Page 16 of Her Wily Duke

Emme threw back her head and laughed, and they walked on, enjoying the beauty of the autumn day.

It was Lady Caroline who ultimately broke the silence again.

“You rather fancy my brother, don't you?”

“The Duke?” Emme replied with knitted eyebrows.

“No, silly. Adam.”

Emme stroked her chin thoughtfully.

“He is without argument a clever, kind and extraordinarily handsome man.” Lady Caroline smiled. “But I refuse to consider any situation I deem impossible. In this case, he is the son of a Duke — and a member of the aristocracy. I am a commoner, a mere teacher of music.” A look of resignation settled on Emme's face. “Anything more than the relationship of the son of a Duke, as part of her employer’s family, to his sister's tutor is out of the question. That's the end of it.”

“Perhaps,” said Lady Caroline. “But I know that he fancies you.”

“What are you talking about?”

Emme spoke in the tone of a parent admonishing a small child.

“I may only be a child in your eyes, but even a girl of thirteen recognises the certain way a man looks at a woman he admires. Adam is painfully shy with women, but I see the unmistakable way that he looks at you. Lately, he always makes it a point to drop by whenever I am having a lesson, even though Frederick is frequently there. And when Adam is there,” she paused meaningfully, “he’s not looking at me!” Blushing, Emme started to say something, but she was interrupted. “When you’re not around, it's even worse! He speaks often of the angelic quality of your voice. And he doesn’t just mean your singing. And he always wants to be reminded of when my next lesson is to take place.”

Emme considered what Lady Caroline had just said.

Did Lord Whitewell really care for her in a romantic way?

She had earlier presented the problem of the Duke’s unwanted attentions to Lord Whitewell as her father had suggested, but his response still haunted her.

“Just leave Frederick to me,” he had said. But just what did that mean?

Emme was left staring off into the distance, lost in thought. Did she think there was a chance that Lord Whitewell would fall in love with her. They had hardly spoken. Perhaps her father was right to say that her imagination could create a possibility there. But her fancy would never turn to the Duke. Then something captured her attention, drawing her awareness back to the road, and the land around them - the birds had stopped twittering, and there was nothing but silence. She and Lady Caroline stood motionless, each holding their breath.

Emme laid a hand on Lady Caroline’s arm. The silence around them had now been broken by the sound of hooves in the distance. Someone was rapidly riding towards them on the long dirt road which led away from them towards Trenton.

Straining her eyes, Emme could barely make out the shape of a figure in front of her, silhouetted against the glare of the bright late afternoon sun. But it was approaching rapidly, and as it drew nearer she could see it more plainly - a man on horseback, wearing a long black cloak, a black hat and what looked to be a mask, and riding a coal-black horse.

A thrill ran through Emme as she stood there, transfixed, and motionless. She shivered. Whoever this was, he was no ordinary man. His all-black attire suggested some dubious profession — perhaps he was a highwayman who robbed wealthy estate owners on their way to and from their estates. But that didn’t explain the air of authority and charisma which exuded from him, a feeling of power which seemed to grow with every hoof beat.

“Who is that man?” asked Lady Caroline, but Emme laid a deft finger over her mouth.

The masked stranger was getting nearer. For a moment Emme imagined that he might run directly over them, or take out a cuirass and cut them down where they stood. Yet still she felt no fear. Inexplicably, she continued to stand there, lost in silent rapture. Lady Caroline, too, stood waiting with wide eyes.

Neither girl said a word as the horse thundered past them, the wind tore through their hair, and the dust settled on their skirts, walking boots, and cloaks. Emme had to close her eyes to prevent herself from being blinded by the dust, but in the seconds before she did so, she saw, or thought she saw, a strange sight - the rider in black, tipping his flat black hat to her as a gentleman would to a Lady.

*****

That night Wiggins and Walham were travelling in the sturdiest carriage that Foxridge Park possessed - it was old, and not all that fast, but its durability was what mattered to them. They had made it to the bank in Trenton just before closing and were now on their way back to Foxridge Park. As one of the very few banks in this area, it was well respected, and did very good business with all of the nobility and gentry who did not want to travel any further for their banking needs. As the longest serving and most trusted servant at Foxridge Park, Wiggins had come to be in charge of carrying out most financial transactions, since the late Duke’s death, for the current Duke most certainly did not wish to leave his estate, or do his own errands. Wiggins alone was responsible for transporting money to pay into the bank or, more commonly, for withdrawing funds from the bank, and delivering the cash back to Foxridge Park, or sometimes to a more distant Lord’s estate – in payment of gambling debts, as far as Wiggins could tell.

Now that he was back at Foxridge Park, Walham had insisted on accompanying him. He had made his point persuasively.

“These roads aren’t safe for a person to travel when he’s alone and has business to attend to,” Walham had reasoned. “To travel unprotected while transporting money is to invite risk and ruin. I would not see you harmed.”

Wiggins had not been able to deny the logic of it, so he had agreed, quite gratefully, to having Walham’s company for this scheduled trip.

Despite the fact that Frederick and Adam were still barely on speaking terms — Adam had once again been driven out of the study the day before at the first mention of Thomas Coke, an agricultural methods pioneer — their two servants had been fast friends for several years. As tensions between the two brothers grew ever more heated, they sought a natural refuge in each other.

“If this goes on for much longer,” said Wiggins, “I fear it will come to blows between the two men.”

“They’re both notoriously stubborn,” said Walham. “An altercation is more likely than that one of them should give in and submit to the will of the other.”