Chapter 3

Chapter Three

“ I have missed these streets,” Samuel softly pondered as his carriage drove through the streets of London.

Traveling from Cornwall had been grueling for him, as the snow and cold weather had made the journey difficult and longer than expected. Traveling such long distances in the winter was not ideal, but there was no other option, except to travel by sea, which could be just as uncomfortable. But he endured it, for he wished to unmask the man who had written such terrible things about him, spreading untruths and tainting his reputation.

That person was going to pay dearly.

The journey to London had taken six days, and Samuel was more than ready to leave the confines of his coach and step onto the cobblestones in front of his townhouse in Mayfair. He had not set foot in his London home in a long while, and it would be lovely to settle in, even if it was only temporary. He was not certain how long he would stay in London, but luckily his good friend, Lord Timothy, would be there to keep him company.

As the familiar sights of Mayfair came into view through the windows of the coach, Samuel smiled slightly, already feeling more at home. His absence from London had been too long, but he still felt as though he belonged in the city, surrounded by its wealth and people.

The coach came to a stop, and his footman’s voice could be heard from outside.

“We have arrived, Your Grace.”

“Very good,” Samuel replied.

Within a few moments, the footman opened the coach door, and let down the steps, allowing Samuel to step outside. The air was brisk, and colder than he remembered London being, but luckily, he wore his winter coat, as the countryside was even colder than the city.

He nodded at the footman with gratitude and gazed up at his townhouse. Everything still appeared as it had the last time he was there, and he was unexpectedly filled with nostalgia. The remnants of snow crunched under his boots as he walked up the steps.

The front door opened, and he saw Billings, the butler, and not far behind him, Mrs. Hall, the Housekeeper, standing in the foyer.

Billings bowed, and Mrs Hall curtsied. Billings had been with the family since Samuel was a young boy, and, while Mrs. Hall had not been with them that long, she had been the housekeeper from before Samuel had inherited his title, and was well-known in the family for her diligence, hard work, and discretion. She had certainly encountered many things requiring discretion in her lifetime and had managed to keep them within the walls of the townhouse. She was a stout woman of middle-age, but highly dependable, and had given Samuel a wealth of advice during his life.

“Welcome home, Your Grace,” she greeted him with a polite smile.

“You will find all in readiness, Your Grace.”

Billings smiled as the Duke stepped further into the house, and footmen scurried to go out and remove his luggage from the coach.

“Thank you, Billings, Mrs. Hall.”

“It is wonderful to have you back, Your Grace. We prepared for your arrival over the last week, and have readied a lovely dinner for you.”

Samuel nodded.

“I do not have much of an appetite, Mrs. Hall. It must be due to the long journey. Perhaps later.”

“Very well, Your Grace. I will have your luggage sent up to your rooms immediately. Is your valet with you?”

“Helms will be here shortly – he is following in the second coach, with the rest of my luggage.”

With that, Samuel turned and retreated to the drawing room for some privacy, having no wish to be in his rooms while all of his luggage was being unpacked. The drawing room was still as light and welcoming as he remembered. There were elegant soft furnishings, exquisitely carved items of furniture, and a beautiful harp that stood in the corner. His mother had loved to play the instrument and after her death, Samuel had not had the heart to get rid of it, so it stood now in the drawing room, upon a Brussels weave carpet with a backdrop of mauve and gold-adorned wallpaper. The rich colors gave a feeling of great luxury, as the late Duchess had adored all things exquisite. Samuel could practically see her seated at the harp, her delicate fingers gently tugging at the strings. Angelic music would fill the air, and the room would be even more enchanting when lit, at night, by the glittering light cast from the ornate chandeliers.

A smile crossed his lips, but only briefly, as sadness filled his heart. It was at times such as these that Samuel wished for her guidance. She had been wise and beautiful, and it pained him very much that he did not have her in his world any longer. He approached the harp, wishing that he had the skill to play his mother’s favorite melody, but he knew that he did not. His silence was interrupted by footsteps echoing through the hallway, and a light knock on the drawing room door.

“Your Grace?”

Samuel whirled around and stared at the footman.

“Yes?”

“Pardon the interruption, Your Grace. This letter was delivered for you,” he announced. Samuel noticed the letter in his hand.

Samuel’s brow furrowed, and he approached the footman.

“When was this delivered?”

“Mere moments ago, Your Grace. It was delivered by an errand boy, who simply said that the sender was a gentleman.”

“Thank you.”

Samuel took the letter from the footman, who bowed and left the room, then opened the letter.

From the very first line, Samuel’s jaw clenched at the words. It was from the person who had fabricated those lies about him and spoke of his handiwork so far, and his mission to ruin Samuel and his perfect reputation. With every word he read, Samuel became angrier and could not believe the audacity of this person.

Who did they think they were?

No one was allowed to speak to a Duke in such a manner, much less taunt him the way that the author of this letter had done. It was unacceptable and, in his anger, he balled up the letter in his hands and threw it onto the floor. Stepping away, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest, Samuel knew that he had to find the person responsible, and fast.

After a moment, he retrieved the crumpled letter, smoothed it out, and examined it closely.

Unfortunately, and as expected, the letter did not contain a name or any indication of who was behind this. This did not deter Samuel in any way, but it did make it harder to discover who was behind it – for a moment there, he had held out a slight hope that the letter might provide a clue. Still, he was determined to find the culprit.

Drawing in a few strained breaths, Samuel rushed out of the drawing room, calling for Billings. Once the butler appeared, he asked that the town carriage be brought around.

“I must go to Brooks’ immediately.”

“Very well, Your Grace.”

He went back to the drawing room and retrieved the crumpled letter. He would need evidence to track down this gossip.

A short while later, Samuel’s jaw clenched as he stepped up into his smaller carriage, which did not carry the ducal escutcheon, for he generally preferred to remain inconspicuous. He did not wish to make a fuss over his return or suggest that he was on his way to Brooks’ to gamble, as the letter made clear that the sender suggested he did. Gambling had never been one of Samuel’s vices, as he was impatient and did not possess the skill to win any card games. Yet, according to the slandering writer, he had frequented gentlemen’s clubs and was in financial ruin due to his gambling.

The truth was far from it.

Once the carriage stopped in front of Brooks’, Samuel climbed out and entered the Palladian style yellow brick and Portland stone building. He was welcomed by the establishment’s staff and received numerous nods of acknowledgment. He was rather surprised at this since the tales of his supposed gambling had been made public. He reciprocated the gestures and waved over a footman, ordering his usual drink of choice, malt whisky.

“Yarmouth, is that you?”

A familiar voice spun him from his angered mood, and he glanced over his shoulder, to see the approach of his very good friend, Lord Timothy Colborne. It had been Lord Timothy who had informed him of this whole mess of apparent scandals occurring in London in his absence, and Samuel considered Lord Timothy a true friend for keeping him apprised of what was happening.

The two men had met when they attended Oxford University, and their friendship had stood the test of time and distance since. Each time that they met again, it did not feel as though they had spent any time apart. Their association was filled with ease and comfort, which Samuel greatly appreciated. Any moment where he was able to be himself without any pretense, was a fine moment indeed.

Samuel greeted Lord Timothy with a solid handshake and smiled.

“It is very good to see you, my friend.”

“Likewise. I was not expecting you to arrive for another few days.”

The gentlemen took their seats in the leather chairs at a nearby table and Lord Timothy grinned at him.

“You made the trip from Cornwall in remarkable time.”

“It was not without its challenges, I assure you.”

“I presume the content of my recent letter is what has brought you to London so hastily?”

“Indeed. I require your assistance.”

“What kind of assistance?”

Samuel leaned forward and hushed his voice.

“You have always been keen on mysteries, have you not?”

“Yes, indeed.”

Lord Timothy narrowed his eyes at Samuel, not quite certain what he would say next.

“I require your help to unmask this crazed gossiper who insists on mocking me and threatening to ruin my reputation.”

“I do not understand – have they done something more than just publish that article?”

The Duke took a large swallow of his drink and placed the empty glass on the table. He retrieved the letter from his coat and passed it to Lord Timothy.

“I received this letter from this person at my townhouse in Mayfair shortly after my arrival today.”

Lord Timothy’s brow furrowed as he examined the letter

“How on earth did they know that you were to arrive today? Not even I knew.”

“That is the question, my friend. Perhaps he gave someone a coin to wait and watch until I arrived at the townhouse.”

Lord Timothy cocked his head but did not appear convinced.

“Perhaps.”

“Please, help me in my pursuit of this gossip, Colborne.”

Samuel despised begging since he would never force anyone into helping him if they did not wish to, but he had no other option.

“Of course I will help you. You are my friend, Yarmouth. And speaking of being my friend, do you have plans for Christmas?”

“Christmas in London was not in my plans at all, but here I am,” Samuel stated and ran his finger along the rim of the empty glass. “Why do you ask?”

Lord Timothy’s face lit up, and he grinned widely.

“Then you must join my family and me for the holiday, starting with dinner the day after tomorrow. Our chef prepares the best goose, which I am certain you will love.”

Samuel pondered only for a moment.

“I do enjoy a well-prepared goose. Would I not be imposing on your family’s celebration?”

Lord Timothy waved a hand, dismissing his objection.

“Of course not. They are looking forward to meeting you.”

Samuel shifted in his chair and rested his hand against his cheek.

“You have not consulted them, have you?”

“I have, but I may have been vague when they inquired of your identity.”

“Would the rumors of my supposed indiscretions and antics have anything to do with your vagueness?”

“My apologies, Yarmouth. It is not that I am ashamed of you, nor do I believe those rumors for a moment, but you must understand something. My mother’s adamance on the matter of keeping our family reputation as stainless as possible is very strong. My father, on the other hand, will welcome you with open arms since I have spoken of you to him many times, and although he has not met you, he already thinks highly of you.”

Samuel sighed.

“That is certainly a relief. I would not wish to upset your mother or any member of your family. And I do not wish them to be upset with you either.”

“Do not fret, old friend. I will explain the situation to my parents first thing on the morrow. My father is very understanding, and I will make it clear that the rumors of you are not true.”

“You are a good friend, Colborne.”

Lord Timothy smiled brightly and rose to his feet.

“Another drink?”

“That would be lovely.”

Samuel and Lord Timothy spent the rest of the night conversing and sharing stories of all that had occurred whilst they had been away from one another. Despite being apart for so long, it felt, as it usually did between them, as though no time had passed since they had last been together. Between the walls of Brooks’, the two friends became reacquainted as their friendship strengthened, and Samuel felt more at home than ever in London.