Page 12 of His Extraordinary Duchess

Chapter Twelve

C laudia was pleased that Mr. Kinsle managed to gather everyone except the kitchen staff in the corridor at the top of the main stairs in a short time. She looked to Ben, who explained their purpose.

“We have good call to think there is an unused room about there,” he said, pointing to the likely spot. “It once had an opening. It might still have an opening, though both the entrance and its mechanism may be hidden. We suspect that opening is along this wall, on the west wall of the duke’s bedchamber, or on the east wall of the landing.”

Georgie spoke up. “A mystery? How delightful! How can we help?”

“We’d like you to help us spot the opening,” Ben told her. “Look for seams that should not be there, protrusions, mismatched paneling, that sort of thing.”

“We should poke at the hearths as well,” Georgie suggested, smiling down at Oliver, who stood beside her, though they had left Anastasia behind. “There’s always a secret spring or lever in the hearth in gothic novels.”

Oliver nodded wisely.

“If not the hearth, then the bookcase,” Sophia added. “Check behind any books, but please put them back afterward. I should not like to see any first editions damaged.”

“It might require us to move furniture,” Mr. Kinsle said with a look to Claudia.

“Do what you must, Mr. Kinsle,” she told her butler.

“But I quite agree with Her Grace,” Sir Winfred put in. “Damage nothing.”

Claudia stepped forward. “We’ll take it in teams. Mr. Warden, young master Warden, Violette, and I will survey the duke’s bedchamber.”

Sir Winfred cleared his throat before she could continue. “I’ll join you.”

Was he truly trying to get into her good graces, as Sophia suspected? He hadn’t started off well today. But Claudia nodded, then continued assigning the others. Sophia and Georgie would search the corridor with Mr. Kinsle and one of the footmen, and the maids and the rest of the footmen fanned out along the landing. Soon the air was filled with the sounds of tapping and the rumble and scrape of furniture moving.

Inside the bedchamber, Oliver quietly closed the door as if to shut off the discordant sounds.

Claudia glanced around. She had only been in the room a few times when Joseph had been alive. He had generally visited her bedchamber at night. Freddie had never wanted to take his father’s room, and Robert, Sophia’s duke, had never bothered to redecorate. The great mahogany box bed with its carved cornices still hung with the same emerald velvet draperies. The cream-colored leather armchair still sat beside the stone hearth as if waiting for its owner to plop down upon it. Only the accoutrements on the dressing table had vanished, leaving space for the new duke.

Had Joseph never noticed a secret room connected to his? Was the space of such great antiquity that even the last few Dukes of Tyneham had forgotten its existence?

Sir Winfred glanced around as well. “I see nothing here that might indicate another room.”

Ben strode up to the wall that held the hearth. “It would be along here, most likely. The fire from the hearth would warm it too.”

That wall held a bookcase and a small desk on one side of the hearth. On the other side stood a highboy dresser with legs carved to resemble serpents. Mindful of Sophia’s warning, Claudia went to the bookcase and began moving books, looking behind them for any sign of an opening or mechanism. Farther down the wall, Ben shifted aside the highboy so Violette could dart behind it. Sir Winfred wandered to the window adjacent to them and gazed out at the fields as if already bored.

How could he be bored? All Claudia could think about was what they might find.

Oliver must have been of the same mind. “What do you think might be in there?” he asked, walking back and forth along the wall as if trying to spot the opening from a distance.

“Pirate treasure?” Ben suggested with a wink to Claudia as he tapped along the hearth.

“Surely not!” Sir Winfred retorted, turning to them with a frown. “The Dukes of Tyneham never sailed the seas.”

“Gold pillaged from some far-off land, then,” Ben said.

Sir Winfred puffed so hard he ruffled his mustache. “The Dukes of Tyneham never pillaged.”

“Very likely not,” Claudia agreed, crouching to reach the bottom shelves. “Art was more likely what they treasured.”

Oliver stopped his pacing to stare at her. “Art?”

Claudia smiled at his eager tone. It seemed young Mr. Warden was more intrigued at the idea of paintings and sculpture than Spanish doubloons and pieces of eight.

“Some collectors prefer to keep their most priceless artifacts to themselves,” Ben explained to his son, coming to join him before the desk. “That always seemed a pity to me. Art and history were meant to be shared, especially among the people who created it.”

Oliver took another step back, gaze roaming the wall. Then he pointed. “That painting is not where it should be.”

Claudia blinked. She quickly straightened the books she’d been moving, then went to join him and Ben. So did Violette and Sir Winfred.

“Odd,” Claudia agreed, cocking her head. “Joseph was never particularly fond of hunting scenes. I can’t imagine why he’d hang one in his bedchamber of all places.”

“Perhaps one of the later dukes preferred it,” Sir Winfred said dismissively. “There’s no accounting for taste.”

“No,” Claudia said. “It was here while Joseph lived. I’m sure of it.”

Ben was studying it as well. “Isn’t that the Grange to the west of here?”

“No, no,” Sir Winfred said, stepping in front of him as if to see the piece more clearly. “That doesn’t look anything like the Grange.”

“No, he’s right,” Claudia said, striding up to the painting. “That’s Farley Hill, and there’s the creek that runs along its base. It’s not the fox hunt in the foreground Joseph cared about. These are Tyneham lands.” She squinted at the signature. “RA. That means nothing to me. Do you know him, Sir Winfred?”

She turned to look at him and found Violette as rosy as a sunrise. Before Claudia could ask what had come over her maid, Sir Winfred spoke up.

“Local chap,” he said with a shrug. “No one of any importance.”

Violette dropped her gaze.

“Well, he was certainly important enough for Joseph to hang the painting where he would see it every day,” Claudia pointed out.

Ben came to meet her. “Do you notice any mismatches in the paneling?”

She peered closer, and a jolt of excitement ran through her. “Yes! There! And there!” She grinned at him. “This must be it!”

“Allow me,” Ben said, stepping forward. He swiveled the desk to one side to give them room. Then his long fingers traced the outline of a door, clear to Claudia now that she knew what she was looking for. But though he pried and pulled, the door didn’t move.

“There’s no locking mechanism that I can see,” he said, tilting his head.

“Likely it opens only from the inside,” Sir Winfred offered. “Best to leave it alone.”

“What use would a room be that you can exit but never enter?” Claudia scolded. Frustrated, she smacked a fist against the wall.

With a creak of protest, the panel cracked open.

They all froze.

* * *

Ben recovered first. They’d done it. They’d found the secret room. While he doubted it contained anything more than family records or discarded furniture, he couldn’t wait to explore. He slid the desk farther aside, cupped the edge of the door with one hand, and swung it wider.

“Care to do the honors, Your Grace?” he asked her with a smile.

Claudia’s eyes shone. But before she could take a step, Sir Winfred pushed past her to block the way forward.

“Nonsense!” he declared, face pale. “The place could be filled with poisonous gasses accumulated through the ages, inhabited by venomous spiders. No one should enter without proper protection.”

Claudia regarded him, steely-eyed. “What sort of household do you think I manage, sir? Step aside and allow me to enter.”

Ben could not imagine anyone refusing her with that imperious tone. Indeed, Sir Winfred wilted.

“I was only trying to protect you,” he murmured.

She relented enough to rest a hand on his arm. “And I thank you for your kindness. But I have become used to protecting myself.”

She swept past him, Ben and Oliver at her heels. Sir Winfred stayed at the doorway as if fearing to take a step further, and Claudia’s maid peered around his bulk.

As Ben had estimated, the space was approximately twelve feet square. Dust had accumulated on the wood floor, but it did not appear as thick as he would have thought if the room had been closed up for decades. Several chest-high, glass-fronted cases stood along the north and west walls, and the light from the window fell on an upholstered chair and footstool whose fabric was fading. Beside the chair was a small table holding a lamp and a pair of spectacles.

Claudia went to them first. “These were Joseph’s! He complained of misplacing them near the end. He must have used the room.”

“And no one since, I should think,” Ben said, trailing a finger through the dust on the top of one case.

Claudia was now peering into the cases. “I see some correspondence tied with a ribbon—letters from Joseph’s mother, perhaps, while he was away at school? Some of the books were among his favorites, but much of this appears to be juvenilia—simple drawings, schoolroom essays, that sort of thing. I cannot conceive he would enshrine his own, yet why would he hide Frederick’s work? Georgie would love to have it.”

“Who’s he?” Oliver asked, nodding to a painting of a young man, which hung above the cases.

Claudia went to study it. “I don’t recognize him. It can’t be Frederick. The hair color is wrong.”

Behind them, someone sucked in an audible gasp.

Claudia looked to her maid, who was backing away from the room as if it did indeed contain the gas and spiders Sir Winfred had warned against.

“I must tell the others,” the maid said before fleeing.

Frowning, Claudia looked at the portrait again. Then her brow cleared, and she reared back. Her gaze darted from the spectacles to the painting to the other portfolios carefully locked behind glass.

“Sir Winfred,” she said, voice more subdued than Ben had ever heard it. “Would you and Oliver help make sure the others know that we found the room? Tell them I’ll explain later.”

“Claudia,” the baronet started, mustache quivering, “I am sorry.”

She nodded and turned her face away.

“I don’t understand,” Ben said, concerned, after Sir Winfred and Oliver had left. “What is it? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Not a ghost.” Her face was nearly white. “I always wondered why Joseph never minded that we had no children. He had his heir in Frederick, but why marry a young woman if not hoping for more?” Her voice trembled. “Don’t you see, Ben? He had more. Just over the hill. He had another family.”

A tear fell, and her head dropped. There was nothing for it. Ben wrapped his arms around her and held her as she cried.

Another family. A family never recognized by any legal court. Had the Duke of Tyneham, her husband, supported them in the end? What had become of them now? Surely they still lived nearby.

And how cruel to deny his bride the one thing she craved—a child to love.

“I thought I’d done a good job,” she murmured, clutching at the lapels of Ben’s waistcoat as if she had to do something with her hands. “I wasn’t raised in a manor, but I managed it for him. I entertained his friends and family. I graced his arm in London at formal court appearances. I was his willing partner. Why didn’t he tell me? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Ben pulled her closer. “I didn’t know you then, but from what I’ve seen, you are amazing. You manage this estate, you help others with no thought to your own needs. You were likely more than your husband knew or deserved. It wasn’t you who was lacking, Claudia. It was him.”

She hiccoughed back a sob, as if she wanted to believe him. “I don’t know what to tell the others.”

“Tell them we found some personal items belonging to your husband,” he said. “And then have one of the staff you trust most pack them up and put them in storage. I’d say burn them, but it is rather good art.”

That wrung a laugh from her. She turned her face up to his, then went still. Only her eyes moved, as if tracing the bend of his brow, the line of his nose, and the curve of his lips.

The yearning inside him was impossible to ignore. She deserved to know she was beautiful, valued, treasured more than any of this art, more than any other person the duke had taken to his bosom. Ben touched her cheek, marveling in the softness.

Again her lips trembled, as if she felt the same yearnings. She leaned toward him.

He bent his head and kissed her.

Her lips were soft, warm, and salted by her tears. Her body fit against his, as if this was where she belonged. He wanted to hold her closer, protect her from anyone who would dare threaten her, promise her the moon and more.

He had the right to do none of those things, but in that moment, with her in his arms, he dared to dream.

* * *

Oh, the sweetness, the joy! Claudia had been kissed on the hand by many a gentleman over the years. Certainly Joseph had kissed her on occasion. She wasn’t sure why she had leaned toward Ben so hopefully, but she would never have imagined that a kiss could make her feel so beautiful, so admired.

So loved.

No, no. It couldn’t be love. She’d known Ben far too short a time for that. And yet she could not deny the tenderness that overcame her as he pulled away.

He opened his mouth, shut it again. Gave her a hesitant smile.

“Ah,” Claudia said, a familiar hurt stepping into her heart as if returning home. “You regret that.”

“Never,” he said. His fingers caressed her jaw, sending another tremor through her. “But I have a feeling you will. And for that, I am sorry.”

Noises in the duke’s bedchamber had him stepping a more suitable distance away. Claudia seized his arm and drew him out the door, shutting it firmly behind her.

Georgie’s and Sophia’s eyes were bright as they hurried past the bed, the staff crowding in the doorway behind them.

“You found it!” Georgie caroled.

“Well done,” Sophia added.

Claudia made herself smile. “Yes, we found it. Terribly disappointing. Nothing but dust, I fear. Still, it was an interesting diversion.”

Their faces fell. Coming to join them, Oliver frowned. Mr. Kinsle herded the other staff back to work.

Ben went to put an arm about his son. “Let’s take a walk, Oliver.” He offered Claudia an encouraging smile before leading his son away.

Left alone with Claudia and Georgie, Sophia put her hands on her hips. “It wasn’t dust, was it.”

Claudia sank onto the armchair by the hearth, the leather crackling. “No. It wasn’t.”

Georgie knelt beside her on the rug, face puckering. “Dearest, you’re flushed. What happened?”

Sophia glanced toward the door. “Has it anything to do with Mr. Warden?”

“Nothing,” Claudia told her, though she felt her face warm anew. “I’m afraid I have difficult news, and it affects you too, Georgie.”

Georgie rose to close the door, then she and Sophia perched on the bed across from Claudia, faces now somber, waiting for her to continue.

She could find ways to make it more palatable, less salacious, but they deserved the truth.

“It appears the fourth Duke of Tyneham had a mistress,” Claudia said.

Georgie pressed a hand to her heart.

Sophia shook her head. “That isn’t surprising. I’m fairly sure the sixth duke was unfaithful.”

Georgie gasped, staring at her. “Oh, surely not! You were married less than a year!”

“And it wasn’t a love match, as you very well know,” Sophia shot back. “Don’t you dare pity me. I knew what I was marrying and why.”

Claudia rose to go take her hand. “We all saw the cruelties the sixth duke heaped upon you. But my marriage was a great deal happier. At least, I thought so.” She released Sophia’s hand to bite her lip, glancing toward the panel that hid the secret room.

No, she would not indulge this pain, this ache. She was still the Duchess of Tyneham. Squaring her shoulders, she told them what she’d discovered.

“But this other son wouldn’t be legitimate,” Georgie said, glancing between Claudia and Sophia. “He wouldn’t stand to inherit.”

“No,” Claudia agreed. “But that doesn’t mean the Darling family doesn’t owe him support of some kind. Unfortunately, I don’t know if he still resides in the area or what should be done about the matter.”

“The will,” Sophia said. “That’s where to start. See if there’s any bequest to a local family.”

Claudia nodded slowly. “Yes, of course. Joseph left bequests to a number of the staff and tenants. One of them is likely the family we seek. Thank you, Sophia. I can scarcely think.”

Georgie reached out to take her hand. “We will stand by you, dear. You know that.”

“I know,” Claudia said, tears gathering anew. “For now, say nothing to anyone outside the manor. I will ask Sir Winfred to do the same.”

They all left the duke’s bedchamber together. Before the current duke took possession of the room, Claudia would have to find a way to remove Joseph’s things.

If only she knew what to do with them.