Page 41 of It's All About the Duke
MISSHONORATRUTH’SWORDS OFWISDOMANDWARNINGABOUTRAKES, SCOUNDRELS, ROGUES, ANDLIBERTINES
It seemed as if every carriage in London was on the same street as Rath’s. His driver was inching the horses and landau along with the usual occasional jolts, bumps, and sudden stops. The many shouts from frustrated people up and down the long stream of conveyances did little to speed up the process.
Rath had forgotten there would be an end of winter carnival in Hyde Park later in the day. Everyone must have left their houses at the same time in the hope of getting to the park early enough to stake out a prime place to enjoy the afternoon and evening with family and friends. Not that Rath was minding the slower pace today. The longer-than-normal ride from his solicitor’s office to St. James gave him more time to study the papers in his hand before arriving at Miss Fast’s house.
Shuffling through the loose pages, Rath’s eyes keptcapturing the same information time and time again. Mr. William Buckland was a highly intelligent and well-learned man. Noted for being a clergyman, a fossil hunter, and a geologist. He’d recently been elected a fellow into the Royal Society. That was no small accomplishment. Rath was sure it had been a boost to his reputation and his rapid rise to prominence in his chosen fields of study, because he had the Prince’s ear. Thereby, the Regent’s monetary support as well. But the main thing that caught Rath’s attention—the man was also a bachelor.
The probe into Mr. Herbert Wentfield’s life had been an entirely different story. And that was odd.
It was perplexing to Rath why Miss Fast wanted to know so much about the two men. Why did Mr. Buckland’s obsession with diggings in the earth for scientific purposes in order to prove historical facts, or to look for animal bones and fossils interest her? Not to mention all the explorations he’d conducted and the honors he’d been given because of them.
Rath hit his knee with the stack of papers. Was she interested in making a match with either of the men? That thought didn’t sit well with him.
And if she had such notions, what was she thinking to send Rath a note asking that he obtainany and allinformation possible for her on Mr. Buckland and Mr. Wentfield? Did she consider Rath her personal secretary to do her bidding on gentlemen she might be interested in for marriage just because he was her guardian?
He blew out a grunted laugh. That was precisely what he was supposed to do. And he had. If making a match with either of these men was her consideration, didn’t she know Buckland was too old for her? He was probably closer to four score than three. He did wonder how sheknew about the unknown Wentfield when Rath’s solicitor couldn’t find out anything about him.
Rath started out not even responding to her unusual and cheeky request of him. Nevertheless, in the end, his responsibility to her and no small amount of curiosity had gotten the best of him. After a couple of days stewing about her note and rereading it numerous times, he’d had his solicitor find all the articles available that had been written about Buckland and the ones the man himself had written. And then Rath had to read the damned stuff to make sure it was appropriate for her to see. He couldn’t allow her to be inquiring about someone who might have led a life completely unsuitable for her to read about. Rath certainly wouldn’t want an innocent young lady reading about his own life.
Though it wasn’t a natural inclination for young ladies, Miss Fast had admitted she liked to till the ground around the flowers and cut the blooms rather than just walk in the garden and enjoy the beauty. Maybe it wasn’t unusual she’d be interested in someone who liked to dig deep below the earth’s surface for ancient carcasses. After all, she’d lived in a house with boys and followed them around until the day she moved to Mr. Olingworth’s. He could see her cousins had great influence in her life. And not in a bad way.
Once Rath had gotten over his reluctance to do so, he’d done what she asked, and now she was going to do the same. And tell him why she’d wanted the details on these men’s lives and work.
There was another reason he’d wanted to get the facts on Buckland and Westfield, though it took a while for him to admit it to himself. Being Marlena’s guardian had given him a challenge unlike any he’d ever accepted before. Over the years of his youth and beyond there hadbeen many dares and gambles from friends and foes alike. Every one he’d met, and most of them he’d won.
The most stimulating had come from his father. For as long as Rath could remember, he knew he’d be a duke one day and in charge of lands, companies, people, and wealth. But it wasn’t until his father had challenged him to be proficient in all the inner workings of the entailed property’s businesses after he left Oxford that he’d set his mind to learning about them all.
And he had.
Rath caught on quickly as he and his father traveled the estates, met the tenants, and surveyed the lands. Often his father had praised him for his intuition, cleverness, and financial skills in all the ventures that kept the estates prosperous. Learning the holdings of the farmlands and the mining companies had pleased his father. The knowledge of all that was easy for Rath to absorb but managing his neckcloth, his time, and his social pursuits was not.
That was where he and his father had parted ways and no amount of challenge could change Rath’s mind. He cared little for high fashion and it showed. No amount of pleading from his father had convinced him to keep his neckcloth properly tied or his coat and waistcoat matching. As soon as Rath was old enough to do so, he’d refused to have a valet dress him or have starch in his collar. Rath wanted to be comfortable, not trussed up like a dandy attending his first ball. His father had never forgiven him for that lax attitude in his clothing, or for the fact that he’d chosen the life of a rake over a gentleman.
At the time, Rath was too eager to taste what was afforded to him. He was only interested in what gave him pleasure and not what his father demanded. Rath felt a sense of peace that his father knew, even though he lingered for months with a broken body after being thrownfrom a horse, before he died that Rath could manage the dukedom well whether or not his neckcloth was properly tied.
Looking out the carriage window, he tapped the papers against his leg for the second time. Right now, his challenge was the responsibility of taking care of Marlena. It wasn’t coming as easy to him as learning about his estates. Women were capricious. Estates were not. But looking after Miss Fast was giving him an unexpected and immense sense of pleasure.
When the carriage finally stopped at Marlena’s house, Rath stepped out into the bright sunlight of a cool afternoon with the ends of the sheets of vellum and newsprint fluttering in his hand. He started up the stone path but his steps slowed as he noticed the patches of blue sky. Without really thinking about it, he changed direction from the front door and headed around the corner to the back of the house.
Tut heard his approach and raced to the fence barking. The little dog made it to the wooden gate before Rath. Just as he’d suspected, Marlena was in the garden wearing her straw hat. A wine-colored shawl was spread over her slender shoulders and knotted perfectly between her breasts. Tut continued to jump on the fence and bark until Miss Fast made it over to unlock the gate.
Stepping inside, Rath swiped off his hat and shoved it under his arm as he reached down to pet the excited dog. He looked up at Marlena and said, “Good afternoon, Miss Fast.”
“Your Grace,” she answered with a curtsy.
Oh, yes. She was as lovely as the first day he saw her. Maybe even more so. Usually he’d rather a young lady not wear a hat or bonnet to cover her hair, but with Marlena, the hat seemed to flaunt how stunning she was.
“I thought I’d find you out here on this sunny afternoon,” he said while Tut danced on his hind legs, begging for more attention.
“Much preferable to being inside. And it is the warmest day we’ve had in quite a few months.”
Her gaze strayed to the papers he held in his hand. He sensed by the gleam in her eyes she was anxious to know what he had. That left him even more intrigued than he was before. If they were so important to her, they were important to him, too.
“Actually,” she continued, “I should have said it’s wonderful for me to be outside. I know you prefer to be indoors so we can go into the drawing room. I’ll have Mrs. Doddle make some tea. We’ll leave Tut outside so he’ll stop jumping on you.”
“I’m good out here, Miss Fast,” he said, giving the head of the small dog another friendly pat. “And Tut isn’t bothering me.”
“Tut, behave,” she admonished. The dog looked at her and gave her a quarreling bark. “Go,” she said and pointed toward the back of the garden. Tut wagged his tail and looked at her but didn’t move.
