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  DUKE'S FOLLY

  A Regency Romance

  by

  Melinda Hammond

  © 2018 Melinda Hammond

  First published in "A Summer of Dukes" Regency Romantics Box Set Summer 2018

  All rights reserved.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the author.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author: this e-book is licensed for your enjoyment only. It is not to be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon and purchase your own copy.

  This work is a work of fiction. The characters and incidents are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any real person or incident is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover design by JD Smith Design.

  DUKE'S FOLLY

  A Regency Romance by

  Melinda Hammond

  What is a duke to do, when he falls in love with someone who is totally unsuited to be a duchess?

  When Peregrine Beaucliffe becomes the ninth Duke of Cullenmore he is determined to do his duty, which includes fulfilling a promise to his grandfather to marry before he reaches thirty. He does not see this as a problem, because it has always been accepted that he would marry the highly eligible Lady Honoria Flintley. All Perry has to do is propose.

  However, as the responsibilities of his new role press in upon him, Perry decides that he will take a holiday before he settles down to his new life, a holiday that includes a visit to one of his smaller properties, a sham castle prophetically named Duke's Folly…

  "…Melinda Hammond writes a heart-warming, Austen-ish style historical romance…" (Romance Reader at Heart, Thoughts & Ponderings)

  "Melinda Hammond is one of the brightest stars in the Regency firmament. Her plots are fast-paced, her characterization impeccable and her ability to evoke the past in a vivid and colorful way superb!" (www.singletitles.com)

  CHAPTER ONE

  Peregrine Alastair Rupert Wyre Beaucliffe, ninth Duke of Cullenmore, gazed at the grey-haired man sitting at the other side of the paper-strewn desk.

  'Mark me well, Rafford. I am quite serious about this.'

  His long-suffering steward sighed. 'But Dukes do not take holidays, your grace.'

  'This one does! I have spent the past year learning what is required of me, looking over my estates.'

  'Not all of them, your grace.'

  'The major ones, then.' Perry amended. 'The smaller ones will have to wait for my return.'

  His steward tapped at one of the papers open on the desk before him. 'Including your lands in Hampshire your grace? They have been sadly neglected. The agent,' he peered at the signature, 'Grieves, says the rents have not changed for a decade.'

  'Then another few months won't hurt.' Perry waved an impatient hand. 'I have given you carte blanche to do what you think fit while I am away, if anything urgent should arise. If my father had done as much, we should not be in this pickle.'

  The steward shifted in his seat and Peregrine moved on quickly. 'But that is no matter now. I am fully aware of my responsibilities, including keeping the promise I made to my grandfather that I would marry before I reached thirty. But before all that I am going to take a few weeks to enjoy myself with Sir Edmund Baslow at his little rustic property in the West Country.' He paused then added, 'When I return I shall do my duty and offer for Lady Honoria Flintley.'

  His steward merely inclined his head silently at this pronouncement, but when Perry said the same to his friend, the reaction to his marital intentions was very different. It had taken Perry three days to reach Ned's snug little hunting lodge on the edge of Exmoor, riding with only his groom in attendance, something his ducal household thought foolhardy in the extreme.

  'Marry Honoria?' exclaimed Ned, almost choking on his brandy. 'Why on earth should you do that?'

  'Because she expects it.'

  They had enjoyed a good meal, washed down with generous quantities of wine, and Ned at least had reached the point where he did not scruple to be totally honest with his old friend.

  He shook his head. 'Don't do it, my boy. The lady is as stony as her name. And it's not as though you are in desperate need of her money to prop up your crumbling houses. With the economies you have made since inheriting from your father, you have halted the decline and I have no doubt you are already seeing an improvement. No, my friend, don't do it. Find yourself a cosy armful to share your bed at night.'

  'If there were any cosy armful, as you put it, that did not bore me to tears within a week I might do so, but at least with Honoria there is no risk of my hurting anyone. We understand one another. I need an heir, she wants a husband and a title.' He could not help his mouth twisting in distaste. 'She has assured me that she has no wish to keep me in her pocket, and will not expect me to share her bed, save for the purposes of begetting a son.'

  'See what I mean? A cold fish. You could do much better for yourself, my boy.'

  'No, no, Honoria will suit me very well. What I do need, though,' added Perry, looking around him as his friend refilled their glasses, 'is a comfortable little retreat such as this where I may get away from my duties now and again.'

  'Where you may get away from Honoria, more like,' muttered Ned.

  Perry laughed. 'Perhaps. I tell you, Ned, being a duke is a life sentence, if one is going to do the thing properly that is, and not turn one's back on everything, like my father did. No, one is surrounded by dependants, all of them reliant upon the ducal fortunes to provide for them. Sometimes, just sometimes I should like to shut myself away and pull up the drawbridge.'

  Ned slopped more brandy into the glasses and grinned blearily across the table at him.

  'Well why don't you do it? You own a castle, or had you forgotten?'

  Perry stopped, his glass halfway to his mouth.

  'By Jove, Ned, you are right. I have the place in Hyndmarsh!'

  Perry sat back in his chair, a faint smile playing about his lips. His great-grandfather, the sixth duke, had built a miniature castle on a small island in the middle of Hyndmarsh lake on his Hampshire estate. It was a fairy-tale building, with a round turret on each of the four corners and a gatehouse, complete with drawbridge. Or at least, it had been.

  'I had forgotten about it,' he said now. 'After all, I haven't seen it for more than twenty years. We had some grand times there as children, did we not, Ned? Before my grandfather let it to a French émigré. I wonder if the fellow still lives there? I suppose not, for I cannot recall seeing any entries for rent in the ledgers.'

  'You mean you don't know?' Ned chuckled. 'And you told me you had been familiarising yourself with all your properties.'

  'The land in Hampshire is occupied by tenant farmers, the rents collected by Grieves, the local land agent. Everything seems to be going on pretty well and Rafford was keen that we should begin with the larger estates, which were in desperate need of attention. My father had done very little, as you know, but the worst of it was he would not allow Rafford to do anything, either. We have had a time of it, I can tell you. We began by selling the town house. Great barn of a place that I have never used, and even m'father preferred to stay elsewhere! And for the past few months Rafford and I have been visiting the tenant farmers, listening to their grievances and putting in place a series of improvements. What with that and settling my mother in the dower house, I've not had time to bother my head with trifles.' />
  'Well, perhaps you should go and see the Hampshire trifle. What was it called, Duke's Folly?'

  'Aye, that's it. A sham castle with no practical military use at all.' Perry laughed. 'I think it would be the perfect retreat for me.'

  'If there has been no rent, it could well be a ruin by now,' Ned warned him.

  'All the better, because I won't have to evict a tenant.' Perry pushed his glass back across the table for Ned to refill. 'I shall go and see Duke's Folly on my way home!'

  *

  Perry spent two very pleasant weeks with Ned, but at last he knew he must make his way back to Hertfordshire. He had received a letter from Rafford informing him that there were several matters now requiring his attention. However, he decided that whatever these matters were, they could wait a couple more days while he made a detour to ride home via Hampshire, where he wanted very much to look at his castle.

  The weather was kind, with the late May sunshine warm on his shoulders as he rode through the leafy lanes. His farmlands in Hampshire were extensive, but there was no country seat, only the sham castle built by his great-grandfather. Perry knew the folly was within a few miles of the town of Hyndmarsh, but his memories of the folly's exact location were sketchy and by the time he reached the woods that surrounded the town it was growing dark.

  'Your grace, we should find somewhere to put up for the night,' his groom warned him. 'You don't know what state this castle o'yours is in. But even if it is still inhabited you can't expect a tenant who don't know you from Adam to put you up, especially a Frenchie.'

  Perry shrugged. 'No need to fret, Wragg. If all else fails we shall sleep under the stars.'

  'The devil you will,' exclaimed the groom, outraged. 'What would her grace say to that? Bad enough that you's travelling with just me to attend you, without you starts sleeping out o' doors.'

  'My mother will not know of it unless you tell her,' retorted Perry.

  'I'm no snitching-rascal, Master Peregrine, as you should know!'

  Realising he had seriously offended his man, Perry begged pardon. Wragg had been Perry's groom since he was a child and had taught him to ride. He was so much more than a servant, and Perry would never wittingly snub him. Perry set himself to smooth Wragg's ruffled feathers but he was only partially successful and when they turned onto the narrow track that led to Hyndmarsh, Perry lapsed into silence, knowing his manservant would come around in his own good time. The sun was very low now, and the trees growing thickly on either side shut off most of the light, bringing an early dusk. Perry led the way, keeping his horse to a trot and scanning the ground for obstacles as he went.

  He was startled by the sudden creak of a branch and his horse shied as a pale figure dropped out of a tree close to the path. He had the impression of an elfin creature, a fair-haired girl with her skirts tucked up to display a pair of long, shapely legs.

  'Whoa, Dulcie.' He gave his attention to calming the frightened animal and by the time he looked back the vision was much more decorous, her skirts once more in place. She was also older than he had first thought.

  'I beg your pardon,' she said. 'I did not mean to startle anyone, but I did not hear you coming.'

  She spoke quietly, but with no sign of shyness, which surprised him.

  Wragg gave a huff of displeasure. 'No, well, we don't expect no one to drop out o' trees, unless they're up to no good!'

  The girl ignored him and was busy tucking something wrapped in a white cloth more securely under her arm.

  'What have you in there?' Perry demanded.

  'A cockerel,' she replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She raised her head and gave him a challenging look. 'I have not stolen it, if that is what you think. It escaped when we were on our way to market this morning and flew up into the boughs. I have just come back to retrieve it.'

  His lips twitched. 'From up in the tree.'

  'Yes.' Her head came up a little further. 'Now, if you will excuse me, I must get home.'

  And with that she turned and disappeared into the undergrowth.

  'Wragg,' said Perry slowly. 'Did I just dream that encounter?'

  'No your grace. I saw her too. A harum-scarum piece, and she was probably telling you a tale about the bird, too.'

  'A poacher in my woods, you think?' Perry laughed. 'Well, she was a mighty pretty one! Ah well, I doubt she will come back this way, so we'd best get on.'

  He set Dulcie to a trot and did not draw rein again until they were within sight of a neat coaching inn on the outskirts of Hyndmarsh, a freshly painted sign bearing the image of a greyhound swinging in the breeze. He turned to address his groom.

  'This looks comfortable enough. I am enjoying my holiday too much to become duke again yet awhile, Wragg. We shall not be here for more than a few days so I shall be plain Mr Wyre for the duration.'

  'If that's what you want, your― sir.'

  Perry grinned. 'I do want it, Wragg! So, what do you say, shall we enquire if our host yonder can put us up for a couple of nights or shall we make our way to Hyndmarsh and find something nearer the centre of the town?'

  'Neither your grace. We should go back to Cullenmore. I don't hold with this havey-cavey business. If you wants to visit here you should do so as the duke, and not pretend to be what you ain't.'

  Perry ignored him. 'My preference is to stay here. I think it will be best not to spend too much time in the town, don't you?'

  'I think 'tis madness,' retorted Wragg. 'Madness, and so I tell 'ee. No good'll come of it.'

  'Oh come, my friend, you take too dim a view of things.' Perry laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. 'For the next few days we shall be a gentleman traveller and his groom. What harm can there be in that?'

  CHAPTER TWO

  The inn proved to be clean and well kept, and Perry spent a comfortable night in his small room overlooking the road. He came down the following morning to a plentiful breakfast of ham and eggs washed down by the landlady's home brew. When he had finished he went outside into the sunny yard and as Wragg saddled up the horses he asked his host the way to Duke's Folly.

  The landlord frowned, scratching his head. 'Let me see now, the quickest way would be to take the forest track, back the way you came until you reach the fork that will bring you out by the lake. From there you'll be able to follow the path around to the bridge.'

  'Oh, is there no longer a drawbridge?'

  'Well that's the bridge, but it's been lowered for many a year now and is so settled in and grown over that I doubt it could be raised. Lord love you, sir, can you remember so far back?' The man looked up at him with bright, enquiring eyes. 'You be a friend of the monsoor, then?'

  'Something like that.'

  Perry gave the man a polite, vague smile and mounted up, nodding to Wragg to follow him. They cantered along the path indicated by the landlord. It was cooler amongst the trees, the new leaves filtering the morning sunlight and the air was full of birdsong. Riding through the wood, untrammelled by servants or ducal duties, it suddenly felt good to be alive.

  'Don't know what you've got to be so happy about,' his groom muttered, when Perry laughed out loud.

  'It is a lovely day, Wragg, and who knows what adventures await us? Look, that must be the fork in the road our host described. We shall soon be at the lake now!'

  He cantered on until he could see the sparkle of water glinting through the trees. He drew rein and waited for Wragg to come up. As they walked on, voices could be heard coming from the direction of the lake and when they emerged from the trees Perry spotted two boys in a small rowing boat close to the far bank. He gave them only a cursory glance, his attention being caught by the huge edifice rising up behind them.

  Perry's breath caught in his throat and he was transported back to his childhood. The stone castle looked every bit as big and grand as his memories of it. The rectangular perimeter wall had drum towers on each of the four corners. The castellated walls rose tall and grey in the morning sun. Perry could not reca
ll anything of the accommodation, save that the rooms were built against the outer walls. From the outside he could see there were windows set into the walls, narrow apertures, to be sure, but he recognised now that the casement windows, glazed in the old style with leaded lights, were far too wide for the arrow-slit openings of a medieval castle. They were on two levels, indicating rooms on an upper and lower floor, while the arrangement of windows in the towers suggested there were rooms on three storeys. His heart quickened in excitement. What an excellent retreat this would make for him. If the tenants could be persuaded to move out.

  He rode on slowly, rekindling his memories. The castle occupied the northern end of a narrow island with all but the south wall rising directly up from the water while the land stretched back to the south to provide a small amount of ground. Perry could see from his present point on the lakeside road that it had been cultivated and now provided gardens that could be reached from a solid wooden door set into the southern curtain wall. He recalled that there were two square towers built into the northern wall, flanking the main gates, where the old drawbridge linked the castle to the mainland at the narrowest point of the lake, but he decided he did not wish to make his way to the entrance just yet. He had spotted a small jetty almost hidden beneath the grass and rushes on the bank.

  He was in line with the boys in the boat, who were quiet now, looking towards him. He waved.

  'Ahoy there! Can you ferry me across to the castle?'

  'Ferry you?' muttered Wragg, beside him. 'Why, the bridge is barely a hundred yards that way.'

  'I know, but I have a yearning to be rowed across,' said Perry. He raised his voice again. 'Well, my friends, can you oblige me?'

  The boys conferred, then one of them shouted back, saying imperiously, 'Who is it who wishes to visit the Kingdom of Hyndmarsh?'

  'Kingdom!' exclaimed Wragg, 'why by all that's―'

  'Hush,' said Perry, enjoying himself hugely. 'I am but a weary traveller, come to pay his respects.'