London, England 1811
Phillip Brandenburg sat rigidly straight throughout the long service. He positioned his aristocratic stare on his grandmother and sighed quietly. His glance traveled around the vast ancient cathedral of St. George’s, Hanover Square for what appeared the hundredth time.
“Do be still!” Lady Margaret Brandenburg hissed, “You are behaving like a veritable schoolboy!”
Taking up his most arrogant tone, Phillip replied, “Begging your pardon, your grace. I did not realize that you were so attached to my grandfather.”
“Fool!” the grand duchess exclaimed under her breath, “Do be quiet for a little while.”
Lapsing into silence, Phillip sat there sulking as the minister droned on about the tremendous virtues of his grandfather’s grace. At long last the funeral procession moved solemnly out into the drizzling rain and fog. Pulling his greatcoat closer about him, Phillip opened the umbrella he carried to protect his grandmother’s dress from the elements. “I told you not to order crepe at this time of the year, Grandmother, but you would have it your way.” Phillip shook his head smugly.
Grimacing, the Duchess of Berkett tapped him roughly with her silk Chinese fan. “Whatever am I to do with you?” she asked, shaking her head in frustration, “I had thought that you were of an age to settle neatly into your position, but here you are at one and thirty continuously aggravating my poor overwrought nerves.” She sighed deeply and turned to the freshly dug grave of her husband. The finishing shovels of dampened earth were being patted into place.
She moved cautiously toward it and placed a single black rose on the mound. “For your black heart,” she murmured under her breath so that no one could possibly overhear her irreverence.
Phillip took her elbow and silently led her to the waiting carriage, easily brushing aside sympathetic murmurs from friends and acquaintances. As the carriage slowly rolled away, the duchess shook out her wet skirts as she settled more comfortably against the squabs. Her grandson watched her with some little amusement, patiently awaiting her next words.
“Egad!” the usually correct duchess swore loudly, “One would think the old duke had served in the wars. Or produced some miraculous bill to the House of Lords that would make England a better place for all the ranting that wretched minister spouted. Gibberish, the lot of it.” Angrily, she stomped her foot on the floor of the carriage as she leaned forward in irritation. “Why the devil didn’t that ignorant parson explain to them what a horrible old man he truly was? That he struck his wife everyday and bullied the poor servants into terrified obedience?”
“I do not know, Grandmother, perhaps he was merely unaware of the true facts. After all, it has been some years since the duke left the old country estate for the outside world and very little was known of him.
“But even so, what purpose would it have served to belittle the dead? You are fortunate to have been in town these past few years effectively escaping his ranting and wrath.”
“La! What do you know of a woman’s suffering?” The duchess stared at him until at last Phillip was forced to look away from her piercing gaze.
“Apparently, considerably more than you would give me credit for. Did I not sit and watch my mother’s agonizingly slow death? The poor dear woman grieved herself into an early grave over that wretched scoundrel who had the nerve to call himself my father.” Phillip glared back at his grandmother without flinching or moving a single muscle.
“I realize that she was a milksop, but there is no need to blame my son for your mother’s pathetic death. Perhaps, you have the situation a tad bit wrong, my dear Phillip.” The duchess steadily held his gaze.
“Not in the least of it, I daresay,” Phillip answered without hesitation. “He left her in the country pining away for him while he lived a happy-go-lucky life in town. He was never a favorite of the ton, but I believe he was well liked among the Muslin set. Would not the knowledge of such adventures be enough to turn a lady of sensibility into a brokenhearted woman who felt cast aside for more exciting entertainment?” Phillip declared bitterly. “She was a wonderful woman, who was certainly of the quality, but he dared to treat her as nothing more than a brood mare. Once the heir was born, my father discarded her unmercifully.”
“Alas, I am too fatigued to discuss this further,” the duchess sighed with dismay and then continued with a measure of sympathy in her voice. “It would seem that both you and I have been misused by our relatives in the past. However I should like to begin anew. Let’s call a truce, shall we?” The duchess extended her hand while exacting a smile at him in a valiant effort to win him over. “It is my belief that once we reach the townhouse,” she explained miserably, “that the will shall be read leaving you all of the bulk of the duke’s estate. I doubt if the old geezer has made the slightest provision for me. Perhaps you would not throw your poor grandmother out into the streets.”
Phillip reluctantly took her cold hand in his and smiled slightly. “Never would I allow you to live in abject poverty, for it would not suit you. Certainly I will provide the same sort of lifestyle you have become accustomed to.”
“Thank you, Phillip, you are more than generous.” The duchess smiled wanly and leaned back against the squabs once more. “I am greatly relived that it should be so.”
Phillip allowed her to rest until the carriage slowed to a stop in front of the glorious front door to the house on Grovesnor Square. He looked upon her with tenderness for the first time in several years and wondered if he had indeed misjudged her in many ways. After all, her plight had not been easy and the old duke had been difficult on his good days.
The tiger swung the door open and let down the steps, causing Phillip to jump, suddenly shaken from his deep thoughts. The duchess descended regally down the steps and then swept up the stairs that led into the townhouse. Phillip tagged dutifully behind her, dreading the upcoming hour and wishing fervently that it were already past. “Phillip, do go into the library and see if my solicitor is awaiting us. I shall be there directly. I will tell Gibson to bring refreshments to us.”
“As you wish, Grandmother,” Phillip continued down the long elegant hallway and opened a door slightly. Taking a deep breath, he pushed it fully open and walked in to find a little gentleman sitting with his legs stretched before the fire. He jumped to his feet as soon as he heard Phillip’s steps on the hard wooden floor echoing toward him.
“Oh, so you are returned at last, Mr. Brandenburg. How did the proceedings go?”
“About as dull as every such occasion. The duchess shall be with us momentarily. Do you wish for some port?” Phillip asked as he crossed to a sideboard and poured himself a stiff drink.
m. “I am certain that you understand that the last will and testament of your grandfather is to be read as soon as your grandmother joins us. I can only say that it is curious indeed.”
“How so?” Phillip asked, intrigued.
“That shall remain a secret but a few moments longer,” the solicitor answered benignly. Just then the door to the library opened and the duchess stepped in followed by the maid carrying a loaded tray of cakes, sandwiches and tea.
“I am sorry to delay the proceedings, but I simply had to see that some tea was served at once. Such a trying ordeal, burying one’s husband, do you not think so?” she asked the room in general.
“Of course, your grace,” Mr. Edgar replied, sweeping her a magnificent bow. “My deepest condolences to you to be sure.”
“Please, be seated, Mr. Edgar, and let us be done with this sorry business. I am weary and ready for some peace and quiet. Let us not stand on ceremony so be quick about this.” She poured tea into three cups and handed them to the gentlemen, then passed the sandwich plate around. “Now, that we shall be able to partake of at least a small meal, let us begin. Did you bring the documents with you, Mr. Edgar?”
“But of course, your grace.” He searched in a pocket and drew out his spectacles. Then reached into a leather case and withdrew several sheaves of paper.
Unfolding them carefully, he began to read: “I, Lord Ralph Garrison Brandenburg, fifth Duke of Berkett, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath to my wife, Lady Margaret Brandenburg, absolutely nothing.”
There was a stunned cry from that good lady, which was quickly stifled by the dead faint she fell into. Phillip jumped to his feet and reached onto the walnut side table for his grandmother’s smelling salts, as she was prone to faint and kept them in every room. Waving the vile smelling bottle under her nose, her ladyship coughed and then fluttered her eyes open.
Lady Margaret smiled weakly and held her hand up, in order to be pulled to a sitting position. “Dear me, I did not mean to faint but such a whisker is hard to handle. Did I fall off of the settee?” she asked, somewhat stunned.
“Yes, Grandmother, are you all right?” Phillip asked, as he tugged her gently up onto the piece of furniture she had just slipped from.
“I do believe that I am quite recovered. Pray, go on Mr. Edgar.” The duchess waved her hand, impatiently trying to hurry him on.
“If you are positive, your grace,” Mr. Edgar replied skeptically.
“Do go on.”
“Very well . . .let me see. . . ah, yes. To my grandson, Mr. Phillip Brandenburg I hereby bequeath my entire fortune, including the estate in the country, the townhouse on Grovesnor Square, and the cottage in Scotland. It is further requested that he shall marry within six months of my death or shall forfeit the entire fortune, estate and bank books to my faithful valet, Harwell.”
The rest of the will included the paying off of the staff and various other boring details that Phillip did not hear at all. “Are you saying that I must marry? Within six months? Was he mad?” Phillip asked incredulously.
“Those were the terms. You have six months from the reading of this will, which of course would be from today, your grace. You have inherited the title as well. Congratulations, you are now a very wealthy young man.” Mr. Edgar bowed low to the new duke and swept the dowager duchess one as well.
“Is there not a way to dispute his sanity?” Phillip inquired, still stunned.
“This is not uncommon, your grace. Many gentlemen request such a thing in order to secure the lineage. You must understand that he was merely trying to keep the title and wealth from dying with him. I certainly wish you luck in finding your future wife.” Mr. Edgar rather hurriedly packed up his things and was preparing for a hasty exit. “By the way, your grace, your grandfather requested that you visit the country estate post haste and make certain that all is well. He was most worried about the farmers taking advantage of his death and taking too much from his man of business, a Mr. George Westcamp. He expected you to take care of that matter before you wed.”
“Is he trying to keep me from inheriting the title? Do you know how long it will take to make it to Berkett Castle and then come back here in time to court a bride, out of season, mind, and marry her?” Phillip asked in disbelief.
“Yes, and so did your grandfather. If you hurry in your choice, you just may make it yet,” Mr. Edgar explained, as he bowed his way out of the room.
“Well! How do you like that?” Phillip tossed his delicate china cup viciously into the fireplace, shattering it into tiny shards of glass.
“Should you want an old lady’s opinion, I will be happy to give it to you,” Lady Margaret stated cautiously.
“Indeed?” Phillip asked, raising one eyebrow in mock concern.
“Indeed.”
“Very well then, out with it.” He walked over to the sideboard and poured himself two fingers.
“It would be to your advantage to find a bride once you reach Berkett. Certainly any female still unwed at this time of the year would jump at the chance to marry the new duke,” the dowager duchess supplied level headedly.
“That is a splendid idea, Grandmother. Do you really think there is such a female about?”
“One thing is certain, you will not know unless you venture to give it a try. Perhaps you would allow me to come with you for some womanly advice.” She casually glanced up at him as she poured herself another cup of tea. “It has been a long while since I have been to Berkett Castle and I would like to see to some things that have been unfinished for a great deal of time.”
Phillip poured out another glass of port and then sat down in front of the fireplace. He looked thoughtfully at his grandmother, emptied his glass and let out a long sigh before answering, “If it suits you, then we shall leave in one week. I shall call for you around eight of the clock.”
“That will do very well,” the duchess smiled gratefully. “What is to become of me, Phillip?”
“Never fear, my dear grandmother, for I shall make sure that you always have a home with me, if that is your wish,” Phillip answered absently as he stared into the fireplace, contemplating his future without much enthusiasm.
“Thank you, Phillip. I am forever in your debt, to be sure.”
“Yes, well until we meet again.” He rose to his full height and then crossed over to her, kissed her lightly on the forehead then disappeared out the door.
“Thank you, Phillip, for at least caring enough not to throw me out into the street in disgrace,” she whispered, allowing a single tear to fall, staining the black crepe dress he had so carefully tried to protect.
