The Duke's Seduction of Lady M Page 15

  Brody wasn’t mentioned and Mary decided that yet again she was doomed to disappointment.

  Get a grip. How can he tell the staff if it is to be secret? Argh, my brain is addled. Of course he could not. Somehow he would get a message to her in another way. If only she knew how.

  It wasn’t long before Mary found out.

  Three mornings later, after two days of mundane chores such as helping Mrs Niven turn out the linen closet, and trying to do justice to the outside of her house in a line drawing, Mary was ready to think Brody had changed his mind. She’d checked on the chickens for Mrs Niven, lifted a dozen brown eggs with the bloom of freshly laid goodness on them, and noted the stream was in no danger of flooding the coop. That had been a slight exaggeration, to ward off Miss Grey, even though both she and the Nivens had resolved to keep a careful eye on the water level. Evidently it was prone to flooding.

  Once or twice a century.

  Mary carefully settled the eggs in the straw-lined basket she carried and backed out of the chicken coop with one eye on Esmeralda, the matriarch of the flock, and the other on Arthur, the venerable and irascible rooster. Nether were noted for their placid temper.

  ‘Don’t you dare Arthur, you are a menace.’ She glared at the rooster who ignored her, fluffed up his comb and strutted nearer. ‘If you weren’t such virile Casanova I’d have you for dinner.’ He and Esmeralda were the most contrary creatures ever. They often made a late bid for freedom, even though they’d had a chance to go and peck around earlier, along with the rest of their flock. This pair, however, preferred to try and upend her and run between her legs.

  She kept her eyes on the poultry as she shut the gate behind her, turned, jumped and almost dropped the basket. Brody leant against the fence, grinning at her machinations.

  ‘Good lord you startled me.’ Her heart beat an erratic thrum and she wondered if her suddenly jelly-like legs would collapse under her. ‘How long have you been there?’

  Brody took the basket from her and tucked her arm through his. ‘Long enough to hear you cussing someone called Arthur who is good at…’ he winked, ‘…impregnation. Do I have a rival for your affections?’

  ‘Not if you intend to procreate. And Arthur is a cockerel. His harem is scattered around the garden at the moment.’

  At that moment one of the said followers of Arthur chose to dart out from under a bush and peck at Brody’s boot clad foot. Brody jerked in surprise, the hen squawked in annoyance and disappeared into a shed. He laughed and looked at the slime of grass that marred the once pristine shine. ‘Does that means she disapproves?’

  ‘Probably thought you were food. I must admit they’re not very bright.’ Mary chuckled at Brody’s disgusted expression.

  ‘Not at all if they think a hessian will provide sustenance.’ Brody looked down at his boot and sighed, before he rubbed the toes on a clump of grass. ‘That is a perfect sheen ruined. Just as well I no longer have a valet like Myers, the man who scolded me to high heaven and back before I went… went where I went.’ He broke off and Mary chose not to push him. If he wanted to say where he spent such a long time then he would. Otherwise, as interested as she was, it was not her business.

  They walked a few yards towards the house and Mary decided there was no point in dissembling any longer. If she did she might go mad.

  ‘Brody, I have to ask. Are we any further forward?’ Was she too forward? ‘Do you mind that I ask?’

  He swung the egg basket and Mary bit back a shout of warning. She wanted her eggs fried, poached and in the fruitcake Mrs Niven had promised to make. Not scrambled or as an omelette with shell as the filling.

  ‘I have news,’ he replied. ‘News I hope you’ll like. Firstly, we are to have a harvest dance in the village, to which you and your household will be cordially invited. My factor will be issuing the invitations and details shortly. You will come?’

  She nodded. ‘It will be a pleasure. I haven’t danced since before my husband died. I’ll enjoy the interaction with the villagers.’

  ‘Excellent, I hope you’ll save me a dance. It will be good simple fun, nothing too onerous. Now, secondly, and in my mind more importantly, my dear Miss Mary, would you like to come for a ride with me? I have an old retainer to visit over towards Bliss, and I thought lunch at The Crown would be perfect. Mrs Carter, the landlord’s wife is cousin to Lovey – Mrs Loveage – and according to Lovey, Mrs Carter’s pies are almost as good as her own. Afterwards we could, if you are agreeable, detour to Blissland and check everything there. The Ferrers, the couple that are caretaker and cook, are away at one of my other estates this week. On loan, so to speak. I want us to look around, and decide what is needed. You need not worry about the Ferrers when we visit in the future. They live in a cottage nearby, and the house will be arranged so we tend to ourselves as much as possible. I make a good lady’s maid.’ He winked. ‘Buttons and bows are easily dealt with.’

  ‘Won’t they know who you are and what you intend to use it for?’ Mary asked in an enquiring tone. ‘Aren’t servants always the first people to know anything?’ Even as she spoke, Mary wanted to refute her statement. She managed to keep a lot of her own details private.

  ‘Very likely,’ Brody agreed. ‘And they do know who I am, that’s been made quietly obvious. Hence their visit north. However, to put no finer point on it, I pay their wages. Handsome wages to ensure they keep their own counsel. Be assured that they can and will become nicely blind when needed. Crude as it is, money talks.’ He stopped walking and nudged her knees to turn her towards him. ‘What do you say? I would like your opinion on what we…’ he stressed the word, ‘…need to furnish it to our satisfaction.’

  Mary made her mind up. Not that the decision had been difficult.

  ‘Do I have time to change?’

  ****

  Brody looked up at the sun and did a rapid calculation. To him that was as easy as pulling out his fob watch. ‘Thirty minutes?’ he suggested.

  ‘Twenty will suffice. Can you take the eggs in to Mrs Niven? I’ll join you there.’ Brody nodded. He knew enough about women to accept twenty was highly unlikely, and meanwhile he could do some careful information spreading. He made his way to the kitchen door and stepped inside the warm food-scented room.

  Not many moments later, he leaned against the kitchen dresser and munched a slab of sticky gingerbread, as Mrs Niven rolled out pastry. The enticing aromas of beef and carrots emanated from a steaming pot on the stovetop and he sniffed appreciatively.

  ‘Meat pie?’

  ‘With kidney,’ Mrs Niven confirmed. ‘Miss Mary’s partial to it, so I’ll be serving this tonight. And a syllabub and some stewed fruit from the garden. Oh and my curd tart. Simple fare she likes, which suits me fine. You can’t beat good straightforward English cooking I reckon, none of this foreign muck.’

  Brody, who had eaten nothing but so-called foreign muck for several years, nodded gravely. ‘She’s lucky to have you.’

  ‘Ah well, and us her I reckon. Where did you say you were off to?’

  He hadn’t, but he appreciated the way she posed the question. Brody was relived he’d thought to organise a reason for their ride that could be easily checked, and was unremarkable in the extreme.

  ‘Off to see old Jolyon Trotter over Bliss way and then I thought lunch in The Crown and a stroll by the river. Miss Mary remarked she’d not been out in that direction so I thought this the perfect chance to show her around,’ Brody replied easily. ‘There’s not a cloud in the sky, the weather looks set to stay fair, and we might as well enjoy it before the autumn frost sets in. Plus I must get to see Jolyon soon, he’s been a bit under the weather according to Mrs Loveage, who got it from his daughter. He’s got an eye for a pretty woman so to be visited by Miss Mary will make his week.’ He hoped that was a good enough amount of information to satisfy Mrs Niven.

  She smiled at him and rubbed her nose with a floury finger, which left her looking like a clown. ‘There now, that’s excellent. Poor
girl hasn’t had it all that easy I don’t think. A trip out with you will do her the power of good. And to see Mr Trotter? That’s a kind idea; it’ll perk him up no end. Allow him to feel part of the community and let my lady know who’s who.’

  Brody opened his mouth to prod a little more when someone coughed behind him. Mrs Loveage beamed.

  ‘Ah Miss, there you are.’

  Brody turned to see Mary standing in the doorway, a frown on her face.

  ‘Mary, my dear you look charming.’

  She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Thank you, Your Grace. I’m ready.’ She looked at Mrs Niven, who blushed.

  ‘I’ll be out for lunch, Mrs Niven.’

  ‘His Grace was just telling me what you were up to,’ Mrs Niven said defensively. ‘Nice to go and be seen…’ she trailed off as Mary stared at her. ‘Ah well, you have a good day. Enjoy the sun whilst it lasts.’ She turned back to rolling her pastry out. ‘Beef and kidney for dinner and then syllabub and curd tart to follow.’

  ‘Lovely.’ Mary said. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’ She turned to Brody. ‘Your Grace?’

  Brody took her arm, conscious of her rigid body. He suspected she held her temper in check with difficulty and if he weren’t careful, he’d be on the end of a tongue-lashing.

  He turned to the housekeeper, who after all had only been looking after her employer’s best interests, and bowed. ‘Mrs Niven your gingerbread is truly superb. Mrs Loveage swears there is no one for miles around who comes even near to you in that department.’

  ‘There now, how nice,’ Mrs Niven beamed and beside him Mary’s stance softened somewhat. ‘Just like Mrs Loveage is famed for her pastry and jams. I’m glad it staved off your pangs of hunger.’

  ‘Pangs of hunger?’ Mary said under her breath as they left the kitchen and walked towards the stables. ‘It’s not yet eleven in the morning, and I’d wager you broke your fast most heartily.’

  ‘It was hours ago’ Brody said plaintively. ‘Plus, it would have been impolite to refuse her offering.’

  ‘Just like it would have been rude to refuse to satisfy her curiosity with regards to our outing today?’ Mary asked him acerbically. ‘I do not appreciate my every move being monitored.’

  Brody swung her round to face him, and backed her to the wall of the house. Tiny stones crunched underfoot, and sounded loud, magnified in the somnolence of the morning. His temper, which had lain dormant for so long, was aroused, and he held onto it with difficulty. How dare she accuse him of… of…

  Of what?

  ‘You, my dear, are lucky to have such loyal staff that they worry about you.’ He ground the words out as he placed his hands on the wall either side of her shoulders. The rough stonework stabbed tiny splinters into his palms and heightened his senses. His rakish past rushed forward and prodded him. His predatory senses assailed him and encouraged him and he leaned in for the kill… The kiss, the stroke, the fondle… Brody lifted one hand from the wall, and touched her neck.

  He heard her gasp as her lips parted. Soft, rosy and inviting. She swayed towards him, her breast brushed his chest. The perception that the hairs on his arms and neck could and were standing on end was something he’d forgotten was possible to happen. Brody wallowed in the sensation for a few seconds and wished with all his heart there were not several layers of clothing between their skins. His fingers itched to open the buttons of her riding habit, and feast on her breasts. Almost without volition, Brody bent his head.

  A sharp pain hit the hand still pressed to the wall and pulled him out of his sexual haze. His vision cleared and he looked down into Mary’s eyes. Bright, inquisitive and without a hint of fear. Brody forced himself to move back and took hold of her shoulders to keep her a pace away from him.

  She scowled. ‘Why?’

  ‘Sadly, now is not the time or the place to do what I would have done without this timely reminder of our circumstances.’ He held his hand up to show her the tiny pinprick of blood that gathered there. ‘Which, before you ask, is to ravish you. Long and thoroughly. Skin to skin, with no interruptions.’ He pressed his body against her so she was under no illusions how he felt.

  Her eyes widened and Brody laughed grimly. ‘Never ever think for one moment I do not want you. Hell, I ache for you. My body is begging for me to lift your skirts and plunge my staff into you. If you’re game here and now, tell me so. I am not known to back away from a challenge.’

  Mary sucked in a quick breath. ‘That is crude.’

  He bowed, mockingly. ‘That is as maybe, but it is also true.’

  ‘Perhaps, but even so. Listen well, Your Grace. You are trying to take over. I am not prepared to be a cypher to bow to your every whim.’

  How on earth did she come to that conclusion? Brody opened his mouth to refute it, and closed it again. There was enough truth in her remark to make him consider his next words.

  ‘I, along with your staff, have positive feelings about you. Yes, I agree I might be too forceful, but it’s because I do want you, and in some strong way wish to take care of you. Call it nature’s will.’

  ‘Nature?’ Mary shook her head. ‘I see it more as a male high-handed way.’

  ‘I suppose I might come across as a little bit forceful.’ Brody said reluctantly. To have to answer for his actions and reactions didn’t sit well.

  Her eyes widened once more. ‘Might?’

  ‘Don’t push your luck,’ Brody advised her. ‘It seems my manly aspirations of protection are once more to the fore. As for your staff? It is obvious they want to make sure you are safe and well. Such concern is worth its weight in diamonds. Get used to it.’ His grip on her shoulders tightened. ‘Spoiled seemed a word to come to mind. Spoiled and uncaring.’

  Mary blinked and tugged on his arm. He didn’t move an inch.

  She drew herself up tall and glared. ‘Why not add self-centred and childish? Unhand me. I’ve changed my mind. I wish to return to the house. You gossiped about me without even a thought as to whether I would mind. And you, Your Grace, are hurting me.’

  ‘Not as much as you have just hurt me, my dear.’ Brody was convinced he was fighting for much more than her to accompany him and perhaps assess what could happen between them. ‘I was protecting your honour and your reputation.’ He let go, took her two or three steps away and then turned on his heel to glare at her, arms akimbo. ‘To a woman who asked in such a way that I could have refused to answer, if I chose. She is a housekeeper, I a Duke. Do you not think how apprehensive she would have been, addressing me so? How much courage that took?’ He bit his lip and concentrated on that pain, rather than the pain she had inflicted on him. Also, he reckoned if he focused inwards he might not take those few steps needed to reach her and shake her hard. Or kiss her senseless. ‘Do you?’ he asked once more, this time in a voice that didn’t shake with temper. ‘Or do you truly not care? I cannot believe that of you.’

  ‘I…’ Mary paled and he watched her temper deflate as fast as it had risen. ‘…Oh lord. What have I done?’

  ‘Hurt me, but words can only be cutting and fester if you let them.’ Brody smiled, tightly, and wished he could relax. Her words had been like an arrow to his heart. Fanciful but true. ‘Just I beg of you, do not let Mrs Niven know how you dislike her care.’

  ‘I don’t, I won’t…’ Mary stuttered. She sounder appalled. ‘I do, oh grief. I’m truly sorry. I never knew I had a temper, until now. I suppose I’ve been careful not to be the focus of people’s attention.’ She put her hands to her red cheeks. ‘I really am a cat.’

  ‘You’re no cat, just scared I imagine. There is no need. You might have thought attention was not on you but I assure you, the boot is on the other foot. But in a good way. You’re liked and respected. Everyone in the village is interested in Miss Mary and the way she helps at school. You are a mystery to a lot of them, and once we get into the long nights of winter? Why a mystery is something to be mulled over, picked at and solved. I’m of the opinion that you should giv
e a little and the rest hopefully will go unnoticed, or at least not commented upon.’

  ‘Hmm. I accept it is all new to me. I cannot fathom why I should be so interesting to other people.’ She did indeed sound bewildered. ‘I just keep myself to myself.’

  ‘That’s why.’

  He waved in the direction of the stables, put his hand in the small of her back and encouraged her to walk towards the buildings. After an infinitesimal hesitation she moved in the direction he had angled her.

  ‘You are a mystery. People love mysteries, it gives them something to chew over. Don’t I know it. My life has been examined in infinitesimal detail since I returned to these parts. And no matter what you do, for every three people who comment there will twenty reasons why. Hence,’ Brody continued, ‘in order to alleviate some of that, I have my curricle. All open and above board, and which will cause as little comment as possible.’

  ‘However, not none at all.’

  Brody looked at her curiously. Something bothered her more than she was prepared to divulge. ‘Sadly, anything either of us do would not go totally unremarked upon. All we can do is give people enough to mull over and then hopefully lose interest.’

  Would she accept that? In essence, it was the truth, although Brody knew enough about himself to accept he wanted his interest and his protection to be known in the area. Now she’d shrugged off her mourning, she would be fair game for any rake, rogue, roué or even presentable gentleman who heard of her.

  The only man to be admitted to her inner circle will be me.

  With a nonchalance he didn’t feel, he quirked one eyebrow at her. ‘Truce? I’ll try to limit my ducal high handedness, and you try to accept it is all done with your best interests at heart. Ah…’ he looked at her once more stony face. Lord she can change on the spin of a coin. ‘…what I perceive as our best interests and you can correct me where necessary.’