Duke of Disrepute (Dukes of Distinction #3) - Alexa Aston Page 0,25

sounded. She watched him start up the lane and soon lost sight of him. The December wind continued to howl as the rain pelted the roof of the carriage. Elise pulled the carriage robe about her and Claire and tucked it in. She didn’t know how long the coachman would be gone, much less whether he would bring back a blacksmith to repair their wheel. She was cold and miserable as she rubbed Claire’s back, trying to keep her daughter warm.

The minutes dragged by, the storm never letting up. She hoped the driver had reached his destination and would soon bring back help. The wind rocked the vehicle, which already tilted perilously to the right and she tightened her arms about Claire. Then the loudest thunderclap she’d ever heard sounded, causing her to gasp. Before she could say something to try and comfort Claire, the inside of the coach lit up like fireworks had gone off. She turned and saw lightning had struck a nearby tree, sparking a fire. As the blaze climbed, the tree rent in two and she saw the top half falling in their direction.

It was too late to escape the carriage. Elise pulled Claire to her and ducked her head as the tree crashed into the carriage.

Chapter Nine

Weston closed the ledger he’d been studying and sat back in his chair. He’d been at Treadwell Manor a week now and was settling in nicely, getting used to the ducal suite and finding himself happy being away from the artificiality of London. It amazed him he’d remained so caught up in that life for so many years. He’d forgotten how he enjoyed the simplicity of the country and knew his time with the Digsbys had been well spent, bringing him back to his true self.

He had taken Neal around the estate on two occasions, helping familiarize his new steward with the land and tenants. Mr. Starling had left yesterday, telling Weston that everything would be in good hands for the next several decades, praising Neal’s affinity for numbers and good nature.

Katie had taken to the position of housekeeper as if she’d trained for it her entire life. Quickly, she and Baines had assembled a new staff and they were putting the house to rights. Rooms were being opened and aired. Carpets cleaned. Furniture and silver polished to a fine shine. He almost was sorry he’d agreed to spend Christmas Day with Sam and George at Colebourne Hall since he was ready to show off his own home.

He glanced out at the dreary day. The heavy rain had kept him from walking or riding this morning. He’d hoped it would let up this afternoon but the rain continued and the day remained almost as dark as night, though it was but three o’clock. A little early for tea but he was ready to take a break before burying his nose in the ledgers again. He was studying which crops had been grown and harvested during the last decade and what animals had been bred. He still was interested in adding to his stables and would do so in the coming year.

Suddenly, a figure caught his eye. Weston stood and went to the window, surprised to see someone trudging up the lane toward the main house. No guests were expected. Curiosity had him leave his study and head to the foyer to see who the man was and find out why he was out in such a storm. He arrived in time to see Baines admit the drenched visitor, who stepped into the foyer, watering puddling under him.

“Good afternoon,” Weston said. “I am the Duke of Treadwell. What brings you out on such a wet, blustery day?”

The man pushed back the hair from his brow and bowed. “I’m Mixon, Your Grace. I serve the Earl of Shelby at Shedwell, which is near Barnstaple. I’m driving the Dowager Countess of Ruthersby and her daughter back to their home at Briarcliff. It’s close to Plymouth. We’ve hit a bit of a problem. The carriage is quite old and one of the wheels has come off. Two others are in poor condition. I was hoping you had a blacksmith on your property so he could help us out.”

“I do,” he assured the man. “It could take a while to finish the repairs, though. How are the roads in this weather?”

Mixon shook his head. “Hard to navigate, Your Grace.”

“Why don’t I send my carriage out to the dowager countess and her daughter? It’s already