Page 2 of The Wise Daughter

Aaron Derricott, once known in far-away places as a ruddy lad with a quick mind and an itch for exploring, was now returned home where he was suddenly and most forcefully slapped with titles.

He was the Duke of Ravenglass, the Marquess of Wasdale, the Earl of Eskdale, and so on and so on.

He had known from the start that such was his birthright.

Earl, for example, had long been his, but he had always kept it tucked in his pocket, one of the benefits of growing up abroad, he supposed, but the lofty title of Duke and the need to be known by it should have been decades away.

Yet, there he stood with clenched fists and tightened jaw, the newest, most miserable duke in all of England.

He leaned forward on the windowsill of his study, surrounded by shelves of worn, leather-bound books that were only starting to feel familiar after so many years away.

With sights of Hesse-Kassel, Vienna, and Rome still in his head, he looked out at the same horizon he had been gazing at for the past three months and listened to his overly protective steward, Carver, report unfortunate news.

“Another painting is missing, Your Grace.” Carver’s wood-brown hair was slicked straight back, neat and proper and shamelessly displaying his shining forehead and a receding hairline that made Aaron think of bare sea-side cliffs he had once climbed.

“Which one this time?”

Carver was just the messenger, he reminded himself.

It wasn’t his fault that, ever since Aaron’s father had died, a thief or thieves –for he had no clue how many were involved– had regularly infiltrated the castle.

So far, they had taken paintings, silverware, candlesticks, jewelry, and probably several other things he had no idea existed in this vast fortress.

“A portrait of your mother, the one hanging in the west wing gallery. Or rather, it was hanging there before…”

“Blast!” That painting had been a favorite.

It was the one portrait of his mother just as he remembered her with soft, auburn curls like his, only longer and gracefully styled, kind hazel eyes, and hands delicately clasped in her lap but always ready for an embrace.

Now it was gone. Was it mere coincidence the thieves had a knack for taking things that held the most sentimental value for him?

He fingered his signet ring, one of two that he owned. While one sat locked in his desk for official use, this one he kept on his finger, a reminder of his mother who used to wear it round her neck on a chain.

“And the footmen, the stablehands, the maids? Did anyone see anything?”

Carver lowered his head. “No, Your Grace.”

“What is the purpose of stealing my mother’s portrait?” He mumbled the fruitless question to himself. “Do they think I won’t go after them? Do they think they can rob me and get away with it?” So far, that was exactly what they had done.

Carver was silent.

Aaron looked away, refusing to let his steward see other questions behind his eyes. How was he supposed to summon the strength to go after thieves while he was still struggling to accept the loss of his father?

Far out along the horizon, rolling storm clouds blocked the sun and dulled the sea, but he could imagine its silver waters crashing on the shores he used to visit with his father.

Though Aaron hadn’t visited those shores in the three months he had been home, he could still remember the conversation he’d had with his father the last time he had been there.

“Not to worry, son.” His father reached over and tousled his hair when his sandcastle collapsed. “One day, the best castle of all will be yours.”

“Holmrook Castle?” Aaron was not impressed. “It’s already mine.”

“It might be your home now, but I’m talking about when I’m gone and you’re grown. Then you’ll be the duke.”

“I don’t want to be the duke if it means you have to leave.”

His father laughed softly. “I have no plans on leaving, but I do hope to teach you what a great responsibility and privilege it is to be the duke.”

Aaron frowned. “Can’t we just make another sandcastle?”

His father pushed a large armful of sand in his direction.

“Today, yes, but tomorrow, I intend to start you on a new course. I’m going to take you from your tutors for an hour or two each day to teach you about everything I do.

” He leaned close and whispered. “I’ll teach you the castle’s every secret. ”

The memory swam in Aaron’s head, rising and falling like the tide.

His father never delivered on his promise.

The following day, Aaron had accidentally set fire to the stables.

Fortunately, one of the stablehands had quickly put it out before anyone was hurt, but one of the horses had suffered burns on its leg.

Aaron clearly remembered the terrifying dread of how angry his father would be when he learned of the accident, but he was only relieved Aaron was all right.

Aaron was relieved too, but everything changed after that.

His father grew distant and distracted. He made arrangements to send Aaron to a far-away school in Hesse-Kassel, insisting it was for the best.

Now, years later, Aaron had hardly stepped into his father’s shoes, and already, Holmrook Castle was crumbling like one of his sandcastles.

Aaron shook himself away from his ten-year-old self and settled back to the present day.

“I want Vander and Ruthers on watch tonight.”

Carver hesitated. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Ruthers was a recent addition to the staff, but Aaron had known him for years. Though Carver hadn’t said so directly, Aaron could tell he did not approve of Ruthers. It shouldn’t have mattered whether his steward approved, but it did.

The last letter Aaron had received from his father included the direct admonition that he listen to Carver.

Having served as the late duke’s steward, Carver understood how to run things.

So Aaron heeded his father’s final counsel by regularly deferring to Carver’s judgement, and Carver fulfilled his responsibilities by moving from his usual home on the estate into the castle to offer Aaron greater assistance.

At first, Carver’s counsel was a relief.

Aaron could hide in his bedchamber as he tried to make sense of a home without his parents.

He could bear the pain of grief alone knowing Carver was at the helm, but when Aaron noticed valuables going missing, Carver became more than a steward.

He became a hovering mother hen who employed the full sway of the late duke’s admonition to keep Aaron out of sight and, thereby, out of danger.

If there was a thief among them, they would not find access to Aaron.

Most days, Aaron hardly roamed further than his bedchamber and study, and before he knew it, three months had passed in a numbing daze.

A knock on the door was soon followed by the butler, Chuff. “Pardon the interruption, Your Grace, but a message just arrived. I’m told it’s urgent.” He handed Aaron the missive and left.

As soon as Aaron saw the arrogant handwriting, he crumpled it in his fist.

“Lord Bilford?” Carver discerned.

Aaron nodded, then reluctantly uncrumpled the paper to read.

Dear Ravenglass,

You cannot be at a loss for why I write. I, however, have lost count of the number of times I have entreated you to do the honorable thing…

Aaron’s hand constricted around the paper again and tossed it onto the burning logs on the grate. “It’s the same rubbish. It isn’t my responsibility to replenish his dwindling coffers.”

“Let me handle it, Your Grace,” Carver pled, watching the paper blacken and curl. “You already have enough on your mind.”

Aaron shook his head as the smoky scent of burning paper wafted toward him. Though troubles were piling around him, he was waking up from his daze. If he was going to honor his father’s name and title, he needed to start acting like the duke.

“Bilford claims it is a matter of my honor, though what this says about his, I don’t know.”

Lord Bilford of Keswick insisted that Aaron pay a debt the former duke had supposedly owed him.

Aaron didn’t see why he should pay it. He had had nothing to do with the strange wager Lord Bilford claimed to have won, and though Aaron had no idea how he was going to handle Bilford’s demands, he did not want to pass yet another matter on to Carver.

“Anything else to report?”

Carver released a sigh but answered evenly. “There has been more talk. The servants are worried Holmrook Castle is not safe. People are saying you are not fit to be duke.”

Aaron’s shoulders tensed. “What do you make of their talk?”

“That is difficult to say. The people respect the title, just as they respected the old duke, but they feel the change.”

Carver’s words plucked at Aaron’s feelings more than he could have known. “The people need to see me keeping order, Carver.”

“They will, Your Grace. Give it time.”

Aaron ignored Carver’s attempts to console him. “We’ve been going about this business with the thief the wrong way. I need to stop hiding.” Take the reins back. “I’m convinced that keeping to myself only emboldens our thief. I need to know my people better, and they need to know me.”

“Please, Your Grace–”

“Hiding has done nothing! I want to know the servants here.” Besides a few trusted servants who regularly attended to him, Aaron knew almost none of the staff. “The thief could easily be among them.”

“Exactly. Staying hidden prevents our thief from getting close to you. Your father wouldn’t want you to endanger yourself.”

At the mention of his father, Aaron hesitated, but he had already made up his mind. “I am going to visit the people, Carver. Tomorrow.”

Carver raised both brows. “What? Visit the people? Tomorrow? Visit whom? With no plan, no invitation? Absolutely not.”

“I’m the duke. I don’t need an invitation.”

“But if you go promenading through the village market declaring yourself to be the duke, people may not even believe you. I cannot recommend it, Your Grace.”

“There are several families I have been remiss in not visiting since arriving in Ravenglass.”

“True, Your Grace, but we must not be hasty. I know the people. Given the death of your father and the extenuating circumstances in the castle, they will understand your need to protect yourself while we unravel this thieving trouble. Please, listen to me. I only strive to live up to your father’s express wish for me to guide you. ”

Aaron nodded, waiting for the thickness in his throat to subside before he spoke again. “Thank you, Carver, but you must not forget the final decision lies with me.”

“Of course. I only fear that by consorting with too many people, you become more vulnerable. If this thief should harm you, I would never forgive myself.”

“That means a great deal to me, Carver, but I feel foolish hiding behind the walls of the castle when danger is already within.”

“But that is precisely why we are being careful. I promise, Your Grace, we’ll catch whoever is behind this and expose them to the people.

You’ll have your chance to show your strength and prove that Ravenglass is once again safe.

You’ll make your debut among the people in your moment of victory.

Then we can move on to the matter of selecting an appropriate bride. ”

Aaron quickly turned away, lest Carver see how those last words affected him.

Aaron did want to find a bride as soon as possible.

It was another wish of his father’s, the most strongly expressed in his last letter, and it was likewise Aaron’s deepest hope to find a suitable young woman with whom he could enjoy comfortable companionship and settle the business of producing an heir.

It was, after all, his duty, but it was more than that.

It was a chance at happiness. He was not so optimistic as to harbor schoolboy hopes of finding the perfect love, but a deeply buried part of his heart wouldn’t deny how fortunate it would be if he did find a woman he wanted to share his life with.

Yes, he needed to catch this thief quickly, and despite Carver’s opinions on the matter, Aaron was convinced keeping his distance was serving no purpose.

As if sensing Aaron’s thoughts, Carver added, “I know a great deal depends on this, but let us be cautious, Your Grace. I pray you will not put yourself in unnecessary danger.”

Aaron was silent. He didn’t like Carver’s plan. If he was being completely honest, he despised it. Even taking into consideration his late father’s wishes, Aaron could not abide the thought of cowering in the castle any longer. He was the duke now, and he was taking matters into his own hands.