Page 1 of The Duke’s Bride (The Duke’s Alliance #6)

Beau would have preferred to be able to depart without a fuss, but his siblings had decided there must be a family party to send him on his way. For the next six months at least, he would not be known as the Duke of Silchester, but as plain Mr Sheldon.

‘Your grace,’ Peebles the butler said. ‘The carriage with Lady Giselle and Lord Rushton has just arrived.’

He nodded. ‘Do not look so dismayed; my brothers Lord Peregrine and Lord Aubrey can take care of things as well as I in my absence.’

The old man looked unconvinced. ‘Forgive me for saying so, your grace, but there has always been a duke in residence here. Silchester Court will not be the same without you.’

‘Good God, man, I was away for four months last year and the estates did not suffer then.’

His butler sniffed but made no response.

No one on the staff knew where he was going or that he was intending to live as a commoner and spend time pursuing his interest in music.

When a small boy, his father had told him in no uncertain terms that composing and playing could not feature in the future life of the Duke of Silchester.

Therefore, Beau had had to play and compose in secret and not until recently had any of his family realised how talented he was.

Bennett, the brother closest to him in age and his heir, met him in the passageway outside the study. ‘Are you having second thoughts? No one will think the worse of you if you do decide to stay.’

‘I cannot wait to leave. The thought of having until the summer without the responsibilities of this title, to be able to pursue my music, is something I never thought to experience. I have Sofia to thank for this life-changing occurrence. I thank God every day that Perry married her.’

‘So, you will ride away from here without a second thought? To be honest, I do not blame you one jot. Others envy us our status, titles and wealth, but with these things come burdens and responsibilities that a commoner does not have.’

Beau slapped him on the back. ‘Enough sermonising, brother, we are a close-knit and happy family and I think that it is what other people must envy.’

As they reached the vast entrance hall his younger sister, Giselle, stepped in through the front door. She was so muffled against the elements that she was scarcely recognisable. His closest friend, her husband, strode across and shook his hand vigorously.

‘It seems only a short while since we were here for Christmas…’

His sister laughed. ‘That is because it is only a short while, my love.’ She threw herself into his arms and he hugged her.

‘You have left the children behind this time?’

‘The baby is too small to travel so far and the girls were quite happy to remain and keep him company.’

‘If I tell you I am relieved that children are not included in this farewell party, I hope you will not be offended. I much prefer the company of adults, which is one reason I have never made a real effort to find myself a wife.’

‘You’re becoming a curmudgeon, Beau, and you are not yet five and thirty. We are all hoping being away from us, being able to spend time doing something that has been denied you all your life, will restore your joie de vivre .’

The drawing room was overflowing with those he loved most in this world: Madeline with her husband Grey, the twins Aubrey and Perry with their wives, Giselle and Rushton, and Bennett with his wife Grace. He would miss them all but not enough to prevent him from departing tomorrow morning.

The remainder of the day was spent in convivial conversation, lively debate and ended with him giving them a recital of his latest composition. When he played the piano he became someone else entirely, not a man who was known by his title nor his abilities.

He embraced them all and retreated to the privacy of his study for the last time.

He would be travelling to a small estate, which only his man of affairs, Carstairs, knew the name and whereabouts of.

This was a small but prosperous estate in Suffolk called Elveden Hall.

The previous tenant had died suddenly, leaving it unoccupied but fully staffed.

He had purchased a modest travelling carriage and a pair of nondescript bay geldings to pull it.

He was travelling to London by the common stage, which would be an experience in itself, and would rendezvous with his vehicle and two newly appointed coachmen on his arrival in the metropolis.

His trunk had been conveyed there in advance.

He was leaving his valet behind and would have to appoint someone new to fulfil that role when he was settled.

It was imperative that no one accompanied him who knew his real identity and the only way to ensure this was by starting afresh with his servants.

One of his coachmen drove him in a gig to a coaching inn in a town where he was not well known, and he took his place inside the waiting vehicle with some trepidation. The interior was malodorous, the occupants little better, and for a moment he regretted his decision to travel this way.

All his life he had been fêted and lauded, and for the first time he would be treated like everyone else. If he was liked it would be for himself, not for the fact that he was a duke.

The journey to London was mercifully short and he disembarked with alacrity. He discovered his own vehicle on the far side of the large, cobbled yard and introduced himself. He was surprised both coachmen behaved exactly the same way to him as if he had been a duke.

His trunk was tied securely at the back of the carriage and they were ready to depart immediately.

The distance to his new abode from Town necessitated stopping to allow the horses to rest and for himself to get refreshment, as well as an overnight stop in Colchester.

The Red Lion in the High Street was perfectly satisfactory and after having spent four months living rough in Spain whilst he was searching for his brother, Perry, he found he was less fussy than he had used to be.

Elveden Hall was but a few miles from the market town of Ipswich and it was here that he must go if he wished to attend an assembly – not that he thought this was something he would do.

The carriage turned into a well-weeded drive that stretched arrow-straight to an ancient but substantial building.

The surrounding parkland was kept trim by a herd of deer.

The windows on either side of the front door were sparkling in the winter sunlight.

The turning circle had recently been raked, no doubt in advance of his arrival.

As far as the indoor staff and outside men were concerned, he had purchased the property and was not a tenant as the previous occupant had been.

The front door opened as the carriage turned.

A surprisingly young man dressed in black appeared on the doorstep.

Presumably he was the butler and the older woman in brown bombazine was the housekeeper.

A footman in smart bottle-green livery hurried over to let down the steps and open the door for him to descend.

He was bowed in with as much ceremony as when he arrived at Silchester and he began to suspect that somehow the servants were aware of his true identity.

‘I am Foster, butler here, sir, and this is Reynolds, housekeeper at your service.’

‘I have no valet. I recently returned from abroad and have not yet had time to find someone who will suit. Is there a footman who can serve me for the moment?’

‘Bishop has served in this position occasionally for visiting gentlemen. I shall have him attend you at once, sir.’

Beau paused to speak to the housekeeper. ‘I prefer plain food served hot. Apart from that I have no need to be apprised of the menus unless I am entertaining.’

The woman curtsied and seemed satisfied with his request. ‘Would you like me to show you around, sir, or would you prefer to do this alone?’

‘It is a small house. I doubt that I shall get lost.’

He handed the butler his caped coat, gloves and beaver and then began his exploration. The moderately sized entrance hall had two sets of double doors, one on either side, as well as the passageway that led from the rear. He assumed that was to the servants’ quarters.

On the right was a small but beautifully proportioned drawing room and a single door at the far end led into a dining room that would seat at the most twenty people.

This chamber had two doors, one of which led to a small, more feminine sitting room and the other to the breakfast parlour.

He retraced his steps and crossed the hall.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw the magnificent piano standing at the far end of this second large reception room.

There was also a harp and a harpsichord – neither of which interested him.

He strode the length of the room, revealed the keys and ran his hands along them.

The instrument was perfectly tuned. He pulled out the piano stool and sat down.

Within minutes he was lost in his music and knew that he had made the right decision to abandon his responsibilities and spend time on his passion.

* * *

‘My dear Viola, I have so much to tell you. Will you not sit down for a moment and listen to your mama?’

‘I cannot do so until I have located the twins. Thomas and Elizabeth have been absent from the schoolroom without permission for over an hour and, despite sending out every available servant to look for them, they have not yet been located.’

‘They are missing their papa, my love. If you were to allow them a little less freedom and take a tighter grip on the reins then you will find things easier.’

Viola bit back a sharp retort. ‘Rupert died three years ago. I doubt that they can even remember him as they were only five years old at the time. Thomas has inherited the earldom and will be in charge of vast estates when he reaches his majority and must learn to take responsibility for his actions even though he is still a child.’