Page 4 of Miss Ridley and the Duke

“Hmm … that is a fresh idea to consider, but who?” Annabel tapped her teeth with her fingernail in agitation, thinking back on conversations with Richard over the years. After a few moments, she answered, “His cousin, the Duke of Halmesbury. Richard used to mention the duke all the time, although he has not in quite a while⁠—”

“The Duke of Halmesbury, you say? Where have I heard that name just recently?” the housekeeper interrupted, a frown on her face as she searched her memory. “I know!” she exclaimed, startling Annabel as she leapt from her seat and left the breakfast room.

Annabel stared after her retreating form through the open door as the matronly woman trotted down the hall. Glum, Annabel turned back to her plate of eggs, ham, and fruit. She forked up some baked eggs and brooded while she chewed, staring in bemusement at her china teacup.

She looked back to the door at the sound of Mrs. Harris’s huffing return. The housekeeper was clutching a copy of The Gentleman’s Magazine under one arm, her other hand pressed to her heaving bosom. Stepping back into the breakfast room, she turned and shut the door with a swipe at her perspiring brow.

“I found it!” the housekeeper trilled, resuming the seat next to Annabel.

“Found what?”

“The most recent copy of The Gentleman’s Magazine has an article on the Duke of Halmesbury.” Annabel arched an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that, child! Lord Filminster discarded it, and Stedman reads it to us belowstairs, so we know what is happening.”

“Well, show it to me, then.”

“I don’t know which page it is on. You will have to find it. These eyes are not what they used to be, and the letters are too small.”

Annabel concealed a smile as she took the magazine and flipped through its pages. “Here it is! ‘His Grace, the Duke of Halmesbury, renowned for his estimable charitable work, recently oversaw the renovations and restaffing of The Halmesbury Home for Children.’ I wouldn’t have thought The Gentleman’s Magazine would print articles about foundling homes?”

“They usually do not, but His Grace is the most marriageable noble in the kingdom. The article is about him, not his works. Fathers such as Lord Filminster read it.”

“Ah, fathers who need to marry off their daughters to make important connections. I see your point.” Annabel quickly scanned the article and looked up in excitement. “He is in residence at his country seat, Avonmead, in Wiltshire, to oversee the reopening of the children’s home. That is just a day’s ride from here, Mrs. Harris!”

“Aye, but a day’s ride might as well be all the way to London, child. How will you get there to speak with him?”

Annabel chewed on a fingernail as she thought. “I could feign illness and take to my chambers. You could insist on bringing my meals to me, so we could pretend I am here while I ride to visit the duke. It will be a secret between you, me, and Gibbons. As stable master, he will have to hide the fact that I have taken a mount.”

Mrs. Harris’s broad face looked appalled, her horrified hazel eyes searching Annabel’s face. “Have you gone mad?”

“Mrs. Harris, I can do this. I will dress in my riding garb with an overcoat and hat to ensure I appear to be a man. I will avoid other travelers and ride straight through to Avonmead. Then the kindly duke with the excellent reputation will send me back in a carriage. It is a minor risk to save my future.”

Mrs. Harris looked uncertain.

“Mrs. Harris, if I do not find a way to evade this marriage, I will have no choice but to sell my jewels and run off to the Continent. Or travel north to Scotland to find an occupation.”

The older woman hissed in horror, her face crumpling as she considered Annabel’s words.

“And Mama would want me to be bold to save myself,” Annabel added gently.

Mrs. Harris sighed, worry lines wreathing her face. “Aye, but she will return from the grave to murder me if anything happens to you.” At those words, Annabel knew the housekeeper was almost decided in her favor. She waited in silence as Mrs. Harris continued. “We will have to imply it is your monthly illness, or his lordship will call for a doctor. If he thinks it is your courses, he will stay far away to avoid your feminine vapors, as he likes to call them. I could buy a couple of days if I shoo the maids away from your rooms and take your meals upstairs myself.”

Annabel clapped her hands in delight and kissed the worried housekeeper on her plump cheek. “You are a treasure, Mrs. Harris.”

“Aye, a treasure of a fool to even think about this. And I will be a fat fool when I eat all your meals for you,” she agreed in a plaintive tone.

Annabel continued, distracted by her planning. “I shall leave this evening to ride overnight, so I reach his estate by midmorning.”

“Overnight!” cried the housekeeper.

“Yes, there will be less chance of being seen. It is a full moon tonight, so I can see to ride.”

“But blackguards … and highwaymen … and … and men!”

“Mrs. Harris, I will ride steadily all night to save the horse’s stamina, so I can ride like the wind if I hear so much as a twig snap. I will take the double-barrel pistol to protect myself. No one will expect to waylay a lone rider after midnight. Now let me see Mr. Gibbons to discuss which mount will traverse the distance best.”

The normally cheerful matron croaked in despair as she dropped her head into her folded arms on the table. “Child, you will be the death of me.”

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