The Duke's Heartbreaking Secret: Historical Regency Romance

by Kate Carteret

  “Is it at all possible that Lord Newfield attended the garden party before? The other garden party, ten years ago? Lord Morton’s garden party?” Anabelle said gently.

  “It is so long ago, and I did not know him. He has never been an acquaintance of mine and is only lately in my world. The truth this, it is entirely possible that he was there all those years ago. But are you saying what I think you are saying? Whatever it is that occurs to you, Miss Brock, you must say.”

  “When Lucy was here with me on the floor weeping, terrified, she said something which made my blood run cold.”

  “What?”

  “She said he has come to drown me.” Anabelle said and shuddered visibly.

  “And does she remember it? Does my sister remember seeing her poor twin drowned? Murdered by that awful man?” His hazel eyes were glassy, and Anabelle knew that he was fighting tears of shock and pain.

  “She could not say anything else, Your Grace. I do not know if she even remembers it now or if it is simply one of those incomplete flashes of memory that still eludes her.”

  “We cannot disturb her now.”

  “No, Your Grace. I think she must rest and heal a little before we do anything else.”

  “If he has done this thing, this dreadful act, and I know it to be true, I will kill him.” The Duke said in such a dangerous voice that Anabelle’s heart began to thump. “I will make him face what he has done, and I will kill him for it.”

  “No, you must not.” Anabelle said, knowing that she risked his anger in that moment. “I beg you, you must not.” She said and got up from her chair to kneel in front of him. “It will not matter that you are a Duke, you will hang. And then Lucy will have lost everybody in her life whom she loves. Whatever hatred you have in your heart, you have to let it go. Justice can be done without you sacrificing yourself.” Tears began to roll down her face.

  She knew that she was almost asking the impossible of him. What man in the world, certainly one as fine as the Duke of Westward, would not be angry beyond all reason to discover that an innocent child, his own sister, had been so cruelly murdered by someone he now knew?

  Anabelle buried her face in her hands and tried to stem the flow of her tears as the Duke remained silent. There was nothing else that she could say to him, no other plea that she could make.

  In the moment when she realised that there was nothing she could do, she felt his hand on top of her head. He just rested it gently, staying still for a moment. And then he began to gently stroke her hair, to soothe her, and a mixture of exhaustion and the greatest sadness caused her to simply lean forward and lay her head on his knee.

  He did not move, except to continue to stroke her hair soothingly. She stayed there for so long that her tears had slowly dried on her skin and her face felt cracked and itchy. When she finally looked up it was to find the Duke looking down at her, his hazel eyes beautiful and his countenance calm.

  “I do not know how I would manage without you, Anabelle.” He said, and she believed that he was thanking her for being there, for calming his own murderous mood. She could not answer him for fear that she would cry again.

  “If you had not been here, I would already be on my way to his house.”

  “And I am glad that I am here. Because the truth is, Your Grace, we do not yet know that Lord Newfield did so dreadful a thing. We still have to have it from Lucy, otherwise it is just the two of us telling stories. We are surmising, however much our summation fits; or seems to fit.”

  “You are right.” He said and sighed. “Lucy is the one who needs our help now. Jenny is beyond my efforts, whatever I do.”

  “Lucy needs to remember, or she will never break out of her own mind.” Anabelle said. “I am sure of it.”

  “And so am I.” He said thoughtfully. “As soon as she is a little recovered, we must push her, I fear. Gently, but still we must help her to remember. She must be so close to it.”

  “I will stay with her tonight.” Anabelle said.

  “I will stay. You are exhausted, and you need to rest. You need to sleep. If I need you, I will come to you.” He said and rose to his feet, reaching down to take her hand.

  He had her standing in a heartbeat and they stood unmoving for a moment, so close that there was barely an inch between their bodies as they looked into each other’s eyes.

  Such closeness was wonderful and breathtaking, even in amongst such angst and uncertainty. Anabelle could feel the warmth of his skin without touching him and it felt so right and real that she could hardly stand it.

  Finally, the Duke took her arm and led her out of Lucy’s chambers, escorting her all the way to the door of her own.

  “Sleep well, Anabelle.” He said and gently grazed a warm hand against her cheek before turning to head back to his sister’s chamber.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Giles, my dear brother, I cannot bear your pain.” Lucy said, and it was the first full sentence she had spoken since the day before.

  Her voice was so quiet that all present had to strain to hear her and her face was so pale that she looked truly unwell. But Anabelle felt a tiny vein of relief that Lucy was able to speak at all.

  She had not, it appeared, disappeared as fully as she had done before. She was sentient, she was able to speak properly, she was able to recognise her brother and beg him to be well so that she might.

  “Lucy, all I want in the world is for you to be well again. I will do anything to see that happen.” He said quietly.

  “I know that, Giles.” Lucy said and gave him such a beautiful smile. “But I cannot mend if you cannot mend. It is too hard, it takes too much energy.”

  “Then I will be well, Lucy.”

  “You would both be well if you would eat something.” Mrs Arklow said in a voice that was all business.

  Anabelle smiled to herself; Mrs Arklow always knew just the right moment to strike.

  “There, now we are both in trouble.” Giles said and as he smiled down at Lucy, Anabelle was certain that she saw a little of his pain evaporate.

  Perhaps he saw as she did, that his sister was not as lost as she had once been. She was not yet found, not entirely, but her terrible shock of the day before had not finished her.

  “I think I could manage something, Mrs Arklow.” Lucy said, still in her nightgown with a heavy shawl about her shoulders.

  “Good, then settle down at the table whilst it is still hot.” The housekeeper ordered and took Lucy’s arm, gently pulling her away from her brother and sitting her down. “There is plenty here.” She said, turning her attention to both the Duke and Anabelle.

  Without a word, they sat obediently down at the table and Mrs Arklow poured them all a cup of tea. Anabelle helped by setting out plates in front of everybody and cutlery, knowing that she could not simply sit there and have Mrs Arklow wait upon her.

  In no time at all, everybody had full plate and they set about eating.

  “If all eyes are upon me, I shall not be able to eat a thing.” Lucy said in a gently warning tone.

  “You must forgive us, Lucy.” Anabelle said and laughed. “We should not worry you with our worry.”

  “Exactly that.” Lucy said with determined firmness.

  As they ate, Mrs Arklow took everybody’s attention away from what was to come with one or two stories from below stairs. Every story was amusing as every story was designed to be.

  Mrs Arklow was doing the job of a mother, overseeing the hearts of the three young people at the table and quietly deciding that it was time for a little break from everything they were suffering. She held court and Anabelle was certain that the very atmosphere in Lucy’s chamber had lifted on account of it.

  Even though none of them knew what would come of the day, Mrs Arklow had expertly injected a little optimism. Anabelle quietly hoped it would be enough to see them through.

  She could not think of Mrs Arklow’s face when she and the Duke had given her every detail so early that morning. Lucy was still as
leep, and they knew that Mrs Arklow must surely be fretting downstairs as she waited for news. Anabelle had slept well and risen early, hastily washing and dressing and returning to Lucy’s chamber so that the Duke might take a little rest.

  But he had not gone, he had stayed with her. He had rung the bell for Mrs Arklow and between them they had told her everything they had learned and everything they had guessed at. At the idea that young Jenny had been murdered, Mrs Arklow had almost given in to tears. They had shone brightly in her eyes and she had stared glassily ahead, refusing to blink lest she dislodge one of them.

  And now here she was, suffering her own shock and heartbreak and yet still having enough room in her heart for the two she had seen for so long as her own children. And the newcomer, Anabelle, whom she had quickly welcomed and come to love as one of her own.

  Anabelle experienced that warm and wonderful feeling of a curious little family, just as she had done so many weeks before when she and the Duke had run to Lucy’s room to comfort her between them.

  She felt as if she were a part of something again; she had a sense of belonging right where she was in that moment.

  In the end, Lucy ate a hearty breakfast as she had seemed quite determined to do. A little color returned to her cheeks, although the skin around her eyes was still dark and the sockets rather sunken.

  “Lucy, when breakfast is done, there are some things we need to do.” The Duke was the first to raise the subject.

  “I know.” Lucy said simply.

  “It might be difficult for you.”

  “Yes, I think it shall.” She said and nodded.

  Lucy looked down at the table as if she didn’t want to discuss it any further. Perhaps she just wanted to get on with it, to have it over with as soon as possible.

  When breakfast had been cleared away and the Duke had revived himself fully with a wash and change of clothes, the party of four reconvened in Lucy’s chamber.

  There was no question of Mrs Arklow leaving; the Duke had declared that Lucy would need her and that they would all stay throughout.

  Mrs Arklow took a seat at the writing table and Lucy and Anabelle each sat in an armchair by the fire.

  The Duke, looking fresh and ready for whatever was to come knelt in front of Lucy, just as Anabelle had knelt in front of him the night before.

  “You want me to remember.” Lucy said in a tremulous voice.

  “I think you must, Lucy. I think it is the only way to free you from all of this.”

  “From the frightening man.” Lucy said slowly. “But he is real, I have seen him. How can I be free of him if he is real?”

  “It is the confusion I would free you from, Lucy. Once you remember what happened, the man will be out of your mind, I am sure of it. And even though he lives, I would never allow him to hurt you.”

  “So, he does want to hurt me?” Lucy said, and Anabelle could see her beginning to struggle.

  “We do not yet know.” The Duke took her hands in his.

  “Until I remember?” Lucy’s large hazel eyes looked like those of a child and Anabelle hardly dared to breathe.

  “Yes.” He said apologetically.

  “But I am afraid, Giles. I am so afraid.”

  “All I want in the world is to help you, Lucy.” He began in a voice thick with emotion. “I want you back in the world with me for I have missed you until my heart is all but broken. I want to see you smile in the sunshine, to laugh, to be happy.” He paused for a painfully long time as if struggling hard. “Lucy, whatever you have to face, know that I shall be here by your side, holding your hand. I will never leave you. We shall face whatever it is together, and you will be set free.” Anabelle could see a single tear track a jagged course down the Duke’s face and could hardly hold onto her own emotions.

  Lucy reached out and wiped the tear away with her little fingers and smiled bravely at her brother.

  “I will try, Giles. I will try my hardest.”

  They had worked for more than an hour when Lucy finally gave a great exasperated sigh.

  “I have let you down.” She said miserably. “Nothing has changed. All I can remember is such bright sunshine as it hurt my eyes and the sound of water. I see the man’s face and then I see it change; grow old. But nothing else. Nothing more than I had known before. I just cannot find it.”

  “You’ve done well, Lucy. And you just forget any notions of letting anybody down, do you hear?” Mrs Arklow was full of loving bossiness once more.

  “Yes, Mrs Arklow.” Lucy said and relaxed a little.

  “There must be some other way of getting this thing to come to the fore.” Mrs Arklow said sensibly. “Some way of striking a match in the darkness, so to speak.”

  “Yes, but what?” Anabelle wracked her brain for anything that would help but came up short.

  “I think I have the answer.” The Duke said with a look of the deepest concern, almost as if he wished he had not even thought of it.

  “Your Grace?” Anabelle prompted gently when he fell silent.

  “I am due to attend Newfield Hall for afternoon tea the day after tomorrow.” He said, and the implication was clear.

  “Oh no!” Mrs Arklow said hastily. “No, there must be some other way.”

  “I cannot think of one.” He said and turned to Lucy. “I promised you that I would not leave your side and I shall not.”

  “It might be too much.” Anabelle said, remembering the deep shock Lucy suffered just from seeing Lord Newfield from afar.

  “I should think so.” Mrs Arklow could not hide her disquiet.

  “I wish there was another way. Perhaps we might even think of one before the engagement at Newfield.” The Duke went on hopefully.

  “I will do it.” Lucy said in a voice that was as steady as a rock and as clear as a bell. “I will do it.”

  “Lucy.” Mrs Arklow said, that one word full of so much meaning.

  “I have to do it. I cannot have such shadows in my mind any longer for it is exhausting. It is like pulling back a heavy curtain only to look behind it to find another heavy curtain. And then another, and another.” She said. “I cannot live like this.”

  “Then we shall do it.” The Duke said. “I shall be by your side and if you change your mind, we shall turn back.”

  “I will not change my mind.” Lucy said, and the room fell into contemplative silence.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  On the morning of the engagement at Newfield Hall, Anabelle could not sit still. She paced Lucy’s chamber back and forth, back and forth, whilst Lucy, seemingly calm, sat in an armchair and watched her.

  “Anabelle, you will wear out the rug.” Lucy said and laughed.

  “Forgive me, I wish I had little of your fortitude, my dear.” Anabelle forced herself to sit down in the armchair. “You are such a brave young woman.”

  “I am not brave, Anabelle, I am just tired.”

  “Are you quite sure about all this?”

  “I am sure. I only wish it was afternoon already so that we can have it over with.”

  “Yes, it feels as if every minute weighs heavy.” Anabelle said.

  “Perhaps you could read to me for a little while, Anabelle? Perhaps on this occasion it would do us both good.” Lucy said, and Anabelle gratefully reached for a book.

  By the time the party of three set off in the carriage for Newfield Hall, Anabelle realised that she was already tired, and that fatigue was bone deep. She hoped that this was the final obstacle, the last piece of the puzzle that would bring every dark secret out into the light at last and give much needed peace to a brother and sister who had already suffered more pain than they ever should have.

  They hardly spoke at all throughout their journey, except for the Duke to reassure his sister that he would put a stop to things at any point in the proceedings. She had only to say.

  Lucy simply nodded her understanding and Anabelle felt a sense of dread as she saw the color draining from the poor woman’s face with every mile
which passed.

  Anabelle felt further apprehension when she thought of Miss Newfield. She already despised Anabelle so thoroughly that their next meeting could not, she feared, possibly go well. And the fact that neither Lord Newfield nor his daughter were expecting any guest other than the Duke himself made her feel all the more awkward.

  But she knew, of course, that the Duke had set his plan very carefully and had explained that it would do their little mission no good to declare that Anabelle and Lucy would be joining him. Not only did he want to help Lucy remember, he also wanted to take Lord Newfield completely unawares.

  When the carriage finally drew to a halt at the front of Newfield Hall, Anabelle felt her mouth was already dry. She could hardly imagine how it was that Lucy felt for in the end, it was Lucy who had the lion’s share of the work to do.

  And yet she climbed out of the carriage with calm and poise, holding her brother’s hand and smiling up at him.

  “I can do it, Giles. I shall manage.” She said in a whisper.

  As the three of them approached the front of the house, they were greeted by a rather confused -looking butler.

  “Your Grace.” The butler said and bowed deeply before turning to look inquisitively at the two women at his elbow.

  “My dear fellow, I am joined today by my sister, Lady Lucy, and her companion, Miss Brock.” The Duke explained quickly so that the poor man might have the correct names to announce when he reached his master’s drawing room.

  “If you will follow me.” The butler said with a dreadful look of uncertainty.

  They passed through an entrance hall which, whilst large and richly decorated, did not match the entrance hall at Westward in any way. There were portraits hanging on every wall and Anabelle honestly thought it all a little too grand a reception into what was really just a very large house.

  She cast a look at Lucy, but her head was down as if she was very carefully studying the floor as she made her way to the drawing room. Anabelle watched as the Duke gave Lucy’s hand the briefest squeeze before the butler announced them.