CHAPTER ONE
Pendrake Hall
Devonshire, England
July 1816
“OH, DEAR. ITis massive,” Harriet Comeford muttered to herself while staring at the stately manor in the distance that served as the Duke of Pendrake’s country home. The sun beat down on her as she approached the grand house with growing trepidation.
Had she made a terrible mistake in coming here?
It seemed as though a house party was about to take place, for several elegant carriages had passed her as she walked along the expansive drive toward the house on this warm summer’s day. The carriages now filled the courtyard, and liveried footmen were scurrying back and forth to unload trunks and carry them inside. An older gentleman who appeared to be the head butler rushed out to escort the recent arrivals into the house.
Harriet stood off to the side, hesitating to step forward since no one seemed to have a moment to attend to her.
She clutched her brother’s letter of introduction in one hand and a pouch carrying her worldly belongings in the other. The pouch was not all that heavy since she had little other than a few gowns to her name.
“Oh, dear,” she muttered again, wondering whether her brother had truly been a good friend to the Duke of Pendrake. “George, I hope you were not exaggerating or I am done for.”
But he had claimed they were.
She hoped it was not a complete fabrication.
With her brother now gone, Harriet had nowhere else to go. Nor did she have the means to travel back to Yorkshire where she had been raised or the convent school in Gloucester where she had been teaching until a few months ago.
Three gowns and this letter of introduction comprised the sum of her worldly possessions.
The carriages that had arrived just ahead of her were now driven off to the carriage house which was situated beside the stable.
This left her standing alone in front of the duke’s imposing home.
“Miss, you seem lost,” a gentleman said, startling her out of her thoughts as he emerged from the stable and approached her.
Harriet knew she must have looked quite out of her element, but managed a friendly smile as he reached her side in a few long strides. “Good morning, sir. Not lost. Just…a bit uncertain.”
He was a big man, standing a full head taller than herself, and powerfully built.
“Uncertain?” He had dark hair and smoky gray eyes that could make a girl’s heart flutter. His attire was casual, a work shirt that stretched across his chest and muscled shoulders, and dark trousers that molded to his long legs. His boots were scuffed, but otherwise finely made.
All in all, he appeared too elegant to be one of the stable grooms. “How may I help you?”
She let out a breath and smiled again. “I am Harriet Comeford. My brother was George Comeford, a good friend of His Grace, or so my brother claimed.”
The man frowned. “Was?”
She nodded. “George died a month ago.”
She was surprised by the compassion she noted in the man’s eyes. “I am so very sorry,” he said with unmistakable sincerity. “Miss Comeford, come into the house and we shall get you properly squared away.”
“Oh.” She held back when he took her lightly by the elbow and started to lead her in through the front door. “Sir, perhaps I ought to go in from the kitchen. You see, I am not a guest. His Grace does not expect me or even know who I am.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You are George’s sister. I can assure you, the duke will be quite pleased to meet you.”
“Truly?” She released a breath and smiled at the man yet again. “That eases my mind greatly. You seem to have known my brother, as well. Did you fight in the war alongside him?”
“Yes, I was there with your brother.”
“Then I thank you sincerely for your service to the Crown and for keeping all of us safe here in England.”
