The Duke Dilemma (2 page)

“Just so,” Edward commented, still wondering about his son. Would he really continue to pursue this course?

“You and I should attend the opera tomorrow night and Almack’s the evening after. What do you say, Father?”

“I suppose you want me to accompany you on morning calls and ride through the Park at the fashionable hour to have a look at prospective young ladies and evaluate your rivals?”

“Rivals?” Frederick chuckled. “That’s doing it a bit too brown. Although I do believe riding through Hyde Park is an excellent idea, except I haven’t a horse. Galahad remains at Faraday Hall.”

“We could send for him. It would only take a few days at best.” Edward considered for a moment, then changed his mind regarding the horse his son usually rode when at their country house. “On the other hand, you won’t need a hunter in Town. What you need is a saddle horse. Perhaps we should be on the lookout for a pair for a new curricle or phaeton. I don’t see why you shouldn’t have one. Seems appropriate, don’t you think?”

“The idea had not occurred to me, sir. I shall give it further thought, if you please.”

The spark in Frederick’s eyes at the mention of a new vehicle, one of his own, could not have been missed. Had the Duke been mistaken or did his son seem more excited about the prospect of purchasing horseflesh than finding a bride?

“As your father, and your predecessor, it seems that I should support your undertaking to marry. If you decide to set up your household, you will need the necessities: transportation, a house, an income, and the responsibilities befitting your rank.” It still remained to be seen if the Earl of Brent was truly prepared for
what lay ahead. “I’ll plan to attend Almack’s with you, and if we have any hopes of riding through Hyde Park this week, we’ll need to visit Tattersall’s today. Let us be off, then! To be honest, I’d agree to almost any day while the arguments for the Corn Laws continue in Parliament.” Edward pushed back from his desk and stood.

“Excellent! I thank you for your cooperation, sir. You have been a most obliging parent.” Frederick smiled and made a shallow, respectful bow from his waist. “I can think of no one better qualified to choose a future duchess than you.”

A dull, gray afternoon greeted Edward and his son at Tattersall’s at the corner of Hyde Park. Any warmth of the afternoon must have owed itself to the accumulation of equines and the gathering of sellers and potential buyers in the confined, semisheltered area.

“Have you any idea of what you might fancy?” Edward strolled under the covered walkway with his son, glancing at the guests examining the horseflesh lining the aisle.

“I haven’t given it any thought.” Frederick reseated his hat upon his head. “I am of a mind to have an easygoing steed. Won’t do to fight my horse when I wish to keep focus on the ladies passing by.”

“There’s a nice-looking gray over there.” The Duke pointed off to their left.

Frederick grunted in acknowledgment and without much interest. “An ordinary brown would do me as well. Don’t need anything flashy, just a smooth goer—I wouldn’t fancy having my teeth rattled out of my head.”

Edward could scarcely believe his ears. His son wasn’t interested in an exceptional-looking horse.

“Some height would do me, don’t care to have my heels dragging in their dirt as I ride, you know.” Frederick paused to look across the courtyard toward the auction area.

“That’s completely understandable.” Edward noted his son would need a horse that stood well over sixteen hands.

“It is a pleasure to see you, Your Grace.” An immaculately dressed gentleman, from his splendidly tied cravat to the quickly disappearing shine on his top boots from tramping through the marketplace, inclined his head in greeting. His black hair set off his piercing blue eyes to perfection.

“Ah, Viscount Fieldstone,” the Duke returned, glancing to his son, imparting an informal introduction. “May I introduce my son, the Earl of Brent.”

“How do you do, Lord Brent?” A firm nod accompanied his greeting.

“Lord Fieldstone came to Faraday Hall some years ago when Augusta entertained some suitors after the Season’s end. He was a most agreeable guest and…left early. I believe our party suffered from his absence.” The Duke’s jest did not appear to amuse Fieldstone in the least, for not even a polite smile graced his lips.

“You and my sister did not rub along well, I take it?” Frederick spoke to the Viscount but it was clear something off to his left had drawn his attention.

“Let us say our parting was amicable.” With a nod of his head, Lord Fieldstone indicated the horse to his right. “I see Mr. Curry’s bay has caught your attention, my lord.”

“He seems a steady enough fellow.” Frederick pivoted to admire the horse. “He stands calmly while being inspected by complete strangers.”

“Ah, but looks can be deceiving. I have it on good authority that he is not stalwart or serene as he appears but shies at the merest turn of a leaf on a tree.”

“Oh, do be serious, my lord.” Frederick chuckled at the absurdity.

“Once he is in motion, there is no calming him until he has well exhausted himself. Do not mistake his temporary docility for sound temperament. That gelding is not for an inattentive rider.”

“You don’t say?” Frederick’s opinion remained unchanged, by the sound of his reply.

“If you will permit me to illustrate.” Lord Fieldstone brought his gloved fist to his lips and cleared his throat as if readying himself to perform a magic illusion before them. He slipped his right hand into his jacket and drew out a neatly folded white handkerchief.

Not certain whether his attention should remain focused on Viscount Fieldstone’s performance or elsewhere, Edward exchanged glances with Frederick, who appeared to be wondering the exact same.

Lord Fieldstone took one corner of the handkerchief and in a quick motion waved it upward. A soundless display of bright white quickly rose into the air. Across from them, the groom handling Mr. Curry’s bay cried out, “Easy there. Take it easy!” when the horse sidestepped and reared, tossing his head in alarm at Fieldstone’s disturbance.

The bay soon backed from his groom, white-eyed, snorting, and pulled free from his handler. He had, by the third stride of his gallop, passed the Duke’s small group to the open courtyard. The groom, several stable hands, and Mr. Curry followed in the horse’s wake.

“Goodness!” Frederick remarked, turning to watch the outcome of the stampede. “I must admit I am indebted to you.
I could have been the sad owner of a horse who had ceremoniously unseated his rider before a vast audience during the high hour in Hyde Park.”

“Is that what you’re in search of? A hack to ride in the Park?” Fieldstone glanced from Frederick to the Duke.

“That was our intent.” Edward wondered where the Viscount’s questions were leading. “Do you have a suggestion? Know of a horse that might be of interest to the Earl?”

“I’ve just purchased a new saddle horse myself. Champion is getting on in years and very…comfortable, almost predictable.”

“Do you mean your chestnut?” Edward recalled seeing the tall, well-built gelding the previous Season.

“That’s the one. He’s quite sound, I merely crave the energy of a new challenge.” A pensive silence came over Fieldstone, allowing the clamor in the courtyard to remind them of the ongoing pursuit of Curry’s bay. “I had not thought of parting with him.”

“A reliable horse is exactly what I’m looking for,” Frederick admitted.

“He’s stabled at my townhouse if you care to have a look. Perhaps you’d like to ride him? I’ll gladly put him at your disposal.” Lord Fieldstone’s offer sounded generous, if not most opportune.

“That sounds splendid! How can I refuse?” Frederick turned to Edward. “What do you think, Your Grace?”

“You are free to do as you see fit.” Edward preferred his son make his own decision.

“Shall we leave right away?” Excited at this new prospect, Frederick seemed more than anxious to quit Tattersall’s, even after Mr. Curry’s bay had been cornered, captured, and the decorum of the marketplace restored.

“If that suits you. And we’ll stop at White’s for supper, if you’d like,” said Fieldstone.

“A meal at the club sounds splendid, Fieldstone.” Frederick truly seemed delighted with this outcome.

“I fear I must leave you two to fend for yourselves.” Edward thought that allowing the gentlemen to work out the arrangements between them might prove best. “I dine with the Rutherfords tonight.”

“I hope you find the Viscount and his wife well. Please send them my regards,” Frederick said with due respect.

“I shall.” Edward still had a difficult time accepting the change in his son. First his decision to take a wife, then a purchase of a sensible saddle horse, and now respectful salutations to the Duke’s friends. What would come next?

“Let’s be off, shall we, Lord Brent?” Fieldstone motioned for them to depart. After their farewells, they crossed the courtyard to leave.

“Hold up for a moment, Fieldstone.” Frederick held up his hand, halting them before going completely out of sight. “What do you think of that smart-looking phaeton over there?”

Edward glanced at the faded yellow vehicle and did not think much of it.

“Does your son fancy my rig, Your Grace?” Sir Nicholas Petersham appeared before him, catching Edward unaware.

Gracious!
Sir Nicholas’s ongoing unsavory behavior had always given the Duke a distinct dislike for the man. It was unfortunate they had neighboring country estates in Essex. He had never met anyone who had more love of sport, wagering, and gambling. When the man had made a nuisance of himself, Edward had the Baronet escorted off his estate and barred from joining in the current festivities.

“Would that not be de-lightful if Lord Brent wished to purchase my gaming phaeton?” The Baronet seemed to come alive at his own words.

Edward watched his son and Lord Fieldstone disappear from Tattersall’s. Frederick might do as he wished regarding Champion, but by no means would the Duke ever condone the purchase of the Baronet’s curricle.

Nowadays Edward rather cherished the quiet and solitude during his evenings, but the pleasant sound of female chatter at the Rutherford dining room table was a reminder of what his life had been only five or so years before. His eldest and youngest daughters, Augusta and Muriel, were at constant odds with each other. Their aunt Penny played mediator, and his good-natured middle daughter, Charlotte, could not side with either sister lest she offend the other. To his ears the quartet’s melodious disagreements were an expression of the domestic harmony that provided the musical accompaniment in the background of life at Faraday Hall.

“Ladies, I beg of you!” Lord Rutherford called out to his female relatives. “If you will do His Grace the honor of ceasing your incessant tittle-tattle and trespassing upon his nerves, I am certain he will thank you very much.”

“It is your nerves, Papa, not the Duke’s, which protest against our conversation,” Mrs. Jeffries replied in a sympathetic and understanding manner.

“Why is it Grandpapa always complains when we have things we wish to discuss?” the young Miss Jeffries inquired of her mother and grandmother.

“Because, my dear gel,” Rutherford replied, in that tone of ultimate tolerance Edward knew so well, “it consists less of substance and more of giggling nonsense. How, I ask you, can you discuss any topic with silly-sounding rubbish?”

Lady Rutherford stifled her laughter then shushed her daughter and granddaughter. “Very well, my lord, we shall remove to the small parlor and leave you gentlemen to your leisure.” She raised her imperious hand, motioning to the footman behind her, who stepped forward to draw back her chair upon her rising. Two other footmen followed, one behind each of the ladies.

Edward placed his napkin on the table and stood when the three females rose to leave.

The Viscountess smiled at the Duke, and she nodded her head, acknowledging his gesture. Mrs. Jeffries and Miss Jeffries followed their elder relative’s example, bestowing upon him smiles with slight inclines of their heads, displaying a remarkable restoration of decorum. The audible soft rustle of their skirts at their exit was a sound Edward had not heard in a very long time, and the memory caused him to smile.