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

by Bridget Barton

  He would be kind to the dreadful man, even kind to his awful daughters. He would pretend not to see every slip, every moment in which either Patience or Georgiana would display their distinct lack of manners. He would be magnanimous, openhearted, and very careful not to put Ella at any risk.

  And then, when his meal was done, he would come to some conclusion. He would go home to Hillington and make a plan; he would come up with some scheme by which to win Ella Winfield’s heart and take her away from that awful place. He would find some way to let her know that he was falling in love with her.

  “Ah, Your Grace, do come in,” the Earl said, already waiting by the open drawing room door.

  Rufus smiled and shook his hand warmly, allowing himself to be ushered in so that he might once more witness the little piece of theatre that was Belville family life.

  When he saw Patience and Georgiana at their needlework, and the Countess pretending to read, he almost laughed. But this time he was not so scornful, quietly thinking of Henry’s words and wondering if it really was quite so intimidating to have the attention of the Duke. Just like Henry, he would be kinder.

  “Good evening, Lady Dandridge,” Rufus said and bowed deeply. “I must thank you again for being so kind as to invite me into your wonderful home.”

  “Good evening, Your Grace.” Ariadne rose to her feet and inclined her head graciously. “And you are very welcome.”

  “Lady Patience, what is that you are sewing, my dear?” Rufus said and did a very good job of looking interested.

  “It is just a little cross stitch, Your Grace, something to be hung up somewhere in our home.” Patience looked up at him so demurely that he could hardly believe it was the same young lady.

  He could sense Georgiana twisting a little in her seat, hoping to gain his attention and see to it that Patience got no more of it.

  “And you are doing the same, Lady Georgiana?” he said and gave her the warmest smile he could manage.

  “Yes, Your Grace. Tell me, what do you think of it?” As always, Georgiana’s manners were more lacking and her behaviour just a little more forceful than her sister’s.

  “I think you are both very skillful young ladies, and I am sure that your father will be pleased to have both pieces hanging anywhere in Dandridge Hall, will you not, Dandridge?” he said and turned to their father who looked as satisfied as a cat with a saucer of cream.

  Rufus smiled in a way which made his face ache, and he let his eyes move this way and that around the drawing room for any sign of Ella. The moment he realized that she was not there, the spirits which had been so high immediately began to dwindle. He knew he could not ask there and then where Ella was, for he did not want to appear too obvious.

  He had promised that he would do nothing to put her in peril, and he would keep to that promise no matter what. And so, instead, he nursed the small hope that she would miraculously appear in time for dinner. After all, as much as the family disallowed her the dinner table at all other times, they had not been so bold as to do so the last time Rufus had been invited to eat with them.

  He tried very hard to make polite conversation as he suffered his way through two glasses of sherry in the drawing room before dinner was served. When the door opened, Rufus had turned and smiled brightly, fully expecting it to be Ella herself.

  But it had been none other than the butler come to tell them that dinner was served and to usher them gently towards the dining room.

  As they took their places around the great table, Rufus could immediately see that there was not a place set for Ella. There were just place settings enough for the five of them, and he knew he could stay quiet no longer.

  “Is Miss Winfield not to join us for dinner today?” Rufus kept his tone light and mildly inquisitive as if his question was nothing more than an innocent inquiry.

  “Forgive me, I had not mentioned,” the Earl said in a matter-of-fact tone that Rufus was not entirely convinced by. “Miss Winfield is away from home at the moment, Your Grace.”

  “Oh, indeed?” Rufus was struggling to maintain his polite and unconcerned demeanour.

  “Yes, she is visiting relatives in the North.”

  “I see, where?” Rufus said and then hurriedly sought to cover his curiosity. “I have distant relations there myself and am very fond of the North.”

  “Scotland,” the Earl said with a tight smile. “Only just over the border, but in Scotland nonetheless.”

  “Lady Belville, I had no idea you had Scottish relations.” Rufus smiled at her, despite his own great disappointment.

  Ella had never mentioned Scottish relations, and he wondered just how long she might be there. Perhaps Ronald Belville had finally banished her, turned her out of his house, and sent her away forever.

  “They are her father’s distant relations, Your Grace,” Ariadne said and smiled before turning her attention to the great platters that the servants were beginning to ferry into the room.

  “I see.” Rufus knew that he must change the subject, but he wanted to know exactly where Ella was.

  Wherever she was in the world, he wanted to know. He wanted to be able to find her if the Earl never allowed her back again.

  He could feel his anger rising and knew that Ella would not have chosen to go so far away. The Earl was at the very root of this, and he knew it. And the Countess was no better, allowing her dreadful husband to send her only child hundreds of miles away.

  “Well, I must say that the food truly does look wonderful once again. I must congratulate you, Lady Dandridge.” Rufus forced himself to smile when all he really wanted to do was overturn the dining room table and beat the truth out of Ronald Belville with his bare hands.

  Chapter 27

  It had been almost a week since Violet had last set eyes on her mistress, and she had felt sick every single day.

  When the Earl had unconvincingly announced to the servants that Miss Winfield had gone to visit relatives in the North, Violet had been silently relieved. She had assumed that the Earl was covering for the fact that Ella had fled Dandridge Hall and neither he nor her mother knew where she was. That was just like rich folk, making up some story to hide their embarrassment.

  Violet patiently waited to hear word from Ella, knowing that she would get a message to her as soon as she could, just as she had promised. But as each day passed, and that message never came, Violet began to fear the worst.

  What if Ella had never made it out of that house at all? What if she had not escaped in time after Violet had fled the morning room? What if the Earl had done something dreadful?

  There was no doubt in her mind now that the Earl knew everything or almost everything. If he had caught Ella before she had made her escape, could he really have decided to send her to Scotland? To banish her from the family home forevermore?

  If Ella had been sent to Scotland, might that not explain why Violet had not yet heard from her? After all, she was likely still travelling if she actually was on her way there. But who was she travelling with? Surely even the Earl of Dandridge would not send a young woman off on her own to travel post-chaise all the way to the border and beyond?

  Violet could not settle, having more questions than she had answers for. She had talked it through repeatedly with William, whenever the two of them had a chance for a few moments’ private conversation.

  They had to be careful, so very careful not to be overheard in talking about their master or any member of his household. While she did not mistrust any member of the staff, she knew that they were all afraid of the Earl, and that there was not one among them who would ask any questions for Ella Winfield’s sake.

  As much as she wanted to find out if any servant had even seen her mistress leave, Violet knew that she could not risk it. If she asked a question and were found out for it, she would certainly be turned out of Dandridge Hall without a reference to her name, and she would be lost in the world, just as Ella had said she would be.

  And why had Ella said she woul
d be so lost? Because she told Violet that she had no family. If she had no family at all, then surely the idea that she had gone to Scotland to visit them would be ridiculous.

  As each revelation made itself known to Violet, the more afraid she became that something dreadful had happened to Ella. She began to think that the poor woman had never made it out of the house at all, either to run for herself or to be sent away by her stepfather.

  She tried to hold onto the hope that Ella had made it, that she was even now at the home of Lady Brightwell as Violet had suggested. But she knew, she knew in her heart, that Ella would not leave her wondering. She would have found a way to get a message to her, that was certain.

  More than once, Violet had popped her head into the morning room, almost as if she expected to see Ella sitting there as she always was in the daytime. But each time, she was disappointed.

  On one such morning when she had sadly stood alone in the morning room, giving herself peace and quiet in which to think for just a few minutes, Violet heard the sound of gentle footsteps outside the room.

  She held her breath, wondering if somebody was about to come into the morning room and find her there. She had nothing but a duster in her pocket, and so she raced to the fireplace to make a charade of cleaning the mantle.

  When nobody came into the room, she crept silently back to the door and quietly pulled it open.

  Violet peered out and strained to listen. Hearing nothing, she crept out into the great hallway and was about to head back below stairs when something caught her eye.

  Disappearing around the corner at the top of the stairs was the Countess. It was clearly her, and Violet felt sure that it must have been her own quiet footsteps that she had heard outside the morning room door. And what was more, the Countess looked as if she were carrying a tray.

  But surely if she wanted something sent to her room, she would not be carrying it herself. Ariadne Belville was certainly not a woman who would even think of seeing to herself, not for a moment. She had been all demands and self-indulgence from the moment she had arrived at Dandridge Hall, every bit the spoiled Countess before she even had her feet under the dining room table.

  Violet stopped herself from disappearing into any more hateful thoughts about the woman she had come to despise in the last weeks. Instead, she nurtured her suspicion and determined, in an instant, to follow the Countess as quietly as she could.

  Keeping her duster out in her hand as a means of explaining her presence should she be caught anywhere she ought not to be, Violet hastened noiselessly upstairs, pausing at the top to see if there was any sign of the Countess.

  Ariadne Belville was at the far end of the corridor, just disappearing into the east wing when Violet saw her.

  Taking a deep breath, Violet quickly looked around before hastening on tiptoes, almost running, to follow her.

  When she came to the foot of an old staircase, she realized that it was the eastern access to the attic rooms. She had never been up there herself, but she knew that the stairs could lead nowhere else.

  Violet knew that she could not continue, being bound to come face-to-face with the Countess if she did.

  Instead, she would have to bide her time. She would return later when it seemed safe.

  When Violet heard the sound of a door closing and a key turning in a lock from far above her, she knew she could not waste another second. She turned on her heel and ran down the corridor as quietly as she could, peering around the wall at the top of the staircase and, seeing her way clear, hurtling down and hurrying back below stairs.

  It was almost three hours before she had an opportunity to speak to William alone and, by the time she did, Violet had had more than enough time to think about things.

  “What do you mean you think Miss Winfield is in the attic?” William whispered incredulously as the two of them pretended to tidy the boot room.

  “I followed the Countess up there today. She was carrying a tray, William, and I am sure it must have carried food. I know that Miss Winfield cannot have left this house, because if she had escaped, I believe she would have got word to me by now. I am sure that she is being kept prisoner here. Did you really believe the tale of Scottish relatives?”

  “Of course not, Violet,” William said and shook his head. “I didn’t believe it for a minute; you know I didn’t. For one thing, there is not a carriage or cart missing from the stables. And I know the stable hands have worked that one out for themselves; you can see in their faces. They will not say anything; nobody will say anything.”

  “I am so worried about her, William.”

  “And so am I. Miss Winfield is the only person at Dandridge Hall who has ever shown any of us any kindness. I would do anything to help her, Violet. More importantly, I would do anything to help you.”

  “I know you would, William. You have proved yourself time and time again already,” Violet said and popped her head out of the door to be sure that they were not being overheard.

  “But what are you to do now? What can be done?” William went on.

  “I think I need to go to the Duke.”

  “To the Duke of Hillington?” William said, and his eyes were wide with a mixture of concern and admiration. “But will you not struggle to even get past the door? I cannot think that any member of his household staff would allow you entrance.”

  “Perhaps you are right, but I must speak to him.”

  “What about that bridge afternoon? Tomorrow is Thursday, isn’t it? We must find some way to get you back to Lady Brightwell’s home. The butler might recognize you and at least tell his mistress that you are there.”

  “I cannot imagine that the Duke would be there, especially if he has already been told that Miss Winfield is away from home. I am sure that he only goes there now so that he might see her.”

  “Do you think he loves her?” William said in a strangely innocent way.

  “I think he would be a fool not to,” Violet said with some vehemence, making William smile. “But even if he does not love her yet, I am sure that he holds her in high regard. He has been so kind to her after all, hasn’t he?”

  “But if he is not there …?” William said and shrugged.

  “If he is not there, I can try to speak to Lady Brightwell. I will tell her everything I know and beg her to speak to the Duke, to see if he will help.”

  “But do you think that she’ll believe you?”

  “Perhaps not. But what if I had some proof?”

  “Proof of what?”

  “Proof that the Duke has been deceived all along. What if I found something in His Lordship’s study?”

  “But what? What can there possibly be to find?” William said and looked entirely confused. “I think you would be putting yourself at great risk for nothing. I think you would do better to just make your way to Lady Brightwell and hope for the best.”

  “But there might be something to be found,” Violet said, her little eyes twinkling.

  “Tell me,” William hissed and took his turn to look out of the door of the boot room to make sure that they were alone.

  “When Miss Winfield overheard His Lordship and Henry Mercer discussing their plan to stop the Duke from making his way to Mortcombe Hall, Henry Mercer said that he would get a message to the Earl regarding the time and intended route that the Duke would take that night.”

  “And you think he would have written the message?”

  “I do. After all, he could hardly have sent that message by word-of-mouth, could he?”

  “I suppose not. He would have risked discovery if gossip like that had got out.”

  “And so, he must have sent a handwritten note. What if it is still there somewhere in His Lordship’s study? If I had that, I would have some proof.”

  “If his Lordship did not immediately toss it on the fire, that is.”

  “The fire is so rarely lit in the study, William. The Earl is too lazy a man to spend much time at paperwork, after all.”

  “I agree
, Violet, but you must be careful what you say.” William peered out of the door again. “You really must.”

  “Yes, you are right, and I will be careful.”

  “So, you mean to go through with it? You mean to search our master’s study for evidence?”

  “I do because there is nothing else for it.” Violet smiled at him and reached up to place a hand on his cheek. “Don’t look so worried, William; I promise I’ll be careful.”

  “You surely don’t think I’m going to let you go alone, do you?”

  “William, we need not both be caught out in that room,” Violet said with great determination.

  “No, but I shall act as your lookout whilst you search. We should do this together, Violet.”