The duke’s gaze flicked toward the house, a sprawling, several-times-expanded farmhouse that lacked a uniform style. One might call it “charming” or “quaint.” She could only imagine what an esteemed peer thought of it.
“It sounds as if we’ll need to secure lodging,” the duke said with a slight frown.
Sadie gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible either. Every inn within a ten-mile radius will be booked to the rafters for the festival. Please, just come inside. We can discuss your options while your coachman rests.”
The duke turned his head to the man holding his arm. “Come, Holden, let’s get you some tea.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” The coachman winced as he moved forward, and Sadie noticed he was also limping.
Sadie hastened to move the ladder. While she set the broom down first, however, the duke picked up the ladder and moved it out of the way of the door.
“Thank you,” she murmured, adding, “Your Grace.” She picked up her basket and opened the door, gesturing for all three men to go inside.
Walking into the entrance hall, she led them on through the staircase hall into the parlor. She’d never been embarrassed of her home, and she still wasn’t, but she had to think their modest domicile was not up to ducal standards. The furniture was well cared for, but certainly not new, and the room, as a whole, didn’t pretend to possess any sense of style.
Sadie held out her hand. “Please sit wherever you’d like. I will have our groom run into town to fetch Dr. Bigby.”
The coachman sat carefully in a chair and the valet on the settee while the duke remained standing. “Your groom?” Lawford asked. “Who are you exactly?”
Before she could respond, her father and eldest brother, Esmond, burst in.
“Damn me, there’s a wrecked coach on the road!” Esmond blinked his jewel-green eyes at the three visitors.
Sadie’s father, Winchell Campion, glanced toward the duke and his men, his brown gaze cautious and perhaps even judgmental. “Sadie, who are these gentlemen?”
“Father, Esmond, allow me to present His Grace, the Duke of Lawford. That is his coach on the road.”
The duke’s eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded Sadie with a sudden blatant curiosity. “Your father owns this estate?”
Sadie gestured to her father and then her brother. “Yes, this is Winchell Campion, owner of Fieldstone and squire. This is my eldest brother, Esmond.”
“Your wheel came clean off!” Esmond said excitedly, sweeping off his hat to reveal his dark brown curls. “I bet that scared the piss out of you!” He laughed jovially, and Sadie stared at him.
Their father jabbed an elbow into Esmond’s side. “That is no way to greet a duke. Or anyone else, for that matter.”
Esmond straightened and schooled his features into a more serious expression. It was an astonishing transformation and one that typically only their dear departed mother or Esmond’s wife could provoke. “Welcome, Duke,” he said.
“It’s ‘Your Grace,’” Sadie said softly. “Father, we need to fetch Dr. Bigby. The coachman’s arm is injured, and the valet hit his head.”
The duke pivoted toward her father. “I said we could call on the doctor in town since we have to find lodging. However, your daughter has indicated this will not be possible.”
“No, it will not,” her father said with a laugh. “There’s nary a room between here and Winchester.”
“Then we’ll hire a coach to drive us to our destination,” the duke said, as if Sadie hadn’t already explained that wouldn’t be possible. Did he not believe her?
“I told him that wouldn’t work either.” Sadie didn’t bother hiding her exasperation.
“Listen to Sadie,” her father said. “She knows what’s what, and you won’t find a more clever girl.”
“She mentioned you have a carriage. I would pay you handsomely if we could borrow it. I’ll have it returned as soon as possible.”
Sadie’s father laughed. “That carriage barely makes it to Marrywell and back. No, no, I’m afraid I couldn’t allow you to risk yourselves, especially not after the bad luck you’ve already experienced. Indeed, there’s no vehicle at Fieldstone that will suffice. Do not despair, however! You’ll stay here. We’ve plenty of room, especially since Philip wed a few months ago.” He referred to Sadie’s other older brother, who, like Esmond, lived in a cottage on the estate.
“We couldn’t impose,” the duke said tightly.
Her father walked to him and clapped him on the shoulder, oblivious to the duke’s eyes subtly rounding. “You must, and that’s all there is to it. Your coach is in dire need of repair, and you won’t find anyone to fix it until after the festival. Is your, er, wife with you?”
The duke’s aristocratic jaw clenched as he looked down his nose at Sadie’s shorter father. “I do not have a duchess. When, pray tell, will the festival conclude?”
Sadie had also told him that detail. Had he heard nothing she’d said? She pursed her lips at him in annoyance.
“In a week.” Sadie’s father looked positively delighted.
“That is unacceptable!” the valet snapped.
“It is unfortunate,” the duke murmured.
While Sadie’s father might be pleased to host the duke, Sadie found him arrogant. As well as attractive. No! That didn’t signify. “Can’t Jarvis repair the coach?” she asked. Jarvis was their retired groom and coachman. He lived in a small cottage on the estate.
“We can’t ask him to do that, not with his arthritic hands,” her father protested.
“Perhaps he could advise Esmond and Philip, and they could do the actual work,” Sadie suggested. “I’m sure Adam and Richard could help too.” Those were her younger unmarried brothers.
“I can direct them,” Holden said. “Can’t do much with my arm like this, but mayhap tomorrow, I can instruct them on how to repair the coach.” He shifted in the chair and promptly grimaced. Sadie felt certain he would hurt even more tomorrow and would need to rest.
“Yes,” the valet said quickly. “We must do whatever is necessary to see His Grace on his way at the earliest possible moment.”
“Yates, everyone will do their best, but our accident has occurred at an inopportune time,” the duke said to the older man, sounding beleaguered. Lawford then shifted his gaze to Sadie. “I would appreciate if you could enlist whomever you can to work with Holden to complete the repair. I’ll pay you for the work and whatever you need.” The duke looked to his coachman. “I can help you if necessary.”
Yates appeared horrified. “You cannot perform manual labor. They must have a coach we can borrow,” he insisted.
Lawford swung his gaze back to Sadie’s father, but it was Sadie who responded. “We do not have a vehicle sufficient for your needs. Our coach is old and…well, it’s inadequate for long trips.” Decrepit was the best description, but Sadie wasn’t going to say that.
The valet appeared thoroughly outraged. “But His Grace has important business that he must attend to.”