Duke of Honor, page 6
He still found it hard to believe yet knew Radmore had no reason to lie to him regarding the woman’s skills.
“I see the doubt on your face, Your Grace. Suffice it to say that Lady Hadley is nothing short of a miracle worker. She taught His Grace as much as he taught her. She was a godsend.”
“I see. Well, she is to meet me in the library now.”
“She is?” asked Radmore, obviously puzzled.
“Yes. I stumbled across her as I made my way here. She was mending a fence.”
The butler laughed. “That is Lady Hadley. Always taking a personal interest in everything, leaving no stone unturned.” He paused. “Would you like to wash before you meet with her?”
Although he desperately wanted to get the dust of the road off him, he said, “No. I will see her first and then go to my room.”
“Lady Hadley had His Grace’s things cleared out, anticipating your arrival once Bonaparte was stopped in Belgium. The personal items you left behind have all been transferred to the duke’s rooms.”
“She did? It seems the lady thinks of everything.”
The butler chuckled. “Frankly, she does. She may be young in years but she is the wisest person I know,” Radmore said, his admiration for the woman obvious.
Sebastian handed his satchel over. “Please take this to my chambers. You may send hot water for a bath in an hour. I am sure my meeting with Lady Hadley will have concluded by then.”
“Very good, Your Grace.”
He headed upstairs to the library and entered it. The room had always been his favorite at Hardwell Hall and he had spent many hours poring over books and especially the atlas, wanting to go to far-off lands such as Egypt and India. Instead, his destination had been closer to home, where the ravages of war had sucked his soul dry. He moved about the room, fingers brushing against the leather-bound volumes, eyes wandering over the magnificent furniture and landscapes adorning the walls. The richness of the room overwhelmed him. After living in tents for almost ten years, being alone in such splendor caused his senses to reel. His quarters on Elba had been spartan after his time in the field. Returning to Hardwell Hall seemed like living in a palace. It astounded him that he had grown up in such surroundings—and taken them for granted.
Sebastian wondered if he would even be able to sleep in the duke’s quarters. Wellington had confided to him once they had been reunited in Belgium that he had yet to sleep in a regular bed, opting for a camp bed after all his nights spent in one. Sebastian wouldn’t mind a regular bed but the thought of sleeping where Hardwick once had left him with a bad taste in his mouth. Of course, as a wealthy duke, he could simply have the bed removed and burned and replace it with one of his choosing.
He moved to one of the large windows that overlooked the gardens. They were something he had missed. He had yearned to see the beauty of a fragile flower and inhale its sweet scent. He and the army had certainly trampled upon enough of them. Sebastian took a calming breath, one meant to center him.
“Your Grace?”
He turned and saw Lady Hadley had arrived, wearing the attire he knew she would. Her rich, auburn hair had been swept into a low chignon. With her manly attire, she shouldn’t look so desirable but what she wore made her seem even more feminine than most women in the fanciest of gowns. She came toward him, wearing an easy smile and air of confidence.
“I have asked Radmore for tea to be brought,” she said. “I thought we could spend some time discussing your father and the estate.”
“I have no need to hear anything more regarding Hardwick,” he said dismissively and took a seat.
She sat in a chair to his right. “Whether you wish to hear of him or not, you are going to. Quit acting like a petulant child.”
Her words echoed those of the duke’s on that last day before Sebastian left. He wondered if Hardwick had used the same phrase to describe his rebellious son.
The teacart arrived and Lady Hadley busied herself with pouring out. She did so gracefully, with an ease that spoke of generations of good breeding. He placed two sandwiches and a few sweets on his plate, his mouth salivating at seeing such delicious items. The food in the army was notoriously bad and at Elba it had been even worse, barely edible.
Lady Hadley handed him a cup and saucer. “I hope tea was a good choice. I didn’t know if you preferred coffee at this hour. You mentioned coffee several times in your letters.”
“You read my letters? They were not addressed to you.” He thought of all the times he had bared his soul—or what was left of it—in those letters. “You had no right to do so,” he said angrily.
Her face flamed. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I did so to try and get your father to read them.”
“Why would he bother to do so?”
“Why would you bother to write to him if you didn’t believe he would?” she fired back.
Sebastian took a sip of the hot brew, not trusting himself to speak. The flavor exploded in his mouth. Oh, how he had missed English tea and everything about his homeland.
“I apologize, Your Grace.” Lady Hadley looked at him earnestly. “But why did you write, knowing the pages wouldn’t be read?”
“Because I knew Hardwick. He was a cold, hard, unforgiving bastard.”
“He was . . . when I first arrived. The duke changed over time. Mellowed with the years, I daresay. He was quite proud of you and eagerly awaited news from you.” She sighed. “I tried to get him to respond but he refused.”
“Tigers don’t change their stripes, Lady Hadley.”
“I know you were estranged. I wasn’t apprised of the details.”
He snorted. “I would say more than estranged, my lady. We went for several years without a word between us.”
Shock filled her face. “I see. My father was . . . difficult, as well. I was close to Mama but he frightened me to no end. He was so old and impatient anytime I was around him, which thankfully wasn’t very frequent.”
“Pendell was a contemporary of the duke’s. Didn’t Hardwick seem old to you?”
“Yes, but he actually spoke to me. With me. My father never did so. You never answered me, Your Grace. Why did you write to your father?”
“Because it was what my mother would have wanted.” He could feel the locket against the skin of his chest, where it always rested. “And because it helped me survive.”
Curiosity filled those large, purple-blue eyes. “How so?”
“I poured my heart out in those letters,” he admitted. “Said things that I couldn’t say to my commanders and would never say to my men. The thoughts I expressed were private ones. I suppose writing them was like talking aloud to myself. Committing to paper my deepest fears. Somehow by writing of them, I could let them go. Those letters helped me keep my sanity. Find my courage.”
“They were wonderful,” she said, admiration obvious in her voice. “So detailed. I could see everything you wrote of. Your men. The battles. The tedious drills and sleepless nights. I breathed the air rife with the scent of cannon fire. Heard the moans of the dying.”
Lady Hadley shook her head. “You were so very brave, Sebastian.” She started. “I mean, Your Grace. Oh, I am sorry for sounding so familiar. I am a stranger to you. You know nothing of me and I seem to know everything about you. More than I ought to. I came to know you over the years, you see. Your letters showed me a different world. I felt as though . . . oh, I know this sounds foolish.” She swallowed. “I felt as if you were my friend. Someone I had always known and learned to grow close to over the years.”
His fingers tightened around the delicate cup’s handle and he set the saucer down, lest he break it.
“You see, I always wanted to reunite you and the duke. I saved the first letter you sent from being destroyed. I read it and kept it. Radmore continued bringing them to me at my request and I would mention things you wrote about to the duke. Finally, His Grace couldn’t stand it any longer and demanded to read the letters himself.”
“You saved them?” he asked hoarsely.
“Of course. I read them over and over again. I was a young girl, barely ten and three, and you were this great adventurer, showing me the world. His Grace read all of them and then as new ones came, he had me read them aloud to him. Several times until the next one arrived. We were quite worried when they stopped coming for a while since they arrived so regularly but we decided that in war, a few letters will go astray every now and then.”
He gripped his knees, his knuckles turning white. She talked of a time he had done his best to lock away.
And failed, miserably.
“I understand I should not have read them. I ask for your forgiveness.”
Sebastian saw her pained expression. “It is nothing to worry about, my lady.”
“I will return them to you.”
“No. Burn them. I have no intention of being drawn back into that time ever again.”
He took one of the sandwiches and bit ferociously into it, unnerved by their conversation. She ate daintily as he wolfed down everything on his plate and then set it aside.
“Would you like to talk of the estate now, Your Grace?”
“No. Instead, we should talk of your future.”
“My future?” she asked, seeming dazed. “Oh, of course. You will want me gone. I understand.” Her gaze fell to her lap.
Something in her tone seemed so bereft. He didn’t want to hurt this woman.
“You have done a great service to the Cooper family, Lady Hadley. I merely thought you would wish to get on with your life now that Hardwick is gone.”
“Yes, that is true.”
“How old are you now?”
“Two and twenty.”
“You should have had a London Season long ago,” he told her. “If you hadn’t been caring for my father and seeing to his responsibilities, you would be wed by now. You would have children.” He paused. “You do want those things, don’t you?”
“Yes. I was an only child and have no family left. I very much long to have a family of my own.”
“I plan to go to London tomorrow. I want to meet with my solicitor there and since no one has been at the London townhouse, I should check on it.”
“There is a staff in place,” she said, her eyes still lowered. “I thought the property should be maintained, whether it was being used or not. In fact, I rented it out. A place is better when lived in and not left standing lonely and idle.”
It was clever of her to have done so, generating income that way.
“I will check on what Lord Pendell left you and –”
“No need to do so, Your Grace. I have been in touch with your father’s solicitors and know my income. I was also left a dowry. If I am not wed by the time I reach twenty-five, that will be mine to do with as I choose.”
“Surely, you will wed before then, Lady Hadley.”
Finally, she raised her head, her steady gaze meeting his. “Perhaps.”
“I intend to gift you with one of the estate’s unentailed properties. Since you are familiar with them, you may choose the one you wish to own.”
Astonishment filled her face. “That is not necessary, Your Grace.”
“I believe it is, my lady. You put your life on hold to care for a sick, old man. You should be rewarded for your good deed.”
She pushed to her feet, anger sparking in her eyes. “I did what I did out of kindness, not expecting any type of reward. I am sorry, Your Grace, but I will accept no gifts from you.”
He stood. “I will leave for London in the morning and discuss my financial situation while I am there. I will ask that a solicitor accompany me home to meet with you regarding your affairs. At that time, you may bring me up to date on everything at Hardwell Hall.”
Her jaw tightened. “Very well. Once I do so, I will then leave and you may have your home all to yourself.”
“I don’t wish to rush you, my lady.”
She assessed him. “But you do want me gone. That is clear. I understand, Your Grace. Good day.”
Sebastian watched her walk away, the temptation of her lovely rump swaying back and forth doing odd things to his insides. It would be better for her to be gone. She was headstrong and knew far too much about him for comfort. The sooner she left Hardwell Hall, the better. She could go to London and place herself on the Marriage Mart and find some willing lord to make her his responsibility. He could be the one to tell her to dress appropriately and make her behave properly. Kiss those plump, rosy lips and give her half a dozen children.
The thought should appease Sebastian yet, for some reason, the idea of Lady Hadley kissing anyone bothered him a great deal.
Chapter Six
Sebastian saw no reason to wait and decided to leave for London immediately. His feelings were mixed about Lady Hadley and he felt he needed to get away. He went to what was now his chambers where the bath awaited him, a luxury he had been looking forward to for longer than he could remember. It felt heavenly to sink into the hot water. He scrubbed away the grime, wishing he could wash away all the ugliness, both within and without. He refused to look at his marred limbs, staring off in the distance as he ran the soap over them. He was aware, though, as his fingers skimmed his chest of all of the multitude of scars from that time of torture. He squeezed his eyes shut, hearing his screams, finding his heart racing uncontrollably.
“Get a grip, man,” he ordered himself.
Miraculously, the vision receded until only blackness was left. His heartbeat slowed. The memories had been pushed away, once more under lock and key. For how long, Sebastian never knew.
He finished bathing and rinsed, standing quickly to towel off. Locating his satchel, he removed the razor and shaved before dressing in his fresh shirt and placing the rest of his uniform back on. Going downstairs, he found Radmore.
“I am leaving for London and cannot say when I shall return. I want to take the carriage. Please have it readied for me immediately.”
“At once, Your Grace,” the butler said, his face a blank, reserving judgment.
Sebastian went outside, wishing to avoid seeing Lady Hadley again and waited in front of Hardwell Hall until the carriage was brought around. The driver was new to him, and he introduced himself. He made a split decision that before traveling to London, he would journey to see Jon. Blackstone Manor was only ten miles away, slightly out of his way, but he hoped he would find Jon there. He explained to Thomas where to head and then climbed inside the vehicle.
There was a possibility Jon and his bride were still in London. The Season wouldn’t be over for a week or two by his estimate but he needed to see his friend desperately. Jon might be a rake but he was a loyal, steadfast friend. Sebastian badly needed to see a friend now.
He watched the passing scenery, almost numb to it, wondering if he would ever fit in again in England and the life he had left behind. War had scarred his body. His mind. His soul. He might never escape from the nightmares of it.
The carriage came to a halt and Sebastian threw the door open. He saw Roy, Jon’s butler, hurrying to greet him.
“My goodness! Your Grace, it is so very good to see you again after so long a time.”
“Hello, Roy. Might the duke and duchess be home?”
“They certainly are, Your Grace. Lady Elizabeth, too.”
Suddenly, a voice cried out, “Sebastian!” and he saw his old friend racing toward him, wearing a huge grin on his face.
Jon threw his arms around Sebastian and pounded his back heartily “My God, when did you get home?” Jon asked.
“Today, actually,” Sebastian said. “I took a chance to see if you might be home.”
“I am. We are.” Jon turned and Sebastian saw two women approaching them.
He recognized Elizabeth, though the skinny, awkward girl had turned into quite the beauty. She, too, embraced him.
“Your Grace, it is so very good to have you back on English soil. You do remember me? I am Elizabeth, Jon’s sister.”
“How could I forget the tomboy who could skim rocks across the pond so well? Do you still like to do that, my lady?”
She grinned. “Very much so, Your Grace. In fact, if you stay, I will challenge you to a contest and we will see who can skim stones the best. But you must meet my new sister-in-law.”
Elizabeth turned and the blond angel that had accompanied her stepped forward.
Jon quickly said, “This is Arabella, my duchess.”
Sebastian heard the emotion behind the words Jon spoke. He bowed over the new duchess’ hand and said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.”
She smiled warmly. “It is an honor to meet a war hero of your stature, Your Grace. But please, call me Arabella. I know you are dear to my husband and I hope that we will see much of you since our estates are so close together.”
“I hope for the same, Arabella,” he said. “Please, call me Sebastian.”
“Won’t you come inside?” she asked.
“I would like that very much.”
He went into the familiar residence. Very little had changed, giving him a feeling of comfort. They went to the drawing room and Arabella asked Sebastian if he would like tea.
“No, thank you. I only want to stay a few minutes. I am actually on my way to London now.”
“London? But you just got home,” Jon complained.
“I want to meet with my solicitors and get a clear picture of my finances,” he said.
“Well, I have heard your estate is thriving. It’s said to be in excellent order,” Jon said.
“Oh. So you know about Lady Hadley,” Sebastian noted.
“I know of her but have yet to meet her.”
“Truly? But you live so close.”
His friend frowned. “I know what Hardwick did to you, Sebastian. I wasn’t going to be overly friendly to him once you left and I assumed my responsibilities here. Frankly, I have spent most of my year in London, only returning to Dorset for brief periods of time. That will change now.”
