Page 53 of The Duke Who Loved Me (The Duke's Estates 1)

“But Effie would like a silk dress, wouldn’t you, Effie?” James asked.

The smallest Gardener, who had been fingering a silk dressing gown, dropped it guiltily.

“Effie don’t need any such thing,” said her mother.

James dug out the coat that hadn’t fit him. “Here, Ned, try this.”

The boy hesitated, not quite believing but clearly drawn. His mother made an uneasy sound. Ned couldn’t resist. He put the coat on. It was large on him, but not excessively so. “You’ll grow into it,” James told him.

“This is a good weave, this is,” Ned said, fingering the cloth. “And ever so well made. Look at that stitching.” He preened.

His mother and sisters went very still, giving James nervous sidelong looks. He was puzzled by their reaction. It was almost as if they expected an attack.

“He can’t have a coat that fine,” said Mrs. Gardener then. Her voice was tight. She frowned at Ned, seeming to convey a message.

“Of course he can.” James looked from one Gardener to another.

Ned was swiftly removing the coat. “Somebody’d steal it off me,” he said. His voice was tight with regret and something more. Fear?

“They wouldn’t dare.” James was irate at the idea.

The entire Gardener family looked back at him as if they despaired of explaining the truth of their world to someone who’d never experienced it.

“Those who belong to my household will be properly clothed,” James declared. “We will present a proper appearance, one that warns off thieves.” He met each Gardener’s eyes in turn. “Is that understood?”

Mrs. Gardener curtsied. After a moment Jen copied her. “Yes, milord,” said the woman. “I’ll get to work soon as I find some thread.”

“You might want to hire a seamstress,” murmured Cecelia.

He turned to her.

“Mrs. Gardener might well know of a suitable one,” she added.

James thought that Cecelia was looking at him as if she’d never seen him before. Which was odd because he was feeling rather the same about her.

Ten

Cecelia couldn’t resist. The next morning she slipped out while Aunt Valeria was in the garden checking her beehives and took her customary circuitous route to the Tereford town house. Finding the back door locked, she knocked, waited for a stir at the kitchen window, and knocked again.

The lock turned, and the smallest Gardener opened the door. “Mam says you can come in,” she said.

“Thank you, Effie.”

Mrs. Gardener was in the kitchen, which looked even cleaner and tidier than before. The woman wore a muslin dress that had probably come from the store of clothing in the wardrobes. It was loose on her thin frame, and Cecelia thought she looked self-conscious about its suitability for kitchen work. Cecelia saw her run reverent fingers over the fabric, however. Effie had settled on a stool in the corner and wrapped herself in the blue and scarlet silk dressing gown she admired. There was an enticing smell of baking. “His lordship is clearing out,” Mrs. Gardener said. “Next room down from where he was.”

“Thank you,” said Cecelia.

She made her way there and found James, Ned, and Jen maneuvering a large disintegrating wardrobe out the window. Bits of chewed wood flaked off as it teetered on the sill, threatening to fall to pieces in their hands. Jen started to lose her grip on the massive thing, and Cecelia hurried over to lend a hand. The four of them managed to tip it over and out. It landed with a crash on a new pile in the walled garden, next to the one from the cleared room.

“Thank you,” said James. “That one was rather nasty. We found yesterday that it had a large rat’s nest inside.”

“Made Jen scream,” said Ned. “She hates rats.” His sister shuddered. “On account of one bit her once,” Ned added.

“A rat?” Cecelia was shocked.

“Long time ago, when I was little,” Jen said.

She couldn’t be more than eight years old now.

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