Dukes to Fall in Love With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection

by Bridget Barton

  But when she turned to look at her mother, she could see that Ariadne was deep in thought, her eyebrows knitted together and her forehead furrowed. She was thinking about something, even as she looked down at her daughter, bruised and in pain on the floor of the morning room, she was clearly preoccupied. Ella felt sick and desperate and wished that she had run the moment Violet had suggested it.

  “She is lying,” Ariadne said a little vaguely.

  “What are you talking about?” the Earl said with an air of exasperation. “Well, say it,” he demanded.

  “Did you not tell me, husband, that the Duke told Henry Mercer that Ella was not allowed to take meals with us?” Ariadne looked suddenly pleased with herself as if she was about to win great favour with her husband.

  Ella knew what was coming, and she could hardly believe that her own mother, a woman whom she had suspected of trying to build bridges between the two of them, was now going out of her way to make things even worse for her daughter than they already were.

  “Yes, the Duke told Mercer that he had heard it from Ella herself. That is what she told him when she was out on the grounds, Ariadne. That is why she will not admit to what she has said.”

  “No, she is lying,” Ariadne went on, her eyes wide as if she had just made some grand discovery. “For we did not disallow her meals at the table until after that day. She must have gone out to see him elsewhere to tell him that. Do you not see that this is a falsehood, My Lord?”

  “Mama, how could you be so cruel? How could you treat your own flesh and blood so dreadfully? You deserve everything that you have coming to you, Ariadne Belville, and I hope when that punishment comes it is most fitting.” Tears coursed down Ella’s cheeks.

  At that moment, she knew she had never felt so hurt in all her life, so utterly and completely abandoned. She had no one in the world to care for her now, and she knew it. Ariadne had never been a good mother, and they had never been close, but she had never suspected for one moment that her mother would do something so cruel, something that would put her in even greater danger than she was in already.

  “Ella, how dare you speak to me that way?” Ariadne looked horrified, and Ella could find no more words.

  “Where did you meet him? Did you take your scandalous little self all the way to Hillington Hall so that you might beg for his help and hope that he would marry you? I ought not to have let you set foot out of this house the minute I realized what a brazen little thing you are. I knew your intentions, I could read them in your eyes, and I ought to have acted upon them immediately. Well, you will not speak to the Duke again.”

  “I have no intentions of speaking to him, Lord Dandridge, and I did not seek him out.”

  “Please do not try to tell me that he sought you out. He is a Duke, a man of great wealth and note, a man of great title. And men of great title do not look so far down when they are choosing a bride, believe me.”

  “Well, you did.” Ella knew immediately that she had made a grave mistake.

  Ariadne cried out in anger and was about to speak when her husband reached down and lifted Ella to her feet by her hair. As Ariadne continued to complain about the insult that Ella had made, the Earl held her painfully in his grasp, twisting her hair in his hands as tears of agony rolled down her cheeks and her hands fought uselessly to free her.

  “You will not leave this house again, Ella Winfield. You will come upstairs with me now, and you will do so quietly.” His voice was low and dangerous again, and Ella knew that she was trapped; she was at his mercy, and there was nothing she could do about it. “If you attempt to cry out and draw attention to yourself, if you seek to have any of the servants come running, I will throw you down the stairs before they get here. I will throw you to your death, and you may believe that.”

  “Yes,” Ella said, believing it entirely, knowing in her bones that he would, without hesitation, kill her if he had to.

  “You will walk up the stairs with your mother and me, and you will not speak one word. You will walk of your own volition and know that if I have to lay a hand upon you, it will only be to throw you to the bottom. I will break your neck.”

  “Yes,” Ella said again, not knowing what else to say.

  The Earl released her suddenly, and she raised her hand to her scalp, trying to ease the pain, even as she felt the wetness of blood there.

  She took her hand away and stared at the blood before looking over at her mother. Ariadne’s face was pinched and cold, her determination to keep her offence at Ella’s comment very clear.

  “Tidy up her hair, Ariadne,” the Earl snapped waspishly, and Ariadne jumped to do his bidding. She roughly pulled Ella’s hair back and re-fastened it, ignoring her daughter’s whimpers of pain and applying no tenderness whatsoever, despite Ella’s obvious injuries.

  “You will keep your face down as we go,” the Earl instructed Ella in something more akin to a matter-of-fact manner than a threat.

  His demeanour had calmed so quickly that Ella could hardly believe the man was sane at all. And she knew that her face must be dreadfully bruised already if he was instructing her to hide it away in case they should happen upon one of the servants.

  The Earl strode to the door and opened it, walking out into the hallway as if to check for a clear passage.

  “Come now, come quickly,” he said to both mother and daughter, and they followed him as he headed for the stairs.

  Ella’s legs trembled with every step she took upwards. Even if she did not make a sound, she did not trust Ronald Belville not to throw her down the stairs anyway. His moods seemed to swing so violently that she could only hope she could make it to the top without incident.

  Ella quickened her pace, keen to get out of harm’s way, even if she did not know what was to become of her next. If she could just get the stairs out of the way, she would at least be alive. She would at least move on to the next dreadful chapter intact and have some hope of saving herself in the end.

  When they reached the top of the stairs, and the Earl gently took her arm to lead her west along the great corridor, Ella was almost overcome with a sense of relief. She was still afraid, but she was still alive, and she had never realized until that moment how precious her life was to her.

  When they reached the end of the corridor which took them into the east wing of the building, the Earl opened a narrow door and ushered her up a staircase she did not even know existed.

  “Keep going, that is it. All the way to the top,” the Earl instructed brusquely.

  The narrow staircase consisted of several flights, and Ella quickly realized that they were heading towards the top of Dandridge Hall. Swallowing down the dreadful feeling that he was simply taking her up to the roof to throw her off, Ella stayed quiet and continued to put one foot in front of the other, going ever higher and higher.

  When they reached the top, she realized that they were on a bare landing, so spartan and dusty that nobody could have used it for years. There was only one door, and it had a great, heavy key protruding from the lock. The Earl twisted it once and pushed it open and then took Ella by the arm and dragged her inside.

  Ariadne followed meekly behind, looking around the room as if in nothing more than general interest.

  The room was dark, but not entirely dark. There was a small amount of daylight coming in from a little window in its far corner in the eaves of the roof.

  There were trunks here there and everywhere, along with a great many items that had apparently been discarded over the years, packed away by previous generations as being of little use in the hall.

  There was old furniture, odd chairs, low tables.

  They were in the attic, and Ella realized immediately that that was where she would be staying. And the idea that there was no way out gave her a dreadful sense of panic.

  “You surely cannot leave me here,” she said, her fear obvious in her trembling voice.

  “You will stay here until I say you may leave. Your mother will bring your meal
s up to you; I will not starve you if that is your worry,” he said and laughed heartlessly.

  Ella could hardly believe he would say such a thing, for she had not even thought of it herself. The idea that the Earl would leave her there to starve to death had never crossed her mind. But now that it had, it sickened her.

  “You cannot leave me here forever,” Ella said in a voice that was purely beseeching.

  “It will not be forever,” the Earl said unconvincingly. “Just until either of my daughters is to marry the Duke without any more of your interference. Once they are married, and he is safe from you, I will let you out.”

  “But what if …?” Ella said and knew she must not finish her sentence.

  But what would happen if the Duke chose not to marry either Patience or Georgiana? What would the Earl of Dandridge do to her then?

  The Earl turned to walk out of the attic room, and Ariadne followed him without even looking back at Ella. They closed the door behind them, and Ella heard the heavy key turning in the lock.

  Chapter 26

  “Well, I am off for another dinner at Dandridge Hall, my dear Henry.” Rufus had, with the help of his valet, got himself ready early and had sought out Henry for a little company before he headed off for Dandridge.

  He had seen Henry Mercer earlier and had thought him somewhat out of sorts. Whilst Henry was a quiet man, he was always talkative. There had never fallen any silences between them before and yet, as that day had gone on, and Henry tried to go about his work, he seemed to hardly speak at all.

  Something about it had unsettled Rufus, troubled him greatly. As he had made himself ready for his evening engagement, the sudden thought that Henry Mercer was unwell, even gravely ill, came upon him irresistibly.

  He cared a good deal for Henry and had known him since he was a boy. He was a regular presence at Hillington Hall, a hard-working attorney who attended to Duchy business constantly, working in the little study two, sometimes three days a week.

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Henry said absentmindedly, and Rufus wondered at his lack of enthusiasm.

  Every other attendance at Dandridge had been met with great approval from Henry Mercer, leaving Rufus in no doubt that his ageing attorney very much favoured the Earl’s daughters for a match.

  “Forgive me, Henry, but is something troubling you?”

  “Troubling me, Your Grace?” It was clear that Henry was trying to look surprised by the notion, but he was by no means convincing.

  “Yes, troubling you. You have been quiet all day, and when you returned from your business yesterday, I am bound to say that you looked unwell. Forgive me for prying, Henry, but let me tell you that there is nothing that you cannot say to me. If you have some matter of business that is causing you concern, you may speak to me about it at least. Whatever it is, I am sure that I will be able to help you.”

  “Your Grace, you are very kind indeed,” Henry said, and there was a fleeting look of sadness on his face; Rufus was sure of it. “But there is nothing troubling me; I assure you. I am, perhaps, just a little under the weather, so to speak. You will know something of it yourself when you reach my great age.” Henry gave a light laugh, but it was so devoid of humour that Rufus was no better informed then than he had been before.

  As much as Henry sought to deny any unease, Rufus thought that he could feel it even stronger than ever. There was something very wrong with Henry Mercer; he had no doubt of it.

  “Then perhaps you ought to take a little rest, my dear fellow,” Rufus said, feeling certain that he would get no further by questioning. “Is there something so pressing that you really need to be here working today? Can it not wait a day or two? Or a week, or two?” Rufus smiled at him. “Henry, I would not see you working yourself to death for me, really I would not.”

  “It is nothing beyond a little upset, Your Grace. An aching bone here or there, nothing serious. Forgive me if I seem far from my normal self.”

  “I do not mind it, Henry,” Rufus said and felt his worry growing graver still. “I am just concerned, that is all. You really must tell me if there is something, and you must take time to yourself if you need it. You do not need my permission; for heaven’s sake, you have been at Hillington Hall longer than I have.”

  “Yes, I suppose I have,” Henry said and stared off into the middle distance almost as if Rufus were not there. “So many years.”

  “Henry?”

  “Forgive me. I think my mind is wandering a little. Perhaps I will take your advice, Your Grace, and at least make my way home for the rest of this day. I am sure that I will be back to full strength tomorrow, and I shall return to continue with my paperwork.”

  “Well, only if you feel up to it, Henry. If I do not see you tomorrow, I will know that you have decided to take my advice properly.” Rufus laughed and laid a hand on the old attorney’s shoulder. “You must take care of yourself, my dear fellow.”

  As Rufus made yet another carriage trip to Dandridge Hall, he could not shake thoughts of Henry Mercer from his mind. So many years. What did he mean by that? Surely, he had not realized at that moment how long he had worked for the Duchy. Or perhaps it was just an old man’s musing, a sudden nostalgic turn.

  But Rufus was sure that Henry was not a man in that vein; he was a practical soul and a very steady sort of a character. Still, if he would not say what was troubling him, Rufus could not imagine how he would find it out.

  Henry Mercer had never married, and Rufus realized, to his shame, that he did not know if the man had any extended family at all, nor even any friends and peers of his own. He certainly did not talk of such things, but Rufus realized that he should have, at some point, at least made that inquiry.

  But then he and Henry were in an unusual position. They were essentially master and servant, and yet Henry had been working at Hillington for so many years that was he not also a friend? Rufus sighed, knowing that he would not rest easy about the whole thing until he got to the bottom of it, however such a thing might be achieved.

  He was not shaken from his thoughts until his carriage drew up right outside Dandridge Hall. He had not even been aware of pulling onto the great long driveway, so lost in concentration was he.

  But now, he must put Henry to one side for the evening and struggle through yet another mighty meal with just about the worst company in all of England. All except for Ella, that was.

  As he jumped down from the carriage, Rufus smiled to himself. He knew that his feelings for Ella were growing day by day, if not hour by hour. His regard for her had almost crept up upon him in the same way that her beauty had. But now that it had, now that it had tapped him on the shoulder, he was beginning to find himself lost in thoughts of her almost continually.

  And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had only accepted the dinner invitation so that he might see her. Even just a surreptitious meeting of eyes would be enough for him. He knew that he would not speak much to her, for he now knew how much Ella feared it. But he realized that to just be in her presence was enough, to look at her shining dark hair and her sparkling blue eyes, her beautiful face, and her fine figure, that was all he required.

  Ever since he had seen her again in the grounds of Dandridge, on the day she had excused herself from afternoon tea, he had thought more and more of her and less and less of his masked woman.

  In fact, he only ever thought of the masked woman now when he became aware of the little mask he still had tucked away in the inside pocket of his tailcoat.

  But he was not so sure now that he would want to draw that mysterious woman to him. After all, if she made herself known now, could he really abandon Ella in favour of her? He did not really know the masked woman, beyond that one exciting conversation, but he knew Ella now. Bit by bit, he had come to find her true character and know that she was a woman who was so very different from those who would trip over themselves, step over each other, to become his wife.

  As he walked towards the wide stone steps leading up to
Dandridge Hall, he wondered if Ella was what he had been looking for all along. She had not sought to trap him, to impress him with her wiles and hope to become the next Duchess. Quite the opposite, in fact.

  And every sad confidence she had parted with had almost to be pulled from her. She had never sought his assistance or his sympathy, always choosing to divert the conversation so that she might maintain her dignity.

  But was that simply because she did not view him as he viewed her? The more he found himself attracted to Ella Winfield, the more he wondered if she would ever feel the same. As far as he could see, she had certainly given no sign that she did.

  Rufus was brought back to the here and now when he saw the great door opening inward and the butler making ready to show him in. Knowing that he was about to see her again, his spirits lifted, and even the idea of far too much food and an evening spent listening to the braying tones of the Earl of Dandridge could do nothing to dampen those spirits.