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Pendrake Hall

Devonshire, England

July 1816

“OH, DEAR. IT is massive,” Harriet Comeford muttered to herself while staring at the stately manor in the distance that served as the Duke of Pendrake’s country home. The sun beat down on her as she approached the grand house with growing trepidation.

Had she made a terrible mistake in coming here?

It seemed as though a house party was about to take place, for several elegant carriages had passed her as she walked along the expansive drive toward the house on this warm summer’s day. The carriages now filled the courtyard, and liveried footmen were scurrying back and forth to unload trunks and carry them inside. An older gentleman who appeared to be the head butler rushed out to escort the recent arrivals into the house.

Harriet stood off to the side, hesitating to step forward since no one seemed to have a moment to attend to her.

She clutched her brother’s letter of introduction in one hand and a pouch carrying her worldly belongings in the other. The pouch was not all that heavy since she had little other than a few gowns to her name.

“Oh, dear,” she muttered again, wondering whether her brother had truly been a good friend to the Duke of Pendrake. “George, I hope you were not exaggerating or I am done for.”

But he had claimed they were.

She hoped it was not a complete fabrication.

With her brother now gone, Harriet had nowhere else to go. Nor did she have the means to travel back to Yorkshire where she had been raised or the convent school in Gloucester where she had been teaching until a few months ago.

Three gowns and this letter of introduction comprised the sum of her worldly possessions.

The carriages that had arrived just ahead of her were now driven off to the carriage house which was situated beside the stable.

This left her standing alone in front of the duke’s imposing home.

“Miss, you seem lost,” a gentleman said, startling her out of her thoughts as he emerged from the stable and approached her.

Harriet knew she must have looked quite out of her element, but managed a friendly smile as he reached her side in a few long strides. “Good morning, sir. Not lost. Just…a bit uncertain.”

He was a big man, standing a full head taller than herself, and powerfully built.

“Uncertain?” He had dark hair and smoky gray eyes that could make a girl’s heart flutter. His attire was casual, a work shirt that stretched across his chest and muscled shoulders, and dark trousers that molded to his long legs. His boots were scuffed, but otherwise finely made.

All in all, he appeared too elegant to be one of the stable grooms. “How may I help you?”

She let out a breath and smiled again. “I am Harriet Comeford. My brother was George Comeford, a good friend of His Grace, or so my brother claimed.”

The man frowned. “Was?”

She nodded. “George died a month ago.”

She was surprised by the compassion she noted in the man’s eyes. “I am so very sorry,” he said with unmistakable sincerity. “Miss Comeford, come into the house and we shall get you properly squared away.”

“Oh.” She held back when he took her lightly by the elbow and started to lead her in through the front door. “Sir, perhaps I ought to go in from the kitchen. You see, I am not a guest. His Grace does not expect me or even know who I am.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You are George’s sister. I can assure you, the duke will be quite pleased to meet you.”

“Truly?” She released a breath and smiled at the man yet again. “That eases my mind greatly. You seem to have known my brother, as well. Did you fight in the war alongside him?”

“Yes, I was there with your brother.”

“Then I thank you sincerely for your service to the Crown and for keeping all of us safe here in England.”

He nodded, then took her travel pouch out of her hand and gave it over to one of the footmen standing at attention in the entry hall. “Tell Mrs. Watkins that Miss Comeford’s belongings are to be placed in the blue bedchamber.”

The footman’s gaze flicked to her before returning to her companion. “At once, Your Grace.”

“Your Grace?” It took a moment for Harriet to grasp who this man was. “You are the duke?”

He nodded. “Forgive me, Miss Comeford. I should have identified myself sooner, but I liked that you had no idea who I was.”

She had not the chance to say another word before he led her down the hall toward his study. She tried to take in as much of her surroundings as possible, for portraits lined the hallway walls, and she was curious who these people might be.

The prior dukes and duchesses, of course.

And their children.

Was one of them this impressive duke as a child?

“Keep up, Miss Comeford,” he remarked, leading her along.

“Yes, Your Grace.” She would have liked to study these portraits, but the duke was walking too fast for her to get a good look, and everything passed in a blur.

He certainly was decisive in his strides and did not waste any time dawdling.

She was used to walking briskly, but still had to take two steps for every one of his in order to keep up.

He led her into a large room with beautiful mahogany shelves that lined the walls and were filled with books she hoped he might allow her to peruse at her leisure. But now was not the time to ask.

In the center of the room stood a massive desk, also of the same mahogany wood. Beside the desk were two leather chairs that appeared well padded and quite comfortable. A magnificent carpet of oriental design took up most of the floor, its deep maroon and gold hues enhanced by the richness of the surrounding wood.

“You must be thirsty and likely hungry,” he said, tugging on a bell pull by the door. “Would you prefer lemonade or tea? Cakes or cucumber sandwiches?”

She was surprised to be offered anything, but quite grateful for it. “Lemonade and cakes would be lovely, but you needn’t go to the bother.”

“No bother at all.” He escorted her to one of the leather chairs and motioned for her to sit. “Did you walk here from the coaching station? I’m sure you must be tired as well as parched. Once we are done talking, I will give you over to Mrs. Watkins. She is the housekeeper at Pendrake Hall and will see to all your needs. Let her know if your bedchamber is not to your liking and we shall put you in another room.”

“Your Grace,” Harriet said with a soft laugh, “unless the blue room is actually a cupboard, I am certain I will love it.”

He grinned as he settled in the chair beside hers and stretched his long legs before him. “It is slightly larger than a cupboard, I assure you.”

It was not long before a butler responded to his summons. “Come in, Flint. This is Miss Comeford, one of my honored guests. She is in dire need of lemonade and cakes. Have Cook prepare a tray for us and have her pile it high with a sampling of everything. Sweets, savories, and anything else she has available in her kitchen.”

“At once, Your Grace.”

Harriet recognized Flint as the head butler who had earlier escorted the new arrivals from their carriages into the house.

The duke certainly ran an efficient household.

The servants she had encountered seemed attentive to their duties and proud of their roles, including Flint, who had a kind look about him.

“Thank you, Mr. Flint,” she said as he bowed to her and was about to walk out.

He glanced at the duke, then smiled. “You are most welcome, Miss Comeford.”

Harriet returned her attention to the duke.

“Now, Miss Comeford,” he said with unexpected gentleness, “tell me about George.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. She hadn’t meant to cry, but her tears were suddenly flowing and she seemed unable to stop them. “Do forgive me,” she said, appalled to find the waterworks gushing.

The strain of the past few months, first in nursing her brother and helplessly watching him fade away, and then in finding herself all alone with barely enough funds to travel here, was hitting her all at once now.

She searched for her handkerchief and could not find it.

“Here,” the duke said, and withdrew his own to hand to her. “Take your time, Miss Comeford. We needn’t speak of George if it proves too difficult for you.”

“I’ll be all right in a moment. It’s just that I’ve been keeping my grief buried inside for a while now. I did not mean to have it erupt like this.”

“It is quite understandable. You must have been worried that I would refuse to see you after you traveled all this way.”

She nodded. “But you’ve been so kind in welcoming me into your home. Of course, I realize that I cannot impose on you. Your allowing me to stay the night is generous.”

“It is no imposition at all,” he assured her.

She let out a ragged breath. “I am hardly a guest. But I would be most grateful for your assistance in…in…would it be terribly presumptuous of me to ask for your help in finding a position for me? I am willing to work as a companion to an elderly lady or as a governess. I am quite good with children.”

He frowned. “Are your circumstances that dire?”

She winced. “I had some savings, but spent all of it caring for my brother. I taught at a convent school, St. Mary’s in Gloucester, but had to give up my position and return to our home in Yorkshire when George’s health failed. The abbess has since filled my position.”

“So you came here?”

“Yes.” She felt truly embarrassed. “George insisted on it. I am here because I promised him that I would come to see you. I could not renege on a deathbed promise. Even so, I hesitated.”

“Why?”