AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As soon as they were safely away from the women, the duke spoke. “You aren’t usually distracted by our guests, son.”
“She wasn’t distracting so much as disquieting,” Simon answered, forcing himself to match his father’s posture and gait. He’d tried to imitate the duke’s walk and the way he held his broad shoulders since childhood. Even now that they were of the same height, Simon couldn’t match the duke’s purposeful stride.
“Really? In what way?” the duke asked. “She seems an ordinary enough sort of young lady.”
Black hair, brown eyes, and fair skin might sound ordinary, Simon supposed. But there was more to Miss Frost than that. Her heart-shaped face and slim build were enough for most men to declare her pretty. Simon admitted such with ease, though not out loud to his father.But there was something more than that. A fire in her eyes that set her apart.
“She is quite forthright,” Simon said at last, unable to think of a better way to describe the effect she’d had on him. “And I have the feeling she is not easily impressed.”
At this, the duke chuckled, and Simon could’ve sworn his father muttered, “The lady’s most worth impressing never are.” The duke quickly changed subjects, however. “Your sister and Sir Andrew arrive in a few hours, returning with your grandmother. Emma comes with her ambassador the day after next. Do you think you can manage the amusement of our more youthful guests until then?”
“Of course, Father.”
“Excellent.” They were going to the library, and the duke’s personal office. Simon didn’t ask why, and his patience was rewarded the moment they stepped inside. Two members of the duke’s guard waited within, standing at attention.
Captain Rockwell had served under the duke for decades, beginning his place as a guard to the duchess. The younger man standing beside him, Sterling, was the most likely candidate to one day take Rockwell’s place. Sterling had spent the majority of his time on duty watching after the now-wed Lady Josephine. Now he acted as second in command.
“Rockwell, Sterling. What have you to report on our new arrivals?”
The duke didn’t mean the baron’s family—but the servants. The baron’s servants had arrived earlier that morning as was typical;, generally, servants from other households poured into the castle ahead of their employers. Most of them would never know or guess that the duke employed a number of trained soldiers whose purpose was to protect the family and castle from all threats, within and without.
In Simon’s lifetime, they’d only needed that kind of protection a handful of times. In the last year, with the political unrest that had led to a violent and deadly massacre in Manchester three months before, the duke had grown more serious about the guards’ place in his home.
“Nothing stands out as unusual at this point, Your Grace,” Rockwell announced. “Though it’s early days yet. Most of the servants will keep to themselves until they’re more comfortable in the common areas.”
“And you, Sterling? What have you to report?” the duke asked.
Rockwell commanded all the guards, but Sterling possessed a natural charm that made it easier for him to form new friendships with other servants. “I agree with the captain, Your Grace. There are no signs of trouble as of yet.”
“Thank you. I’m most concerned about the male servants,” the duke added, “and their political leanings. If anyone has connection to the Lancashire movement, I want them watched carefully.” In the days since the St. Peter’s Field incident, more than one man had sworn that the politicians of England would have vengeance visited upon them.
It didn’t matter that the duke was one of the few who championed the people’s needs. He was still a duke, and a strong symbol of noble rule over the people. Political agitators had attacked the duke’s carriage, with the duchess inside, during the summer.
The duke dismissed the guards after asking a few more questions and ensuring they had what they needed for the coming weeks to see to their duties. That left Simon and the duke alone in the office.
“Simon. Keep your eyes and ears open too, son,” the duke said as he relaxed into the chair behind his desk. “I cannot shake the feeling that we have not seen the last of violence. Our people are desperate, in many respects.”
“Yes, Father.” Simon let the weight of the duke’s trust settle on his shoulders. All his life, he’d trained to one day take the reins from his father. The duke’s family, lands, estates, and political responsibility would all fall to Simon, though he hoped it would be decades yet before he took his father’s title. “But we can hope for a quiet Christmas.”
“With Josephine and Emma back under the castle roof?” the duke asked, one eyebrow cocked upward. “Unlikely.”
Simon chuckled and took a seat across from his father. “You have missed them.”
“I have.” The duke steepled his fingers together before him. “Do you think our Irish guests will feel at home during the celebrations? It has been a decade or more since I spent a Christmas in Ireland. I confess, I cannot remember much of the traditions I experienced there.”
“I am certain they will enjoy our English hospitality, Father.” Simon tapped the arm of the chair as he spoke. “I can ask Lord Dunmore what we might do to help his mother and sisters enjoy their time here. Perhaps incorporating some of their traditions with our own.”
“A good idea. I am pleased with how well your friendship has progressed with Dunmore. He is an intelligent man, but not too solemn to enjoy a conversation.”
“Andrew will like him,” Simon added with a grin. “Dunmore has a keen sense of humor, so I feel the two of them will get on well.”
At his father’s request, Simon had made a point of searching out and befriending the baron in order to extend this invitation to Castle Clairvoir. Simon knew what was at stake, politically, and he knew what his father expected of him. He’d agreed to keep Lord Dunmore and the elder of his two sisters amused, at least until Josephine arrived to take charge.
He’d genuinely come to like Lord Dunmore. The man had a good head on his shoulders, didn’t show a temper, and had a sense of humor that made him easy to be around. Simon hadn’t imagined the sister might be the same. His own sisters and he were nothing alike in temperaments.
Simon rose to take his leave. “If you have need of me, Father, I will be in the saloon.”
“Simon?” his father called as Simon’s hand touched the door handle.
