Historical Hearts Romance Collection

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Historical Hearts Romance Collection Page 13

by Sophia Wilson


  Ian considered his idea for a moment, “No. It is too risky,” he said after a moment of contemplation.

  “Risky?” Bennett said, seeming irate that he had so casually shrugged off his idea, “Well then do you have any better suggestions?”

  “I do actually,” Ian replied. “How about we come up with a scheme where Oswald is forced to sell us the estate himself? This way, there is no risk of getting caught and you losing your ties with your family. We need to come up with a way that will convince him to sell us the estate at a market value of next to nothing – it will be the perfect crime and they will never be any the wiser.”

  Bennett paused – perhaps in his mind he was contemplating whether he should betray his own family like that for money but then whatever small sense of guilt he had flitted away suddenly as he thought of all the profit they would generate once the land was in their hands. A smirk suddenly fell on his lips and he shot Ian a sinister look.

  “Actually, Ian, I think I might just have the perfect idea for us to execute this perfectly without getting caught,” he said, the smirk still sitting on his feature’s refusing to budge.

  “Oh yes?”

  “Ian, we are going to be very rich, very soon.”

  Chapter 3

  The wedding was as grand of an affair as you would expect from the likes of the Duke and his cronies. Elizabeth nudged Antonia excitedly as the arrangements included at least ten different types of flowers and the guest list was massive - nearly half the town was invited.

  It was perhaps everything Antonia had desired out of a wedding ceremony – dreaming as a little girl in her room of her fairytale big day – but that was where the similarities ended.

  Upon having that first meeting with the Duke, Antonia’s perceptions of him had been shattered and she no longer had the same raging desire to marry him – if anything, she wanted quite the contrary.

  But that did not change anything as she knew she was already in too deep – her refusal would mean several problems for her parents and she did not want to be responsible for causing that for them. In times like that, it was said that hope was your best friend and no one knew the meaning of that phrase better than Antonia. A small flame of hope flickered in her heart as she thought maybe her first meeting with the Duke had gone awry – perhaps he was having a bad day – and this was not his real form.

  And with hope, she walked the aisle, donned in white as the spectators gazed on, their eyes glued to her every movement. The rest of the evening whirred past – with the priest making them recite their vows and then her father giving her away to the Duke.

  And before she knew it, Antonia Arborn had become Duchess Antonia Fareweather.

  -----

  The first time the duo had an interaction as a now married couple, it took place in the mansion’s common room. The ceremony had just ended and the guests had left the couple alone for some privacy – and so really, this had been the first chance Antonia had gotten to properly speak to the Duke all afternoon and she did not intend on wasting it.

  “Your Grace,” she said as she heard him enter the room, though now looking a little inebriated, “I have been waiting for you.”

  The Duke passed her a glance that said that maybe he wanted to get noticed by her tonight and then there was another pause. “You should not have, Antonia. It is quite late into the night and you should sleep now.”

  Antonia, however, was persistent in her efforts to make this conversational exchange between them a successful one this time, “No, I quite disagree with you there. The night is only young. I was hoping we could have a chat instead!” she pushed on, now having gotten up from her place on the sofa and stood right in front of the Duke.

  The Duke let out a groan, “Well then you should speak for yourself then because I have had a very long day and I must retire to my chambers immediately,” he brushed her off and began walking up the stairs.

  But Antonia was far from giving up, “Very good!” she said, quickly following him in his trail on the stairs, “perhaps we can relax together and have a nice chat there. I like that idea far better,” she said, cheerfully walking beside the Duke.

  The Duke paused his motion suddenly, “I am afraid that little plan of yours will not be possible,” he told her and confusion clouded her features.

  “Are you implying you will fall asleep straight away without even acknowledging my presence, Your Grace?” Antonia questioned back, riddled by her husband’s vague manner of speaking.

  “No, I am telling you that we will not be sharing a room,” the Duke said as if it was as casual as commenting on the weather and then began his ascension up the stairs again, “I will have the maid show you your quarters, but for now, I must bid you adieu, it is very late and you should sleep as well.”

  But Antonia did not reply, she was too busy staring after him with her mouth hanging agape. “What do you mean, separate sleeping chambers? What a preposterous thing to suggest! After all, we are husband and wife.” Antonia could not control her outburst.

  “Preposterous you say?” the Duke stopped to look at her with an amused expression on his face, “Oh – you are far too naïve for your age. Please – let the maid show you your quarters. I have had enough of this exchange – I will see you in the morning, goodnight Duchess.”

  And with that, he stomped away to his own room without even stopping to hear a single word from Antonia.

  -----

  Most wedding ceremonies are preceded with a short lived period of pure marital bliss full of love and affection – however, Antonia was beginning to realize that that concept was a sham and so was her marriage. Even though they were legally abided to each other by law, that was where their commitment ended.

  Antonia felt like a stranger in her own house – her husband was cold and refused to have a conversation with her that consisted of more than a few phrases. The love she had always dreamt of seemed to not even exist.

  And even though she had all the wealth and luxury money could afford, she did not feel fulfilled. In fact, she felt lonelier than her days in the Lincolnshire Estate and that was saying something sad.

  This particular morning, Antonia sat on the breakfast table straightening out the wrinkles in her satin dress – clearly the best money could buy but what good did it do her if her own husband refused to acknowledge her in it?

  A few moments later, she was joined by the man himself, as he pulled out a napkin in front of him to begin eating.

  “Good morning, Your Grace,” she greeted him happily, as she did most mornings when they had breakfast together.

  He acknowledged her with a nod.

  “Did you sleep well last night?” she found herself asking, “The thunderstorm was making quite the noise outside.”

  “Of course, Duchess,” he said, “how about yourself?”

  Antonia suddenly felt a rush of excitement – she knew it was pathetic but she felt happy that he was at least asking about her well-being for once. She decided to take advantage of the situation as best she could.

  “I slept okay,” she said, “but I must say, the thunderstorm did not have any effect on my sleep whatsoever. However, I do believe I could have slept much better if you were not an entire room away.”

  The Duke looked up at her as she said the words and lightly shook his head at her, “Unfortunate. That is not really a possibility,” he dismissed her curtly almost at once.

  Antonia found herself sinking back into her chair. “I really do wish that it was one,” she continued, “I really do not enjoy sleeping alone.”

  “Well then that is too bad,” he said, “perhaps you can get one of the maid servants to sleep on the floor of your room if it bothers you that much.”

  Antonia looked offended, “I meant you. It is your absence that bothers me, not anybody else’s.” she exclaimed, frustrated at his stoic demeanor.

  “You should take up a hobby, Antonia,” the Duke replied sighing, “Surely, this level of obsession is not healthy for you.


  Antonia found herself turning a shade of deep red. Embarrassed, she suddenly excused herself from the table, claiming she had just lost her appetite. But her plate remained full – the Duke however, did not even spare her a second glance and resumed to his food, seeming almost glad that she had done so.

  Antonia rushed upstairs to her lavatory, splashing herself with some water on her face. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and a million different questions started to spring up at the sight.

  The Duke had just blatantly dismissed her by calling her obsessed! She felt the embarrassment and rejection rise up inside of her – why was he like this? Was there something that she lacked?

  As she splashed herself with water again and again, she found herself asking the same question over and over. And before she could even help it, the wetness of the water had been replaced with a different kind of wetness – Antonia was crying.

  -----

  Loneliness was a plague that only serves to grow if left to fester – and Antonia knew this far too well. Since the Duke did not think her worthy enough to give her his time of day, Antonia had to turn to other forms of human contact. She had bloomed a friendship with one of the maidservants named Grace and this particular evening as the Duchess sat with her eyes puffed up from her latest crying session, the maidservant seemed to notice.

  “My lady Duchess, have you been crying?” she asked her. Clearly, Antonia had made her feel comfortable and at ease enough to ask her so without hesitation.

  Antonia cleared her throat, “Oh dear – I did not mean for it to show,” she tried to cover it up but the truth was, she was happy at least someone noticed.

  “This is terrible, what is the source of my Lady’s tears?” Grace asked in a warm and protective voice.

  “It is nothing – really – please, no need to worry yourself,” Antonia tried to change the topic, unsure whether or not to confide such a personal thing with Grace just yet.

  “I insist, please,” Grace pressed harder, “I am sure the Duke would not want you to be spilling your precious tears,” she said but at the mention of the Duke, something stirred up inside of the Duchess.

  She hid her face away from Grace, as a fresh outpour of tears made their way out in batches. Grace suddenly stood up alarmed and was by Antonia’s side immediately, “Oh dear - you are upset again. I did not mean to probe, my Lady, please do not cry at my expense,” Grace haphazardly attempted to console her.

  “No, it is not your fault, Grace,” Antonia began as she got a hold of herself once again and wiped some of the moisture away from her face, “It is a personal demon that has been haunting me.”

  Grace kneeled up, interested, “You can confide in me, my Lady. You know I will keep your privacy,” she urged.

  And Antonia felt her resolve crumbling, “Well, it is about my marriage to the Duke,” Antonia began hesitantly, awkwardly staring at her hands as she did so. The crying had stopped now but Antonia was not sure for how much longer it would remain so if she were to continue talking about the matter.

  “What about your marriage?”

  Antonia bit down her lip and then exhaled a long sigh, “Grace – please tell me something honestly. And know that I will not hold you accountable if you say something that displeases me – just please be honest,” Antonia gulped, “Am I an attractive woman?”

  Grace shot her a confused look, “Of course you are, my Lady. Why would you even ask a question as ridiculous as that?”

  Antonia shook her head, “Well, the Duke certainly does not happen to think so,” she said, still looking down at her fingers and feeling the wetness brimming up in her eyes once again.

  “Do not be so silly, my Lady! What makes you think that?” Grace asked.

  “For one thing, we both sleep in different quarters – what an insult and a laugh all in one! We are husband and wife for heaven’s sake,” Antonia complained.

  “There could be a myriad of reasons for that!” Grace tried to justify, “you need not feel unwanted because of that.”

  Antonia shook her head violently, “No, you do not understand, Grace,” she said, “He wants nothing to do with me. We barely exchange any words between the two of us.”

  Grace kept quiet for a moment and then spoke again, “Men can be very strange sometimes. But you need not attribute his behavior to anything that you have done,” Grace said, “but I do believe there is something that you can do to capture his attention.”

  Antonia’s ears perked up at that and she was more than willing to know what, “Please tell me.”

  “I think in order to get him to notice you, you must play to his needs as a man,” Grace said seriously.

  “What do you mean, Grace?” Antonia found herself asking the maidservant, unclear of what her meaning had been.

  “You must entice him,” Grace said, “seduce him to your bed and then watch how his attention stays on you.”

  Antonia suddenly shook her head furiously, “I do not even know how to carry out a decent conversation with him – I am not sure how I am meant to do – that with him,” Antonia said shyly, eyes still trained to her hands.

  “Do not be ridiculous, you are a beautiful woman. You will not have to try hard,” Grace said, “I know exactly the thing you should do.”

  -----

  That night, Antonia found herself donned in one of her more sheer nightgowns and tiptoeing across the hall to where the Duke’s room was. Even though she knew it was not the most ladylike thing to consume alcohol, she had slipped herself a glass of wine prior to this just to give her a boost of confidence - because she knew she was going to need it.

  She entered his room and a pang of something struck her heart as she realized that it looked so unfamiliar to her. Still, she was glad that the Duke was not in yet – this gave her the perfect opportunity to set up her act.

  She went and sat on the middle of his bed with her legs crossed and then she waited. Finally, the door swung open and the Duke was seen making his way inside.

  Seeing her there shocked him, “Antonia? What are you doing here?” he asked her.

  “I came here for you,” she replied quietly, “I was hoping we could spend some time together.”

  The Duke examined her outfit and the way she was gazing at him and then gulped, “Antonia we have talked about this, you have your own separate chamber,” he said to her.

  “I know,” she replied, “I do not want too much of your time.”

  “I am not in the mood for a conversation,” the Duke replied but he was growing more and more distracted by her, noticing perhaps for the first time just how remarkably beautiful she was.

  “Would you believe it if I told you I am not either?” she said shyly and looked up at the Duke from underneath her thick eyelashes. And oddly enough, that was all she needed to do.

  -----

  The next morning Antonia woke up still in the Duke’s room with the sun peeking in from the window. She felt a wave of euphoria pass over her as she recalled the events of the night before. Clearly, this proved that all her theories had been invalid and ridiculous indeed as this meant that the Duke did hold feelings for her after all.

  She was barely able to contain her happiness at her realization. Perhaps now their marriage would truly begin to feel like one and not a farce. The Duke stirred to consciousness and Antonia greeted him with a smile.

  “Good morning,” she greeted him in a whisper, the smile still spread across her features.

  The Duke grumbled his own version back at her. Antonia made a movement to grab his hand that was sprawled out between the two of them.

  “Did you have a good sleep?” she asked and then looked at him intensely for a moment before spluttering out, “I love you”.

  Though much to Antonia’s despair, the Duke just scrambled from his place in bed and said something about getting ready for breakfast. Antonia felt a familiar wave of rejection wash over her.

  And before the Duke could make it a few steps away from th
e bed, Antonia shot up, “Why won’t you say it back?” she demanded, feeling the force of her heart breaking.

  The Duke, however, seemed to be annoyed at her persistence. “Antonia, this is too early in the morning. I suggest you return to your own chambers immediately,” he instructed her in the same dismissive manner she was used to.

  Antonia, however, shook her head and refused to budge. “Say it back to me first,” she demanded.

  “No,” the Duke said bluntly, “now if you will excuse me, I must get ready and head downstairs for breakfast. At least one of us has a busy day ahead of us,” he said and began to exit the room before he heard Antonia shout out.

  “I do not deserve this!” she exclaimed, “I have loved you all these years, I have kept your secret – and this is how you treat me?” she shouted, tears now welling up in her eyes.

  This got the Duke’s attention, “What are you talking about? I do not have secrets and certainly not any ones that you would know,” he replied to her sardonically.

  Antonia bit down her lip, “I know,” she said, “I know what you did.”

  The Duke was beginning to look increasingly annoyed at this point, “Antonia, you are talking nonsense and quite frankly ruining my morning.”

  After a fresh wave of tears welled up in Antonia, the words were out of her mouth before she could even stop them, “I know that it was you who killed your father. I saw you!” she exclaimed.

  The color seemed to have vanished from the Duke’s face but it was not for long as anger soon replaced it. He was baffled – there was no way she could have known that and here she did. “You are talking madness,” he shot back at her; he would never admit that it was true to her.

  Antonia shook her head, “I am not. I saw you! That day in the forest – you and he were having an argument – I was only fifteen, I followed you – you…pulled the trigger!” she exclaimed, admitting the words aloud for the first time since they had happened, “I kept your secret so you would not get in trouble! I saved you!”

 

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