The Light in the Duke's Shadow: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 11

  As they approached the dining hall, Jules took a breath and pushed aside thoughts of his quest. He needed to put on a good face as a guest. His mother would roll over in her grave to know that Jules was doing disrespect to their family name by acting ungrateful in the face of such a kind act.

  Scott stepped ahead and pulled the heavy dining hall door open for Jules who gave him a nod of thanks. As he stepped through the door, he noted that it was some sort of oak stained dark and at least two inches thick. He supposed that if anyone wanted to leave the dining hall, they should have a good set of muscles to do so.

  Lord and Lady Winchester turned from where they were having a conversation quietly. Lord Winchester walked down the length of the long dining table that was set out with flowers of the season and candles to light their meal. “Your Grace,” Lord Winchester gushed, his voice echoing around the dining hall, “It is wonderful to see you up and about as you are.”

  “I have always had a good constitution,” Jules said with a smile as he took the hand that the man offered him.

  After a firm shake, Lord Winchester released Jules’ hand and said with a smile, “I suppose that you have already met my wife, Lady Winchester. I did not know if you remembered us from our dealings with your father some years ago.”

  “I am afraid that I do only vaguely recall that you and my father had arrangements,” Jules said with an apologetic smile. He turned his eyes on Lady Winchester who eyed him with what Jules might have thought was a vague distrust. “I also regret that I do not recall much about our meeting last night.”

  Lady Winchester smiled, but with a tightness that Jules took as discomfort. “I would be surprised if you remembered much, Your Grace. It was a frightening ordeal, and you were injured.”

  “Yes,” Jules said quietly as his finger flexed around the top of the cane. “Shall we be seated? I do not mean to push, I merely wish to rest after taking on the stairs.”

  Lord Winchester said, “Of course. How horribly inconsiderate of us.” The man ushered Jules towards a chair. “Please, sit down and make yourself comfortable. We want you to think of this as your home and to rest.”

  “Speaking of my home,” Jules said as the man went around the table and took a seat at his own chair at the head of the table, “has anyone sent word to my household of my whereabouts? I imagine that they were quite worried when I did not return home.”

  Lord Winchester frowned. “I am not certain—”

  “We sent correspondence to your home to let them know that you were safe and recovering here,” Lady Winchester said as she took her seat.

  Jules nodded. “Thank you for doing so. Some of my staff has been with my family for generations, and they liken themselves to being as much my family as any blood,” Jules said with a chuckle.

  “And you stand for that?” Lord Winchester asked as if in amazement.

  Jules gave a one-sided shrug with his good shoulder. “I do not mind their affections. It makes them loyal to the family and trustworthy. Do you not find those useful traits?”

  Lord Winchester frowned. “I can see where they would come in handy,” he said as if the idea had really just occurred to him.

  Lady Winchester eyed her husband with an odd expression that Jules could not place. He gave up trying as the door to the dining hall opened again. Out of habit, Jules stood up upon hearing the swish of a dress. Lord Winchester followed Jules’ lead and stood up as well as Penelope came through the door that Scott held open for her.

  “Thank you, Scott,” Penelope said with a smile at the man.

  Scott bobbed his head, “Aye, Miss.”

  Jules realised where he had heard Scott’s accent before. His family had a maid a few years back from Ireland, and she had the same soft accent in her words. Jules gave Scott a nod of his head which the man returned.

  “Lady Withersfield,” Jules said with a smile that he could not help. The woman’s emerald dress set off the golden tresses that hung against her shoulder in a braid. Jules’ mother had always been fond of braids and often said that a woman with a braid was a woman who took her time.

  Lady Withersfield returned his smile. “Good evening, Your Grace,” she said with a soft rush of breath that sounded to Jules like the wind sighing.

  Lord Winchester cleared his throat. “Do sit down, Penelope,” he said impatiently. Lady Winchester gave her husband a disapproving look but kept silent.

  Lady Withersfield looked at her father with a touch of annoyance in her eyes. “Oh, Father, no one is as hungry as you claim you are all the time.”

  Lord Winchester narrowed his eyes at his daughter as he lifted up a bell and rang it. Lady Withersfield merely laughed lightly as she crossed the table to sit on the side next to her mother, across from Jules. As Lady Withersfield took her seat, so too did Jules and Lord Winchester.

  Jules watched the woman intrigued by her. The last time he had seen her she looked like a slip of a girl, clean faced and innocent of the world. This evening she wore crimson on her lips and a blush on her cheeks. Jules was mesmerised by the transformation of a girl into a woman that he saw in her. The scent of lilies that clung to her beckoned him to come closer, even if it was neither the time nor the place.

  With much effort, Jules looked down at the plate that a servant set in front of him. He should comment on the food. His mother would be upset if he did not compliment the hostess on her food. Jules took a breath and said, “What a lovely meal you have had your staff make, Lady Winchester. I have always been fond of a hostess who goes right to the meat course.”

  Lady Winchester gave the man a smile. “My husband is very fond of his stews and likes them served as soon as they are hot.”

  “Well, that is when they are best,” Jules said in agreement as he fished out a lovely big chunk of what looked to be beef out of the broth and vegetables. The juice was hot and slightly sweet. He gave a nod of his head at the taste.

  Lord Winchester said, “This stew is the reason our cook works for us. She makes the best stew on this side of England, I would wager.”

  “It is commendable,” Jules said with a smile.

  Lady Withersfield spoke up. “I rather prefer her bread.” She tore off a piece of the roll and popped it into her mouth with a smile at Jules who stared at her for a few seconds. She gave him a curious look before she turned her head to answer a question from her mother that Jules had not even heard. “No. I think Miss Lorraine is taking the evening meal in her room. She is still feeling a bit faint.”

  “Miss Lorraine?” Jules asked curiously.

  Lord Winchester said, “She is Penelope’s governess and tutor. She would normally be joining us for the evening meal, but she has been a bit under the weather.” By the expression on Lord Winchester’s face, Jules assumed the man would rather the governess stay in her rooms all the time. Jules wondered if Lord Winchester actually liked any of his own staff.

  “It is the season the doctor says,” Lady Winchester added as if to assure Jules that they were not sickly.

  Jules laughed. “Ah, yes,” he said with a smile. “My mother was often affected by the seasons and the flowers that they brought. She particularly could not walk outside when the oak trees in the yard were spreading their yellow dusting around. She would be in bed for a week if she dared.”

  “I get a bit affected by that as well,” Lady Withersfield said in commiseration. “But Miss Lorraine will be as right as rain in no time. She just has to stay inside and drink lots of warm tea for a bit.”

  Jules said, “My mother always said peppermint tea helped her.”

  “I shall make sure that Miss Lorraine is drinking some then,” Lady Withersfield said with a smile.

  There was a warmth that spread through Jules. Not a burning or a searing as the blade had done to him, but a gentle warmth as if from the hug of someone beloved. Jules returned his eyes to his stew and focused for a bit on simply eating.

  The family talked among themselves for a while before the course was done and servan
ts came to clear the table. It took the staff little time before the next course of a salad was in front of them. Jules was grateful that it was a light course. He already felt better from the stew, but he did not want to put too heavy a meal in his stomach yet.

  Still, Jules was feeling better, and he was grateful for that at least. He eyed the Lord and Lady. There was something about the way they interacted that felt off somewhat, but Jules had met plenty of couples like them in the past. Men in power often wielded it indiscriminately.

  As they began to eat the second course, Lord Winchester enquired, “Are you still searching for a bride?”

  Jules’ eyes came up, and he stared at the man for a moment not knowing quite how to respond to that. He dared not even look in Lady Withersfield’s direction. Had she put her father up to asking that question?

  Lord Winchester continued as if Jules was not staring at him in bewilderment. The man’s voice bellowed out like he was blowing a trumpet rather than talking. “You were at the party same as my wife and daughter, and it seemed a reasonable assumption that you were looking for a match.”

  “This really is not the time to speak of this is it?” Jules asked.

  Lady Winchester said, “Of course not.” Jules looked relieved then immediately tensed as the woman added, “I am more curious as to whether you truly saw nothing of the person who stabbed you?”

  “You and Penelope did not see him either, darling,” Lord Winchester pointed out, his voice echoing around the chamber as if the man truly had no idea how loud he actually was.

  The three other people at the table, Jules included, knew that Jules was the only person who had a chance to see the attacker, but that was a fact that Lord Winchester was not privy to. Jules did not wish to ingratiate himself to any members of the Winchester household. He cleared his throat. “I really do not think that is an appropriate conversation in front of ladies such as yourself, Lady Winchester.”

  “Quite right,” Lord Winchester chimed in as he thumped the table with his fist.

  Lady Winchester flinched at the noise of it. She looked like she very much wanted to press the subject a bit further, but her husband gave her a long stare that ended with her dipping her head and accepting what he had said.

  Lord Winchester added, “The fact is, Your Grace, that without my daughter’s timely rescue, you would probably be dead. I should think that that would make you grateful to her.”

  “I am,” Jules insisted, his eyes darting over to Lady Withersfield. The young woman’s eyes, however, were on her father.

  Lord Winchester said, “Surely you find her lovely, do you not?”

  “Father,” Lady Withersfield said with emphasis as she put her napkin down on the table.

  Jules knew that Lord Winchester was implying that he should show his gratitude by marrying Lady Withersfield, but he had not expected the look on the young woman’s face. It was clear that she did not appreciate her father implying such things. Jules frowned slightly at that.

  He should not be so interested in the young woman. Indeed, he should be focused on getting home so he could be free to continue his investigation. The more he thought of it, the more he decided he needed to find Lord Portland and put an end to this cat and mouse game of theirs.

  “That is a lovely painting,” Jules said as he gestured towards a large painting of Lord Winchester over the fireplace. Jules had hoped that bringing up the painting to the man would suitably sidetrack him.

  Lord Winchester smiled and said, “Oh yes. It is remarkable, is it not? Penelope painted it a couple of years back. I really think she has a wonderful hand when it comes to painting, do you not agree?”

  “Did you truly paint that?” Jules asked Lady Withersfield in astonishment. When she nodded, Jules said, “I would have said that a master painter had done that portrait.”

  Lord Winchester nodded his head. “She has a quick mind and a keen eye for catching the likeness of people. As of late, though, they have not been as happy as they once were.”

  “She does a fine job,” Lady Winchester interceded.

  Lord Winchester nodded again. “Of course, she does. I just meant they have not been the same.”

  Jules eyed the young woman who took a sip of her drink and refused to look at him. Jules looked down at his salad and wondered if he should say something more, but Lord and Lady Winchester were still bickering back and forth a little the way married couples often did. He let them have their conversation as he ate.

  It was not until dessert that Jules began to get truly restless. He swung his foot forward to stretch the muscles in his aching leg and came down on a toe that did not belong to him. He saw Lady Withersfield jump slightly.

  Her eyes shot up to him, and she gave him an accusatory look. Clearly, the woman thought he had done it on purpose, which Jules found mildly amusing, but he gave her a helpless expression and a slight shake of his head.

  “Are you quite well, Your Grace?” Lady Winchester asked.

  Jules cursed his luck that the woman had seen his odd facial expression. Lady Withersfield eyed him expectantly. Jules narrowed his eyes at her before he put a smile on his face to look at her mother. “Yes, I just drifted away in thought and lost myself for a moment.”

  Lady Winchester frowned at him, but Lady Withersfield looked positively amused by his little white lie. Jules looked down at the pie in front of him and sighed. He picked up a bite of the berry pie and ate it slowly letting the juices melt over his tongue with their sweet tartness.

  A day ago, all he had to think of was his revenge, and now here he was struggling to keep thoughts of the young lady across the table from him out of his head. What a strange day it had been, Jules mused silently. If he did not have his quest, could he be happy with Lady Withersfield? Jules’ eyes came up to look at the woman and the way she held herself. The question might be would he be able to let her go to finish his quest?

  ***

  When everyone had finally retired for the night, even the stairs let out groaning that sounded tired to Jules as he climbed the stairs to his room. He had meant to bring up the subject of his departure, but the talk at the table had derailed his thoughts. He would be here at least another night. That thought did not comfort Jules, nor did it bring him great misery.

  “Thank you for aiding me tonight,” Jules said to Scott as he grasped the doorknob to his bedroom.

  Scott nodded his head. “Do you need assistance getting undressed for bed?” The man looked like he clearly thought the answer should be that Jules did indeed need help, but Jules very much wanted to be alone with his thoughts.

  Jules said, “No, I can manage. Go on and find your bed.”

  “If you are certain, Your Grace,” Scott said. The man hesitated until Jules nodded at him and made a dismissive gesture with his hand. Reluctantly, Scott turned and headed downstairs to go to the staff quarters.

  Jules entered the bedroom that was his for yet another night. He shut the door behind him and leaned on it heavily. The room felt so still that the air was heavy with the stillness. Jules was not bothered by that. After the loud booming voice of the Marquis, Jules found the quiet rather nice.

  Thoughts of the Lady Withersfield haunted him like ghosts. He shook his head as if to loosen their grip yet she remained. It was not until the thoughts forced him to think of the questions that plagued him that he pushed away from the door. Jules was lonely, that fact was plain to even himself. Yet, that did not mean that he should give up the pursuit of truth to obtain a bit of companionship.

  Lady Withersfield was headstrong and not easily dissuaded. She was a capable woman, but was she a woman that Jules could love, not just admire? He scoffed at the very idea of it. His mother and father had a loving relationship. Jules had always admired how they loved each other, grounding each other and lifting each other in turns.