Page 103 of The Duke Who Loved Me (The Duke's Estates 1)

Generally he wanted that, James acknowledged. Mostly. Except for the important, interesting bits, suggested a sneaking inner voice. He wanted to decide those. And he’d rather thought that she would consult him more often. James struck a lamppost with his cane as he walked along the pavement.

A picture filled James’s brain—Cecelia soliciting his opinion, praising his ideas, begging for his approval. Part of him found it disturbingly attractive.

No, that was not what he’d expected! He’d meant them to… He didn’t know what. The man who’d requested her skills and the man who was married to her today were not in agreement. And so it was easier to hit things.

He turned a corner and walked toward Tereford House. They had an appointment to meet a representative from an auction house about the mass of items there. He’d snapped at Cecelia when she said she could receive him on her own. She hadn’t sorted a single pile so far! Was his work to be dismissed?

He found her in the kitchen with the Gardener family, including Ned who’d come along to see his family and a stranger. Their vociferous welcome salved his feelings a bit. He was also glad to see that they all looked much less anxious and better fed. “This is my brother, Will Ferris, milord,” said Mrs. Gardener.

The thin man with a wooden left leg below the knee gave him a half bow. “Milord,” he said. “I thank you for the chance to work.”

“Trooper, were you?” James asked him.

“Ninety-Fifth Foot, sir. Until Salamanca.” He gestured at the artificial leg.

“A rifleman!”

He stood straighter. “Yessir.”

Knowing the man had been a member of a crack regiment, chosen for special training, made James glad he’d moved him in. He nodded acknowledgment and vowed to make Will Ferris’s employment more formal in the near future. He noticed Cecelia’s inquiring look. Here was something she knew nothing about.

“Ned’s been telling us about his valeting,” said Mrs. Gardener.

“He looks so grand,” declared little Effie.

“Puffed up like a croaky bullfrog,” said their sister Jen.

“You’re just jealous.” Ned fingered the lapel of his new coat.

Cecelia took a step nearer the center of the group. “We have been thinking of introducing Ned to a tailor who wants an apprentice.”

Was this the royal we? James was unaware of these thoughts. Well, they had mentioned such a plan, but that was long ago. Days ago?

“I have talked to Ned about it…”

“You have?” James interrupted.

“Yes, and he is quite interested. We would pay the fees, of course.”

Shouldn’t he have been consulted about this? “Ned wishes to leave my service?”

Cecelia looked at the lad. When he said nothing, she replied, “He thought tailoring would give him…scope for his ideas.”

James turned to Ned. “I gave you no scope?”

With an anxious frown, Ned said, “Yes, milord. I mean, no. You did. But you need a regular trained valet, which I know I ain…am not.”

It was true. James had been wondering how to break it to the lad that he couldn’t keep on. But that didn’t mean he should be left out of this entire process. “I thought we were rubbing along well enough.” His voice sounded sulky to his own ears.

Ned winced. “You said—about the shine on your boots. And the shirt.”

A moment’s impatience was not important. Everyone knew that. Then James noticed that the entire Gardener family looked worried. Even the former rifleman. He’d forgotten their lingering fears of retribution. Cecelia was frowning at him, too, probably adding to his faults on the list she kept. “Splendid,” James said, taking care to speak heartily. “Apprentice tailor it is then. I’m sure you’ll be all the rage in a few years, Ned. Probably refuse to make my coats because you’re so fashionable.”

“I would never do that!” Ned declared. “I’ll make ’em for free.”

“No, no, you must charge all the market will bear,” replied James. “That is what cements your reputation as a top-of-the-trees tailor.”

The sound of the front door knocker came down the hallway. “I’ll go, milord,” said Will Ferris.

---