers she knew, find honest work for herself, lose herself in it, and soon forget her moment’s madness.

Yes, that was absolutely what she would do.

Amos must be back by now, Crista thought as she packed away her things at the end of the third day and thankfully watched Reece disappear out the back door. She took herself upstairs and changed into a gown for once, brushing her hair out before dining with Uncle Charles. He raised a brow but made no comment about the change in her routine. Crista was usually too weary to change out of her boy’s clothing. Her uncle understood and did not stand on ceremony.

“I must face Mama,” she said by way of explanation.

“Ah, of course.”

As soon as their meal was over, Crista excused herself.

“Would you like me to come with you?”

“No, Uncle, I would not inflict that torture upon you.”

Uncle Charles chuckled. “I had a feeling you might prefer to go alone.”