His Convenient Marchioness by Elizabeth Rolls

Author:Elizabeth Rolls [Rolls, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-10-06T13:17:28+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Harry stared from Emma to Hunt. ‘A duke?’

Hunt could only guess at the boy’s feelings. His own experience had been very different. He had been born with the courtesy title of Earl of Tremaine and had been raised to succeed his father. He had grown up with all the servants calling him my lord and very few people, apart from his sisters and Anne, had ever used his Christian name. Even his father had called him Tremaine. His mother had mostly followed suit. He had become Huntercombe at thirty on his father’s death. There had been no shock, no moment of revelation, no turning upside down of his world. Just a steady progression and certainty.

‘Sir,’ Harry appealed to him. ‘Do I have to?’

‘Harry, dear—’

‘Yes,’ Hunt said firmly.

Harry swallowed. ‘But—’

‘If your father had lived, he would be the next Duke,’ Hunt said. ‘Granted it is an enormous responsibility, but I think your father would have been more than capable and, since you are his son—’ He left the rest for Harry to work out.

The boy was silent for a moment. ‘But won’t I have to live with my—the Duke?’

‘No,’ Emma said very firmly. ‘You don’t.’

Harry looked at Hunt. ‘I don’t?’

Hunt shook his head. ‘No. Your mother and I discussed the matter with your grandfather yesterday. You will remain with us and visit his estates with us from time to time. When you are older you may like to go by yourself. I can teach you much of what you will need to know about running estates generally. Later we can think about the specifics of Keswick’s estates.’

‘You’ll help me, then, sir?’ Harry sounded slightly less panicked.

‘Yes, of course.’

‘And I’m Thirlbeck now? A viscount?’

‘A courtesy title,’ Hunt said.

‘Does Georgie have to call me my lord?’

Hunt bit back a laugh at the hopeful tone. ‘Don’t count on it. And perhaps for now you may like to leave it at Master Harry for the servants.’ The boy had quite enough adjustments ahead of him.

‘Yes, please.’ Harry flushed. ‘I just thought—never mind.’

Hunt kept a straight face. Not unexpected that Harry, despite his shock, had been able to see at least one advantage in his new status.

Harry looked at his mother. ‘Should I go to see my grandfather? Do I have another grandmother?’

‘Yes, you should. And, yes, you do.’ Emma’s smile looked as though it had been glued in place. ‘As well as an uncle, Lord Martin—the tall gentleman with your grandfather yesterday. And several aunts.’

‘Oh.’ Harry bit his lip. ‘When I saw him—Lord Martin—yesterday, just for a moment I thought it was Papa.’ He looked at Hunt. ‘Cannot he be Duke?’

‘No, Harry,’ Hunt said. ‘It has to be you.’

‘But I don’t have to live with the Duke.’

‘No.’ That, Hunt realised, was the boy’s greatest fear.

Harry was silent for a moment. Then, ‘What if Mama hadn’t married you?’

Hunt hesitated, glanced at Emma who had paled. Lord, the boy was quick.

‘He was going to take me, wasn’t he? And Georgie?’

‘Yes.’ He heard Emma’s gasp, but if the boy had realised there was no point lying.

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