The Doxy and the Duke by Caroline Lee

Chapter 9

His rideto Fangfoss Manor had been frantic and heart-pounding. Part of him had known Matthew had been taken, and the rest of him had been trying to drown out that certainty with the hope that his son had merely run away to be with his closest friend.

Now it appeared as if neither of those scenarios was true, and while he still didn’t have answers, at least he was feeling calmer.

And that was completely due to the woman who currently had her arms wrapped around him.

His gelding had been waiting patiently for him beside Fangfoss Manor’s front steps, and as he’d hurried out with Raina at his side, she’d surprised him by heading for the animal instead of for the stables, or ordering a carriage to be brought around. When Cash had hesitated, she’d cocked her head at him.

“This laddie looks strong enough to carry us both swiftly, aye? Unless ye want to waste the time waiting for another to be saddled for me?”

It was the hint of challenge in her voice which convinced him. If she was going to doubt him—or his horse—then, by God, he’d show her!

But when he offered her his hand, and she swung up behind him and settled against him, her breasts pressed against his back and her arms looping around him, he wondered who the loser was in this scenario.

Certainly not him.

So, yes. This strange calmness which had settled over his shoulders, despite not knowing where Matthew was, was all thanks to Raina and the way her cheek was pressed against his back as the gelding galloped for Cashingham.

He was a duke, for God’s sake, not some stable lad! He wasn’t supposed to run pell-mell across his land, especially with a lady—an earl’s daughter specifically—perched behind him wearing naught but a walking gown!

But on the other hand, he wasn’t supposed to take time each day to go swimming with his heir and the woman who made him feel happy.

And he damn well wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her.

But Cash was smart enough—and brave enough—to admit that’s exactly what had happened.

He’d gone and fallen in love with Lady Raina Prince, and her adorable, invigorating, frustrating son.

Instead of alarm, the acceptance—because it was a conclusion he’d been working toward over the last few days, ever since she’d left him alone in the garden last Friday eve—settled around him like a warm cloak, as comforting as her arms.

He loved Raina.

He loved her freedom, her informality, her joy. He loved the way she lived her life unapologetically, and he wanted to do that too, not just with her, but he wanted to be part of the life she lived. He wanted her in his bed, aye, but more than that.

He wanted to sit across from her at breakfast and argue about the latest edition of the Times. He wanted her on his arm, shocking all of Society with her outspoken support of worthy causes. He wanted her in his arms as they took their lads swimming and fishing and riding, and all the things normal, non-ducal fathers did with their children.

He wanted her to remind him how to be Cash, the man, instead of Cashingham, the duke.

But not Adolphus.

The thought had him smiling as he pulled the gelding to a stop in front of the portico at Cashingham, and when he swung her down, she noticed.

Her brow twitched upward. “Ye’re looking pleased?”

He didn’t release her hand. “I’ve come to a rather important realization.”

Her expression softened, and she squeezed his hand. “That we’ll find the lads? We will, ye ken. They’re safe.”

Her certainty made him accept this, even without knowing where Matthew and Ewan were.

“You’re right,” he murmured as he tugged her up the front steps. “They’re in here somewhere. I’m just sorry…”

“What?” she prompted when he trailed off.

He pulled her to a stop before the grand entrance and exhaled as he tilted his head back to stare up at the grand edifice, which his forefathers had built to be imposing.

“This isn’t how I’d imagined showing you Cashingham the first time,” he said softly, his lips quirking ruefully.

“Och, aye? So ye had plans?”

“Raina,” he sighed, finally meeting her eyes, “I had all sorts of plans.”

“I remember.”

I was going to ask you to be my mistress.

I would’ve agreed.

The words hammered in his memory, as they had so often over the last days. At first, he’d been certain her response had been the reason why he couldn’t form any further connection with her. But now he was beginning to realize the challenge in those words—I would’ve agreed—were what made him love her.

Society would consider her the wrong kind of duchess.

But he didn’t give a fig.

He loved her because she was the wrong kind of duchess.

No. She’s exactly the right kind of duchess. For me.

Before he could say more, the front door swung open, his butler looking more than a little relieved. The older man stepped out of the way as Cash pulled Raina inside.

“Your Grace, I believe Mrs. Simms has found a new clue.”

Cash nodded, the reminder of his son’s current predicament dragging his attention away from future possibilities. He hoped the butler’s announcement meant Raina’s theory was correct, and the lads really were at Cashingham. “Upstairs?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Your Grace. He was surrounded by people who knew him as the Duke of Cashingham, but Raina had called him, “Yer Grease.” The thought had him smiling as the pair of them hurried—her hand still in his—up the stairs.

“Your Grace!” His plump housekeeper waved as she hurried toward him. “Oh, Your Grace. Thank goodness—” She skidded to a stop and cocked her head at him. “Are you feeling well? Did you find the poor lad?”

He realized she was referring to his smile. Was he really that somber of a man?

He squeezed Raina’s hand, knowing anyone who could call him DisGrace during an argument was someone who would always make him smile.

“We haven’t found him, but we have some new clues. As do you, so I’ve been told?”

Mrs. Simms nodded hurriedly and thrust a hand into her apron pocket. When she pulled out what appeared to be a cigarette case, Raina made a relieved sound and dropped his hand to reach for it.

The housekeeper took a startled step back, but Raina snatched the case from her unresisting fingers. “This is Melanie’s. I’m sure of it!”

Cash stepped up beside her to stare down at the colorful enameled case in her palm. “Melanie?” he murmured; his head bent until it almost touched hers.

“Miss Melanie Pennypacker,” she elaborated, and Cash thought quickly.

“The American?” He’d danced with her several weeks ago, as he recalled, and she’d tried to press him into joining her in some kind of business venture.

A grin tugged at Raina’s lips as she met his eyes. “Who else but Melanie would purchase a cigarette case enameled with a scene of a cowboy roping a steer?”

He allowed his fingertip to skim over the detailed scene. “It’s very much something that would appeal to a curious young lad, is it not?”

If Ewan had been the one stealing all these little items, it was obvious why he’d taken this one.

Raina gave a relieved sigh before jerking her attention back to Mrs. Simms. “Where did ye find this?”

The housekeeper was glancing between the pair of them, as if startled to be addressed by a lady she hadn’t been introduced to. But when Cash made no attempt to correct the situation, she blinked and pointed. “On—on the way up to the third floor.”

The servants’ quarters!

“Come,” Cash barked.

Raina barely had time to slip the case into the pocket of her dress before Cash took her hand and pulled her toward the small staircase at the end of the corridor.

Together, they thundered up the stairs, but at the top, Cash pulled to a stop. Here, the hallway was smaller and the doors closer together. Faces—maids and footmen, dragooned into the search—stopped to peer at him.

“Have you found anything else?” he almost shouted; sure they’d understand what he was referring to.

Heads were shaking in denial when one young maid spoke up from the other end of the corridor.

“Here, Your Grace.” She lifted a pair of spectacles. “I found these—”

Raina pulled him down the corridor. “They dinnae belong to anyone here?”

The young maid tried to curtsey and hand Raina the spectacles all at once, and ended up tipping sideways before Cash righted her. It was obvious she was flustered over how odd it was for a strange lady like Raina to be wandering around the servants’ quarters at Cashingham.

With the duke himself, for that matter.

Raina was peering at the spectacles, and the maid shook her head, attempting another curtsey. “No, milady, Your Grace. I asked, and no one recognizes them.”

“I cannae be certain,” Raina muttered, “but I believe these are Olive’s. She mentioned Ewan filching a pair from her.” She took a deep breath and looked up. “Show us where ye found these, and call off the hunt.”

Cash’s brows rose. “Explain,” he demanded.

“Do ye no’ see?” Raina rounded on him, waving the spectacles as if they’d help make her point. “Ewan stole the cigarette case from Melanie, the hat from Dorset, and these spectacles from Olive!”

He reached for her, turning her to face him with his hands on her upper arms. “What does that have to do with the hunt for the lads?”

“If the pair of them are together, up to something…”

She blew out a breath and shook her head, and for the first time, he noticed her hair had come out of its simple coiffure sometime on the ride to his estate. No wonder the butler and housekeeper had stared at her in such surprise! But Cash didn’t mind. He much preferred her looking like this to that ghastly, wonderful picture of a lady she’d presented at Friday’s ball.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“If they’re up to something, something to do with these things Ewan’s been stealing, then these things were left for us to find. Matthew is a bright lad, Cash. He’d ken I’d be able to recognize the things Ewan has stolen.”

His grip tightened briefly on her upper arm as he understood what she was saying, then softened as he exhaled. “You mean, our lads have set up an elaborate treasure hunt for us? We’re supposed to follow the clues until we find them?”

Her smile was rueful as she nodded. “Does that no’ sound like something they’d do? I’m sorry they put ye through such trouble.”

He suspected she meant, I’m sorry you had to come and find me, but he wasn’t certain if that was because she didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, or if…

God help him, going around in circles like this was going to give him a headache!

“Excuse me, milady?” The timid little maid spoke up, and when Cash and Raina turned, she shrank back. Swallowing, she asked, “Your—your son? Is he a young, tow-headed lad, perhaps four or five years old?”

As they both nodded in excitement, the maid glanced between them. “I’ve seen him with Lord Matthew several times playing up here. I—I thought he was a village lad, or belonged to one of the servants.” Of course, someone as young and as new as this girl wouldn’t know all the other servants’ business as well as the housekeeper might. “When they see me, they duck out of sight, but I didn’t think they were doing any harm, so I didn’t tell—”

Since she was becoming emotional, Cash patted the air in an attempt to calm her. “It will be fine. I’m glad the pair of them have had time to play.”

Raina huffed, which might’ve been a laugh. “And I’m pleased to ken where that naughty lad has been running off to! Do ye ken he’s been allowing me to think he’s with his nurse, while his nurse thinks he’s with me? We had nae idea how often it’s happened, but the lad’s been coming here? All the way to Cashingham?”

He took her hand once more. “Matthew likely helped him.”

“Och, aye.” She rolled her eyes. “This also explains the fort Ewan was going on about weeks ago. How long have they been planning this?”

The little maid was clearly lost. “Planning what, milady?”

Despite not having addressed the last question to her, Raina smiled at the girl. “What’s yer name?”

“Millie, milady,” the maid offered hesitantly.

“Well, Millie, it appears our lads have arranged a bit of a game for His Grace and myself.”

As the girl’s confused gaze swept between them, Cash nodded. “Sort of a treasure hunt.” At least, he hoped that’s all this was; a game set up by Matthew and Ewan to make their parents look for them. “And I’ll tan that boy’s backside when I—”

Raina clucked in exasperation, interrupting him. When he glanced at her, she smiled. “I dinnae think for one moment ye’d lay a hand on that lad in anger, Cash.”

He grinned in return. “No harm in putting the fear of God into him though?”

She rolled her eyes and turned her attention once more to the maid who was staring, wide-eyed, at their banter. She’d likely never heard anyone refer to the Duke of Cashingham as “Cash.”

Hell, she’s likely never seen you smile either, you idiot.

“Can you tell us where you found these spectacles, Millie?” Before the maid could answer, Cash added, “And have Mrs. Simms call off the hunt.” He squeezed Raina’s hand without looking at her. “This is something for Lady Raina and myself, I suspect.”

At the mention of Raina’s title, Millie’s eyes widened further, but she nodded and bobbed a curtsey at the same time. “At—at the end of the hall, Your Grace. I found them just lying in the middle of the rug.”

When Cash nodded firmly, Millie’s gaze dropped to their joined hands, and a faint smile tugged at her lips. He pulled Raina past the little maid; certain the story of their employer’s madness would be all over the servants’ dining hall by that evening.

Madness? Is that what love was?

Possibly, but he was surprised to discover he didn’t mind.

Behind them, the hall quieted as Millie ushered everyone downstairs, and Cash was certain he could now hear his own heartbeat. Raina’s fingers were entwined with his, in a way which somehow felt as intimate as what they’d shared at The Sword and Sheath last week. He glanced at her, and wasn’t quite surprised to find her grinning.

Together, they pushed open doors and peeked in, trying not to disturb occupants if they were present. Most were small bedrooms belonging to the maids or footmen; some had one bed, some two, but each was cozy and comfortable.

But their sons weren’t there.

Raina had resorted to calling out Ewan’s name occasionally, but Cash didn’t join her. If Matthew had wanted to show himself, he would’ve.

Her breath caught. “That one.”

He wasn’t sure what she was talking about until he followed her gaze to a door to what looked like another small bedroom. Unlike the rest of the rooms, this door was closed—mostly. There was a crack between the frame and the edge of the door, as if it had been closed in a hurry.

Or someone had done it on purpose.

They were already heading toward it, Cash’s hand stretched out to push open the door—and hopefully catch their naughty sons—when a flash of white caught his eye. He glanced to the side.

There! Right in front of a small door—was that a linen closet?—a handkerchief lay crumpled. It was too careless to have belonged to the servants, but surely one of them would’ve noticed it.

He detoured, pulling Raina toward the piece of linen. She stooped and picked it up, dropping his hand in the process. Frowning, she bent over it.

“Do you recognize it?” he murmured.

“I dinnae ken.” She rubbed the linen between her fingers. “Angeline told me Ewan filched a handkerchief from her fiancé—the Marquess of Rothbury—but I have nae way of kenning if this is it.”

Humming, he eyed the small door in front of them. “It appears to be of fine quality.” If it did belong to the marquess, then perhaps behind this door… “I wonder…”

He reached for the handle and pulled open the door to what he assumed was a closet.

He was wrong.

”Oh my…” breathed Raina as she slipped around him and stooped to enter what Cash could only call The Fort. It was remarkable.

“Look at all these pillows, Cash!” Raina had to remain stooped in the center of the space—it really wasn’t too much bigger than a closet, and Cash suspected that’s what it had been before their sons had taken it over. “I’ve wondered what in the world a set of lads would do with all the pillows Ewan was stealing.”

Cash couldn’t stop his chuckle as he leaned into the space, his neck craning around to peer at all the improvements. The floor, indeed, was strewn with pillows of all shapes and sizes, including more than a few he recognized from various parlors here at Cashingham. Had Matthew been filching pillows as well?

The original shelves had been removed from one wall to make more space—his son had found a set of tools somewhere, and Cash was surprised to realize how proud he was—but on the other side of The Fort, the shelves contained an eclectic collection of books. Everything from nursery stories to—he peered closer—Markham’s illustrated A History of Wheat, Volume Three.

Hmm. Perhaps stolen by a lad who can’t read?

He supposed he should be glad Ewan hadn’t found volumes one and two.

His gaze skimmed over the books, rocks, and other assorted treasures the lads had stored on the shelves. There was a fishing hook—in honor of the time they’d spent fishing at the river?—and a perfectly round skipping stone. Propped against one shelf was a small portrait of Cash’s mother, painted while in her youth, and a larger painting he didn’t recognize. Had Ewan stolen a portrait from Fangfoss Manor to decorate their hideaway?

His breath caught when he saw the collection of wooden toys. Those soldiers Cash remembered as being Matthew’s favorites as a younger lad. Had his son brought them from the nursery for Ewan to play with?

He closed his eyes on an exhale, his hands braced against his knees. Dear God, lad. All you wanted was a brother, wasn’t it?

“Cash?” Amusement in Raina’s voice drew his gaze back to her. “Look at this.”

The space was cramped, but when she moved to one side, he saw what had been hidden behind her skirts. “Is that…a trifle?”

“Aye,” she drawled, her hazel eyes sparkling with amusement. “Filched this morning from Fangfoss Manor, if I dinnae miss my guess.”

A trifle? Ewan had stolen the messiest kind of dessert he could pick and had carried it to Cashingham?

“Why?” he asked, shuffling further into the small space.

“Because, I suspect, it’s my favorite.”

It was the note of laughter in her voice which snapped his gaze back to hers, and suddenly, he was remembering his plan to ask her to become his mistress. He’d planned to seduce her with strawberries and crème and enough sweets to make her say aye. But the thought of her licking her spoon clean after enjoying the trifle…? Well, it was an entirely inappropriate time for a cockstand, but that didn’t seem to matter one whit to his body.

Blast.

And then her lips curled upward, as if she knew what he was thinking, and he took a step toward her. “Raina—”

That was as far as he got before a weight barreled into his backside, sending him stumbling forward. Luckily, she caught him before they could both go headfirst into the trifle, which was perched on a wobbly little table, but when he tried to turn, he cracked his head against the low ceiling.

“Ow! What the devil?” Rubbing his head, he turned to see the door was now closed. When he tried the handle, he wasn’t at all surprised to discover it was locked.

And a glance at Raina told him he’d get no help from her. She currently had her hand pressed against her lips to keep from laughing.

“It was Ewan,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling. “I saw him pull the door shut.”

It was more likely Matthew had done the kicking, while Ewan had locked them in, and Cash was surprised by the burst of pride at the realization the pair worked so well together. Still, he needed to teach these lads they couldn’t trick their parents this way.

Stepping up to the door, he placed his fists on his hips—the impressiveness of which was marred, he could admit, by the fact he had to hunch over—and bellowed, “Ewan Prince, you open this door immediately!”

Silence from the other side of the door met his demand.

But then, to his surprise, she stepped up beside him. “Matthew Adolphus Roger Merritt! Yer father and I are verra disappointed, young man.”

Cash’s brows crept toward his hairline. When had she learned Matthew’s full name?

Although he could see the twinkle of amusement in her eyes, she’d made her voice sound stern. She knew exactly how to deal with their wayward offspring, and something swelled in Cash’s heart as he saw further evidence of how good a mother she was.

God help him, but she was magnificent.

From the other side of the door, he could hear frantic whispering, but he only caught a few phrases. “How did she—” and “…middle names mean you’re in trouble!” Then there were some hushed exchanges, and a few scrambling noises, then silence.

He exchanged a questioning glance with Raina, but she just shrugged. They both leaned slightly toward the door, wondering if their gambit would pay off.

Finally, he heard Matthew clear his throat. “I’m sorry, ma’am. But we both think it’s necessary.”

Cash hadn’t expected to be affected by hearing his son’s voice clearly for the first time, especially after they’d figured out the boys’ scheme. But after the last few hours of worry and frantic searching, his knees went weak. Since he was already bent almost double, he just accepted the inevitable and dropped to one knee.

“Matthew, lad, are you and Ewan safe?”

His son responded immediately. “Yes, Da—I mean, Father.” Da was Ewan’s word. Had Matthew been spending so much time with the younger lad, he’d begun to speak like him? “But we needed to get the two of you together. To talk.”

Cash became aware that Raina had sunk to her knees on the pillows beside him, her fingers pressed against the door. He turned to watch as she slowly rested back against the pillows, her eyes wide, as if she could stare through the door.

Without tearing his gaze from her, Cash called out, “And Ewan’s there with you, Matthew? He’s safe too?”

To his surprise, the younger lad piped up in answer. “We’re both safe, Father. I stole the trifle because it’s Mama’s favorite, and so you wouldn’t starve, even if you’re in there forever and ever because she’s stubborn—that’s what Uncle Phin says—and you have to remind her she loves you, that’s what Matthew says, Father.”

Father.

Ewan called him “father.” Twice.

And Cash’s heartbeat had sped up at hearing it both times.

That’s what you want.

Until today, he hadn’t realized that’s what he wanted. He wanted the mischievous, devilish little lad to call him Father. He wanted Matthew to be able to call Ewan brother.

Cash’s breath caught. He wanted Matthew to be able to call Raina “Mama.”

He realized he was staring wide-eyed at her, which was making her flustered. She dropped her gaze to her lap and waved a hand too dismissively to be convincing.

“He just heard Matthew say it,” she managed.

“Yes.”

Father.

She risked a peek up at him. “The me-loving-you-thing, I mean.”

He took a moment to really look into her eyes and saw the hesitation and concern there.

“Do you?” he murmured.

She dropped her gaze to her lap. “My feelings arenae a concern here.”

He disagreed. But… “I was speaking of the fact your son called me Father.”

“Oh!” Her head jerked up quickly enough to smack against the shelf behind her, but she didn’t flinch. “He just heard Matthew say that, as well. He’s verra young, remember.”

Smiling wryly, Cash reached for her hand. As he enfolded it in both of his, he settled down on his arse on the pillows beside her. “He’s not so young he can’t mastermind a series of daring thefts to furnish this fabulous hideaway and drop a series of clues for us to follow.”

Her lips twitched, but her gaze remained on their joined hands.

“I’m certain it was Matthew who was the mastermind behind that hunt.” Before he could object and point out his heir was mild-mannered and bookish, she lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Ewan only called ye Father because Matthew calls ye that. No’ because he thinks ye’re his father.”

“No, his father was an abusive bastard whose nose I’d like to break.” The words popped out before Cash could think better of them.

Raina’s gaze jerked up to his in surprise. She stared at him for a few moments, before finally saying softly, “Which is why I willnae tell ye his name.”

Maybe not now, but one day…

Cash vowed he’d do what he could to help her get the revenge she deserved. If that’s what she wanted.

An unexpected smile tugged at his lips as he held her gaze. Speaking in a normal tone, without looking away from her, he spoke to the door. “Lads, can you hear me?”

“Yes, Father,” they chorused almost in unison, Ewan’s little voice half a beat behind Matthew’s.

His smile grew at the sound, and her brows dipped in confusion.

“Go away for ten minutes.”

She blinked at him, and from the other side of the door, Matthew asked, “Ten minutes?”

“Yes, lad. If I can have ten minutes alone with Raina, I don’t think we’ll have to be in here forever and ever.” That had been what Ewan had threatened after all.

Her eyes had widened again, and there was a bout of hurried whispering on the other side of the door. When Cash heard Ewan hiss, “That means there’ll be trifle leftover!” his smile grew. Then, Matthew said very clearly, “Come along, Ewan. They want some privacy.”

There followed the sound of footsteps, and Cash cocked his head to one side, listening to make sure they were really gone. Meanwhile, Raina was staring at him, her hand rigid in his, while her other hand gripped her skirt in her lap.

His smile softened as he understood the signs of her worry. She wasn’t sure what to expect from him, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d been so angry—mainly at himself—when he’d discovered she was an earl’s daughter because it meant he couldn’t have her in his life the way he wanted…as his doxy.

But maybe he could have her in his life the way she deserved.

As Matthew’s mother. As his wife.

Thinking of the way she jumped to discipline Matthew, and the sparkle in her eyes when she’d done it, he asked softly, “You love him, don’t you?”

He remembered the way she’d gently taught him new things beside the river, how she effortlessly touched him as if he were a normal boy, and how gentle she was with him. She did love him.

But the question flustered her further, and she dropped her gaze once more. “Ewan? Of course I love him.”

“No, not Ewan,” he corrected gently, releasing one hand to raise her chin so he could study her hazel eyes. “Matthew. You love them both.”

She flushed, but because of his touch, she couldn’t look away.

“You love them both,” Cash repeated in a whisper. “And they both love you. Matthew loves you.”

I love you.

His throat closed up.

She was blinking rapidly, and when he realized there were tears in her eyes, he released her so she could look away.

He cleared his throat, deciding to change the subject before she lost control of those tears. “Will you tell me who Ewan’s father is?”

She blinked, and her eyes jerked back up. Frowning, she gave a quick shake of her head before her gaze skittered away again.

Taking a deep breath, Cash reached for her other hand. Sitting there, in their sons’ secret hideaway, reclining on pillows stolen from a dozen different rooms and two different homes, he squeezed both of her hands and smiled.

“Will you tell me who Ewan’s father is on our first wedding anniversary?”