Jenny grinned and nodded. “We shall be ready, Your Grace.”
She left the duke and returned inside. “I’ve found York, Miss Harrismith,” William said, pointing to the map. He already looked happier.
“Oh, well done, Lord William.”
“Can you tell us another story about your sister’s animals?” he asked. They loved her tales featuring Beth’s odd assortment of stray animals. But she remained uneasy about what was occurring back home in Yorkshire, and aware of how quick children were to sense a mood, sought to delay it.
“I shall, but now it is time for your baths, Nanny will be waiting.”
*
Andrew left MissHarrismith, whom he’d found to be perfectly sensible, and unlikely to exaggerate her account of the shooting, as Greta had suggested. He descended the stairs. Ivo was more intrepid than he gave him credit for if he’d climbed Spender’s Bluff. It was not impossible to scale if one knew the right way to go about it. Evidently, Ivo had discovered the route, but somehow climbing steep hills didn’t fit with his idea of the rather indolent man.
“Tell Clovis I wish to see him first thing in the morning,” he instructed the footman. He must dress for a dinner which would be regrettably lacking in feminine company. A game of faro or billiards with Raymond and Ivo might serve to banish the worries from his mind for a few hours. First Winslow, and now this business with William, which was not easily explained. Andrew’s plans for a comfortable retirement from his diplomatic duties had suffered a bad beginning. Hopefully, there would be nothing more.
Clovis came tosee Andrew in the library the next morning while he sought through the fishing gear that had just been brought to him.
“Have you been culling pheasant, Clovis?”
Clovis shook his head with a puzzled frown. “No, Your Grace. Needs to be done, I grant you.”
“Someone discharged a gun near the river. Close to the bridle path. A shot came perilously close to my son.”
Clovis’ eyes widened. “Good lord! Who would do such a reckless thing?”
“That’s what we must find out. And as soon as possible.”
As Miss Harrismith had seen Ivo returning from Spender’s Bluff, Andrew delayed questioning him, in the hope that the culprit would be found. He had no wish to ruffle Greta’s plumage, which was becoming increasingly easy to do. Ivo had been an arrogant bore last night, annoying Raymond as well as Andrew, boasting about his prowess with women. Andrew must question him when he’d really love to throw Greta’s bad-mannered brother out on his arse.
“Let me know if you hear of anything, Clovis. And check the gun room. I want to know if any guns have been taken out and fired.”
“It will be done, Your Grace.” Clovis scratched his head. “Odd business. Can’t make head nor tail of it.”
When the door closed behind Clovis, Andrew stared out the window taking scant notice of the gardeners clipping the yews. He considered the only other possible person to take a gun out would be Raymond. His cousin felt very much at home here. It was entirely possible he could have taken it upon himself to go on a hunt without requesting permission. Andrew remembered several similar experiences when they were lads. He had envied Raymond’s devil may care attitude, back then. But their differences became more marked after Andrew inherited the dukedom and subsequently married.
Raymond’s father, Andrew’s Cousin Charles, was a reckless man. He died in an accident while racing his curricle when Raymond was a baby. While Andrew’s father had been an upright, resolute man, who did not forgive the frailties of a young son. A respected speaker in the House of Lords, Andrew had a grudging admiration for him, but at the same time, was determined never to be like him. He suspected the choices his father made, ignoring Andrew’s mother, who then became a society leader at Almack’s along with Lady Jersey and had little room in her life for either her husband or her son, caused his father to be lonely. Andrew had wondered if he’d ever regretted anything. He’d certainly never spoken of it, nor approached Andrew to bring them closer.
Raymond’s mother, his Aunt Augusta, expressed concern to Andrew about the manner in which Raymond lived in London. He didn’t find anything unusual about it. Raymond lived like many sons who did not have the responsibility of an estate. With little to do, and readily available funds, they spent their time whoring and gambling. Andrew sighed and went to find him. His cousin was next in line after William, but perhaps it was fortunate that Raymond would not inherit the dukedom.
He went to join the governess and his children for a morning’s fly-fishing. Cook was to pack a luncheon hamper which would be taken to the river in the trap.
Miss Harrismith, in her green habit, waited with the children at the stables. They rode out on horseback in the autumn sunshine. Barbara rode with Andrew and the other two followed behind along the woodland path. It was three miles to the best fishing spot for trout. When they arrived, George was already there setting out the picnic luncheon on the grass in the shade of an oak tree.
Andrew handed a rod to William and took up his own as Barbara and Miss Harrismith wandered over the meadow, picking the last of the wildflowers before the onset of winter.
“Where will we stand, William?” Andrew smiled at his son’s enthusiasm and the precise manner in which he chose the fly and attached it to his line.
“Over there, the water flows better, Father. More chance of getting a bite.”
“Quite so.” He sensed William was eager to show his finesse at the sport.
They found a level spot to stand on the bank. William raised his rod into the air taking it back over his shoulder. He cast it into the water. The fly landed an impressive fifteen feet from the bank.
“That was very well done, William. The gamekeeper has taught you well,” Andrew said as he cast his own line into the water.
A soft breeze toyed with the willow fronds and birds chirped around them. As the tension drained from Andrew’s muscles, he realized how strained he’d been.
Barbara’s laughter made him turn. A rabbit hopped away and disappeared into a hole. Miss Harrismith was grinning. Her eyes found his for a fleeting moment and she raised her hands to her chest as if to say, Isn’t this perfect?
