Lord Sheffington?”
“I am a fraud,” he said flatly.
The duchess frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, I am an earl. But the way that came about is a long story.”
Curiosity filled her eyes. “I do enjoy a good story.” She glanced around. “There. That bench. Come sit with me and tell me everything.”
She made her way to the stone bench nearby and settled herself. Not wanting to seem churlish, Rhys followed and sat beside her. The faint scent of roses wafted over him, coming from her and not the garden. Her cheeks even bloomed as a rose might and he itched to cradle it and caress it with his thumb.
“Well?” she asked expectantly.
He sighed. “I was born to a man who helped in the building of ships. He died when I was eight and I became the breadwinner for my family. My mother had a weak heart and passed that condition along to my sister, who died when she was eight and I was ten. Mum was too ill to work by then. I eventually found work as a groom, working in a viscount’s stables.”
Her hand covered his in a gesture of comfort.
“I am so sorry, my lord. I had no idea.”
“It’s not a story I share,” he said brusquely, wondering why he was opening up and telling it to her.
“You had to grow up very fast,” she said softly.
“I did. It made me the man I am today. At fifteen, though, I was plucked from obscurity by Lord Sheffington, who was a distant cousin of my mother’s. His only son was sickly and the earl discovered I would be next in line for the title. I was given new clothes to wear and a tutor, who spent the next three years giving me an education and spending tireless hours helping me try to lose my thick accent.”
Rhys met her gaze and saw nothing but admiration, putting him off-balance.
“How remarkable. A self-made man.”
“Sheffington purchased my army commission and I never heard from him until shortly before this past Christmas. I had assumed Viscount Raleigh had recovered and would one day assume the earldom if he hadn’t already.”
“Instead, you were called home and became the new earl.”
He nodded. “My mother’s cousin may have held the title of gentleman but he had behaved abominably. He’d grown tired of his nagging wife and feeble son and walked away from them, living a separate life in London for a good decade. When I arrived in London at his urgent request, I learned Viscount Raleigh had died from pneumonia and that Lord Sheffington himself was on his deathbed.”
He pulled his hand from under hers, self-conscious about it, and looked her directly in the eyes. “So you see, Your Grace, I feel like an imposter. My mother, who was a gentleman’s daughter, fell in love with a common laborer. I was raised in poverty but had the good fortune to become an officer in His Majesty’s Army. As a former groom, I suppose I relate more to my butler than I do members of Polite Society, which is why I consulted Wiggins.”
Rhys stood, uncomfortable sitting next to her, linking his fingers behind his back.
The duchess sprang to her feet, her smile wide. “Oh, I quite admire you, my lord. I think it brilliant to have consulted your Mr. Wiggins. Who better than a butler to know how to run a household? I am just sorry that he did not accompany you from town. It would have made things easier on you.”
He shook his head. “You are very understanding, Your Grace. Yes, I have my work cut out for me at Sheffield Park. I have much to learn about the land and my tenants. The household itself is in a state of disarray. The housekeeper quit soon after the former countess’ death. Several of the servants left around the same time. When I arrived, I found both the steward and butler to be too old and infirmed to manage much of anything and pensioned them off. Right now, I am only using two rooms in the house since there is only one maid and a cook. My valet, Callow, is trying to put things in order but the house is in great need of several repairs.”
She smiled. “Then I insist upon helping you, Lord Sheffington. My late husband gifted me with one of his unentailed estates upon his death. It was one of my favorites to visit, thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Marsh, the dear couple who runs the