The Travellers by J. Howard Shelley
Chapter 15
The Duke pleaded and argued with her for another ten minutes but she was resolute. They had, she repeated, no future together. Eventually Madame returned to the room and, seeing the distraught looks on the two faces determinedly escorted the Duke out of the room.
Sale started upon the ride back to Sale Park despondently. He had gone to Borden with high hopes and had fully, and reasonably, expected to return having had his offer accepted. It was not, he thought, be much to ask that the lady he loved might not only love him back but would agree to marry him. He was inclined to be a little angry at first. 'How dare she,’ he thought, ‘throw insubstantial and absurd, obstacles in the way of our happiness?’ This thought did not long endure. He had too much respect for Miss Leighton’s insight and shrewdness and his natural honesty soon reasserted itself. How would he react, he asked himself, if, after they were married Miss Leighton’s unfortunate past was revealed? She was right, he concluded, he would be a laughing stock and he might be convicted at the bar of public opinion of deliberately foisting his low born bride onto society. How long, he wondered, would their love survive such public shame?
He became more reflective. Before Harriet’s death he had rarely had to solve any problems. Lord Lionel told him what he should do. If not Lord Lionel, then Scriven or another of the many servants that had attended him since birth. Nettlebed told him what to wear, his butler, told him what to drink and his groom told him what to ride. Any half-hearted attempts he made to exert his independence were met with an indulgent smile and he was then deftly manoeuvred into doing what someone else thought was right. By the age of twenty-four he wondered if in fact any of the ideas he had carried any merit at all. Yet he had now found, once he had decided to be his own master, that he did have good ideas, he could put them into practice and he had managed to succeed in nearly everything he chose to do. Most of his failures were down to lack of experience and not due to any lack of ability on his part. He knew that many of the changes he had initiated in his estates were worthwhile and often required making difficult choices but, as he observed to himself somewhat ruefully, the one thing that mattered to him above all else he could not accomplish.
The Duke had, while wool gathering, allowed his horse to drop to a walk. He sat up so suddenly it caused the animal to shy, requiring him to spend a few seconds concentrating on avoiding being unseated. Having steadied his mount, he set off at brisk trot with a look of renewed determination on his face. He was a paltry fellow indeed. Here was something that really mattered and he was giving up at the first fence. There must (because the alterative was too awful to contemplate) be something he could do.
Arriving back at Sale Park he handed the reins of his horse to the waiting groom and strode into the reception hall. As the Duke had informed Francis whither he was going and both Francis and Guay had an interest in the outcome they had awaited his return with some anticipation. It was to be seen from the Duke’s expression that his mission had not prospered but the expression of grim determination told them that he was not yet resigned to his fate.
“We” the Duke pointed at the two men, “have a problem.”
With unusual candour, the Duke explained the position. Both Guay and Francis were fully aware of Miss Leighton’s unusual background but being men they had some difficulty understanding her decision. Women, they agreed, were unfathomable creatures at best and their motives were obscure but, as matters stood their minds could not immediately alight on a solution. If the impeccable parentage which had so recently been created for her would not persuade Miss Leighton that she was a fit bride for the Duke of Sale, then it was hard to see what would. Unless it was possible to rewrite history, the future did not look positive for any of their marital ambitions.
Guay seeing his beloved bustling across the reception hall moved to intercept her and gave the bad news. Somewhat to his surprise and chagrin she showed no disappointment.
“Why should she agree to marry now?” her expression made it clear that in her view the expectation that Miss Leighton would simply agree to marry the Duke and skip into happy matrimony was an unacceptable, but predictable, piece of masculine arrogance. “Miss Sarah has just begun to see the world. In any case,” she gave an expressive Gallic shrug, “she loves him. She will marry him when she is ready to do so.” Then giving her cavalier to understand she was much too busy to spend her time gossiping with him, and recommending that he return to learning about estate management, she turned her back and walked purposefully in the direction of the Kitchen.
Miss Leighton had retired, exhausted, to her bedchamber after the Duke left Borden. She then allowed Sarah out of her solitary confinement to engage in a hearty bout of tears. She was certain she had done the right thing but it was a bitter pill indeed to swallow. When the Duke knew nothing of her existence the young Sarah had dreamt of marrying him even though she knew that he would never notice her. Well, he had noticed her, and he loved her and for a few short weeks it seemed as if her impossible fantasy might actually come to pass. Then a few chance words brought her hopes crashing down to earth. However much she loved the Duke she could not live with the thought that, one day, he might regret marrying her. Better to hold on to the impossible dream than see his regard whither before her eyes.
After an hour, Miss Leighton read herself a stern lecture, brushed her hair, put up her chin and went back downstairs determined to put childish dreams behind her and concentrate on some matters which the housekeeper wished to discuss. If Madame and Martha cast her concerned looks that evening, neither Lady felt up to discussing the events of the day.
It said a great about the difference in the Duke brought about by the years abroad that although the work at Sale Park did not hold the same excitement for him now he would not be bringing the bride of his choice to his home, he never once considered leaving it unfinished. He saw the enthusiasm of his staff and the local community and he realised how much Sale Park meant to them all. Then again, he was surprised at his own sense of pride in the great house, it would, he vowed, be better than it had been since it was first built. There was however, something else. He knew Miss Leighton loved his house as much as he did and he had conceived of a plan to use it to ensure that she visited as often as possible.
Miss Leighton had thought, having rejected his suit, she would see little if anything of the Duke. There seemed to be little opportunity unless they met socially in London or on the rare occasions when the Leighton family went to visit their neighbours. She was therefore surprised when, not long after breakfast on the following day, he rode up to their front door accompanied by Francis. Any thought that he may have returned with the intention of pressing his suit was dispelled by the Duke himself. Striding into the room with, as she saw it, an altogether too bright smile, he said warmly,
“Good morning Miss Leighton, you need have no concerns, I shall not again mention the discussion we had yesterday again but I fail to see why two friends should not meet as such whenever they choose.” Miss Leighton, conveniently forgetting that it was she who had refused him, thought sourly that such cheerfulness under the circumstances was wholly inappropriate. He should have been, as she was, utterly cast down. This display of open friendliness, not to speak of positive bonhomie, showed a distinct lack of sympathy for her tender feelings. However, before she could prepare a suitable set down, he leaned forward and said conspiratorially, “besides, Francis wanted to come to see Martha to see if he could persuade her to change her mind.”
The set down Miss Leighton was about to utter, froze on her tongue. In addition to refusing the Duke she now realised, that in doing so, she had cut up the hopes of two other women of whom she was very fond. She was now feeling somewhat selfish and more than a little guilty. She had tried to explain her decision to Martha the previous evening and while the older woman had accepted everything her mistress said, it was easy to see that she was bitterly disappointed. What was worse, a decision made in the seclusion of her own bedroom seemed s
Much to her disgust therefore, in the place of the stiff response with which she had fully intended to greet the Duke’s lack of sensitivity, all she could do was stammer,
“Of c-course, I’m very glad to see you. Then, remembering her manners she added “will you not sit down?”
“I have come with a plea for help,” the Duke said as he accepted her invitation. “The work at Sale Park comes on apace, Véronique is a wonder. I have never met anyone with such energy and eye for detail. She is everywhere. I honestly believe I have seen her in two places at once and she has organised the staff so well that the work goes like clockwork. But there are some things I must do for myself. I need help hiring servants; as much as I esteem Scriven, his notion of what is due to my consequence is somewhat different to mine. If I leave it to him I will have a butler that terrifies me, a man employed with the sole job of cleaning my guns and a groom of the chambers. I will have a priest, a footman to assist the Butler in opening the front door, a night porter, an assistant valet and as Scriven is apparently convinced that one cook cannot possible deal with both meat and sweetmeat at least three chefs.” Miss Leighton had some difficulty in preserving a dignified silence at his point and the Duke ruthlessly pressed home his advantage. “I jest not; when I was a boy getting up and going to breakfast required no less than seven servants. Three were required to assist me from my bed, to lay out my clothes and to dress me. One man had the job of informing the rest of the house that I was leaving my bedchamber, a footman escorted me to the breakfast table, another pulled out my chair and pushed it back in when I was seated and the final one served me my food. I often wondered if they thought that without an escort to the table they might lose me and I might be found starved and exhausted restlessly walking around the stables unable to find a way out.” The mental image thus created of a dazed Duke, utterly lost in his own house for the want of an escort to the breakfast table, finally broke down Miss Leighton’s barriers and she laughed out loud.
“I wonder how many pointless jobs we could invent,” she asked rhetorically her sense of the ridiculous coming to the fore, “perhaps you could appoint someone to guard the cabbages.”
“We had kitchen porters. The senior one had the unenviable job of keeping a record of what was in the kitchen stores. Presumably that included cabbages.
The young couple then spent a quarter of an hour inventing ever more pointless jobs. After the relative merits of such individuals such as a duck counter, (to ensure that a reasonable population was maintained) a tree polisher (so that the ladies would not get stains upon their raiment should they brush against an oak) and a carpet straightener (to fix down the corners where they curled) had been discussed at length, their former relationship had been restored and the natural embarrassment which they might have expected to feel had been overcome.
“There were two other reasons I came to see you,” said the Duke after they had finished laughing. I have no experience of decorating a house. It is not one of the matters which my uncle thought I might need to know. He assumed that, in common with my ancestors, there would be a Duchess who would make it her life’s work. There is no Duchess and the work cannot wait for there to be one, even I can see that some of the rooms need a great deal of attention.” He shook his head hopelessly. “I simply don’t know where to start. I have execrable taste, left up to me all the rooms would be the same colour and the great hall would be adorned with rows of doric columns. I want to entertain, but with so many of the rooms in a poor state I cannot do so.” Miss Leighton wondered, not without a pang of jealousy who was to be hostess but did not advance a comment. “Some of the rooms require new drapes, the furnishings need re-upholstering and we have had to throw away a number of carpets. I need your help.”
“You said two reasons Sir?” said Miss Leighton suspiciously and playing for time.
“I thought,” advanced the Duke with as bland an expression as he could muster, “if you were to assist me in the house, I could repay you by teaching you to ride.”
The life Miss Leighton had led had never permitted her to learn to ride. She could not go beyond the borders of the small park that surrounded Borden House in case someone saw her and the Viscount, who was often from home, did not keep a large stable. There was certainly no suitable mount for a lady. The expense of purchasing a riding habit seemed unjustifiable when it was hard to see that she would ever need it and there was the added difficulty of attending for fittings. Matters now stood differently, there was no reason she could not go abroad and Miss Leighton was determined to be seen riding in the parks at the fashionable hour when she returned to London. In hopeful pursuance of that ambition and using the funds she now had at her command, she had purchased a habit during the brief stay in London. It now hung in her closet awaiting an opportunity to for her wear it.
“Oh yes please,” At this offer Miss Leighton wholly forgot that she had resolved to hold the Duke at arm’s length and bestowed him such a smile that almost overset him, “When can we start?” she asked eagerly.
“How soon can you change?” he replied.
Some twenty minutes later when she came down stairs attired in her new riding habit, Martha in tow, her face had once more assumed a deeply suspicious expression. The groom had harnessed the only pair of carriage horses the Viscount possessed to the barouche, John Coachman was sitting on the box and Madame was sitting in it chatting affably to Francis who was astride his mount and holding the Duke’s horse. The Duke was awaiting Miss Leighton holding the bridle of a quiet but beautiful dun mare.
“Where did that horse come from?” asked Miss Leighton with no preamble. “Do not, I pray, insult my intelligence by responding that it came from our stable as I am perfectly sure that you know what I mean.”
“I chose him for you,” replied the Duke, who then continued mendaciously. “Your uncle wrote to ask me to procure a suitable mount for you so that you could commence riding as soon as you had procured a habit.”
While she could see nothing in his face which suggested that he was not telling her the unvarnished truth she was not convinced. On the other hand, it was a beautiful day and she wanted to learn to ride very much. Whether she would have declined in the end no-one was ever to know because Madame leant over the door of the barouche and testily enquired whether Sarah was going to keep her and Martha (who had also taken her seat) waiting much longer. Profuse in her apologies she allowed herself to be thrown into the saddle. It was perhaps fortunate that she did not see the mischievous wink Madame threw at the Duke behind her back. Checking to see that the girth was tight and the stirrups the right length he led the mare over to his own mount and a minute or so later they passed through the gate of Borden onto the Road which led past the gates to Sale Park.
Upon arrival at the Duke’s home some thirty-five minutes later the ladies were astonished at the progress which the Duke had already made. Véronique was sent for and after greeting the ladies with her usual enthusiasm they set off on a tour of the house. It was not long before, as the Duke ruefully recognised, he became utterly superfluous. Even had he wanted to contribute, he was out of his depth as the discussion revolved around the relative merits of the different fabrics available and the most fashionable colours. When the ladies spent five minutes trying to choose between two patterns, which to the Duke appeared completely identical, he gave up and wandered off.
There was little that could be decided that day as Miss Leighton only had her riding habit with her, a protracted stay would require her to change to something a little more suitable. Having obtained a view of the task which faced them and after taking a little tea the ladies had perforce to return to Borden, with a firm promise to return the following day.
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Then there was the question of servants. Miss Leighton and Madame undertook the task of interviewing the upper-servants including the footmen, the cook and the more senior maids. Knowing the Duke’s views on very superior servants, some highly qualified individuals with excellent references were disappointed. A Mrs Rainley, somewhat to her own surprise, was appointed to under-housekeeper on the understanding that once Mrs Bridgehouse had retired again and Véronique had returned to France she would assume the full duties of housekeeper. The Butler, Reynolds, hired himself. No-one knew where he came from. One day he just appeared and assumed the role and as the Duke was away from home at the time it was two days before he was even challenged. On being asked to explain himself, he merely explained that he would work for nothing except his bed and board and, if his service commanded sufficient respect, he would be glad to be paid. Both the Duke and Miss Leighton admired the sheer cheek of the man and since, after a week it became clear that he was in fact extremely efficient, and after Francis had wholeheartedly endorsed his way with the under servants, he was told he could stay. His only response to this gratifying confirmation of his abilities was a courteous “Of course, Your Grace.”
There was one particular appointment that Miss Leighton was delighted to be able to make. There were still a few people living locally who had been in service at Sale Park before the great house had closed down and, being available for work, they were keen to return. Naturally these people were interviewed first. In the course of interviewing for senior housemaids Sarah recognised one of the applicants;
“Jenny,” She blurted out.
“Ma’am?” Jenny replied, somewhat surprised at being thus addressed, not recognising in this elegant lady her former companion.
“When you were here before,” asked Miss Leighton mischievously, did you ever slide down the banister of the grand staircase when you were polishing them?”
“But Ma’am, how did you...?” Jenny, desperately wanting the post, was not quite sure what to say.
“I only ask,” said Miss Leighton conversationally, “because that is what I did.” It occurred to Jenny at this point that there was something familiar about the lady interviewing her and she looked at her somewhat more closely.
“Oh! My goodness, Miss Sarah...I mean Ma’am.”
Deciding she had teased Jenny enough, Miss Leighton confirmed her identity and engaged her on the spot. Having done so the two women engaged in a series of most unladylike reminiscences, only interrupted when Véronique pointedly reminded her mistress that there were other staff to be interviewed.
While there were staff available locally, there was nothing like the number required to run such as large a house as Sale Park. Francis and Guay were despatched to local towns to enquire if there were people there with the right skills who were available for work and it was thus not long thereafter that the house was fully staffed. There were changes afoot in the grounds as well. The head gardener was one of the few of the ‘old guard’ remaining at the park from the days before the Duke’s marriage. He had long since ceased cultivating anything more than a small piece of the kitchen garden. For a man whose pride and joy had been one of the best managed house and gardens in the country the last few years had been very difficult. Now rejuvenated, he had hired a small army of under-gardeners to dig over and plant the whole garden. The orangery and greenhouses were once again needed to produce exotic, early and winter fruit and cut flowers for the main house. The home farm which had almost ceased working altogether, now boasted a dairy maid and steps were being taken to repair the dairy in readiness to produce milk and cheese. The small flock of chickens which they had kept for the few eggs the house needed had grown considerably and the pond contained a handsome number of ducks and geese. Over the last few days the repairs to the sties and farrowing pens had been completed and a delivery of pigs to occupy them was expected any day.
Miss Leighton made good on a promise she had made weeks ago and took the Duke around his home by the back stairs. He discovered, much to his surprise that there were many passages around his home that he had not known existed. On several occasions Miss Leighton challenged him to get from one place in the house to another faster than she could and each time he lost. There were however, according to the staff, some disadvantages to the owner of the house knowing about the back stairs. One never knew when one might meet one’s employer. One morning, late for breakfast the Duke decided to avail himself of the shorter route to the breakfast and met he one of the newly appointed chamber maids en route. Not aware of the Duke’s easy ways with his staff he scared the poor girl so much that she was useless until revived by Véronique employing the simple expedient of throwing a jug of water over her.
At the beginning and end of every day Miss Leighton the Duke taught her to ride. She was an apt pupil with fine light hands and her small size meant that her mount did not tire easily,
“Either I am a very good teacher or you are an exceptional student,” the Duke said admiringly as they pulled up at Borden House having cantered for the last mile. “It will not be long before you will be teaching me.”
“I have never enjoyed anything so much in my life,” Miss Leighton replied as she gave her hand to the Duke to help her dismount. “When will I be able to gallop?”
At the end of three weeks all the constraint which had followed the Duke’s declaration had gone. While there were some topics of conversation which they carefully avoided there was so much else to talk about that this was never an issue.
In one quarter however, this renewed closeness was received with a certain amount of suspicion and increasing concern. Madame, struggling to see how the situation could have a happy outcome, was moved to seek out and speak to the Duke on the issue. After a considerable search, she found him superintending the demolition of a very ugly and pointless ruin which his Grandfather had constructed in slavish worship to the fashion for such things. Not proof against his charm she watched him as he stripped off his coat and joined in with the men hauling on the rope to pull down the main part of the structure. Some five minutes later she walked over to him as he picked himself off the ground where he had fallen when the ruin had finally collapsed. He was very dirty, and although not a large man he was quick and wiry and, Madame thought, fatally handsome. He was clearly enjoying himself very much. She waited while he thanked the men for their assistance and then walked purposefully over towards him.
Sale, I want to talk to you.” Madame had already a reputation for a commanding presence and few pithily delivered words. “What are you doing with Sarah?” Guiltily aware that his actions over the last few weeks or so could have led Madame to the conclusion that he was trifling with Miss Leighton, he explained that, before he left Sale Park, which it was his intention to do on the morrow, he wanted to be sure that he had recovered his position. “To what purpose pray?” demanded Madame, “she will not have you.” She was startled by the look of utter desperation which appeared on his face.
“Madame,” he guided her away from the ongoing demolition work to a bench under a tree. “I understand why Miss Leighton feels we cannot marry and, if that is the end of the matter then so be it. But I cannot allow matter to rest until I am sure that every door is closed to me.” He gave Madame a twisted smile which showed just how important it was to him. “There is just one small hope, I cannot say more for the moment.
Madame was not displeased by this response. As she knew the depth of the feelings Miss Leighton carried for the Duke, if there was any possibility that a Union could be achieved she felt every avenue should be pursued. It would be a most advantageous match and one of which she was certain her husband and his nephew would approve. Except therefore, for telling him that she would hold him to his promise and wishing him good luck, she held her tongue.
The Duke had not in fact been planning to leave quite yet but once Madame had made her feelings plain he decided that he had little choice but to bring matters forward. On the ride back to Borden that evening the Duke broke the news to Miss Leighton that there would perforce have to be a hiatus in her riding lessons as he would be leaving very early the following day on matters of business which could not be delayed. He was gratified to note the effect his announcement had on her. It was a nearly a minute before Miss Leighton was able to reply, keeping her face averted lest he should see the tears.
“Of course, you have been at home for nearly three weeks and you have other estates you will need to see,” she said not entirely coherently, “are you likely to be away for long?”
It was all the Duke could do not to take his love in his arms and promise never to go away but he reminded himself that if he was unable to solve their problem a little separation might, (although knowing his love’s strength of character, he thought it unlikely) change her mind. He held his peace therefore, merely inviting Sarah to treat his house as his own while he was away and confirming that, while he could not precisely define the length of his expected absence it was likely he would be away for at least two weeks.
The following day, very early in the morning, two nondescript men mounted on sturdy but ordinary horses left Sale Park by a side entrance. No-one saw them leaving the Duke’s spacious grounds and, once on the road, they were only seen by a few tradesmen and farm workers, early risers also who paid them no attention at all. Mr. Rufford and his travelling companion had reappeared and then immediately thereafter vanished. No-one was able, to give any clue as to the Duke’s whereabouts. To polite enquiries, Reynolds merely said that his Grace was away on business and had not said when he would return.