Chapter 13
The arrival of the Duke's party in Southampton caused something of a stir. That the ‘missing Duke’ was returning and had booked rooms was naturally a matter of some note and the news had spread through the district like wildfire after the message had arrived on the night packet. When the Duke disembarked, accompanied by his man, another man clearly of French origin, a very superior individual who was clearly his Butler or Major Domo, two ladies, their abigails, a very excitable French girl and a mountain of luggage there was quite a crowd assembled on the dock to watch. The superior gentleman had no difficulty commanding the attention of a small army of porters and suitable carriages to convey the party and the mountain of baggage the short distance to the Star and so the curious were not entertained for long.
Once they were settled at the Hotel Liversedge managed matters just as efficiently and the French girl commanded the respect of the Hotel staff by alternatively berating them in respect of minor defects in the standards she expected should be provided to her employer and working like a small whirlwind to make sure everything was as perfect as it could be. A letter awaited the Duke at the Hotel from Scriven, confirming once again that Sale House in London was ready to receive him, and the following day the party set out early for London having decided to stop for one night on the road. Having travelled in easy stages across France they saw no reason to change that habit merely because they were now in England. It was therefore about three o’clock on the second day that the whole party arrived at the Duke’s London residence.
Standing before the doors of Sale House, the Duke looked up at the building which, prior to leaving England, he had grown to loathe. He was surprised to feel a sense of coming home and as not one of the servants awaiting him on the steps or inside the doors was known to him, there was no feeling, as there had been in the past, of the walls closing in on him. He saw, on entering the house, that although the whole building had been opened up and cleaned, it was no longer the fashionable residence it had been during his boyhood and he made a mental note to put the work in hand to modernise and redecorate as soon as it could be arranged.
As for the ladies, Madame was impressed. Certainly, there was work to be done and it showed that the house had lacked an enthusiastic mistress for many years; but it was habitable and beautifully proportioned and clearly in a fashionable part of London. Miss Leighton had heard tell of the Duke’s London house on many occasions and to finally see it was a treat indeed. Veronique pulled out her apron and, having ascertained where the Duke and his guests were to sleep, went to inspect. She was pleasantly surprised. There was work to do, but her experienced eye could see that someone had polished the woodwork with beeswax and had taken the drapes down to remove the dust. She would have this house up to her exacting standards in a couple of days. She immediately commenced issuing instructions to the English servants to assist her and, although she trod very heavily on a number of sensitive toes, as she worked as hard as anyone and each request was accompanied by a dazzling smile, few held a grudge.
There was much to do to make the Duke comfortable. Francis repaired to the Duke’s suite to attend upon the proper unpacking of the Duke’s Clothes. Martha and Madame’s maid commenced the not inconsiderable task of dealing with the Ladies’ apparel, Guay went for a walk and Liversedge sought out the Duke. He found his employer reading some letters in his study.
“Well we are home, are we not?” said the Duke conversationally.
“As Your Grace says,” came the bland response.
The two men stared at each other for a few seconds and then the Duke realised that he would need to break the silence.
“Where will you go? He enquired.
“Your Grace will appreciate that I had always anticipated the possibility that I might need to return to England and I had made sure that my savings were properly invested.” For the first time Mr. Liversedge spoke to the Duke, if not as an equal, then no longer as a servant. I anticipate the sale price of The House in Strasbourg will also now be added to the total. By Your Grace’s standards I am not a rich man but I am nevertheless beforehand with the world and I have been considering what to do next. I cannot see myself opening another gaming house. I have done that and there are certain risks attached to it which, as one becomes older, become less attractive. I think I shall buy a hotel.”
“I think you would be very good at that,” commented the Duke. He continued, “Whatever debts there may have been between us have been paid in full measure. Your actions on the road outside Rheims and your efforts on behalf of myself and Miss Leighton were more than enough to discharge any obligation you might have had. You have nothing to fear from me.” Seeing that Liversedge had bent to pick up a portmanteau he had left by the door he added, “good luck my friend.”
“Thank you, Your Grace, it has, once again, been a pleasure to be in your service.” Liversedge bowed, and left the room. A few seconds later the front door closed behind him and the Duke watched him through the window walking, as stately as ever, along Curzon Street, until turning into Derby Street, he disappeared from view.
London was still thin of company although those stalwarts who had no love for country living were already in residence. A substantial pile of calling cards awaited the Duke upon his return together with a few quite flattering invitations. Word that the house was open and the Duke was planning to return had spread and a number of the more ambitious Mamas with eligible daughters to marry off were already avariciously eying the Duke’s wealth and influence. Sale had planned to remain in London for a few days as there were some urgent matters of business which needed his attention but, before leaving France, he had agreed with Madame Leighton that, as soon as he had concluded it he would return to Sale Park conveying the ladies to Borden at the same time.
Madame had written to Monsieur explaining the change of plan and requesting he join his wife and ‘daughter’ in the Midlands as soon as he could free himself from his estate in Saumur. It was a little further for him to travel but she knew how much her elderly spouse wanted to visit the home of his youth and she did not think he would object. When the whole family including, if his duties permitted it, the Viscount, had assembled at Borden they could then all travel to London together. The Viscount was clearly optimistic as to the possibility of his attendance as he had asked Madame to hire a suitable house for them all for the season as he did not maintain lodgings in London. On the infrequent occasions that it had been necessary for him to remain in the capital for more than a day or so, it had been his practice either to hire a small suite at a modest hotel or put up with his friend Mr. Canning.
After dinner that evening the Duke who, upon reviewing the pile of correspondence which awaited him at Sale House now considered it would take rather longer than the week he had originally estimated to complete his business, asked the Ladies whether, in view of the longer than expected delay, they wanted to return to Borden immediately. Privately he thought that they would be better off returning home rather than kicking their heels in London but this was a matter for them. Both ladies indicated however that they were more than happy to remain in London for an extended visit as they needed to replenish depleted wardrobes and, as neither lady had been in London before, they were looking forward to seeing some of the sights.
The following day the Duke, never one to incur unnecessary expense, walked the short distance to Simpson’s offices. When his clerk announced the Duke, Simpson was so startled that he breathed in at the same time as drinking a glass of wine and it was some moments before he overcome the ensuing coughing fit. He could not conceive of any circumstance which might have provoked his noble client to seek him out in his dusty and cluttered offices. It was the first time that the Duke, or indeed any of the members of the nobility whom he served, had come to his offices in all his years of practice. Completely unconscious of the shock which he had delivered to Simpson’s constitution the Duke greeted his man of business like a long-lost friend and enquired after that wor
thy’s family and well-being. Upon being reassured, he produced the letters which Simpson had sent to him and politely enquired in what way he could be of service.
Simpson saw that the manners and consideration which Sale had displayed ever since he had been breeched, had not deserted him during the years spent abroad; not one other of his other noble clients would have ever considered asking after his health. Even knowing the courtesy with which he dealt with those whom he employed, the suggestion that the Duke might be of service to him however, was such an unthinkable and novel concept that he had some difficulty forming a cogent reply. While he gathered his thoughts, he surveyed the Duke and pondered the changes he saw there. He had been one of the last of the staff to see him when he had left England, a pale, thin unhappy man not ready to take on the responsibilities which had been thrust upon him. This new Duke had put on a little weight and acquired a deep tan. He had a ready smile, a firm handshake and he had moreover, an air of assurance which he had not previously possessed. Simpson was nobody’s fool and he concluded that, whatever the Duke had been looking for on the continent, he had found it. The Sale estate, he decided, was in good hands.
The man of business warmly welcomed his visitor back to England's shores and invited him to peruse the documents he had prepared for him. He was exceedingly glad to report that over the previous three years since he had last attended the Duke at Sale Park his holdings in the funds had increased significantly. In part, this was because of the greatly improved income from the estates (such improvement continuing to increase on a yearly basis) but it was also as a result of the frugal existence the Duke had been living since the death of the Duchess. The unused income had been put to good use and either invested in the funds, which Simpson was pleased to report were producing a most pleasing income or reinvested in land. Further acreage had been added to the estate and Simpson was able to report that the Sale Estate was now one of the largest, not to mention one of the most profitable, in England. Simpson, stunned the Duke by explaining that his income had increased to such extent over the last seven years that he was now one of the richest men in England able to rival the income of the Devonshire estate. In turn, the Duke was able to gratify Simpson by telling him that he was able to add, to the already large English estate, a sizeable property in France.
Having reviewed the information, and gracefully approving the steps Simpson had taken in the Duke’s absence, the first matter of business was to review the power of attorney he had given his man of business. Having returned to England he now wished to retake the reigns of management and Simpson, satisfied that his employer was more than capable of handling them, was only too glad to hand them over.
Over the next few days the Duke met with Scriven and the bailiffs and agents of each of the individual estates who could be spared or who worked within a reasonable distance of London. Those who lived further afield were asked to attend the Duke upon his arrival at Sale Park. There was little but good news to report. The issues that were raised were minor and easily settled and the Duke was gratified at the unanimous approval from all of his employees at the news he was soon to take over the management of the estate business himself.
Finally, he met with Mr. Rigg junior. The Duke was impressed by the enthusiasm with which this gentleman applied himself to his work and was pleased to confirm that he would continue to instruct the Firm of Rigg & Rigg. There were transactions which the Duke wanted to put in hand immediately, not least that he wanted to revoke the powers of attorney he had given three years previously. Enjoying a quiet drink with an envious crony in his club later that day, Mr Rigg was moved to comment that his client was one of the easiest of gentlemen to deal with and his understanding far above the average.
Then there was the appointment of Household staff. Scriven had engaged sufficient staff to open the house and clean it but had not engaged a Butler or Housekeeper on the (correct) assumption that the Duke would want to confirm any such appointment himself. The Duke shocked his steward, who was still having difficulty adjusting to the idea that The Duke wished to be involved in matters which properly should be beneath his dignity, by informing Scriven that he would not only approve the appointments but would interview the candidates himself. Scriven did his best to persuade his master to at least allow him to be present but the Duke airily waved all his objections aside. He would not be saddled with servants who thought it their duty to protect their master from every ill wind. He thought himself a good judge of people and he had a very good idea of what he wanted. Scriven, did his best to persuade his employer to take a more realistic view of matter but his concerns were dismissed out of hand. How hard, the Duke asked, could it be to select the two people who were to be entrusted to run his house?
Some fifteen minutes before the first candidates were due to arrive he realised that, while he might have a very good idea of the person he was looking for he had not the remotest idea as to the skills required. Less than thirty seconds after this revelation, Miss Leighton who was doggedly, if without much enthusiasm, applying herself to the task of acquiring some of the skills which her maid and Madame regarded as much more suitable to a young lady desirous of entering the fashionable world than fencing, was startled into dropping her embroidery by the Duke’s precipitate entry into the drawing room.
“I need your help.” He begged.
“Good God! Whatever is the matter?” She was considerably astonished by his distracted behaviour but when the matter was ruefully explained to her it was some time before she could speak without laughing. “I am having some difficulty,” she chuckled “seeing you interviewing a housekeeper, do you even know what a housekeeper does?”
“Well of course I do!” he uttered outraged “she ....” and he suddenly realised he had no idea at all, “Er ... keeps house?” he finished lamely.
“Exactly so!” she said trenchantly, trying valiantly and failing to keep a straight face. “You do not have the slightest idea.” At this point Francis came into the room, and Miss Leighton explained the Duke’s problem.
“If I may make a suggestion Ma’am,” Francis said unsteadily. He too was trying to keep from laughing at the thought of the Duke interviewing the kind of superior individuals which Scriven would consider as suitable. “If you would be so kind as to interview for a Housekeeper I will assist the Duke in the search for a Butler.
Two hours later neither post had been filled. Four Housekeepers and four Butlers had been interviewed without success.
“A more humourless, hidebound, stiff-rumped, pompous, autocratic assemblage of persons it is impossible to imagine,” growled the Duke as the door closed behind the last butler. “There isn’t one of them I could live with.” Some ten minutes later Miss Leighton entered the room and, at the sight of the Duke’s gloomy countenance, broke into a gurgle of laughter,
“Your Steward’s notion of what is due to your consequence is somewhat different from yours,” she said once more trying to keep a straight face.” The Duke’s face relaxed into a reluctant smile. “Oh dear,” she continued, “how could he have thought that they would suit you? Those housekeepers were all very well qualified and they would run your house well, but,” she grimaced, “I don’t think any of them know how to smile. One of them said that,” Miss Leighton coughed delicately and assumed a clipped dry nasal voice, “I should of course have to dismiss all of the under-servants I must be able to choose my own staff. I find it is most unwise to retain any remnants of the old regime. They cannot adapt to the change.”
“Good God!” ejaculated the Duke, “and I thought the lot I had was bad. The worst I got was the one who explained that he was very happy at my Lord Salcombe’s establishment but a Duke’s house was much superior. Apparently, the only factor that weighed with him was my elevated station. I asked him whether he would move on again if a Royal Duke needed a butler and he looked at me with such an expression of deep pity that I gather he thought I was rather simple His rather portentous reply was, ‘of course Your Grace’.”
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There then followed a most undignified period of ten minutes, during which Miss Leighton and the Duke competed with each other to mimic the individuals which they had been interviewing. Since they became less able to control their laughter as the mimicry proceeded their efforts were not attended by any particular success. Francis, watching this behaviour, which would certainly have horrified the majority of the Duke’s acquaintance had they been privileged to see it, had long ago seen which way the wind was blowing and did not interfere merely waiting for a break in the persiflage.
“If,” said loudly enough to attract attention and pausing slightly to make sure he had it, “Your Grace would leave the matter to me I am sure that I could locate two individuals who not only possess the desired competence but would also meet with Your Grace’s approval.” It was to be seen that The Duke and Miss Leighton had forgotten Francis’ presence and the slightly guilty look on both their faces, was relieved only when he grinned broadly showing that he had taken no offence. Realising that belittling servants in front of one of their fellows was a solecism which some might find hard to forgive, he strode over to his man and held out his hand.
“I am sorry, Francis, that was uncalled for.” It was not the least of the Duke’s charm that he never gave himself unnecessary airs and the hand was grasped firmly. He was genuinely fond of the man who had been his constant companion for the last three years and knew that he owed Francis a great deal.
“Your apology is unnecessary Your Grace, he said. “My opinion of the er ... gentlemen we have just interviewed is similar to yours. They appeared to think you would be working for them!” Choosing his words carefully, he continued, “Some employers choose to treat their servants with less than courtesy but that does not, in my view, entitle their upper servants to ape them. None of those men, and I apprehend,” he nodded respectfully at Miss Leighton, “none of those ladies would have done for you.” He paused and repeated, “Would you like me to try to find someone who might suit? His Grace gave Francis to understand that the suggestion was one to which he would lend his enthusiastic support and Francis bowed himself out of the room with the intention of executing his commission.
“There are those who think holding your servants in high regard encourages them to become encroaching,” remarked the Duke thoughtfully looking at the door through which Francis had left the room, “but I rather think that there is no man alive I like better than John Francis. I wouldn’t say it to his face, he would be embarrassed and he still keeps what he considers to be an appropriate distance, but I have never had a better friend.”
“I know what you mean,” replied Miss Leighton, looking up at him. “Martha, has always been there for me, she was the mother I never had.”
On the second day after his return to London and after a lengthy time closeted with his man of business the Duke went in search of his cousin at the lodgings he still occupied in Albany. Lord Lionel had never considered it necessary to keep a house in London and his son had apparently decided to maintain this tradition. Upon knocking on the door, he was delighted to discover that Wragby, his cousin’s man, was still in Gideon’s employment.
“Wragby! How are you,” he exclaimed as the door was opened, “is Lord Gideon in”?
“Your Grace!” The smile on Wragby’s face clearly demonstrated how delighted he was to see the Duke. “May I say that it is good to see you in such good health after so long? Her ladyship will be pleased to meet you as well.”
“Her Ladyship?” The Duke had not considered the possibility his cousin may have married and was therefore somewhat startled by the disclosure. Reeling from this discovery he was about to attempt an appropriate response when an ebullient voice from the inside the lodgings boomed out,
“Is that my miserable snirp of a cousin who abandoned his family without a word? Bring him in at once!” At hearing his larger-than-life cousin’s semi-serious command, the Duke grinned at Wragby and muttered that there are some things that never changed. Wragby, who had always a liking for his master’s noble relative, permitted himself a small smile in answer and stood back to allow the Duke entry.
His Cousin, until his fall a Captain in the Life Guards, was, by any standards, a very large man. Broad of shoulder and well over six feet tall he dwarfed the much slighter Duke. Alone amongst his relatives he had never treated his cousin differently to any of his friends and had not sought to direct his life. The two men, so different, had always been fast friends and Gideon, much more robust than his smaller cousin had even been known to intervene on the Duke’s behalf with his formidable parent. The Duke was overjoyed to see that Gideon had made something of a recovery from the fall which had finished his Military career as he was standing upright albeit with the assistance of a cane. Gideon had no guile, he called the world as he saw it and his face, was at that moment, wreathed in a welcoming smile.
The room held two other occupants. In a chair in the corner sat very pretty woman, somewhat younger than Gideon. She had an extremely apprehensive expression on her face and upon her lap she was holding a baby who the Duke adjudged had not yet reached the age of one year. The Duke walked over to his cousin, with a gleam in his eye and a patently assumed apologetic expression on his face.
“Adolphus!” boomed his lordship, where the devil have you been? Three years and a couple of months without a word and all I could find out from Scriven was that you were out of the country, you had left instructions in respect of the estate, you had not said when you would return and no-one was to worry. A couple of months ago, the town was humming because that old woman Chepstow had put it all over town that you had been found, staff had been hired for Sale House and last week Scriven received a message that your return was imminent. Now you just turn up on my doorstep without no warning, doubtless demanding a glass of my best Claret, and without a word of explanation. What do you mean by it eh? Eh?” Then without warning, he enveloped his Cousin in a bear hug and said thickly, “damme, It’s good to see you.” After a few seconds’ more when he slapped the Duke so hard on the back he nearly winded his smaller cousin he continued. “Here, don’t stand on ceremony, may I present you to Lady Anne Ware and there, “he pointed at the baby, is the Honourable Albert, your heir.”
The lady rose gracefully and, obviously unsure of her reception curtseyed to the Duke.
“Your Grace,” she murmured.
“It is a pleasure, Ma’am,” responded the Duke bowing over her hand, “but my graceless cousin is right, please do not stand on ceremony. Had I known that Gideon was considering matrimony, I would have returned immediately. Anyone who could bring about the improvement I see,” he waved at Gideon, and dodged as his cousin tried to catch him with his stick, “has my unreserved approbation.”
The Duke spent the whole afternoon with his cousin who brought him up to date with the developments in his life. It transpired that Gideon had been driven out to Richmond to take the air two summers previously. Determined to try to achieve some independence and angrily dismissive of the dire warnings of his Doctors he had asked to be set on his feet so that he could try to walk. A few proud, but painful steps were followed by an ignominious fall and, unable to check himself, he rolled down a slope landing almost in the lap of a lady who was trying to catch a landscape in water colour. Ever the opportunist, Gideon had apologised profusely and explained, from his somewhat disadvantageous position, that the two people running pell-mell after him would soon restore him to a position from which he could more formally introduce himself. From that unpromising beginning romance had blossomed and six months later the couple had married.
The Duke commiserated Gideon on the Death of his father who had survived long enough to see his eldest son married. As this was, following Gideon’s accident, something he had never thought to see, Lord Lionel had at least passed out of this world a happy man. Gideon had not been as badly hit by his father’s death as he expected, he had the support of his wife and moreover it had been hard to see the large vital man so reduced by
his illness. In the end, Gideon’s assessment was that his father was happy to pass on.
In turn, the Duke gave Gideon a (much expurgated) version of his travels abroad. The gossip that was all over town was that he had arrived in England with a lady in tow and Gideon informed him, at the same time admitting to being consumed with curiosity, that there were stories which suggested he had set up a mistress and, at the other extreme, proclaiming a marriage to a French peasant.
“It is nothing of the sort of course, I was, at the request of her father, escorting Miss Leighton, her mother and three abigails, one of whom is very, very French, to England so that Miss Leighton can visit Borden in time to settle in and be back into town for the remainder of the season.”
“Leighton!” Ejaculated Gideon. “Do you mean that Viscount Borden, the chap that was as thick as thieves with m’father, has a daughter?” His eyes narrowed, “but he never married...how can he have ...?”
“It’s not Borden’s daughter.” The Duke interrupted seeing which way Gideons’ mind was going. “You knew, did you not, that the current Viscount’s father had a younger brother with whom he quarrelled on the occasion of his Mother’s obsequies?” The Duke saw that Gideon understood immediately; the story was well known, at least to those who lived close to Borden House. “It appears that the rumours were right, Rupert Leighton did settle in France; in Saumur to be exact. He married very late in life and Miss Leighton is the only child of that marriage. She is therefore Viscount Borden’s cousin. Hearing that his nephew was in Paris with the foreign secretary, the Hon. Rupert asked him if he could provide such assistance as might be necessary to introduce his daughter to the ton. The Viscount was happy to oblige but then had to remain in France for longer than he anticipated. I met him in Alsace just as I was about to return home and, learning of my intention he asked me if I would deputise for him and escort Miss Leighton and her mother back to London, and thence, at my convenience to Borden. Given the friendship between your father and the Viscount, I could hardly refuse.” The Duke shrugged. “The truth is, I was facing a long journey home, I was heartily tired of my own company and I leapt at the chance. It was not an onerous task.”
As the Duke had intended, Gideon, visiting his club that evening revealed that he had seen the missing Duke and explained the identity of the mystery Lady. As the Duke’s return was the most talked about on dit at that moment the story circulated very quickly and, if it became a little embellished in the telling it remained substantially as the Duke had told it to his cousin. The Duke had established Miss Leighton’s identity in such a way that no-one would ever think to challenge it.
To ensure any lingering doubts there might have been were put to rest the Duke ensured that Miss Leighton was seen abroad regularly in his company. The Day after his visit to Gideon the Duke took up Miss and Madame Leighton in a visit to Hyde Park. Several prominent persons rode up to the Duke’s Barouche, newly furbished up with the Sale arms repainted on the doors and harnessed to bang up pair of matched chestnuts which the Duke had purchased just the previous day. Among the well-wishers was the Hon Rupert Byng, already known by the soubriquet of “Poodle” Byng, the soubriquet having been acquired as a result of his habit of driving everywhere with an extremely high bred canine at his side. The Hon. Mr. Byng had been a member of the Prince Regent’s set along with Mr. Brummel and therefore, now that the Regency had been endeded on the death of George III, he had the ear of the King.
“Your Grace,” he said, bowing slightly, “we had of course heard of your intended return, not only on account of the feverish activity at your house, but because His Majesty mentioned it a week or so ago.”
The Duke introduced Miss Leighton to Mr. Byng who confessed that he had guessed her identity, He had, he explained, a conversation he had with Lord Ware at White’s the previous night and, after making a graceful bow to both ladies, he continued on his way. Every day thereafter the Duke spent some time in public with the two ladies and, freed of the formality and constraints enforced upon him while she travelled under his protection the Duke started to consider how to advance his own cause. Likewise, Sarah, seeing that the Duke was going out of his way to spend time in her company dropped some of the guards she had put around her heart. In this she was encouraged by Madame who had quickly learned where Sarah’s affection lay. Now that Sarah had been creditably established, to Madame’s way of thinking, there were no barriers standing in the way of such a patently advantageous match.
In the meantime, Miss Leighton felt like she was living in a social whirlwind. She was out nearly every night. If there were no invitations, then there was the theatre or the opera. She wondered how, when the season was in full swing a person could be busier than she was now; it was difficult to see how she could fit in any more entertainments. She had made the acquaintance of no less than three of the patronesses of Almacks all of whom had promised vouchers to Madame upon her planned return to London. She also found herself the object of determined and, in some cases, flattering, pursuit by quite a number of young men, not all of whom were attracted by her fortune. The season was not yet over and the betting was that Miss Leighton, the new heiress, would take the ton by storm.
There were other attractions in London beside the parties. A lady could stroll along Bond Street to visit many of the shops selling exquisite items of apparel to attract even the soberest young lady. Then of course there were the dressmakers and milliners, the delights of the Pantheon Bazaar and such places as Rundell and Bridge. Miss Leighton, reared in seclusion, found it difficult to walk away from a bargain even if she knew it was not something she wanted but she was resolute, just because she had money did not mean it had to be spent, but even so as she gazed into the shop windows at the delights on sale, there were occasions when she wished she was not quite so level headed. To make her happiness complete, the Duke encouraged her to spend some of her income upon herself and often, when his business did not require his attendance elsewhere he was more than happy to escort her and help her to do so.
“Will you marry him my dear?” Madame asked bluntly one evening as Sarah bent over her embroidery ring. She had the satisfaction of seeing Sarah blush to the roots of her hair thus confirming, should confirmation be required, her previous conclusion.
“I don’t know. I mean he hasn’t asked me Maman” stammered Sarah somewhat incoherently. “I’m sure he will not, he needs to make a good marriage.”
“And why would a marriage to you not be a ‘good’ marriage?” enquired Madame indignantly. You come from a good family, you are a lady, and you are heiress.”
“But but...” Sarah looked agonised. “He knows who I am.
“He does,” agreed Madame ruthlessly, “but if there was ever a man who wouldn’t care for that, it is the Duke of Sale. He is much more concerned with pleasing himself than worrying about what is due to his title. So, young lady, I ask you again will you marry him?”
“If he asks me,” said Miss Leighton meekly, “yes.”
On the day following the outing to Hyde Park, Francis asked to see the Duke and Miss Leighton and explained that he thought he had found a suitable couple who might suit the Duke as butler and housekeeper. He asked that his employer look beyond the first impression when deciding whether to employ them. Mystified, the Duke agreed, asked Francis to bring them in and he went in search of Miss Leighton. He had a personal motive for ensuring that Sarah liked whoever it was he appointed. As soon as they came in the Duke could see what Francis had meant, this couple were down on their luck. It flashed through his mind that Francis thought the Duke might appoint them purely on the basis that he felt sorry for them. The thought was swiftly dismissed. Francis would never have put them forward for the Duke’s consideration, however indigent their situation, if he did not think they were worthy of consideration.
So it proved, the story was sad but not uncommon. After twenty years’ loyal service they been turned off when their master had died. As the estate had been saddled with debts it had be
en sold and the deceased had no relatives so they were unable to produce a reference. They had exhausted their meagre savings and had sold almost everything they owned. Nonetheless, both Saddler and his wife had a quiet dignity the Duke respected, and they did not either give themselves airs or irritate him by being over obsequious. Moreover, Mrs Saddler explained that they were a couple and, poor or not, they would not be parted. If the Duke did not appoint them both then he appointed neither. When she answered the questions put to her by Miss Leighton confidently the Duke knew that he need look no further. The couple were engaged there and then and invited to take up their posts the following day.
“How on earth do you know what a housekeeper has to do?” asked the Duke who still had difficulty with the breadth of Miss Leighton’s knowledge.
“Most girls learn it from their mothers,” replied Sarah with disarming honesty. “I learned a little from our housekeeper at Borden although she never really accepted me.” She grimaced, “she was my Grandfather’s housekeeper and held his views I think. Since she retired, I have run the house. There was not much to do, we had almost no visitors and there is such a small staff but there was still a great deal I had to learn. Most of it comes from your own housekeeper, Mrs Bridgehouse. I spent many hours running tame in your house.”
“The Saddlers will run Sale House,” The Duke commented, “I shall need to appoint staff for Sale Park. I hope you will be available to help me there too.”
Miss Leighton glanced involuntarily at Sale and what she saw there, nearly took her breath away. ‘Maybe Madame was right’, she thought, seeing the intense look in his eyes. ‘Perhaps he might offer for me.’
Nothing more was said over the next few days, although the warm look was there in the Duke’s eyes every time he spoke to her. He did not declare himself but he neither did he give the lie to the course her thoughts were taking. He consulted her on anything relating to any of his houses, and she was cast into exquisite confusion when Mrs Saddler informed her that his Grace had given orders that any question relating to the smooth running of the household was to be directed to her. When he proposed redecorating Sale House, he accepted any comments she made without question. He gave instructions to his newly appointed groom that if Miss Leighton was to command his services then he was to render her every assistance including taking her wherever she wanted to go.
Faced with the prospect of her impossible childhood dream coming true Sarah, discovered that as much as she loved the Duke, the prospect of becoming Duchess of Sale was quite terrifying. She would be mistress of, at the present count, no less than five great houses in England as Scriven had, upon learning of his employer’s return taken steps to recover possession of the most important of the Duke’s properties. If the Duke decided to recover all the properties currently rented out to tenants then he had a total of eleven houses. Then there was an unknown number of houses in France which doubtless would need to be decorated and the Duke would need to decide which of them to make his principal seat in that country. She knew that, when she was a little girl running up and down the back stairs at Sale Park, there were over sixty people employed in that house alone and that was without taking into account the numerous gamekeepers, bailiffs, gardeners and grooms employed outdoors. For the first time, she really understood why the Duke might have needed to get away. One morning she voiced her fears to Martha as her maid was arranging her hair. Martha was distinctly unimpressed.
“If, Miss, and I say again, if,” Martha said severely, “you were fortunate enough to receive an offer from his Grace, then I hope you would not refuse him for such a nonsensical reason as that. Do you love him?” Miss Leighton hastily reassured Martha on the point. “Then, I see no reason for being so missish. You are a sensible girl. His Grace would give you all the support you needed and in any case,” Martha smiled grimly, “how many servants do you suppose would have the temerity to challenge the Duchess of Sale.”
Two days before he was due to escort Miss and Madame Leighton to Borden he invited the younger lady to take a turn in the park with him. Followed at a discreet distance by Madame and Francis the couple were permitted some private conversation.
“Miss Leighton” opened the Duke in unusually formal tones. “I have, some time ago written to both Monsieur Leighton and Viscount Borden and I am hoping that a response will await me at Sale Park. May I, therefore, express the hope that you will be able to receive me at Borden House if I were to call.”
“I am sure,” replied Miss Leighton, her heart hammering in her chest “that you will find us at home, that is. I do hope you will come and see me….us.” At this point Miss Leighton lapsed into a confused silence and, most uncharacteristically managed only monosyllabic answers until they returned to the Duke’s Barouche.
The following day, The Duke had some last-minute business to transact at Simpson’s office before he started out on the last part of the Journey. Not ten minutes after he had left Sale House to visit his man of business Saddler, resplendent in brand new attire, announced Lord Gideon Ware. Miss Leighton was engaged with Madame in writing some letters and they both looked up as the tall man limped into the Drawing room leaning heavily on his stick and obviously trying to ignore the pain.
“Lord Ware,” exclaimed Madame rising to meet their visitor, “I am Madame Leighton and this,” she indicated Miss Leighton who had also risen to acknowledge their visitor, “is my daughter Sarah. I understand his Grace may have mentioned us?”
Gideon attempted a bow and apologised for his lack of manners,
“It’s this dashed injury you know,” he nodded down at his cane. “I can get about - but, he smiled ruefully, "people go to sleep waiting for me”.
“Please do be seated.” Madame begged. After Saddler had assisted his Lordship to lower himself, not without some difficulty, into a chair, it was a while before Gideon could continue the conversation. The pain he suffered was written on his face. When she was sure he was ready to continue the conversation Madame informed him regretfully, “you have just missed your cousin. He was going to visit his man of business and he said he may then go on to his club. My daughter and I do not expect to see him until tomorrow.”
“I had hoped to see him but I will doubtless do so when he returns to town or, if not, at Sale at the end of the summer.” He smiled broadly,” but I came to pay my respects to you as well.” Madame smiled at politely at him and waited. “Oh, all right,” admitted Gideon frankly, “I was consumed with curiosity. I wanted to meet Sale’s new neighbours.”
“And we wanted to see you,” Miss Leighton responded. “And for myself I wanted to meet the giant of a man of whom Sale speaks so fondly. He told me there were times when he was younger that you were the only person who neither expected anything from him nor tried to protect him from every ill wind. I see,” Sarah commented conversationally “that, at least in his physical description of you he spoke truly. I think,” she added, “that you are quite the tallest man I have ever seen. When you are as small as I, you become used to looking up at people but I suspect a lengthy acquaintance with you would inevitably result in neck ache.”
Lord Ware chuckled and informed the ladies that while he was in the Life Guards he was half a head taller than his fellows. Abruptly switching back to his desire to satisfy his avowed curiosity, Gideon asked Madame about her home in Saumur. As Miss Leighton was extremely well acquainted with all matters French and had taken the trouble to learn as much as she could about her assumed parents and their estate she had no difficulty contributing, but as the conversation lagged Sarah decided to change its direction.
“How did your Lordship find the Duke after three years? Is he much changed?
“Out of all recognition!” Lord Ware replied. “He is now the man I always knew he could have become if my father and all his devoted retainers would but leave him alone for a while.” He lapsed into silence for a second and then continued, “there is something else there too. He seems peaceful. After Harriet died ...” he trailed of
f and sighed. “I was very worried.” His expression brightened “but now, here he is, full of energy, determined to take control of matters and whatever demons were chasing him, well… he must have left them behind. I must confess it is somewhat hard to take in. He was never one for society parties and yet he is now talking about renovating Sale House for next season.” He looked around and muttered, “good thing too, the place is like a mausoleum. It hasn’t changed since my grandfather’s time. I suppose,” he continued reflectively, “he may be contemplating marriage again. He has a duty to set up his own nursery. I don’t want the title.” He laughed, “Lord! If it gets out that Sale is looking for a wife, the season will be very entertaining. It will drive the matchmaking mamas wild with anticipation. I’ll tell you what though, Ma’am,” he confided, “most of them will simply not do. Sale can look as high as he likes for bride, any sniff of a scandal, any lack of breeding and it don’t matter what they do, he won’t be interested. M’father made sure he knew what was due to the name.”