Page 16 of The Duplicate Duke
Falling back again on the soft bed, she closed her eyes.“So tell me how horrible my American manners are.What do I need to remember tonight?”
“First, I’ve already taught you not to reach across anyone at the table.As a man, if we have guests, you must offer to plate any dishes nearby for the female next to you.Only take one of anything when we are entertaining.Tonight, when the soup and fish are served, I will serve the soup, and you will slice the fish.For the second course, you will slice the beef, but we will help ourselves to those side dishes already set out.”Her mother tapped her chin in thought.“Oh, and you will ask Wickton if he would like to have a brandy afterwards, then join us in the drawing room.”
“Us?”
“Well, any female guests.When it is only our family, we do not have to leave over the brandy.Wickton might not drink it after every meal.For men, it’s more of a social activity.”She sat on the bed next to Gwen.“I’ll give you more tidbits as they come to me.It’s been awhile since I’ve had to follow such etiquette.Boston society has its proprieties, but the circles in which we traveled were not so rigid.”
The strict conventions kept by the English would be an annoyance, but she would adjust.“A bath, a tour, and a decadent meal should be the end of a perfect week.”
“I will admit I haven’t had one pang of hunger since we left Boston,” her mother agreed.“I am having qualms about our plan.Though you and Graham are twins, you are still obviously male and female.Miles will see the difference between you and your brother.”
“I’ve been thinking about that too,” she admitted, fiddling with her cravat.“We need to find a way to tell him before Graham is knocking at our door.I’m feeling terribly guilty, and it’s not fair to blindside the poor man.”
“He rescued us, and in turn, we’ve deceived him.”Her mother rose from the bed and walked to the door.“We will have to find a way to tell him.”
Without him hating me.That would break her heart.
At the end of the evening, she met Harry.He was mostly a chestnut brown—liver and tan, Mr.Garner had called his coloring—with the longest ears Gwen had ever seen.His eyes sagged a bit, as if he were sad or tired, and he had jowls that occasionally dripped drool.His tail was long and his skin loose, aiding his ability to track a scent she was told.Gwen was smitten.
After dressing in her night rail, Gwen studied the signet ring with intertwining W’s that Miles had given her at dinner.He had received it from her grandfather when he had thought to become the duke, some token that represented an elite group of peers.Her neighbor, the Duke of Cranbrook, would explain more, Miles had said.She would pass the signet ring on to Graham.For now, she left it in the porcelain box that held Graham’s cufflinks since it was much too heavy and large for her finger.
When melancholy hit her, lying alone in a strange bed, she wondered if she was falling in love with a viscount who might hate her in the near future.All the talk of deception with Mama made her heart heavy with guilt.Her brother’s image danced before her closed eyelids, sending a knot to her gut.What if he didn’t want to be a duke, and she had sealed his fate?Panic ripped through her at the thought, tears pricking her eyes, and she let out a soft sob.
She missed him so.Gwen was still certain he was alive, but lately, some imperceptible worry had been niggling in her chest.Something was wrong, though she had no idea what it could be or how she could find out.
A scratch at the door stopped her in mid sob.Then a whine.She rose and walked to the door, to find Harry scratching at it.Had he heard her?She dropped to her knees and stroked his ears.He looked up at her with those droopy eyes and licked the tears off her cheek.The unspoken sympathy and comfort stirred another round of tears, and Gwen threw her arms around the hound’s neck.
When the tears subsided, Harry licked them away again, leaving a slimy mess on her cheeks and sending her into a round of giggles.“You’re a silly dog, Harry.And tonight, you are sleeping with me.Come.”
The bloodhound padded behind her, jumping upon the mattress when she invited him with a pat.“I think you’ve done this before, sir,” she said with a laugh.“Thank you, I feel somewhat cleansed.”
A rumblingwoofechoed through the room as the hound’s long tail thumped the counterpane.Drifting off to sleep, her fingers sinking in the smooth, loose skin of the dog, her last thought was,I must tell him soon.
CHAPTER8
A week later
Late June
Miles grinned up at Graham and slapped the duke’s riding boot, nestled in the stirrup.“You’re doing a fine job.Balance is key, but it’s also not something easily learned.You have a natural aptitude in the saddle.”
“I thought I would die the first few rides.My legs and back ached so.I still don’t think I’d enjoy being in the saddle for hours, as you do when accompanying us beside the carriage.”The duke wiggled in the saddle, getting comfortable.He sat on a docile bay gelding, its deep-brown hide gleaming in the afternoon sun.
“Let’s leave the paddock and take a ride into the village.The steward needs to speak with us, and we can stop by his place on the way,” suggested Miles, handing the crop to his cousin.“I think if we keep a sedate pace you will be fine.”
Shackerley had asked Miles to take charge and allow him to “be like a shadow,” learning as he went and following Miles’s lead.It was a sound plan, and it would overwhelm the young man as he saw the massive amount of details there were to running an estate.Even with a good steward.
They left the stable yard, Shackerley whistling for his new best friend, who padded along behind them.Mounted on his own black steed, Miles and the duke ambled across several fields as Miles pointed out boundaries, different crops, and a little history of the estate.
“In the early 1400s, the first Duke of Shackerley was given this land near the border to protect the Crown from Scottish rebellions and raids.Later, he supplied an army for the Lancastrians during the wars of the Roses,” Miles explained.“There is a long history of loyalty and duty to the Crown in this family.”
“We’ve inherited quite a legacy,” said Shackerley.“I only hope we continue to bring honor to the name.”
“You come from determined stock, Cousin.I believe you shall make an excellent duke.”Miles wondered at the doubt in Shackerley’s tone.Then again, he was in a new land, with new expectations and responsibilities.The steward had recognized Graham as a Beaumaris immediately, as did some of the older tenants.
The duke had a relaxed way about him, putting the villagers and tenants at ease as they discussed their needs and talking in a personable manner rather than in a condescending way.Miles doubted his cousin had a patronizing bone in his body, and he hoped the dukedom didn’t change that.
“I had no idea a duke had to care for so many people, affected so many lives.My grandfather appears to have wielded his power carefully, not using a heavy hand,” said Shackerley.“I was under the impression the late duke had been somewhat of a curmudgeon.”
