Discouraging the Duke by Alexa Aston

Chapter Thirteen

Miles climbed atop Zeus and simply rode as fast as he could. He did so because with a horse such as Zeus, it would take every bit of his concentration to manage the beast.

And that would prevent him from thinking.

Finally, he slowed his mount and began walking Zeus, allowing the horse to cool down. As he did, he reflected on what had happened with Emery.

He had spoken the truth to her. About Tony’s death. Not in any detail, but he had wanted her to know of his innocence, especially after their encounter with the elder Jernigan. How passionately she had come to Miles’ defense, dressing down the shop owner.

And how very passionately she had kissed him.

Miles knew immediately that Emery had little experience with kissing but she hadn’t held back. She had kissed him with enthusiasm—and the desire she had admitted she felt for him. There were no games with Miss Emery Jenson. She was blunt in her speech and knew her own mind.

He wanted to know more of her mind—and that body.

It bothered him that she had mentioned Ralph’s unwanted attention to her. Even now, anger filled him, thinking his older brother had tried to take advantage of one as good and sweet as Emery. Ralph always acted entitled because he was. Miles was delighted Emery had stood up to the bastard. Of course, if Ralph had lived, it would probably have cost her parents their positions at Wildwood. A duke—and Ralph, in particular—would not have accepted being turned down, much less in the manner Miles believed Emery would have acted.

He didn’t want her to think he was cut from the same cloth as Ralph. Even if they were brothers. What he did know was she needed time to cool down. Reflect upon what had occurred between them. And then see how very right it was. Emery only thought the kisses between them had ended today. He knew better.

Miles had found his duchess.

He realized she would take some convincing. He would have to back off a bit before he began pursuing her—but pursue her he would. She was a woman of many qualities which he admired. True, he had only scratched the surface of what made her so special but, in time, he would help her realize that, together, they could build something very special at Wildwood. More than anything, he wanted a family far different from the one he had been a member of. A woman such as Emery Jenson would bring new blood to the Notley line. Their daughters would be spirited and their sons confident without abusing their power.

He had time. All the time in the world. Moreover, Miles had determination. He would win Emery over to his way of thinking. He would prove he was different than Ralph. Miles didn’t want her to think he tried to take advantage of her. Too many times, titled gentlemen did that very thing with servants. He didn’t regard Emery as a servant, though. He saw her as an equal. A wife who could help him become a better duke than any Winslow before him. Already, he admired her and was inspired by what he had seen on the property. He had some new ideas for the land and wanted a partner to help him achieve them.

He wanted her. No other woman would do. The Turner Terrors would probably laugh at his tenacity, having only known Emery a short while. Still, he had always been one to know his mind. His resolve to make her his duchess wouldn’t change.

He returned to the stables, where Harris met him.

“What do you think of Zeus now, Your Grace?” the groom asked with a smile as Miles dismounted.

“That he was worth every farthing the duke paid for him.” He stroked the horse’s neck. “I am in awe of possessing such a creature.”

He claimed the basket he had looped over the saddle horn and took the sticky buns straight to the kitchens.

“Cook, I have brought you a gift from Mrs. Fisher’s bakery.”

Miles opened the basket to show her what it contained.

“Oh, Your Grace, you spoil me,” she said, her cheeks bright with color.

“You deserve it, Cook. Just remember to leave one for me. Also, Dr. Collier and his daughter are coming for tea this afternoon.”

“Very good, Your Grace. I will see they have a lovely tea.”

As he left the kitchens, he thought Cook and probably all his servants deserved an increase in their wages. He knew from what he had already seen that the house was sparkling and the stables well maintained. It would never have been something that would have occurred to his father, to fully compensate the servants surrounding him and reward them with yearly increases in pay. When he examined the salaries of those at Wildwood as he set Emery’s wages, he would see how much all his staff received and award them a hefty boost.

He sought out Mrs. Jenson, finding the housekeeper in her office.

“I wanted to inform you that I have guests coming for tea today, Mrs. Jenson. The local doctor and his daughter.”

“Thank you for letting me know, Your Grace. Did you run across them during your ride?”

“Actually, I had your daughter take me into Woodmorrow. She introduced me to various townspeople.”

The woman smiled. “Emery does know everyone in these parts. I believe she has a finger in every pie.”

“Miss Jenson has already taught me much—and let me know I have quite a bit more to learn.”

“Oh, dear. I hope she wasn’t too blunt. Her father and I have given her latitude as she has matured. She has been of great assistance to both of us, her father, in particular. He says it would be impossible to manage the estate without Emery’s help.”

“Yes, I have come to realize that in my short time at Wildwood. In fact, I offered to place Miss Jenson on my staff because of all the work she does about the estate.” He laughed. “She could probably run Wildwood on her own with no help from anyone else from what I have seen.”

Mrs. Jenson smiled. “Mr. Jenson and I are so proud of her. She has grown into a very capable young woman.” She paused. “I have encouraged her to leave the estate, however.”

Her words were a physical blow to him. “Why?”

“Country life is all she has ever known, Your Grace. We have provided her with a good education. She would make for an excellent governess or lady’s companion.”

Miles hid his dismay at this idea and said, “No, I forbid that, Mrs. Jenson. Your daughter is essential to the running of Wildwood. I won’t let a good employee traipse off to tend to whiny brats or doddering old women. She would be powerless if she took a position as either a governess or companion. Here, she can make decisions and see the results of them.”

“I see.” The housekeeper studied him a moment. “Of course, it would be Emery’s decision. If she wants to leave and pursue another occupation, her father and I won’t prevent her from doing that.”

Miles swore to himself to do everything in his power to keep Emery on the estate.

“Might you have time now to give me a brief tour of the house?” he asked, taking their conversation in a different direction in order to help his sudden temper cool.

“Certainly, Your Grace.”

Mrs. Jenson led him through the house, pointing out items to him. Miles soaked up all she said and thought of a few changes he wished to make.

When they arrived at the duchess’ rooms, the housekeeper entered without knocking, causing him to ask, “Are these rooms empty now? She has already left for the dower house?”

“Yes, Your Grace. The dower house is in good order and I personally selected the servants to accompany Her Grace there. I was with Mr. Trottmann when he spoke to them.” She paused, assessing him a moment. “Frankly, I was surprised by the idea of you demanding they receive respect from Her Grace.”

“Respect for everyone is integral to good behavior,” he said. “Turner Academy taught me how to treat all well, not only those of my class.”

She gave an approving nod.

“I suppose Her Grace won’t be there long since the Season is in full swing and she never misses it. Even in mourning, she will be happier in London, I suppose.”

“No, Her Grace will remain at the dower house for the entire mourning period. She knows to act in a manner I have requested—else I will cut her off.”

Mrs. Jenson gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would, indeed. My schooling and military career have made me into the man I am, Mrs. Jenson. I am hopefully far better—and different—from previous Winslows. I will hold everyone around me to a higher standard. That includes Her Grace.”

She studied him. “Then I believe the dukedom and your people are fortunate to have you as the new duke.”

“The feeling is mutual, Mrs. Jenson. I know you are most efficient and I could not have a better housekeeper.”

“I will have the list of my duties that you require to you by tomorrow, Your Grace.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Miles told her. “I trust you to see to the running of the house without my interference.”

She bowed her head. “Thank you, Your Grace.” She paused and then said, “If I might be so outspoken as to also say that you elevating Thomas from head footman to butler was a very wise decision. He is well liked and pays attention to the smallest of details. Mr. Trottmann will make for a superb butler.”

“Thomas was kind to me as a boy. Even at my young age, I understood he always completed his job to the best of his abilities and had a ready smile for everyone.”

Mrs. Jenson nodded. “That has not changed, Your Grace. He will perform his new role with grace and efficiency. We must get you downstairs now. Dr. Collier and Miss Collier will be arriving shortly.”

As they left the duchess’ rooms, Miles said, “Thank you for the tour today, Mrs. Jenson. It was nice to see the house again. It has been many years since I was last here.”

“It is good to have you back where you belong,” she said.

“I suppose it is too late in the day to meet with Mr. Jenson,” he mused. “I regret not having spoken with him sooner. Perhaps I was putting it off. Much as I need to look over the ledgers and familiarize myself with them, I dread it. Numbers have never been my friend,” he joked.

“Emery is excellent with balancing numbers. She can walk you through them,” the housekeeper offered. “And you are correct. By the time tea is finished, my husband will have left for our cottage. I don’t know if you are aware but the cottage comes with his position as steward. I hope we will be able to keep it.”

“I don’t see why not,” he said. “As long as Mr. Jenson is my steward, it should belong to him and his family.”

He saw something flicker in her eyes and couldn’t put a name to it.

“Please inform Mr. Jenson that I plan to meet with him after breakfast tomorrow morning.”

They reached the landing and Thomas met them.

“Your guests have arrived for tea, Your Grace. I have placed them in the drawing room.

“Thank you, Trottmann,” he said, making a point to use Thomas’ surname, which would take some getting used to but was part of the way the butler should be addressed in front of both staff and visitors to Wildwood.

Miles excused himself and went to the drawing room, hoping to push aside thoughts of Emery as he entertained his guests.

*

Emery slid thefinal pin into her hair, trying to calm her nerves. Her mother had informed her that His Grace wanted to meet with Papa this morning. His moods proved mercurial, with no way to control them. She only hoped that today would be one of his good days.

As she prepared her father’s breakfast, she wondered how it would be to once more be in the duke’s presence. Why she had admitted an affection for him was beyond her. No, it was much more than that.

Emery had said she desired him.

She shuddered. That word had never left her lips before. In her mind, she would have defined the word as wishing for something, as in she desired for good weather or a new frock. That was before she had met the Duke of Winslow. She had been undeniably attracted to him from the start, else why would she have volunteered to take him about the estate? It was as if she had become a different person overnight—and that woman had admitted something that no woman should ever speak of to a man. He must think her a wanton, to go about telling a man—one far above her station—how she desired him.

And then kissed him.

That had been the most foolish thing she had ever done in her life. She was known for being rational and levelheaded. She didn’t go about kissing anyone, much less a duke.

He had seemed amused by it. By her. At least, afterward had seemed that way. During the time they had kissed, Winslow had been . . .

Emery sighed. She had absolutely no words to describe what he had been. What he had done. What she had done with him.

She would have to face him today, however. She needed to be present at His Grace’s meeting with Papa so she could smooth the way or even intervene if necessary. Yet her cheeks heated and her blood began singing at the thought of seeing the duke again. She was torn between wanting to flee Wildwood and fearful that her ill-mannered behavior would cause the duke to toss her from the estate for not wanting to dally with him, much as the previous duke would have done—had he lived to do so.

Somehow, she managed to get Papa’s egg properly poached and the tea made. She called him in to breakfast.

“Papa, we will be meeting with His Grace today.”

“Oh?” His attention returned to his egg.

“If you feel confused about anything, I will be happy to step in and clarify it for His Grace.”

He frowned. “Why would I be confused?” he asked testily.

Trying to smooth things over, she said, “I have been paying the bills lately. I just thought His Grace might asked you a question about those. If you don’t know the answer, it’s quite all right. He knows I have been helping you and Mama at Wildwood. In fact, he is going to begin awarding me wages. I will now earn a salary, just as you and Mama do.”

His features relaxed. “Why, that is wonderful, Emery. I am so proud of you.”

The rest of the meal went smoothly and Emery walked with him from their cottage to the main house. Papa sat behind his desk and she pulled out a few of the ledgers she thought the duke might want to peruse.

Moments later, she heard, “Good morning, Miss Jenson. And Mr. Jenson.”

Turning, she saw Miles standing there. No, His Grace. She mustn’t think of him in a personal way. He was her employer. A duke whose social circle was far above her own.

Dipping into a curtsey, she said, “Good morning, Your Grace. May I introduce you to my father, Mr. Jenson?”

Papa had stood and gave a stiff bow. The duke offered his hand and the two men shook.

“Please, take a seat, Miss Jenson,” Winslow encouraged. “You, too, Mr. Jenson. May I say you have raised a lovely daughter, Sir. Miss Jenson has been most helpful in my brief time at Wildwood.”

“You were here before,” Papa said. “Before we came.”

A shadow crossed the duke’s face. “Yes, I spent my very early years at Wildwood.”

“They say you killed your brother.”

Emery winced at the blunt statement.

“They are wrong,” the duke said.

“Oh? Good to know,” Papa replied as he began rearranging things on the desk.

Winslow turned to look at her and she said, “I have the list I promised you, Your Grace. The duties my father fulfills as steward of Wildwood.”

She located it and handed over the list, saying, “These are the tasks performed by my father and me. My mother should give you her list, as well.”

“Hmm.” His gaze lowered to the pages and he studied them for several minutes. Neither Emery nor her father said a word as he did so.

Finally, the duke nodded to himself and folded the pages, slipping them into his coat’s inner pocket.

“Thank you, Miss Jenson. It helps me to see what the two of you have been up to.” A teasing glint came into his eyes and she felt the blush spread across her cheeks.

Turning to her father, the duke said, “Tell me, Mr. Jenson, what is your favorite part of working here at Wildwood?”

Emery held her breath as her father contemplated the question.

“I like the people,” Papa finally said. “They are a good lot. Hardworking. Kind.”

“I am happy to hear that,” Winslow said. “I was close friends with Kit Munson when I was growing up.”

Papa nodded. “Munson is a good man and diligent worker.”

The duke asked a few other questions and she was thrilled that Papa seemed to know exactly where he was and that he was able to answer them.

“As to the ledgers,” the duke said, glancing at the ones stacked upon the desk.

“I pulled those,” she quickly said. “The ones I thought would give you the best overview of the estate. It may take you a while to look over them. Perhaps you wish to do so in your study, Your Grace,” she encouraged, not knowing how long her father’s current lucidity would last.

He rose and they did the same. Winslow picked up the ledgers. “I am afraid I am abysmal at numbers, unlike my school chum, Donovan. Your mother informed me you were quite skilled at them, Miss Jenson. Perhaps you might accompany me to my study and help me understand them.”

Dread filled her, mingled with an overwhelming joy. A veritable recipe for insanity, in her opinion. She didn’t want to be alone with him yet it was the very thing she wanted most in the world. Being alone with the duke might lead to another kiss. No. No kissing. She had to rid herself of these wild notions. If she kissed him again, he would think her of easy virtue. Dallying with a duke was not something any woman should do, especially one who was little more than a servant in the said duke’s household.

“Of course, Your Grace,” she said carefully.

“Shall we?”

Emery left the room and heard Winslow tell her father goodbye. At least the meeting had gone well. Papa had spoken a little hesitantly at times but rationally.

They arrived at the duke’s study and he rested the ledgers on his massive desk. She stood, waiting for an invitation on where she should sit. The duke retrieved a pencil from the desk drawer and gathered the ledgers again, crossing the room and sitting upon a settee.

Emery stood there, wondering if he meant her to sit beside him. That wouldn’t do at all. The settee was of normal size but Winslow was a large man, his shoulders so broad that they took up much more room than the average male’s would.

“Come, Emery. I am eager to explore these ledgers.”

“What did you call me?” she asked, her heart fluttering merely hearing her name come from his sensual lips.

“You know full well that I just called you Emery. I won’t do so when others are around. When we are alone, though, I will address you as I please. After all, am I not a duke? Don’t dukes do as they please?”

She stood there, speechless. Finding her voice, she said, “We aren’t going to be alone, Your Grace.”

“Then how am I ever going to understand what is in these books?”

“You seem quite intelligent to me. You will figure it out.” She began moving backward toward the door.

“Emery, please stop.”

She did.

“Thank you.”

He studied her a long moment, causing her to tremble. She stood her ground, though.

Finally, he said, “Yes, eventually I might make heads or tails of them. It would be so much easier if you explained things to me. You have a way of clarifying things, such as how you explained crop rotation to me. I could have read books and pamphlets about it and eventually understood. It would be much easier, though, for you to tell me the essence of what I needed to know.” He sighed. “I have so much to learn. Anything that can be done to facilitate that process would be helpful. Now, come sit.”

Her feet moved of their own accord and she joined him on the settee. It was as she thought. He took up a good majority of it. She perched on the edge, not daring to breathe.

“Lean back. I wish to open this rather large book and need your lap to help support it.”

Reluctantly, she did so and the duke set all but the top ledger onto the floor. He opened it and placed it in both his and her laps and bent his head, frowning at the page.

“Why so many columns?” he asked, sounding perplexed.

Emery began explaining the system she had set up. Though she was incredibly aware of the length of his side pressing against hers and the scent of sandalwood surrounding her, she was in her element. She turned the pages, pointing out the various things she thought he ought to become familiar with.

After an hour, they had gone through the three ledgers and he said, “I have a great appreciation for what you do. I am merely glad you—and your father—are the ones doing it. Numbers are distinctly unfriendly, in my opinion.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Numbers need no interpretation. They are straightforward. They hide nothing.”

“Unlike people?” he asked. “I have known those who have hidden from the world behind an invisible mask, not letting others in. Or those who act one way in public and vastly different in private.”

“You may come to appreciate columns of figures, Your Grace,” she said teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. His eyes had grown distant and she believed he must be speaking of his older brother.

“Thank you for what you shared with me yesterday,” she said.

“Our kiss?” he asked.

Her face flamed. “No. I meant telling me about what happened to your younger brother. I am sorry there are those who believe you were the one to accidentally shoot him and not your older brother who did so.”

“It wasn’t an accident.”

Emery frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Ralph deliberately pulled the pistol’s trigger,” he revealed, looking at her steadily.

She bit her lip, her mind not comprehending his words.

“Ralph aimed at me. Tony jumped in the way. And died because of it.”

She heard the bitterness in his words even as her head reeled.

“I was the one meant to protect Tony—yet he died protecting me.”

The hurt in his eyes led her to cup his cheek. Her palm heated as she touched his face, smooth from his morning shave.

“I am so sorry, Miles,” she said softly.

His hand took hers, removing it from his face. He turned it palm up and tenderly kissed its center, causing a rush of warmth to flood her.

“There are times I am afraid I will forget what Tony looked like. I can never bring him back.”

“I can,” Emery said, rising. “Wait here.”