Page 2 of His Extraordinary Duchess

Chapter Two

A s soon as she was certain Mr. Kinsle had shown the architect out, Claudia went in search of the others. It would not do for Mr. Warden to see how badly his words had shaken her. If the duke insisted on this remodeling, she was facing a battle of epic proportions, one she could not win without reinforcements.

Very likely Mr. Warden had wondered at her reticence. She hadn’t been born and raised in this house, like her late husband and stepson. She came from less exalted beginnings. Perhaps that was why she so appreciated the history and grandeur that was Tyneham Manor.

“Why, it’s huge!” she’d cried as she’d sat beside her new husband and the house had come into view up the long drive for the first time. Built from golden sandstone, with silvered limestone dressings at each corner, the main house and its west and east wings had windows edged with white, like welcoming eyes looking out at the carefully landscaped park around them. She’d never seen anything like it in London.

Joseph, as he’d asked her to call him, had chuckled. “Not nearly as large as some, my dear, but I think you’ll find it a suitable place to call home.”

For much of her life, she’d done just that. She’d roamed the corridors that ran the length of the main block and each wing. She’d devoured the books lining the library walls. She’d sat in the portrait gallery or the sculpture gallery and contemplated great works of art. She’d hosted countless dinner parties in the ground floor dining room and filled the twelve guest bedchambers on the upper two stories with people both noble and notable.

Of course she’d redecorated a bit along the way, and Joseph had insisted on turning the withdrawing room on the ground floor into a game room. Georgina, the fifth duchess and Claudia’s daughter-in-law, had made some changes to the sitting room as well. It was still paneled in dark wood that marked much of Tyneham Manor, but the curved-back sofa and two armchairs opposite were upholstered in a deep rose, and the carpet bore concentric circles of roses, vines, and diamonds. But that was nothing to actually moving walls or changing the shape of the house!

She marched into the sitting room to find Georgina and Sophia, widow of the previous duke, seated on either end of the sofa. They could not be more different, in looks and in temperament. Georgie insisted on wearing black for the man she had loved dearly, though her year of mourning had ended in November, and she tended to allow her blond hair to be sleeked back severely from her round face.

Sophia refused to wear black for her duke, who had been such a wastrel. Today, she was gowned in a saffron muslin with a lace ruff at her throat. The color brought out the gold in her light brown hair, which hung in ringlets beside her face. Neither appeared to notice Claudia standing in the doorway.

“The insufferable man plans to demolish the manor!” she announced.

Georgie widened her sky blue eyes and clasped her embroidery to her ample bosom. “No!”

Sophia closed the book she had been reading. “I find that hard to believe.”

Claudia drew in a breath through her nose. “Believe it. I just finished a conversation with the architect he sent. He will be joining us for dinner.”

Georgie’s brows drew together. “The duke?”

“The architect.” Claudia went to perch on a chair across from them. “I shall need your help in managing him.”

Sophia smiled, her green eyes lighting. “You have it, but you’ve dealt with far more difficult gentlemen. I doubt this architect will offer much of a challenge.”

More than Claudia would have liked. Every time he’d moved she’d been mindful of the strength that must lie in such a physique. Every time he’d spoken, a little shiver had gone through her. And when he smiled? Oh, she was not to be held accountable for her actions!

“Regardless,” she said, “help is never amiss.”

Georgie set aside her embroidery and took out a lace-edged handkerchief, which had already been dampened that day if its limp state were any indication. “But surely His Grace would not evict us.”

His Grace would be in his rights to do so. The dower house, where Mr. Warden would be staying, had been designed for the wife of a former duke. It was a cozy place built from silvery limestone, with bow windows in the middle of the ground and first floors. There was a dining room that could accommodate up to six persons, a sitting room overlooking the copse of trees that separated the house from the manor, and rooms in the attics for a small staff. But with only two bedchambers on the first floor, it had never been designed to shelter three dowagers!

“His Grace certainly didn’t seem as if he intended to oust us,” Sophia reminded Claudia and Georgie. “He was rather pleasant during his brief visit at Christmas.”

“Pleasant and willing to commit to nothing,” Claudia said.

Sophia picked up her book again. “Well, he had just learned he had inherited. I imagine it took some time to adjust to the change. After all, he used to be a historian, tracking down other people’s lineages.”

Georgie glanced between them. “So you think he can be reasoned with?”

“The duke or the architect?” Sophia asked, gaze on the page.

“Both?”

“The duke, likely not,” Claudia said. “You know how a man gets when he discovers that he has the wealth and power to do whatever he pleases. But the architect will be used to working with his clients. We simply have to convince him that we are his clients, not the duke.”

“That,” Sophia told her book as she turned the page, “should not be a problem.”

Claudia rose. “We’ll start this very evening. Dress for dinner tonight. And Georgie, bring Anastasia.”

Georgie brightened. “This will be fun!”

Claudia wouldn’t have called it fun, not with the future of her home at stake, but she could not deny that she was looking forward to the evening.

Normally, with only the three of them in residence, they did not bother changing for dinner. Tonight, she had her maid set out the crimson velvet Claudia generally saved for more important occasions.

“You wish to impress this visitor, oui ?” her maid asked, smoothing down the heavy skirts.

Was Claudia so transparent? “I wish Mr. Warden to know who is in charge of Tyneham Manor.”

Violette nodded, warm brown hair catching the light. Claudia hadn’t been sure about the maid when she’d first appeared at the manor with a letter of hire from His Grace. She had a heavy French accent, and she had requested to be called by her first name, as if she disdained her family name of Collier.

But Violette had soon proven a walking testament to her skills. Her hair might be confined behind her head, but a few curls framed a face in a way that drew attention to her deep brown eyes. She wore a black dress like many of the staff, but she’d tailored it to better outline her willowy figure. Her demeanor was both humble and authoritative.

“Then tonight,” her maid said now, “we will include rubies at your ears and throat, but not your coronet, I think. You will show you are the duchess merely by your presence. Let him marvel at you.”

Claudia smiled. “Do what you wish, my dear. I trust you implicitly.”

Violette waved to the stool in front of the dressing table and Claudia’s mirror. Raised in a London townhouse, which had come at a price her parents could barely afford to pay, Claudia had been used to narrower rooms and simpler furnishings, particularly in the private parts of the house that no one would see. Here at Tyneham Manor, her huge bedchamber was outfitted with fine mahogany furnishings and velvet bed hangings.

True, Robert, the last duke, had ousted Claudia for his new bride, Sophia. But, once he had had the exceeding misfortune to be shot by a jealous husband in a duel, Sophia had insisted that Claudia return to the room where she had spent her married life.

But the previous duke certainly hadn’t attempted to remodel anything. The house had been heralded as an architectural gem, a shining example of the Palladian style made famous by Inigo Jones and the Italian virtuosos. What were His Grace and Mr. Warden thinking to change it!

“I will speak with Mrs. Kinsle,” Violette said as she expertly twisted Claudia’s hair into a single plait that fell to one side. “Ask her to pay particular attention to how she presents the other ladies as well.”

Mrs. Kinsle, Maisy, had been a maid of all work who had married their butler a month ago. When they’d lost so many staff, Maisy had shown skill at arranging hair and caring for clothing, so she was now the lady’s maid to Georgie and Sophia.

Maisy must have taken Violette’s advice to heart, because when Claudia came down to the dining room a short time later, Kashmir shawl draped about her shoulders, she found both of the other dowagers in satin—Georgie in a rich brown and Sophia in a vibrant green, and jewels sparkled at their throats as well. Sophia put a hand to her diamond tiara.

“Too much?” she asked.

Claudia smiled. “Perfect.”

A yip drew her attention to the fat pug twirling in circles in front of her on the green and blue patterned Aubusson carpet. “And even Anastasia is in her best looks.”

The dog stopped and gazed up at her, her black face curved in a smile.

“Come here, darling,” Georgie said, patting her skirts, and the pug trotted obediently to her.

“Should we wait in the sitting room instead?” Sophia asked, glancing at the door.

“No,” Claudia said. “Sit in your usual places. He’ll be along shortly.”

Claudia took her spot at the head of the table. Unlike at the dower house, the dining room in Tyneham Manor had been built to entertain kings. The white coffered ceiling was inlaid with plaster like a Greek temple, as was the white marble fireplace. The walls were paneled in carved squares with a decided tint of gold about them, with paintings hanging in gilded frames. And the damask draped cherry-wood table, currently set up for six, could be extended to seat up to twenty persons.

Georgie took her place at Claudia’s right, Sophia at her left. Mr. Kinsle, standing by the door that led to the serving room, looked at Claudia askance, but she shook her head. Then she trained her gaze on the dining room door.

From the entry hall came the sound of a knock. She exchanged smiles with Georgie and Sophia, then put on her brightest smile.

“Say something witty,” she told Sophia.

Sophia also squared her shoulders, as if dining with the Prince Regent himself. “And so I told the duke that he must surely buy that hunter, as the horse was the same color as his dinner jacket.”

Georgie raised her gloved hand and tittered.

“Mr. Warden, Your Graces,” Mr. Kinsle announced.

Claudia turned her gaze on their guest as if by merest chance. Once again, the look of him slammed into her. He too had dressed for the evening, in a coat of blue superfine that outlined his frame, white satin breeches, and a blue and white striped waistcoat.

He bowed from the waist. “Your Graces. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Please,” Claudia managed with a wave to the chair next to Sophia. Her fingers trembled, and she dropped her hand into her lap. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t some green girl on her first Season! She’d dined with princes, kings!

He came forward and took the seat she had indicated.

“Georgina and Sophia, Dowager Duchesses of Tyneham, allow me to present Mr. Benjamin Warden of London,” Claudia said before nodding to Mr. Kinsle to begin the dinner service.

“Of Dorset,” Mr. Warden corrected her with a smile. “My parents retired to Grace-by-the-Sea some years ago. I hope to join them there after completing this project.”

“Then we shall do our best to send you to them quickly,” Claudia said.

His smile dipped just the slightest, but they were all spared further conversation as the footmen brought in a white soup, a platter of salmon, and a bowl of cauliflower swimming in cheese sauce. The second course would feature any game their gamekeeper had managed to bag that day or the day before. Only one remove in the country when not entertaining, so the footmen only had to change the serving dishes once. She missed the big dinners, the long conversations on politics and literature, the dancing. But her husband’s heir and Georgie had needed Claudia’s help to run the estate, and then the next duke had needed even more assistance after suddenly ascending to the title and marrying Sophia.

And now Claudia had to manage a duke who thought to tear into the very foundation of his inheritance!

“I understand His Grace commissioned your services,” Sophia said to Mr. Warden as they started on the soup. “How did you meet him?”

He hurriedly swallowed his mouthful. “I had been working with George Dance the Younger on several civic projects when His Grace sought me out. I didn’t ask how he located me.”

Didn’t dare question his good fortune, more like. Becoming an architect known for designing Great Houses was likely to be highly rewarding, in more ways than one.

Anastasia trotted around the table to stop beside Claudia and look up expectantly. Claudia shook her head. Despite the fact that she never fed the pug while dining, Anastasia persisted in begging. Now she turned in a circle again, then stopped hopefully.

“Shoo,” Claudia whispered, waving a hand.

Anastasia trotted on to her next victim.

If only Claudia could get rid of the architect so easily. But he conversed with Georgie and Sophia with charm, never crossing the line into anything more. Had he felt that moment, in the library earlier, when it almost seemed as if they were flirting? She certainly hoped not!

But only time would tell.

* * *

Ben finished the last bite of hare with pleasure. At least he wouldn’t starve on this project. Of course, first he had to convince the dowagers that he had their best interests at heart.

No, not all three. As the dinner had worn on, he’d realized that Claudia, the first dowager, was the key. The others always referred back to her, seeking her opinion on any subject and nodding sagely at her comments. She was the linchpin. If he could get her on his side, all would be well.

“Mr. Warden claims to have an interesting process for designing homes,” Claudia said as the footmen removed the last of the savory dishes and brought out a handsome strawberry syllabub in crystal goblets. They must have a greenhouse to force the fruit so early.

“And what would that be?” the pretty blonde asked. She would be the wife of the fifth duke, which made her the second dowager.

“I ask a lot of questions,” he supplied.

She regarded him, head cocked. “What sorts of questions?”

“Well,” Ben said from across the table, “what do you love about your home, Your Grace?”

She looked around at the others and beamed. “The company.”

The youngest smiled back. She would be the third dowager, widowed most recently, though neither the color of her satin gown nor the amount of embellishment on it gave any indication.

Claudia nodded. “I think he had something more structural in mind, dear.”

The second dowager’s smile melted.

“No, not necessarily,” Ben told them all. “Her Grace says she enjoys the company. Therefore, I must be mindful to maintain sufficient spaces for gathering.”

Her smile returned. “Oh, yes, please. And I’d be very glad for a larger library.” She leaned across the table. “And more shelves for books.”

“And a music room,” the third dowager put in. “We make do at present with the piano in the sitting room. But Georgina is a talented pianist, and I’d love a larger space with better acoustics that would do her justice.”

The second duchess ducked her head, cheeks pinking. “Thank you, Sophia.”

The pug, who had been circling the table all night, paused beside him and yipped.

They all waited expectantly.

Was he supposed to address the little girl? She cocked her head, dark eyes bright, as if she expected it. What had Her Grace called her pet?

“And what would you like, Anastasia?” he asked, feeling the fool.

Anastasia bounced up and down, tongue lolling, as if she knew the answer.

The second duchess giggled, a sweet sound. “She would like a covered walkway, where we could go out on rainy days.”

“Or perhaps a conservatory?” he suggested.

She clapped her hands, and the dog yipped again as if agreeing. “That would be marvelous!”

Claudia toyed with her syllabub. “All this discussion is well and good, but such changes would tear into the very heart of Tyneham Manor. I cannot be comfortable with that.”

He inclined his head. “And what do you like best about the manor, Your Grace?”

“The history,” she said, raising her gaze to his as if in challenge, “the tradition. The Dukes of Tyneham have been protecting these lands for seven generations. Dozens of tenants, all those in the village, and the staff here at the manor depend upon us. Maintaining Tyneham Manor’s health and viability is a sacred obligation.”

The other two nodded, sobering. Even the pug lowered her head as if in reverence.

“Then we will be sure to honor that obligation,” he said.

Claudia regarded him as if she doubted that.

“I understand you’ll be staying in the dower house,” the youngest duchess put in as if to change the subject.

“Oh, surely not,” the second duchess cried. “It’s so far away.” She turned to Claudia. “We must have him at the manor.”

Ben held up his hand before they went any further. He needed that distance, for more reasons than one. “The dower house is perfectly fine, Your Grace. I tend to keep odd hours. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

She frowned as if she intended to argue, but Claudia nodded.

“There, you see? The dower house will be perfect for this situation. I don’t expect Mr. Warden to be with us for long.”

Not if he didn’t find a way to convince her to trust him.