Ruining the Duke

by Sophia Wilson

  “And why would that be?” Emma asked apprehensively as she folded the sheet edges under the bed.

  “You appear interesting to me.”

  Emma scoffed and shook her head. “I appreciate the gesture, however farfetched it may be, but I am certain Lady Sarah would not be too thrilled about it.”

  “Never in my life have I allowed my sister to affect the things I do, and I am not about to change that,” the duke pointed out with confidence.

  “Is Lady Sarah aware of this?” Emma asked.

  The duke chuckled and glanced at Emma for a moment longer than was necessary.

  “Lady Laura is lovely,” Emma said, changing the subject instantly. “She must be delighted to be betrothed to Your Grace.”

  “Betrothal arrangements are complicated things, Emma. Most people have the tendency to think that love reigns, but it is not always the case.”

  “Most marriages are based on financial survival, or to create a legacy, not for love,” Emma said, and straightened up. “I am aware of how society works, Your Grace. I have seen many marriages based on everything but love. I cannot imagine what kind of life that would be, being married to another person, sharing everything including your bed, with someone whom you do not love, or who does not love you in return. It seems rather …”

  “Unfortunate?”

  “Perhaps, but the word I would use is unnatural,” Emma answered and stepped around the bed, collecting the old sheets from the ottoman which stood at the foot of the bed.

  “It seems you are a believer in love,” the duke stated.

  “I would care to think it does exist. It may be rare, and not convenient at times, but it still exists,” Emma answered.

  “Did your mother love your father?” the duke asked.

  Emma’s face grew pale and she lowered her gaze. She had not spoken of her mother and father to anyone at the estate, but now she was faced with the most important question she had no answer for.

  “I do not know.”

  “How can you not know?” the duke asked, bemused.

  Her gaze met his brown eyes and she answered, “My mother passed away during my birth. I never knew her, and I will never know if she loved my father, or how my father loved her.”

  The duke’s expression changed to sorrow and his shoulders slumped slightly. “My sincerest apologies, Emma.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “And your father, is he still alive?”

  Emma glanced at him and tears filled her eyes. “I must go.”

  Her simple words cut through the duke’s heart with the blade of a sharp sword and he watched her hurry out of Lady Sarah’s bedchamber, clutching a bundle of sheets against her chest.

  The duke realized that he had asked the wrong set of questions at the wrong time. Clearly she was not ready to speak to him, or anyone, regarding her parents, and was still hurt by the events which involved them, and her.

  The duke ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance, mostly towards himself, and quietly left the bedchamber.

  ***

  Emma lay on her narrow bed in the servants quarters, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clutched her woolen blanket against her chest. She had spent the entire evening sobbing into her blanket, wishing she did not feel the pain and emptiness inside her heart. The other maidservants were already asleep, and the quiet awakened a new kind of loneliness inside her.

  She wiped her tears and sat upright on her bed, her golden hair tumbling down her shoulders. She raked her fingers through her tresses, and braided it slowly. After securing it with a narrow ribbon, Emma stood from her bed and left the servants’ quarters.

  The hallways of Collier Manor were dark, but Emma knew them well, and would not get lost. She had roamed the hallways enough times to know her way through the maze of hallways and doors. She had often spent quiet nights in the great hall, simply staring out the windows, thinking of a life she had wished she had been born into instead of the one she lived every day.

  When the duke had asked her about her mother and father, it had struck a chord inside her, and she knew the duke would demand an explanation. Or perhaps he was intelligent enough to realize that she did not wish to speak of them at all.

  Without her realizing it, she found herself in the great hall, but standing in the very place she had stood many nights was a dark figure.

  Although she could only see the silhouette, she knew it was the duke, and she did not wish to disturb him. She did not wish for him to catch her outside her quarters at this late hour, but she could not help but wonder what he was thinking of at that very moment. She took a step forward, but accidentally knocked her foot against the large wooden frame, and the figure turned around.

  Her attempt to hide in the shadows had failed miserably, as the duke crossed the great hall and called out, “Who goes there?”

  Emma inhaled deeply and stepped forward. “My apologies, Your Grace. I could not sleep and took a stroll around the hallways.”

  “No need to apologize,” the duke said quietly and stepped into the beam of moonlight.

  The light cast a shadow onto his face, accentuating his features, and Emma’s heart pounded in her chest. He was even more handsome at that moment and Emma was tongue-tied.

  “I could not sleep either,” the duke said.

  “Do you also roam the hallways when you cannot sleep, Your Grace?” Emma asked.

  “Most nights I stay in my chambers, or spend the night reading in my study, but this night …” the duke said, and paused for a moment. “In all honesty, I hoped that I would find you here.”

  “Find me? Why, Your Grace?” Emma glanced at him with a furrowed brow.

  “I wished to see if you were all right, after our conversation earlier,” the duke answered, concern filling his warm brown eyes.

  “And why would it matter to you, Your Grace?”

  “Despite your impressions of me, I am not a mean-spirited man.”

  Emma glanced at him wordlessly and he smiled.

  “Would you care to take a stroll with me in the private garden?” the duke asked.

  “Staff are not allowed in Your Grace’s private garden,” Emma pointed out.

  “Perhaps I can make an exception this evening,” the duke retorted gallantly.

  “Am I worth the exception?” Emma asked and gazed up at him.

  “Absolutely,” the duke whispered.

  As the duke passed her by, Emma became flustered and overwhelmed by the close proximity of the duke, and shivers ran down her spine.

  Emma followed the duke as he led the way towards the side entrance of the manor house. Emma had not ever entered or exited through that door, as it was off-limits to staff, and was kept locked at all times. She felt a wave of excitement fill her as she stepped out into the warm June night, the moon high in the dark sky, a beacon to light their way, although she knew the duke knew the private gardens like the back of his hand.

  The duke opened the wrought iron gate which was covered with ivy, and moved aside to allow Emma to step inside first.

  “How very gracious of Your Grace,” she whispered.

  “You are my special guest this evening. It is only fitting,” the duke answered as they stepped in through the gate and he closed it behind him.

  The private garden was even more lush and beautiful than the larger garden which almost completely surrounded the left wing of the manor, and Emma watched in awe as the moonlight bathed the white flowers in a magical glow.

  “Your Grace’s garden is beautiful,” Emma said after a time of silence between them. “You must come here often.”

  “Sadly, I do not visit nearly as much as I would want to,” the duke admitted. “I have been quite a fool of late, and the thought saddens me.”

  “What does Your Grace mean?” she asked as they continued to stroll along the pathway.

  “I have been preoccupied with the wrong things, and it has diverted my attention away from things which are important to me,” th
e duke admitted. “I have allowed others to influence my decisions and that is simply not the way in which I wish to live my life. My father taught me that every choice I make in my life is my responsibility, and that I have to live with the repercussions of those actions and decisions.”

  “He was a wise man, your father. I did not know him, of course, but I hear Kate speak great things of him,” Emma said.

  “Indeed. Kate was employed by my father for many years before he passed. She is correct in saying he was a wonderful man. I find it difficult to live up to the expectations he left,” the duke sighed.

  “Your Grace, if I may be so bold as to comment?” Emma requested.

  “Of course. I am curious to hear your thoughts,” the duke answered.

  “Although your father was a great man, Your Grace should not feel intimidated by it. You are not your father; you are your own man. You decide your own fate. I am certain that he would not have wanted Your Grace to feel intimidated by his legacy. Your Grace must create your own,” Emma explained.

  The duke glanced silently at her for a moment, and Emma feared she had spoken her mind too freely, and that the duke did not appreciate that at all, although he allowed her to speak. Emma bit her bottom lip and lowered her gaze.

  “You are right. I should not be intimidated by his legacy at all. He was not a perfect man, but he was a perfect father. He taught me how to be humble, although I fear I may have failed on that front.”

  “Your Grace, we all fail at times. It is what makes us human. It does not make you any less noble or weak,” Emma assured him.

  “Thank you for your kind words, Emma. You seem to understand me very well. I do not find that often, or at all for that matter,” the duke answered.

  “If I may ask, how did your father pass?” Emma asked.

  “His heart. He woke one morning with an agonizing pain in his chest. He was short of breath and within minutes he collapsed on the floor of his bedchamber, clutching his heart. He was already dead when I rushed into the room. My mother was sobbing over his body. It was strange to see my father, the tall, strong man I had looked up to my entire life, lifeless on the floor, pale as a sheet. It was a sight I will never forget,” the duke said and lowered his gaze. “I still miss his presence every day.”

  Emma pursed her lips together, fighting the tears forming in her eyes. The sadness in the duke’s eyes caused guilt to rise up inside her. The duke mourned the death of his father, while she had ignored her father for years, not even informing him of her whereabouts, pretending he did not even exist.

  “I have a confession to make,” Emma said quietly.

  “I highly doubt that, Emma. You do not seem the kind of person who would have anything to confess to,” the duke chuckled, attempting to replace his sorrow with amusement.

  “Your Grace does not know me well enough to make that kind of assumption, but thank you for being so kind,” Emma scoffed.

  “What is your confession, dear Emma?” the duke asked.

  “My father is not dead. My mother did pass while giving birth to me, and I was raised by my father. Or so people would think,” Emma explained and glanced at the duke. “I was actually raised by our neighbor, a kind and soft-spoken woman. My father was not home most days. He was a baker, and he had his own little bakery in the town we lived in. The townspeople adored his bread. After my third birthday, something changed in him, though, and he started to gamble. It became a problem. He lost a lot of money, but he could not stop. He also started to drink. He lost his bakery. We lost our home and …”

  A tear ran down Emma’s cheek and she pursed her lips. She did not wish to cry in front of the duke and she turned away.

  “Emma,” the duke whispered, and place his hand on her shoulder. “I am so sorry to hear that. It must have been a terrible time in your life. No one deserves that, especially not a child. A child should never suffer because of an incompetent parent’s reckless actions.”

  “He does not even know where I am. I simply left and hoped I would forget him. I haven’t spoken to him in years. I do not even know if he is still alive. But I left because I wanted something better. I wanted a better life for myself, and now I have it. Although I fear it may come to an end very soon.”

  “Why would you say that?” the duke asked.

  “Lady Sarah has been increasingly mean towards me. It is as if she is unsatisfied with something I did and I am not aware of what it was. I am terrified to ask her. I am terrified of making an error. I cannot bear to think that I have done something to displease her, but I should not be surprised,” she muttered.

  “And why is that?”

  “I am not oblivious to the ways of the world, Your Grace. Nobles and servants cannot be friends. Classes as different as mine and Lady Sarah’s cannot mix. We are from different worlds, and those two worlds can never merge, or coexist. I am merely a servant to her, and to you, and that is all I will ever be. But it is my own fault for ever thinking that I would be welcome in this world of hers,” Emma answered and glanced up at the duke, “or yours.”

  “Emma,” the duke whispered and brought his hand up to her face, lightly stroking her cheek. “You should not feel that way.”

  “And why is that?” she whispered in return.

  “You are a beautiful young woman, and I have spent many nights wishing I could touch your face, or be alone with you. I purposely visit my sister’s bedchamber because I know you will be there. I stood in the great hall this evening, hoping you would arrive. There is something about you which attracts me, allures me. I have tried to deny it, I tried to distract myself with Lady Laura and the betrothal, but it was futile. You were the only woman my thoughts returned to.”

  “Your Grace cannot say words like that. It is not right,” Emma whispered. “I am a simple maid.”

  “You are much more than that, Emma, and you know it,” the duke whispered, still stroking her cheek tenderly. “I cannot stop dreaming of your lips and your eyes and the golden glimmer of your hair in the sunlight. The dimples in your cheeks, the sweet smell of wildflowers which you keep in your apron.”

  “Your Grace knows of the flowers?” she whispered.

  “I watch you during the day, and I cannot tear my eyes away from you. It may sound unsettling, but I assure you it is not. I am not a threat to you, nor do I wish to harm you. I simply cannot seem to stop thinking of you,” the duke said. “I am overwhelmed by you, by your beauty, and I have been since the very first day you started here at the estate.”

  “You never told me this before.”

  “I was afraid to. I was uncertain what my mother or my sister would think of my adoration for you,” the duke explained. “As you are aware, my sister and my mother observe the succession observed in the peerage to a fault, and believe classes are there for a reason. They would not understand the feelings I feel when I am in your presence.”

  Emma was rather speechless, although this was precisely what her heart desired. She had longed for this moment ever since she saw the duke for the very first time, but somehow, she was terrified of this new reality. The duke gazed at her intently, his hands reaching for her narrow waist. Her heart pounded in her chest as he leaned in closer to her and as his lips were about to meet hers, she moved away abruptly.

  “I cannot do this, Your Grace. I am so sorry.”

  “Emma, can I—”

  “It is not that I do not feel the same as you do, but I do not wish to complicate your life. I am a maid with no title and no money who has a drunkard for a father. I have nothing, and I cannot give you what you desire. You deserve much better than me,” Emma exclaimed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “There is no one better, Emma.”

  “That is a lie. I cannot offer you anything, Your Grace. I am truly sorry if I embarrassed you, or caused you any upset,” Emma said as she wiped her cheeks and rushed back in the direction they’d come from.

  ***

  “Emma!”

  Lady Sarah’s voice echoed t
hrough the halls, and Emma shuddered as she rushed out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. It was earlier than usual, and Emma had not expected Lady Sarah to be awake at this early hour.

  As the angry Lady Sarah came into view, Emma froze on the spot. The moment she had feared had arrived. Lady Sarah was going to send her on her way.

  “Emma, come here!” Lady Sarah ordered, and Emma nodded wordlessly, obediently following Lady Sarah into the parlor and awaiting the scolding.

  “How dare you think that you can force yourself into this family when you are merely a simple maidservant?” Lady Sarah exclaimed.

  “I beg your pardon, my lady?” Emma asked.

  “How dare you stand there and pretend to be innocent?” Lady Sarah pointed her finger at Emma. “I saw you and my brother in the garden, you Haymarket ware!”

  Emma gasped at the derogatory term and shook her head. “My lady, it is not what you think—”

  “I do not care what you have to say. I only wish for you to pack your things and leave Collier Manor. I never wish to see you ever again, and if you even attempt to contact my brother, I will make you disappear without a trace,” Lady Sarah threatened.

  Emma nodded with a tight chest and she turned on her heel, rushing to her quarters with a shattered heart.

  Chapter Five

  June 1814

  Collier Manor

  Bathampton

  Kent, England

  The duke passed the portraits in the long hallway which led to Lady Sarah’s bedchamber, reciting the words he had perfected the entire morning. Words he wished to bestow upon Emma, hoping they would sway her. Those words had kept him awake the entire night, yet he did not feel fatigued. In fact, thinking of Emma had invigorated him and he could not wait to see her reaction when he told her that he loved her, and it did not matter to him if she was simply a maid, as she had referred to herself. She was much more to him. She was an extraordinary young woman who held his heart, and he wanted no other.

  The duke had even composed a letter of apology to Lady Laura and her family, as he could not marry her having feelings for another woman. He could not betray Lady Laura in such a way, and the duke felt that Lady Laura would appreciate his honesty. She was not an unreasonable woman. The duke had the letter sent to Cheltenham as speedily as possible.