Dismissing the Duke Read online

  Timothy wasn’t certain he should say anything. Even if not for Jimmy, did he really want to go and watch Miss Whitton fall in love and marry some titled lord? Wouldn’t it be easier to say goodbye now?

  “You’re a wonderful employer, sir. That is all you need to recommend yourself. There are only some very personal matters I need to consider first.”

  Gabriel gave him a knowing smile. “I do hope it ends in my favor. I’m not sure I’ll ever find a valet I like as much as you.”

  It was nice to know Gabriel returned his fondness and appreciated what Timothy did for him. This was what Jimmy was missing out on by sleeping till noon and devoting himself to only pleasurable pursuits. There was no greater feeling than that of being needed, in Timothy’s humble opinion. But Jimmy was Jimmy, and there was no changing his mind. The moment he’d received news of his inheritance from their great-great-uncle, he’d offered his notice to the viscount who’d employed him, and set up their comfortable little manor house on the outskirts of town.

  Timothy didn’t mind that at all. It was better than having to live in servants’ quarters. He was able to go home to his own bed every night, although he had to get up earlier than anyone else to ensure he arrived before the master awakened. Thankfully, Gabriel had a propensity to sleep late into the morning.

  “Will you go and see if John is ready with the carriage?” Gabriel asked once he was fully dressed.

  “My pleasure.” Timothy ducked out of the room, and made his way toward the stairs. He passed Leah and Esther’s room along the way and could hear their muffled voices through the door. He was half tempted to listen through the rather flimsy wood, but then thought better of it. If he were caught in such an act…

  He shook his head. No point even thinking of what people would say, or think, or do in that instance.

  Focused on the task at hand, he acquired word from John that the coach was indeed ready to depart whenever they were ready, and so Timothy doubled back, heading for Gabriel’s chambers once again. He was halfway down the corridor when the girls’ door flung open, setting his heart to racing again. Leah emerged first, smartly dressed in a dark green velvet gown that hugged her lanky body making her appear slightly less lanky than usual.

  She offered him a smile. “Evening, Hargood. Is John ready for us?”

  “Indeed, he is, Miss Leah.”

  Whirling about, she started to call for her sister, but Esther was already there, standing demurely in the doorway, looking the picture of beauty and elegance in a blue gown, the color of the evening sky, with tiny golden stripes running the length of the dress. Her dark hair was swept upon her head with matching gold ribbon weaved throughout. She stole his very last breath away, especially when her fathomless eyes met his.

  “Good evening, Hargood,” she said, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it sounded as though she struggled to get the words out.

  He bowed to her, and struggled just the same to utter his response. “To you as well, Miss Whitton.”

  “Oh, goodness, is there a party here in the corridor?” came a feminine voice from nearby.

  They all turned to find Sara Beth Millstone—now Sara Beth Whitton—coming towards them, the feathers in her hair bobbing enthusiastically with every step. This new life suited her just fine, Timothy thought. He’d never seen her so happy in all his years as her friend. He wasn’t certain if it was falling in love or finally learning to read—perhaps a bit of both—but she was so relaxed now, confident even, in a way she’d never been before.

  “Mrs. Whitton,” he said, offering a bow to her as well.

  She giggled. “Isn’t that ridiculous, you calling me Mrs. Whitton? Can we please break with tradition, Timothy? I can’t abide the formality with someone I’ve known since we were in leading strings.”

  “Perhaps, Sara Beth, when we are amongst close family, but I can’t imagine the duke will appreciate such casual forms of address between two people of such disparaging social statuses.”

  Sara Beth waved her hand about. “Hopefully, he won’t be around much longer to have a say in the matter,” she said, and then brought a hand to her mouth with a little gasp. “Oh, that’s not at all what I meant! I mean to say, hopefully we’ll be off to London soon, of course. Not that I want the duke to…you know…die.”

  “Not to worry,” Gabriel said, coming out of his own chamber. “The old man will never die, so I’d say you’re safe.”

  Sara Beth turned to her husband, the dreamy look of love in her eyes. “Do you really think he’s going to insist we head for London?”

  “Even if he doesn’t, I see no reason we can’t go of our own accord.”

  “Except you can’t leave Esther and me behind!” Leah put in rather emphatically.

  “Leah, you don’t need the duke to sponsor your season—Mother and Father are certainly prepared to do so themselves.” Gabriel offered his arm to Sara Beth, who took it without thought.

  “Mine perhaps, but what about Esther?”

  “What about me?” Esther asked, rearing back.

  “Well, you did say yourself that you’re getting long in the tooth. Perhaps Mother and Father have given up on you, as you’ve done yourself.”

  Esther spared a moment’s glance for Timothy, oddly enough, and then cast her eyes to the floor. “I didn’t say I’ve given up on myself,” she said quietly, if not a bit sadly.

  But Leah didn’t seem to notice the tone had changed. She merely shrugged her shoulders and turned on her heel. “Come. The duke doesn’t like to wait!”

  As Leah ran for the staircase, the rest of them hung back, a watchful eye on Esther. It was Sara Beth who finally released her husband’s arm and crossed the corridor to take Esther’s.

  “She’s so young yet, isn’t she?” Sara Beth said, leading Esther toward the staircase.

  Whatever was said after that, Timothy couldn’t hear, for they were too far away now. He turned to Gabriel, who rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  “Have I mentioned how lucky you are to only have a brother?”

  Timothy nodded. “On several occasions, sir.”

  And then Gabriel started off in the wake of his wife and sisters. “We shan’t be late, Timothy.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Chapter 4

  Danby Castle never failed to impress Esther, as many times as she’d been there now, even spent a month living there before they settled on letting a cottage for the rest of the winter. The towering steeple and looming spires would most likely always steal her breath when they turned down the drive.

  The carriage pulled to a stop under the grand archways and a slew of servants stood waiting to greet them.

  “Right this way,” Danby’s butler smiled, gesturing towards the doors as if they hadn’t gone through them a thousand times.

  He then led them to the smaller drawing room—the one reserved for small family gatherings—and announced them to Danby. Their great-uncle was an old man, but it didn’t stop him standing from his comfortable chair by the fire and bounding across the room to the greet them. He stood tall, towering above them like the spires on his home, but with a soft smile and kind eyes. He wasn’t always so gentle looking, but once one got the opportunity to know him—to know his heart—it was impossible to see him any other way.

  “Great-uncle!” Leah exclaimed, throwing herself into his arms and then just as quickly releasing him to greet the others. Esther shook her head at her reckless sister. She was far too eager for her own good.

  “Welcome, my child,” Danby said, and then turned to Gabriel and Sara Beth.

  “I trust married life is suiting both of you well?” he asked with a gleam in his light eyes.

  “Indeed, Your Grace,” Gabriel said, shaking the man’s hand while his wife’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red.

  Esther wanted to be happy for them—indeed, she was happy for them—she only wished for what they had. And while she was quite accustomed to Leah’s off-handed, unthinking comments, the one in the cor
ridor at the cottage had particularly stung her for some reason. Perhaps because it was true. With every passing day, she was getting older, less desirable, and soon she’d be officially on the shelf. A spinster, like Miss Gayle back home, poor dear. Heaven help her, she didn’t want to end up like Miss Gayle.

  “Is something troubling you, dear niece?” came her great-uncle’s soft gruff. He stood before her—the others having moved on to the sitting area. Goodness, she’d been so lost in thought, she hadn’t even noticed.

  Timothy Hargood’s face flashed in her mind’s eye, and she prayed the duke couldn’t see it there as well. What would he think of her, pining after a servant? He’d been amenable to marriages of different classes before, but never one with a servant that Esther could remember.

  She took a deep breath and forced a smile to her face. She didn’t want to burden the duke with her silly worries. “Of course not, Uncle. All is quite well, actually. It does seem that spring is in the offing, doesn’t it? I can hardly wait for winter to be over.”

  Danby narrowed his eyes on her. He was smarter than the average man—surely he knew she was overcompensating for a melancholy heart. But he was too gentlemanly to call her out in front of everyone. “Indeed. I feel the same way. It will be nice to stroll through the gardens again without my toes going numb.”

  “I look forward to accompanying you on occasion, if I may.”

  Her great-uncle paused with a curious smile on his face, then he winked at her, and said, “We’ll see,” before walking away.

  Esther knew that statement didn’t mean he didn’t want her to walk through the gardens with him, but rather that they wouldn’t be here for her to do so. Spring was coming, and one way or another, she’d be leaving Yorkshire. She knew that for certain now. But that thought caused a painful twisting in her heart, especially when she thought of her encounter with Timothy that afternoon. How he’d been so close, so gentle. How she’d wanted him to kiss her.

  Blast it all, she was supposed to be the composed, unflappable, practical one! All this melancholy and flights of fancy ought to be left to Leah. Everyone expected that of her. Not of Esther; never of Esther.

  “Dinner is served,” the butler announced a moment later, and they all made their way next door to the dining room.

  The table was laid out with the finest china and crystal, crisp white linens and shiny silver. Candles were aglow, though they were mostly for show, since great-uncle had recently had gas lamps installed in the room—a rather new invention that only the richest of the rich could afford.

  Esther took her usual place at the table, the others did the same, and then dinner was set into motion. Soup first, then an array of meats, cheeses, vegetables…some of Esther’s favorites. And yet, her stomach churned at the thought of putting anything past her lips. The uneasiness of her situation settled over her, covering her like a wet blanket.

  “Esther, whatever is the matter with you?” Leah asked in her not-so-discreet way from beside her. “You look unwell.”

  Esther took a deep breath and forced yet another smile to her face that evening as she batted her lashes at her sister. “No, no. Just lost in thought,” she lied, wishing desperately that she could run from the room and be alone for a while. But that was not an option.

  “Well, while you’re attention is back with us,” Danby said in his booming baritone. “I think this is a good time to tell you all that I’m sending you to London for the Season.”

  It wasn’t a surprise to any of them, but they all feigned excitement anyhow. Although, when it came to Sara Beth, she was surely not feigning anything. Her sister-in-law had never stepped foot outside Yorkshire, and now she’d be entering London society as Mrs. Gabriel Whitton—she’d be well received and have the time of her life.

  Leah looked pleased at the news, though Esther feared her younger sibling would still spend her evenings clutching the wall, waiting for a dance. If only she would straighten her spine and hold her tongue. Neither of those seemed likely. Though what she lacked in propriety, she made up for in confidence. She had that in droves. Perhaps there was a man out there who would appreciate that about her. One could only hope.

  Esther glanced up at her great-uncle, who winked at her in return, as if to say, “Now you know why you can’t wander the gardens with me in spring.” She offered a demur smile and slight nod of her head. Her way of saying thank you without actually saying the words. For she wasn’t entirely grateful for the sponsorship. Or maybe she was. She couldn’t be certain. So many thoughts and emotions flooded her brain, and more frustratingly, her heart. She prided herself on being pragmatic, sensible, always having her wits about her. And here she was, torn over a valet. The fact that he didn’t have to be a valet played over and over in her mind, helping her to justify her growing fondness for the man. But then, wasn’t it worse that he chose a life of servitude when he didn’t have to? Why choose something so horribly binding and oppressive when he could choose to open a shop or even a pub? It boggled the mind.

  “Madam LaMott will be by early tomorrow to begin…” Great-uncle waved his hand about. “Whatever preparations it is you ladies require.”

  Esther couldn’t help but laugh. Poor man was clearly uncomfortable speaking of ladies’ clothing, when he knew full well that undergarments would be part of those requirements. “Thank you, Great Uncle,” she said. “We are most grateful.”

  “Indeed, Your Grace,” Sara Beth chimed in. “I hope I don’t appear too eager, but I’m simply beside myself with excitement.”

  “As you should be,” Gabriel said, patting his wife’s hand.

  “You’ll be able to depart as soon as Madam LaMott is ready with the girls’ wardrobes.”

  Gabriel laughed. “So eager you are to get rid of us.”

  The duke raised his eyebrows and shifted his eyes to Esther and then Leah, then back to Gabriel. “Not you, dear nephew.”

  “Are we such an imposition, Your Grace?” Leah asked, though she knew just as well as Esther did why their great uncle meant to send them on their way.

  It was rude of Leah to ask such a question of Danby, for what if the answer truly was yes? “We understand, Uncle,” Esther said. “And we are ever so grateful you allowed us to stay this long in the cottage.”

  “It’s not the cottage I’m worried about.”

  Esther’s skin heated under the duke’s pointed gaze. It was her he was worried about. Not Leah, not Gabriel or Sara Beth. Her. Esther Whitton, future spinster. But she didn’t want to go to London and simply make a match with some stranger with a good name and overflowing coffers. She hated that it was expected of her to do so. Why, she was starting to resent her very upbringing, her life, even! How could she not, when practically her every thought led her back to Timothy Hargood?

  “Well, ladies, I think your tea awaits you next door,” their great-uncle said, gently suggesting they leave him and Gabriel to their cigars.

  Esther was more than happy to depart. She only wished she didn’t have to wait around for tea and cigars, though. She very much wanted to be at home, alone, in her bed, crying herself to sleep.

  Sara Beth stood first, and then Leah and Esther followed her from the room. They settled on the comfortable sofas by the fire in the drawing room, and Sara Beth took it upon herself to pour the tea. She was positively brimming with excitement and chattered on and on about what London was going to be like and all the things she wanted to do there.

  “Have you been to the menagerie?” she asked between sips of tea. “Shall we all go together? Oh, it will be so fun. I’ve never seen a lion before.”

  “They have an elephant too, and sometimes you can see him parading about outside the exchange!” Leah chimed in. “Oh, and the monkeys are quite entertaining.”

  “What’s your favorite animal, Esther?” asked Sara Beth.

  Esther glanced up. She hated to spoil the excitement, but she rather despised the menagerie. It smelled awful, and the animals…well, they didn’t seem thrilled to h
ave been plucked from their homes for the amusements of the aristocracy. Every time she dared to look into one of the animals’ eyes, Esther regretted it. “Erm, the birds, I suppose.” There. That was a safe enough response.

  “The birds?” Leah scoffed. “But they’ve so many more interesting animals! The hippopotamus, the rhinoceros! Birds are awfully commonplace comparatively.”

  “Well, it’s what I like, and it isn’t terribly polite to insult someone else’s taste, Leah.”

  “It also isn’t polite to deliver propriety lessons to your sister in public,” Leah bit out, the rancor in her voice taking Esther aback.

  Esther blinked rapidly at her sister. “I hardly think this would be considered a public setting,” she defended, though she knew it was a loose excuse.

  Leah seethed at her from across the little round table. Blast, she’d really ruined the moment, hadn’t she?

  “Poor Sara Beth,” Esther tittered, trying to make light of the moment. “She must be wondering what it’s going to be like having to deal with two bickering sisters in London. Come, Leah, let us calm our tempers and be reasonable.”

  But her sister clearly wasn’t interested in trying to make Sara Beth feel comfortable. Instead, she stood from her seat and slowly walked toward Esther, her eyes boring into her the entire time. It made Esther’s insides churn. Her sister was bold and brazen, but up until this moment she’d only ever rolled her eyes or scoffed at Esther’s gentle reminders of propriety. By the look of mutiny in her Danby-blue eyes, this was going to be different.

  “You won’t end up a lonely old spinster for your looks or even your age, Esther,” she said in the calmest voice Esther had ever heard from her. “You’ll end up a lonely old spinster because you are positively unbearable to be with.”

  And then, without so much as a by your leave, Leah left the room. Esther wasn’t certain where her sister would go—the library, perhaps?—but it was more than clear that she didn’t want to be here. With her unbearable sister.

  Silence fell over the room, following the click of the latch on the door, and the acerbic words her sister had spoken finally started to take root in Esther’s mind. A horrible, sinking feeling forced her stomach inward, and she feared the pressure might send what little food she’d eaten for dinner back out the way it’d gone in.