Discouraging the Duke by Alexa Aston

Chapter Nine

They returned to the stables and handed off their horses to Harris.

“I will be expecting a tour of the stables and an introduction to my horseflesh first thing after breakfast tomorrow,” Miles told the head groom.

“I am happy to oblige you, Your Grace. I think you will be pleased with what you find.”

“I plan to take Zeus out tomorrow,” he shared. “That is, if Miss Jenson thinks it is a good idea.”

“You are an excellent horseman, Your Grace. I believe you are adept enough to handle Zeus.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “However, if you bring an apple for him, he might take to you more quickly.”

“You are saying I should bribe Zeus?” he teased.

“No. Merely reward him for future good behavior.” She laughed merrily and, once more, Miles found himself drawn to her.

He hadn’t been around many women in his life. His mother had made herself scarce during his childhood and he had no sisters. Turner Academy housed only male students though he had grown close to Mrs. Nehemiah Turner and Mrs. Josiah Turner. Donovan had seen that Miles was introduced to the pleasures of the flesh during university and then Miles had engaged in bed sport occasionally while in Spain and Portugal while in the military with some of the locals or camp followers.

Still, something about Miss Jenson seemed different. Perhaps because she was so much taller than any woman of his acquaintance, just a couple of inches under six feet. It might be her engaging smile or those brown eyes rimmed in amber which drew him in. She certainly knew quite a bit about Wildwood and the running of an estate. He believed he could send her to any of his other properties and she would improve it and have it running splendidly in no time.

If he did, though, he wouldn’t have the pleasure of her company. For now, he was enticed by it—and all she could teach him.

“Shall we return to the house?” he asked, wanting to offer her his arm and then deciding he shouldn’t. Though she was a lady in his mind, Polite Society would not think of her as such. She was a servant. No, not even that, since she had told him she drew no wages from the estate. That would be something he would rectify immediately.

They set off and he said, “You have said you assist both your parents in their work. Why have you never received a salary for doing so?”

She halted, her features thoughtful. Finally, she said, “Mama and Papa have taught me all I know. They educated me themselves, in everything from languages to mathematics. When we came to Wildwood, I was twelve. They continued my studies but began sharing with me bits and pieces of their own duties on the estate. I gravitated toward certain things and they told me about how to accomplish those tasks.” She chuckled. “I would never have gone to His Grace—whether as a child or an adult—and ask to be paid.”

“You do a great deal about the estate,” he pointed out. “I insist you become a member of my staff. I will speak to . . .” His voice trailed off. “Whom would I speak to about putting you on my payroll?”

Miss Jenson laughed aloud. “That would be me, Your Grace. Whenever Mama hires a new household servant, I am informed and see that they receive their monthly wages.”

He smiled. “Then see yourself placed on my staff, Miss Jenson. And pay yourself fairly.”

She looked taken aback. “Oh, I cannot decide my worth, Your Grace. That is for you alone.”

“I have no idea what I am paying anyone, Miss Jenson. My cook. The footmen. Mr. Harris.”

“Then make that your first lesson, Your Grace. I will give you the ledgers and you may study what different positions pay and set my salary accordingly.”

“You are very quick in your thinking, Miss Jenson.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

They continued toward the house and he insisted they cut through the kitchens, telling her he wanted to check on the cake Cook promised to bake him.

“It’s right here, Your Grace,” she told him when he asked, showing him the three-tiered work of art.

“It looks just as it did . . . that day,” he said quietly.

“Yes, Your Grace. It was always your favorite. I have never forgotten.”

He looked to Miss Jenson. “You and your parents must come to dinner and have a piece of my cake. It is large enough that it needs to be shared.”

She looked at him as if his mind had fled. “That is not suitable, Your Grace.”

“Why not? I am the duke. I may invite to my dinner table whomever I please.”

She hesitated and then said, “I am afraid Her Grace would not approve.”

Her words struck him as hard as any physical blow might.

So, his mother was at Wildwood. She must have accompanied Ralph when he returned. She had witnessed not one funeral, but two. Still, she had not bothered to come and greet him, the new Duke of Winslow, when he arrived earlier today.

He had plenty to say to his mother. All of it unpleasant. He would not subject the Jenson family to that.

“I see. Then let us have a slice of cake now. Cook, you must join us.”

“Oh, no, Your Grace. I mustn’t. I am overseeing dinner preparations now. Her Grace would blister my ears if the meal arrived late.”

Determination filled him. “I am in charge now, Cook. Not the duchess. If I want dinner put off by a few minutes, then that is what will happen. Please, cut three slices of the cake for us and let us enjoy it together.”

He escorted Miss Jenson to the table he had sat at earlier with Cook and seated her. Soon, the three of them had plates of cake before them and cups of hot tea.

Miles took a bite and sighed. “This is heavenly, Cook.”

She thanked him and quickly ate her entire piece before he was able to take another bite.

“May I be excused, Your Grace? I do want to see to dinner.”

Not wanting to put undue stress upon her, he said, “Of course.”

Cook left and he took another bite, savoring the rich, sweet dessert.

Then he asked, “Is the duchess very irritable with the servants?”

Miss Jenson frowned. “It is not my place to judge Her Grace.”

That told him all he needed to know but he pressed her. “Please, Miss Jenson. I have spoken of honesty. I need to know the situation I am stepping into. I have been gone for fourteen years.”

She worried her plump, bottom lip, causing a surge of lust to ripple through him.

“Her Grace can be ill-tempered at times. Mind you, she is very rarely present at Wildwood. She spends the majority of her time in London. When here, though, she does find fault with everything around her.”

“Waspish,” he concluded. “It is how she was my entire childhood. Before I was sent away.”

Miss Jenson nodded. “That would describe her accurately.”

“Finish your cake, Miss Jenson. It is delicious, isn’t it?”

“Very much so, Your Grace.”

An idea came to Miles. He knew exactly what to do with his mother. He planned never to refer to her that way again. He certainly didn’t plan to have her stay under his roof.

“If I might excuse myself, Your Grace,” she said. “I need to see my father.”

“Do so, Miss Jenson. Thank you again for the excellent tour of the estate. You are quite knowledgeable. I am sure I will come to rely upon you a great deal.”

Her cheeks pinkened at his compliment. “Whatever you need, Your Grace.”

She started to leave and he said, “Wait.”

She turned. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“You do seem to know horses. Would you care to accompany me as I meet the animals in my stables?”

The corners of her mouth turned up. “That would be most agreeable.”

“Excellent. Come in your riding habit. I might wish to ride out afterward. If Zeus throws me on my arse, you can ride for help.”

Miss Jenson bit back a smile. “I will see you tomorrow morning then.”

“Yes. Eight o’clock?”

“That early?” she squeaked. “Oh, please forgive me.”

“You wish to go later?” he inquired.

“No, it is just that the household is not used to a duke who rises early.”

“This duke is a former military man. In my world, half the day had passed by the time eight o’clock arrived.”

She laughed again, the sound rich and deep, striking a chord within him.

“Eight o’clock at the stables,” she promised.

*

Miles strode towardthe drawing room, knowing that was where he would find his mother. He knew it customary for the duke and duchess, when in residence, to gather there before dinner for a sherry. She hadn’t bothered to greet him when he arrived but she would no longer be able to ignore him as she had when he was a child.

He entered the room and saw Thomas with a silver tray in hand, offering the duchess her wine.

“I don’t understand why you are doing this,” she said peevishly. “This is Sevill’s job. And why on earth are you dressed in that manner? It was as if you were the butler.”

“Mr. Trottmann is the butler,” Miles informed her as he crossed the room and lifted the second glass from the tray, taking a small, fortifying sip.

“I will inform you when dinner is ready, Your Grace,” Thomas said and exited the room.

He thought it must be the efficient Mrs. Jenson who had made sure Thomas no longer wore his footman’s livery and was now attired according to his position.

His mother frowned. Still not addressing him by name, she said, “Where is Sevill?”

“He no longer is employed here.”

Shock filled her face but she quickly recovered her composure. “I assume this is your doing.”

“It is. As the Duke of Winslow, I wish to have servants around me that can not only perform their tasks impeccably but also ones who hold my trust. Mr. Trottmann is certainly one of those.”

“Just because Sevill was Winslow’s faithful servant all those years didn’t mean you had to sack him,” she snapped.

“That is exactly why Sevill is no longer a part of Wildwood,” he stated firmly.

She waved a hand in the air. “I suppose you will be making all kinds of changes.”

“I may.”

“You shouldn’t,” she said flatly. “You have neither the knowledge nor the acumen to do so.”

Miles finished the sherry and set the glass aside. “I beg to differ with you, Madam. I received a first-rate education at Turner Academy, followed by earning my university degree from Cambridge. I have spent the past several years as an army officer, achieving the rank of captain and commanding a goodly number of troops. I had the respect of Lieutenant-General Wellesley and my fellow officers. While I might not have been raised to be the heir apparent, I possess the tools to learn how to fulfill my obligations.”

She sniffed and finished her drink.

“You would do well to stay on my good side, Madam,” he warned her.

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

“As Winslow, I am now head of the family and control the purse strings.”

“If you think to cut me off—”

“If I do cut you off, it will be because of your own actions,” he interrupted. “For now, I expect you to remove yourself from Wildwood and relocate to the dower house.”

She gasped. “You would toss me from my own home?”

“You mean my home?” He stared at her until she blinked and turned away. “I will one day bring a woman home to be my duchess. I have no plans of you being here, whispering in her ear, poisoning her. Tomorrow, you will go to the dower house until your mourning period is completed.”

“Mourning? But the Season is going on,” she complained.

Miles cleared his throat. “I can almost understand you not mourning Winslow. I don’t think the two of you ever got along and even as a boy, I understood that you lived separate lives. But your son has just passed. Surely, you wish to mourn him?”

“Ralph would not want me to bury myself in the country. He was a good, thoughtful son.”

He glared at her. “Ralph was a liar.”

Her mouth twitched in disgust. “You would say that.”

Stepping toward her, he bent until their noses almost touched. “Ralph shot Tony. He killed Tony.” He raised to his full height again. “I loved Tony with all my heart. I was a good brother to him. Ralph never loved anyone but himself. He was guilty of firing the bullet that ended Tony’s life. You know this. You feel it in your bones. You have simply ignored it all these years.”

She looked thunderstruck. “He couldn’t have.”

“He did. I even believe Ralph was drinking that day he led us into the study and pulled the pistol from the desk. Ralph murdered Tony.”

She shook her head violently. “I can’t believe that. I won’t. You are slandering Ralph’s good name.”

“Believe what you wish,” he said dismissively. “I don’t care. I only know Ralph slandered my name and reputation.”

“The truth will come out about what you did,” she hissed. “Winslow hid it from others.”

“Winslow was as blind as you are to Ralph’s shortcomings.” He stepped toward her again and she shrank back, intimidated by his size. “You will go to the dower house until this time next year and mourn your losses. Only then will I allow you to go to London, where you will live in a rented house.”

Her jaw dropped. “I won’t live in my townhouse?”

“No. It is my townhouse. Again, I do not want a viper such as you in my midst.”

Thomas entered the room at that moment. Miles shook his head and the new butler remained silent.

Recalling what Miss Jenson had said about his mother’s treatment of others, he added, “While you are living at the dower house, you will watch your tongue, Madam. You will treat your servants with kindness and respect. You will not complain. You will be the model of a true lady. If you can watch both your words and actions, then I will allow you to go to London next spring. Provide for your house. Pay for your gowns and servants.”

He paused and then said, “But if I hear that you have spoken of Tony’s death and placed the blame at my doorstep, I will cut you off completely.”

Her face grew red. “You wouldn’t dare!”

He laughed harshly. “I can do whatever I want, Madam. I am the Duke of Winslow.”

She began wringing her hands, her agitation clear. “You would do this to your mother?” she asked meekly.

“You may have given birth to me but as far as I am concerned, I have no mother.” He looked to Thomas. “Please inform Mrs. Jenson that Her Grace will be moving to the dower house tomorrow. See that it is cleaned and aired and that an adequate number of servants staff it. I will speak to those who serve there. If Her Grace acts spitefully to any of them, they are to report the incident to me at once.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Thomas said.

He turned to his mother. “It would serve you well to act and speak with your future in mind. Behave properly and you may continue to live in the manner you are accustomed to. You will be polite and gracious when we meet in society. You will spread no gossip about me, my future wife, or our children. In return, I will see you are cared for.”

Miles looked expectantly at Thomas, who said, “Dinner is served, Your Grace.”

“Very good.” He offered his arm to the woman who stood in stunned silence. “Shall we?”

Reluctantly, she placed her hand on his sleeve.

“Do you understand everything we have spoken of this evening? You have no questions?”

“None,” she said stiffly.

For some reason, Miles needed her to address him correctly and said, “That would be none, Your Grace. Or none, Winslow.”

Her expression grew pained but she managed to say, “None, Winslow.”

“Excellent. I am glad that we had this conversation and that you are clear about your role.”

He led her from the room and as they reached the dining room, she halted.

“I believe I have lost my appetite, Winslow.”

“Then you may be excused to your room. Have a pleasant evening.”

Alone now, Miles entered the small dining room. Thomas himself seated Miles. He saw something in the butler’s face which looked like approval.

As their gazes met, he told Thomas, “Speak freely. You have something to say, perhaps?”

The butler bit back a smile. “Only that it is most apparent that things at Wildwood will be changing.” After a brief pause, Thomas added, “For the better.”

Miles nodded, glad that his butler approved. “That is my intention. Know that if you have anything you wish to discuss with me regarding the staff and my household, I am always more than willing to hear what you have to say. In fact, I encourage you and anyone in my employ to do the same.

“Very good, Your Grace. I will make your wishes known.” Thomas beamed at Miles. “It seems good times are coming to Wildwood.” The butler bowed his head in recognition and then stepped away to supervise the footmen.

One footman poured wine for him as another placed the soup course before him. He thanked them and began to eat.

He had resented his mother for so many years. A small part of him, that little boy who longed for acceptance, had hoped upon his return to Wildwood that they might actually reconcile. He understood now that would never come to pass and accepted it. The Duchess of Winslow would not be a part of his future.

In time, a new Duchess of Winslow would take her place—and Miles would build a much different kind of family from the one he came from.