Discouraging the Duke by Alexa Aston

Chapter Ten

Emery handed her father his hat and said, “We must get you up to the main house, Papa.”

He placed it on his head and walked out the front door of their cottage, looking around as if in a daze. She realized he didn’t know where to go and her heart grew heavy.

Slipping her hand through his arm, she said, “I will walk with you.”

She escorted him to his office and made sure he was seated behind his desk. Opening a few ledgers, she said, “Your task is to look over these today. Can you do that?”

He nodded, a vague look on his face, and then asked, “Where will you be?”

“I am going to the stables with His Grace to look over his stock and then I believe we are going to ride out and see more of Wildwood today.”

Papa snorted. “He is getting too old to get on a horse.”

She placed a hand over his. “No, Papa, His Grace passed away recently. His son is now Winslow.” She avoided mentioning the son in-between who had only been the duke for a week. No sense in confusing Papa any more than he already was.

“That one is trouble,” Papa murmured.

Emery’s heart skipped a beat. “You know of His Grace?” she asked carefully. “How he left here as a young boy?”

He shook his head. “He is a bad sort. You would do well to avoid him, Emery.”

“Why? What did he do to see him banished from his own home?” she asked.

But her father’s gaze fell to the page before him and he turned it, perusing figures that no longer meant anything to him.

“I will see you this afternoon,” she told him and slipped from the room.

Emery had never heard a word spoken about this son by any of the servants. Of course, they may have after her family first arrived and she hadn’t known to pay attention to what was being said. Perhaps Mama knew something about the duke and could tell her. She doubted it, though. Mama despised gossip and wouldn’t allow anyone in her presence to partake in it. Still, it would be worth the trouble of asking her. The mystery surrounding the new Duke of Winslow was too great.

She went to the kitchens and collected an apple from the storeroom, slipping it into the deep pockets of her riding skirt. Since she had time, she went to look in on her mother and found her inside her office.

“Ah, Emery, I am glad you stopped by.” Her mother picked up a sheet from the desk and handed it to her. “Will you have time today to drive into the village and place this order with Mr. Jernigan?”

“I will be out riding with His Grace, Mama. When I am done, I can go into Woodmorrow and deliver this list. If it is late, I will return tomorrow with the cart to pick everything up.”

She folded the list of supplies and placed it into her pocket.

“That will be fine, my darling. Will you be out long?”

“I am not certain. We are to meet with Mr. Harris in a few minutes and let His Grace see the horseflesh he owns. Afterward, we are to ride the estate again.” She hesitated a moment and then said, “Mama, do you know why His Grace left Wildwood so long ago?”

Before her mother could reply, Addy entered and said, “Mrs. Jenson, you are needed at once.”

“Very well, Addy.”

The maid apologized for interrupting them. Emery assured Addy that she was just leaving.

“We will speak later, Emery,” her mother said and left with the servant.

She wondered if her mother had any information or would simply warn her off from seeking any answers regarding His Grace.

Leaving the office, she cut through the kitchens and went out the door. Ahead of her, she saw the duke striding toward the stables. He wasn’t dressed in his regimental colors today. Instead, he wore a coat of midnight blue and tan breeches. The coat emphasized the broadness of his shoulders, while the tight breeches left little to the imagination. Winslow’s long, muscular legs drew her eyes, causing her heart to pound. It had done the same thing when he had placed her into the saddle yesterday and helped her from it. She had lain awake for hours last night, thinking of his touch and how much she wanted it.

Emery hurried after him, pushing the foolish thoughts from her mind. He was the Duke of Winslow, one of the most powerful men in all of England. He would wed a woman of charm and beauty, one with an immense dowry. Men such as Winslow weren’t meant for the likes of her.

It saddened her because it seemed no man was destined for her. While Emery knew everyone on the estate and many of those residing in the nearby village, she had no friends and hadn’t attracted any suitors. Because of her father being a gentleman, albeit an untitled one, she seemed stuck in a place between worlds. Servants and tenants were friendly to her but not her friends. None of the farmers or staff members at Wildwood would ever think to court her.

The same proved true in Woodmorrow. Everyone was kind to her but no male had ever looked at her longingly or flirted with her in the slightest. Many females of every class were already wed by Emery’s age of twenty-two, often with a child or two. Though she longed to find a husband and eagerly wanted children, she doubted that would ever occur. Even if she left Wildwood, as her mother had suggested, she would only be an upper servant in a household, once more hovering between worlds.

Sometimes it was lonely, having only Mama and Papa as her friends. Especially nowadays, with her father’s mental condition deteriorating, she delved more and more into work. With the new duke being so astute, hiding Papa’s weak state of mind should be her top priority—not daydreaming about a handsome peer who was far from her reach.

She reached the stables, where Winslow and Mr. Harris were in conversation. They paused and greeted her.

“I was telling His Grace that the finest horses in the stables all have the names of Greek gods,” the groom said. “Though many of your other horses are also good purchases, Your Grace. For instance, you have an excellent carriage team.”

“I am eager to meet them,” the duke said. He revealed an apple in his palm. “I brought the necessary bribery for Zeus,” he quipped. “I will wait and give it to him just before I ride out.”

“Don’t let any of the others see it,” she warned. “They will be hurt if you did not bring them any treats.”

He snorted. “I doubt horses get their feelings hurt.”

“And I am certain they can and do,” she said saucily. “Give it to me. I can place it in my pocket.”

The trio entered the stables. As they paused before each stall, Harris told the duke the name of the mare or stallion within and a bit about its temperament and history. Winslow insisted upon entering every stall, gliding his hands over the horse’s coat and checking everything from hooves to teeth to tails. Emery liked that he had a gentle hand and took his time with each one.

They arrived at Zeus’ stall and the horse immediately nudged the duke’s shoulder.

“He likes you,” Harris said, approval in his voice. “You always had a way with horses in your youth, Your Grace.”

Emery realized that Harris would most likely be able to solve the mystery of why this man had left Wildwood as a boy. She thought to ask him later when they had privacy.

Then she watched the duke as he stroked the horse, his handsome profile making her knees go weak. It was none of her business why he had been sent away. She tamped down her curiosity, deciding it was beneath her to go about digging into his private affairs.

They reached the last stall, where Athena stood. Emery entered before the two men arrived and pulled the apple she had brought from her pocket.

“Are you giving away my apple?” the duke chided, though she could tell he was teasing.

“I brought one for Athena. As you can see, she will foal soon.”

Winslow stepped inside the stall. “She is a beauty.” He ran his hands along her swollen sides. “Very fine lines. Who is the sire?”

“Zeus, Your Grace,” Harris responded.

“Then the foal will be magnificent. Zeus and Athena are an incredible pair,” Winslow declared.

Emery offered the apple to Athena, who nibbled at it daintily. “Don’t expect this from Zeus,” she said. “He will gobble his apple in a single bite.”

“You’re a good girl, Athena,” the duke told the mare. “Is this her first?”

“Yes,” she said. “She will soon be a dam.”

He turned to the groom. “Thank you for showing off the horses, Harris. We are well situated at Wildwood regarding horseflesh.” He paused. “Are there any mounts in London?”

“Some, Your Grace. A team which takes Her Grace about. A few horses for . . . that is, ones the previous duke rode. He spent a majority of his time in London and only rarely visited Wildwood.”

“Did Ralph live with my mother in the townhouse there?”

“I believe he did, Your Grace.” The groom looked uncomfortable being questioned about the previous duke.

“Well, have Zeus saddled for me.” He turned to her. “Miss Jenson, will you accompany me again?”

“If you wish, Your Grace,” she replied.

“Then saddle a mount for Miss Jenson, as well,” the duke instructed.

“Will Demeter do today, Miss Jenson?” Harris asked.

“Yes, thank you.”

She accompanied the duke outside to wait for their horses and said, “I have composed a list of duties that I have taken over for my parents,” she informed him. “Mama and Papa will also create their own lists and we can present these to you by tomorrow morning.”

“It seems the Jensons are a very efficient family,” he remarked.

“We are conscious of always doing our best for the estate,” she said evenly, trying to still the giddiness in her belly as she inhaled the scent of sandalwood on his skin.

Stepping away, Emery turned as if she were looking out on the day instead of trying to deliberately put space between them.

“It is a fine day.”

“Any day when I cannot hear the screams of dying men or smell their blood running into the earth is a good day,” he said abruptly.

She wheeled, taken aback by his words.

“I am sorry, Miss Jenson,” he apologized. “It has been a long time since I was in the presence of a lady. Too many years at war have made me cynical and my manners uncouth.”

“I am no lady, Your Grace,” she reminded him. “Merely a servant. A paid one—if you can come up with what wages you wish to pay me.”

He closed the distance between them and her heart pounded against her ribs.

“You are a lady, Miss Jenson,” he told her, his gaze warm. “You are the daughter of a gentleman.”

“A gentleman who was a fourth son. One who had to make his way in the world with no help from his father. Papa worked as an assistant steward and steward on several estates before obtaining his position at Wildwood. He did not wed Mama until he was forty, wanting to be able to provide her with a decent living.”

“Your mother is a handsome woman and most impressive. I look forward to touring my home with her. Perhaps you would care to join us?”

This was getting ridiculous.

“Your Grace, you are a grown man. I believe you are more than capable of walking through your own house with your housekeeper without having me accompany you. I do have things to do, you know.”

“Yes, in order to earn that fabulous salary I plan to bestow upon you,” he said.

Emery burst out laughing.

“I like the sound of your laugh, Miss Jenson. It has been many years since I have heard laughter. War is no laughing matter.”

Before she could ask him about it, Harris and another groom brought their horses around.

“A hand, Mr. Harris?” she asked, wanting the groom to help her into the saddle.

He obliged and she took up Demeter’s reins, turning to see that Winslow stood before Zeus, talking quietly to the horse. Then he came to her and held out a hand.

“The apple, Miss Jenson?” he asked politely.

“Oh, of course, Your Grace.” She removed it from her pocket and handed it over. Their fingers brushed slightly against one another and Emery was grateful of the gloves they both wore.

The duke gave Zeus the apple and the horse downed it, chomping heartily and then spitting out the core.

“I told you he was greedy,” she said.

Winslow laughed. “You did not exaggerate.” He mounted and said, “Try and keep up, Miss Jenson. I plan to let Zeus show me what he can do.”

With that, duke and horse were gone.