A Duke in Danger Read Free Page B

expect there will be someone who will look after me at the Castle.”
    “I hopes there’ll be, Your Grace,” Bateson murmured. “But I thinks it’s a mistake, Your Grace, not to take your own man with you.”
    “Nonsense!” the Duke replied. “You are worrying about me unnecessarily, as you did when I was a small boy. I am sure the Castle will be just as I remember it.”
    H e sprang up into the Phaeton and took the reins from the groom.
    I t was with a feeling of intense satisfaction that he looked forward to enjoying every minute of driving the finest team of horses he had ever possessed.
    T he Phaeton, which Gerald had also purchased for him, was so light that it seemed almost to spring off the ground as if it had wings on its wheels.
    As he drove round Berkeley Square, he would have seen, had he looked round, Bateson staring after him with a look of apprehension on his old face.
    He walked into the house and, as he did so, told the footmen sharply to wind up the red carpet which they had put down over the steps and out over the pavement.
    Then he went into the kitchen, where his wife was clearing up after the luncheon with the help of two new scullery-maids who had no idea where to put anything.
    “Has he gone?” Mrs. Bateson asked.
    Bateson nodded.
    “He’s not to let Her Ladyship know that he’s coming.”
    Mrs. Bateson put down on the table with a bang the heavy brass sauce-pan she was holding.
    “We was told!” she said almost fiercely.
    “Yes, I know. His Grace had meant to stay here, I understand, for several days, and we’d then have had a chance to inform Her Ladyship.”
    Mrs. Bateson gave a sigh.
    “As it is, there’s nothing we can do. I suppose you didn’t think to say anything to him?”
    “ ’Course not! It’s not my place.”
    “He’ll have a shock, of that there’s no doubt!”
    As Mrs. Bateson spoke there was a ring on the bell. Bateson got up slowly from the chair.
    “Who can that be?”
    “Caller, probably.”
    “I suppose I’d better go myself,” Bateson grumbled. “These young ’uns won’t know what to say.”
    He padded slowly back along the passage to the Hall as if his feet were hurting him.
    As he opened the door, he saw to his astonishment that the Phaeton in which the Duke had just driven away was outside.
    “ What is it? What’s happened?” he asked the groom who was standing on the door-step.
    “His Grace has left in the Library some papers which he particularly wanted with him.”
    B ateson smiled.
    It was somehow almost a relief to find that his new Master was human and could make mistakes like everyone else.
    “Come with me,” he said to the groom, and in a dignified manner walked across the Hall towards the Library.
    The Duke, holding the reins of his team outside the house, was frowning. He could not think how he could have been so stupid as to leave behind the papers the Bank had sent him with an inventory of the contents of the Castle.
    He supposed he had been so busy admiring the house and its contents that it had for a moment slipped his tidy, self-disciplined mind, which usually made him punctilious about the smallest detail with which he was concerned.
    However, he had gone only a short distance and little time would be lost.
    It was then that he heard a voice. He looked down to see an elderly man with white hair and a somewhat lugubrious face looking up at him.
    “May I ask, Sir, if you’re the new Duke of Harlington?” he enquired.
    “I am.”
    “I was a-calling to see Your Grace.”
    “ I am afraid you are too late. I am just leaving. I will be back in a few days.”
    “It’s important that I see Your Grace now.”
    “What is it about?” the Duke asked.
    As he spoke he glanced towards the front door, hoping the groom would return and he could be on his way. With a little hesitation the man said:
    “It concerns certain family treasures. I have one here in which I think Your Grace’d be interested.”
    “Thank you, but I am not