Page 5 of The Duke’s Bride (The Duke’s Alliance #6)

Beau travelled back to Elveden Hall with his thoughts in as much disarray as his appearance.

First two delightful children had insinuated themselves into his life and now their mama was having the same effect on him.

He closed his eyes and immediately her face was clear to him.

She had glorious golden hair the colour of ripe corn, periwinkle blue eyes and a perfect feminine figure.

She laughed readily, was without doubt intelligent, and obviously a devoted mother to her children.

What had Sofia said to him before he left? ‘Beau, there is a woman out there somewhere for you to fall in love with. One day you will meet her and you will know at once she is the one you will marry.’

He was the only one of his siblings unmarried and his brothers and sisters had all made a love match.

They were blissfully happy and he certainly envied them that.

He sat straighter on the squabs. He was almost five and thirty, a confirmed bachelor, had no wish to disrupt his well-ordered life with a wife and possibly a nursery full of squalling babies.

Would he ever be prepared to sacrifice all this for a woman he had just met?

He smiled wryly. He almost thought he would, but that would be the height of folly.

Romantic love was not, despite his siblings’ experience, the basis for a lifelong partnership.

He would need to know a lot more about Lady Fenchurch before he made a commitment.

He was chuckling at his foolishness when he strolled inside his own domain.

He had spent barely a quarter of an hour in her company and most of that had been spent dealing with her scalded dog.

Thinking about such an animal being allowed into the drawing room against all common sense and decency made him push away the romantic nonsense.

Teaching Thomas was another thing altogether. It would enhance his own determination to improve his composition and ability on the piano. He would ask Bishop for information about the family, for they must be the most prestigious in the neighbourhood.

He had informed Foster that he would not dress for dinner, did not wish a formal meal to be served in the dining room, but instead would eat simply in the breakfast parlour.

He had also insisted that he would eat no earlier than five o’clock, which gave him ample time to change out of his ruined jacket and into something dry.

Then he would spend the remaining time preparing tomorrow’s lesson for the boy.

The child was adept at his scales but his fingering was incorrect, which meant he would not be able to play some of the more complex chords as he progressed.

This was what he would begin with. He became so immersed in his music that a servant was obliged to bang a gong loudly in the doorway to attract his attention.

He was sharp-set, had eaten nothing since he broke his fast at seven o’clock that morning.

The children had fallen on the pastries with such enthusiasm he had not had the heart to take any for himself.

He drank two glasses of excellent claret with his dinner and then returned to the music room for a further few hours.

* * *

He was waiting in the entrance hall when the carriage from Fenchurch Manor rolled to a standstill. The massive dog had trotted alongside as it had the previous evening. He had already instructed a groom to find the animal somewhere warm to wait.

The coachman would remain here with his team until the lesson was finished. It made no sense to tire the horses unnecessarily by making them do four journeys instead of two. The horses would be unharnessed and put in the stables until word was sent for them to be got ready for the return.

The footman opened the door and Beau was surprised, and a little annoyed, to find the girl had accompanied her brother. They seemed oblivious to his disapproval.

‘Good morning, Mr Sheldon, my brother and I are grateful to be…’

‘Lady Elizabeth, have you come for a piano lesson?’

She looked at him as if he was speaking in tongues. ‘I have not. It is my brother who is musical, not I.’

‘In which case you will not come again uninvited. I am not your nursemaid. I am surprised that the countess has allowed you to accompany him.’

For the first time in their brief acquaintance she looked uncomfortable. Her cheeks coloured and she would not meet his eye. ‘Mama is not aware that I have come too, sir. She believes me to be in the schoolroom attending to my embroidery.’

The two of them were still waiting to have their outdoor garments removed by the footman. ‘Escort Lady Elizabeth back to her carriage. She is to return home.’

The child’s demeanour changed from embarrassed to furious in a second. She stamped her foot and pointed to him as if he were her servant. ‘I do not take orders from you, sir. I shall stay here with my brother and that is the end of the matter.’

He stepped forward, picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of corn. When she kicked him, he laughed and she remained still from that moment onwards. The footman had had the sense to stop the carriage disappearing to the coach house.

Beau opened the door with one hand and tossed the snivelling child inside. He slammed it shut and waved to the coachman who made no effort to hide his inappropriate smile of approval. The carriage moved forward and he could hear the yells of rage coming from inside as it disappeared down the drive.

It only then occurred to him that Thomas might react with equal violence after seeing his sister being treated so cavalierly. The reverse was true.

‘I say, sir, that was capital. I love my sister but she believes she can do as she wishes and Mama finds it easier to let her get her own way than suffer from her tantrums.’

‘She is a spirited and intelligent young lady, but my interest is in you and your amazing talent. I see you have divested yourself of your outdoor garments, so shall we begin our lesson?’

* * *

Viola had almost accompanied Thomas to his music lesson.

Mr Sheldon would be spending a considerable amount of time with her beloved son and it behoved her to know as much as possible about him.

She wished now that the carriage would be returning rather than remaining at Elveden.

The weather was far too cold for her to use the gig.

She had no pressing engagements as she had seen her estate manager already this week, had spoken to the housekeeper about menus, and did not receive invitations, or any sort of correspondence that required her attention.

Her mother had taken on the role of charitable giving on the estate and was out delivering comfort parcels to various deserving tenants and villagers, so there was no point in searching her out for company.

Elizabeth must be lonely on her own in the schoolroom.

She and her brother were inseparable and this would be the first time Thomas had gone anywhere without his sibling for support.

Viola wondered whether Brutus had decided to remain here or go with her son.

She frowned. She had not seen the dog since the carriage had departed half an hour ago.

The schoolroom was empty – as far as she could see her daughter had not even been up here today. This could mean only one thing: the naughty girl had gone with her brother despite being told she must not do so. Mr Sheldon would not be pleased. This explained why the dog was also absent.

As she arrived in the hall her carriage arrived at the front door.

The footman, an intelligent young man, was on his way to let down the steps and open the door for her daughter to descend.

Mr Sheldon had done exactly the right thing, but she was certain her daughter would not see it this way and no doubt would treat the household to one of her infamous tantrums.

This time she would not give in to her daughter’s rage. She would stand firm and send Elizabeth to her room in disgrace. She braced herself as a red-faced, furious little girl erupted into the hall.

‘Mama, he threw me into the carriage. You must go at once and fetch Thomas back from that monster.’

For a second Viola almost responded to this outrageous statement by dropping to her knees and offering her sobbing child a shoulder to cry on.

However, she restrained the impulse. ‘Elizabeth, whatever happened to you was entirely your own fault. You were expressly forbidden to accompany your brother. You will go to your room and remain there until I give you permission to come down.’

If she had tipped a bucket of icy water over the child’s head it could not have had a more dramatic result. The crying ceased. Her daughter stared at her open-mouthed. Then without a word she fled upstairs. The force with which she slammed her bedchamber door echoed throughout the house.

The children had moved down from the nursery floor when Nanny had departed after Rupert had died. The only good thing about her marriage had been that once he had his heir he’d had no interest in producing another and therefore had mercifully left her unmolested in her own apartment.

This had not prevented him from beating her when the mood took him.

She had endured his punishments silently, not giving him the satisfaction of hearing her cry or beg for mercy.

The scars on her back from the whip he had used would remain a permanent reminder of the miserable years she had spent married to him.

If she had not allowed him to take out his rage on her, he would have vented it on the children.

She would never remarry and thus repeat her first mistake.