To Capture a Duke's Heart (17 page)

But having unfastened only the top three buttons, Gabriel rose suddenly from the chair and crossed the short distance to the bed, reaching to extinguish the lamp as he sat down upon the edge of the mattress, plunging the room into total darkness.  Then, much to her surprise he laid down upon the bed still clothed in his shirt and trousers, not even bothering to push back the covers as he stretched out atop the patterned quilt; and for one inexplicable moment Penny wasn’t certain if she was relieved or disappointed.

They lay there in silence for a time, side by side, neither of them moving, until finally Gabriel sighed and said tonelessly, “Go to sleep, Madame.  We have a long day ahead of us on the morrow.”  And then turning onto his side, he presented her with his back.

Even if Penny hadn’t been focused upon the passing scenery, the pungent, intermingled scent of smoke, smoldering cinders, horse manure and untreated sewage wafting from the banks of the Thames would have alerted her to their arrival at the outskirts of London, for the stench was unmistakable.  And though she’d been to London only once before, years earlier when her father had taken her and Maryanne to visit the Great Exhibition in Hyde Park’s famed Crystal Palace, the smell was not something one could easily forget, the distinctive odor growing ever more pungent as they progressed farther into the city.

Gazing raptly out the window, Penny’s wide-eyed gaze leapt eagerly from sight to sight as their coach maneuvered through the congested streets, many of which she recognized from her previous visit, especially as they drew closer to the city’s fashionable West End.  She noted the palaces of Whitehall and St. James, Westminster Abbey, the Houses of Parliament, the Treasury building, the famed White’s gentlemen’s club and the host of exclusive shops scattered along Bond Street as they entered into the residential area of Mayfair.  And then, as their coach made the turn onto Park Lane a short while later, the sprawling expanse of Hyde Park was before her, as was the row of large, stately homes that fronted it, their distinguished inhabitants some of London’s most prominent and affluent residents. 

It was midway down that very lane that Houghton residence sat, and Penny couldn’t help but eye her family’s London home somewhat wistfully as they passed by.  But then, much to her surprise and subsequent delight, their coach slowed to a stop before an impressive, four-story, red brick mansion just three doors down. How wonderfully fortunate, she thought, for though she would no longer share the same home with her beloved father and brother, it thrilled her to know that would be but a short walk away.

It was no surprise to Gabriel that the coach wheels had scarcely rolled to a stop before the front door of Ashcroft House swung open and a liveried footman hastened down the wide front steps, for his topnotch staff was exceedingly well-trained and always at the ready. Thus, it was only a few seconds later that the steps were lowered and the coach door pulled open. 

“Your Grace,” the young footman greeted, executing a sweeping bow as Gabriel stepped down from the vehicle. 

“Hello, Timothy,” he replied amiably.  The grandson of his longtime housekeeper, Mrs. Croft, Gabriel had known the strapping young lad since he’d been a mere boy in short pants, though he’d only just recently joined his employ as an underfootman.  As such, he hadn’t quite mastered the art of impassivity, his eyes going wide and his jaw dropping slightly as Penelope rose from her seat and appeared in the open door.

To the boy’s credit, however, he appeared to recall himself a moment later, his youthful countenance once again reflecting the deliberate inexpressiveness of his older and more experienced counterparts as Gabriel assisted Penelope from the coach and then turned to escort her up the front walk.

Unlike young Timothy, however, his characteristically unflappable butler gave not the slightest indication of surprise as he maintained his position at the door, looking on dispassionately as Penelope accompanied Gabriel up the walk and approached the front steps, offering only a courteous bow and a polite, “Welcome home, Your Grace,” as they crossed the threshold and entered the front hall.

“Hello, Thompkins.”

“I trust you had a pleasant journey?” he inquired, as he motioned to a nearby footman with a nearly indiscernible movement of his fingertips. 

“The drive itself was uneventful,” Gabriel replied as he handed his hat to the young man who stepped forward to take it.  “However, the same cannot be said about my brief stay in Scotland,” he continued, forcing a smile to his lips as he cast an indicative glance to the woman standing at his side.  “Penelope,” he said then, placing his hand lightly upon the small of her back, “allow me to introduce you to Mr. Thompkins.  Thompkins, this is my wife, Lady Penelope, the new Duchess of Ainsworth.” 

Gabriel had to hand it to him, for his imperturbable butler didn’t so much as blink an eye as he made the surprising introduction.

“Your Grace,” Thompkins greeted, offering Penelope a polite bow.  “It is an honor to make your acquaintance.”

“Thank you, Mr. Thompkins.  It is a pleasure to make yours as well.”

“Thompkins can arrange your introduction to the remaining household staff once you’re settled,” Gabriel advised.  “Tomorrow morning, perhaps.”

“Yes, that would be fine,” she replied with an agreeable smile. 

“I’m afraid that your arrival has caught us unprepared, Your Grace,” the regal-looking butler said to Penelope in an apologetic tone, “but I shall have Mrs. Croft, the housekeeper, prepare your rooms at once.”

“That would be most appreciated, Mr. Thompkins.  Thank you.”

Thompkins nodded and then turned back to Gabriel inquiringly.  “Shall I inform the kitchen staff that you will be dining at home this evening, Your Grace?”

“You may.”

It was then that Michael and Rafael dashed up the front steps and entered the hall.  “Hello, Thompkins,” they called out in turn as they removed their hats, handing them over to the footman as he came forward once again.

“My lords, welcome back.”

“Thank you, Thompkins.  It’s good to be home,” Michael replied cheerily.

“Indeed it is,” Rafael agreed, emitting an audible sigh of relief, “for I was beginning to fear that we might never leave behind the bumps and jounces of those miserable country roads or escape the wretched confines of the coach.”

As the men spoke with Thompkins and arrangements were made for refreshments to be served in the front parlor, Penny took a moment to survey her surroundings. The two-story entrance hall was quite grand with its polished marble floor, elaborately-carved moldings, enormous crystal chandelier and host of extraordinary art pieces displayed tastefully throughout; and all of it flanked by two matching, staircases adorned with wide, mahogany bannisters that rose majestically to the floor above where they were then joined together by an elaborate, wrought iron balcony that overlooked the floor below.  It was an impressive sight and one that undoubtedly set the tone for the entire house.  A house that she was now mistress of, she realized, as she continued to gaze upon her surroundings.  

As the new Duchess of Ainsworth, she understood that she had not only assumed the duke’s title, but the responsibility of managing his household as well.  And while it was a somewhat daunting proposition, the responsibility was one that she was more than qualified to undertake; for not surprisingly her stepmother had exhibited little interest in domestic pursuits and over the years had delegated nearly all of the household administration to her.  Thus, Penny was highly proficient at managing a large staff, as well as all the variety of duties required to keep a large residence running smoothly and efficiently.

“Shall we?”

Penny promptly turned her attention to the duke as he motioned toward the wide set of double-doors leading into the parlor.  Tipping her head, she preceded him into the room, glancing about the elegantly furnished space as she moved to sit upon a lovely, mahogany-backed settee upholstered in a luxurious gold-patterned, brocade fabric. 

Following them into the room, Rafael and Michael settled themselves upon the two matching arm chairs set directly across from the settee, while Gabriel took the seat beside her.

Extending his long legs out in front of him, Rafael relaxed back into the chair and emitted a low, contented sigh.  Michael immediately followed suit, stretching his own legs out in front of him, crossing them casually at the ankles.  “Blimey that was a deuced long way to travel,” he uttered wearily as he leaned his head against the chair’s tufted back.

“Now that we’re finally free from the confines of the accursed coach, I believe that I shall take a lengthy walk through the park to stretch my legs,” Rafael stated.  “Once I’ve had my tea, and biscuits, that is.”

“If you don’t mind the company, I believe that my aching muscles and I will join you,” Michael said.

“You’re more than welcome to come along, of course,” Rafael responded good-naturedly.  “But if we should happen to encounter a lovely lass out for a leisurely evening stroll I shall expect you to make yourself scarce.”

Michael grinned.  “And if we should happen upon a
pair
of lovely lasses?”

His brother grinned back.  “Then I shall consider myself doubly fortunate.”

“And I will be expected to make myself scarce just the same?”

“Precisely,” Rafael replied with a wink.

After so many hours spent on the road her own muscles could do for a good, thorough stretching, Penny mused as she listened to the brothers’ playful banter, though she doubted that Michael or Rafael would appreciate it if she were to request to accompany them on their walk.  Mayhap she would take a stroll behind the house and explore the rear gardens instead.  Or, if her rooms were soon readied, perhaps a warm bath could be arranged.  As the evening meal wouldn’t be served for several more hours, she should have ample time to bathe and refresh herself before dinner, she reasoned.

As it turned out, Penny’s rooms were readied in no time at all, leaving Gabriel, Rafael and Michael to finish off the remaining tea cakes, muffins and sandwiches the kitchen had sent along with their tea, as she excused herself to follow the plump, rosy-cheeked housekeeper, Mrs. Croft, from the parlor and up the stairs to the second floor.

“Here we are, Your Grace,” Mrs. Croft said as they entered into Penny’s newly-appointed bedchamber.

They had just toured what was to be Penny’s private sitting room next door, a bright, airy room with tastefully-appointed furnishings and numerous windows overlooking the rear gardens; and now, entering into the bedchamber, she could see that it was equally lovely. It was large and spacious, with striped, silk-covered walls in pleasing shades of pale yellow and cream and like the sitting room, a large bank of tall, multi-paned windows occupied the rear wall.  In contrast to the room’s considerable size, the furnishings were dainty and feminine and included a mahogany wardrobe and matching chest of drawers, a delicate antique writing desk, vanity table, and a comfortable-looking velvet-covered chaise.  In addition, a beautiful four-poster bed sat atop the plush, cream-colored carpeting, with a luxurious silk coverlet spread atop the mattress and richly embroidered bed curtains cascading from its canopy.   It was a delightful room and one that would more than suit her needs. 

“It’s lovely,” she proclaimed, continuing to cast her eyes about the space as Mrs. Croft moved to the far side of the room.   Her traveling case and the larger trunk containing the bulk of her clothing were nowhere to be seen, but as her own silver-backed comb and brush set was laid out upon the vanity table, she could only assume that the garments she had brought with her from Scotland had already been unpacked and put away.

“You’ve a small, private balcony through here with a splendid view of the rear gardens,” the housekeeper said as she pushed aside a heavy velvet curtain, hooking the fabric behind an ornate, bronze wall fixture to reveal a set of narrow French doors.  “The duke’s mother used to sit out there for hours on end with her oils and watercolors when she occupied this room.”

“She was an artist?”

“My yes,” Mrs. Croft replied, “and a talented one at that.  In fact, that’s one of Her Grace’s paintings there,” she informed her, pointing to a lovely, gilt-framed watercolor depicting a large vase filled with pink and yellow roses, hanging on the wall beside the bed.

Penny immediately walked over to the painting to get a better look.  Though the subject matter was relatively simple, it was beautifully rendered and with a remarkable attention to detail.  The duchess was clearly skilled.  “It’s splendid,” she professed, turning back to Mrs. Croft inquiringly.  “Are there others displayed within the residence?”

“Oh, goodness yes.  There are at least a dozen or more of Her Grace’s paintings scattered about, though I dare say I couldn’t recall the precise location of each and every one off the top of my head.”

“There’s no need,” Penny assured her, “for I shall look forward to discovering them on my own as I familiarize myself with the house.”  She moved to the door on her left then and pushed it open, discovering a small dressing room and bathing chamber on the other side.  “Mrs. Croft, where does that door lead?” she asked curiously, eyeing a second, identical doorway on the opposite wall.

“That door leads directly into His Grace’s chamber,” the housekeeper informed her matter-of-factly.  “The dressing room connects the two master suites.”

“Oh.  Yes of course,” Penny replied, hoping she didn’t appear as woefully naïve as she felt as she pulled the door to the dressing room closed.

For the next several minutes she and Mrs. Croft chatted pleasantly as the delightfully accommodating housekeeper gave her a general overview of the workings of the household, including the basic layout of the residence, a brief accounting of the staff, set mealtimes and numerous other tidbits of information, all of which Mrs. Croft assured her could be further detailed at Penny’s convenience.

Their conversation was soon interrupted, however, when a soft tapping sounded at the door a short time later. “That must be Meg,” Mrs. Croft stated as she hurried over to answer the knock.