Chapter 6

Chapter Six

" E dmund, darling, do stop scowling at those ledgers. You'll give yourself wrinkles, and then where will we be?"

Edmund looked up from his desk to see his grandmother, Lady Alderton, sweeping into his study. Her eyes twinkled with mischief, belying the stern set of her lips.

"Grandmother," he said, rising to greet her. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?"

Lady Alderton paused, her keen gaze sweeping over him from head to toe. "My, my," she murmured, a note of approval in her voice. "You do cut quite the figure, Edmund. Every inch the Duke."

Edmund felt his cheeks flush at the compliment, unused to such praise. He tugged at his cravat, suddenly feeling like a schoolboy under scrutiny. "Yes, well, appearances can be deceiving. I'm afraid the duchy itself is in a far less impressive state."

His grandmother's eyebrow rose. "Oh? Do tell, my dear. How bad is it?"

Edmund sighed, gesturing for her to take a seat as he leaned against his desk. "It's not good, Grandmother. Father left things in a sorry state, indeed. Debts, neglected tenants, crops failing due to poor management. It's a mess."

Lady Alderton's face softened with sympathy. "Oh, Edmund. I had no idea it was so dire. What do you plan to do?"

He straightened up, squaring his shoulders. "What I must. I'll fix it. Every last mistake, every misstep. I'll make Holbrook prosperous again, no matter what it takes."

"That's my boy," she said, her voice warm with pride. Then, a sly look crossed her face. "You know, dear, there might be an easier way to solve some of these problems."

Edmund's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Oh? And what might that be?"

Lady Alderton waved her hand airily. "Oh, nothing too drastic. Just a thought—perhaps it's time you showed your face in Society again and I mean properly this time. Hiding behind a mask at that masquerade ball hardly suffices, especially when you disappeared for most of the evening." She gave him a knowing look. "Make some new connections, re-establish old ones. For business, of course." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And pleasure."

"Grandmother…" Edmund hissed, feeling heat creep up his neck.

"What?" Lady Alderton asked innocently. "A duke needs a duchess, Edmund. And Holbrook needs an heir. Surely you can't argue with that logic?"

Edmund groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thank you for the advice, Grandmother, but I'll pass. For now, at least. I have more pressing matters to attend to than prancing about at balls and soirées."

Lady Alderton's lips twitched with amusement. "Prancing? My dear boy, I assure you, no one has ever accused you of prancing. Stalking, perhaps. Looming, certainly. But never prancing."

Despite himself, Edmund felt a smile tugging at his lips. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"So I've been told," Lady Alderton replied cheerfully. "Now, promise me you'll at least consider it? For my sake, if nothing else. I'm not getting any younger, you know, and I'd so love to see Holbrook filled with the pitter-patter of little feet before I shuffle off this mortal coil."

"While I appreciate your desire for grandchildren, I must decline. My focus needs to be on Holbrook's recovery, not on frivolous social engagements. Besides, you'll outlive us all, Grandmother, and you know it."

Lady Alderton sighed, "What a mule of a grandson I have. We shall discuss this matter again in the future. Now, tell me more about these plans of yours for Holbrook. I want to hear everything."

As Edmund launched into an explanation of his ideas for crop rotation and yield improvements, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

His grandmother could be meddlesome at times, but her unwavering support was a balm to his burdened soul.

Later that evening, Edmund found himself being dragged to his gentlemen's club by an exuberant Daniel. The noise and smoke of the gambling room assaulted his senses as they entered, a stark contrast to the quiet solitude of his study.

"Come on, Eddie," Daniel urged, clapping him on the shoulder. "You need to loosen up a bit. All work and no play makes for a very dull duke, indeed."

Edmund scowled at the nickname. "I've told you not to call me that, Daniel. And I'm here, aren't I? Though heaven knows why I let you talk me into this."

They settled at a table in a quieter corner, a bottle of brandy appearing as if by magic between them.

Daniel leaned in, his eyes alight with the thrill of gossip. "You'll never believe what I've heard," he said in a stage whisper. "Apparently, the ton is all abuzz about the mysterious new Duke of Holbrook. Some say you're a recluse, driven mad by the war. Others swear you're secretly married to a foreign princess and hiding her away in the country."

Edmund snorted into his brandy. "Ridiculous. Don't these people have anything better to do than speculate about my personal life?"

Daniel grinned. "Of course not! What else is the ton for if not idle gossip and wild speculation?" He paused, studying Edmund's face. "You know, you could put an end to all this talk if you'd just make an appearance at a few events. Maybe even dance with a lady or two."

But Edmund was only half-listening. His mind had wandered, as it so often did these days, to the mysterious woman from the masquerade ball. Those flashing green eyes, that quick wit… He wondered what she'd make of these ridiculous rumors.

"Edmund? Good heavens, are you even listening to me?" Daniel's voice broke through his reverie.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Appearances and dancing. Sounds thrilling," Edmund replied dryly.

Daniel's eyes narrowed. "All right, out with it. What's got you so distracted? Or should I say, who?"

Edmund shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come now, Edmund," Daniel scoffed. "You've had that dreamy look on your face all evening. Thinking about our mystery lady from the masquerade ball, are we?"

Edmund scowled. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm simply contemplating the estate's finances."

"Oh yes, because crop yields always make a man sigh wistfully into his brandy," Daniel quipped. "Let's see what we know about these sisters, shall we? There's two of them?—"

"Daniel, I really don't see the point in?—"

"The elder," Daniel continued, ignoring him, "is sharp-witted and supposedly Scotland-bound. The younger is vivacious and has excellent taste in costumes. Peacock feathers suit her admirably."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "Are you quite finished?"

"Not even close, my friend." Daniel grinned. "Now, what else? Ah yes, they're well-bred but prone to clandestine adventures. Rather exciting, don't you think?"

"If you say so," Edmund muttered.

"Oh, I do say so. Now, let's consider our options for gathering information. There's Lord Rutherford?—"

"Who's perpetually in his cups," Edmund interjected.

"Exactly! Then we have Lady Windhurst?—"

"And her infernal poodles."

"You're catching on! What about old Weatherby?"

Edmund snorted. "I'd sooner ask his horse for information."

"Well then." Daniel's eyes twinkled mischievously. "That leaves us with the indomitable Lady Thistlewaite."

Both men shuddered dramatically.

"You know," Daniel said, leaning in conspiratorially, "we could always ask your grandmother. If anyone knows the comings and goings of every family in London, it's the formidable Lady Alderton."

Edmund blanched. "And have her interrogate me about my sudden interest in eligible young ladies? I think I'd rather face another cavalry charge."

Daniel threw his head back and laughed. "The great Duke of Holbrook, the terror of the battlefield, quaking at the thought of his grandmother's matchmaking schemes. Oh, how the mighty have fallen!"

"Yes, yes, very amusing," Edmund grumbled, though his eyes sparkled with good humor.

"I suppose we'll just have to do this the old-fashioned way," Daniel responded.

"And what way is that?" Edmund asked, arching an eyebrow.

Daniel grinned, a determined glint in his eyes. "Why, attending every blasted social event in London until we find her, of course!"

"I have no int—" Edmund began, but before he could finish, Daniel raised his glass in a toast, ignoring him.

"To the Great Sister Hunt! May our livers survive the endeavor!" he exclaimed and clinked his glass with Edmund's.

Despite rolling his eyes at first, Edmund felt a surge of excitement at the idea of encountering those flashing green eyes and sharp wit again.

Just once again.