The Way to Capture a Marquess's Heart: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  “Alice, do remember what we have said. There really is only one way to pay this debt.”

  “Yes, I shall remember that.”

  Marriage was undoubtedly the begin all and end all to countless situations. Alice left her parents, her mind on the notion of finding a suitor and getting married. She was not an advocate for matrimony, not since Henry had hinted at marriage and then disappeared with the Parisian heiress. But it looked as though she would need to set aside her cynicism and consider it. She would be doing it for Mama, Papa and Violet, not for her own happiness.

  Oh, it was not a glorious thing to go against yourself for the well-being of others, but she was willing to do it for her family.

  ***

  “Do you think that she has absorbed our words?”

  Helen was still staring at the door when her husband spoke. She looked at him, wondering if she had made the right choice all those years ago. She had been married to him for many a year, but this was the first time she had been quite disappointed with him. Fooling her dear Alice was not something she had found easy, but Dougie had begged her to partake in his plan.

  "I cannot say for sure, but she was shocked by our spat. Our daughter has never heard me raise my voice to you, nor have I gone against your word. But you insisted that I do it to show authenticity."

  “Do have faith, Helen, or we will all be doomed.”

  She could have laughed at that. He committed a blunder, and the family were the ones to suffer right along with him. “Dougie, did you mean all that you said about me?”

  “Which part?”

  Had he forgotten already? Helen would not have been concerned about his words had they not been said with such emotion. “Your comment about marrying me.”

  “Oh, of course, not, Helen. What an odd thing to say. You know I was worried that she would pass us by and not hear our argument.”

  “Your daughter has sharp ears, Dougie, and she is devoted to us. It would have been a surprise not to see her walking through that door.”

  "Yes. Well, I hope that she is devoted enough to agree to the marriage. Our future depends on it."

  All this talk of debts, the futures and marriage were beginning to give her a headache. Helen remembered how affected her daughter had been when Henry had left her for the Parisian woman. Alice had changed then, and it was not for the better. Coming to this season may not have been the best for the family, least of all Alice. And now her husband had made a foolish mistake that would forever change the direction of her elder daughter's life.

  "And if she does not take the bait?"

  Her husband shrugged. “Then we shall force her to marry the duke's son. But I would rather she believe that the decision was all hers – it meets the needs of our plan better.”

  “Oh, Dougie, is this necessary? Is there no other way? She is our daughter, after all.”

  “You are correct in saying that she is our daughter, which means it is I who decides such things. The duke has kindly agreed to remove my debt in return for our daughter. I believe it is a fair exchange.”

  “A fair exchange? Dougie, have you forgotten that she is your flesh and blood and not cattle to be sold to the highest bidder?”

  “The duke's son has much to offer, Helen. Alice would be fortunate to marry such a man. Imagine the new social connections that I shall have once my daughter marries the heir of the Richley dukedom?”

  Everything was about him and only him. She could not stand the sight of him at that moment. “I am going to do as Alice suggested and try Cook's biscuits.” She left him without waiting for a response.

  ***

  Luke was beginning to consider hiring someone to watch his father's every move just to make sure that he did not ruin himself and his family’s reputation. It was as though a fever had gripped his father for he shivered as a dog whenever he spoke of gambling. While luck had been on his side for several games, there was always the possibility that someone more experienced and richer than him would take him down. While there were not many men as wealthy as the Duke of Richley in all of England, it would still take one brilliant gambler to bring his father to his knees. Speaking of which, where was the man in question? Had he not said that he would return once he had relieved himself? His father was a crafty fellow. He may have used this excuse to escape him.

  It was as though he were caring for a child rather than a grown man. George Connolly, a great man amongst his circle of acquaintances, had been reduced to someone who could think of nothing but gambling. Gone was the austere, disciplined and forward-thinking gent. Instead, here was a man who had finally identified his Achilles heel but was willing to do nothing to fortify himself against it. Instead, Luke seemed to be the one trying to remove him from tempting situations, and yet still his father ran straight into them.

  Luke was near the window so he would have seen his father pass by in his carriage or on his horse. So far, no one had entered or left the estate. He spied his father's steward making his way to the stables, his sturdy frame making quick work of the distance between house and destination. Had his father sent him to saddle his horse? Luke found himself needing to once again intercept probably another escape plan. He left the house running, meeting the steward as he left the stables.

  “My Lord, may I help you?”

  “You most certainly can, Vincent. Has my father ordered you to saddle his horse?”

  The man's eyes widened before he quickly looked away. He regained his composure after a moment or so, looking up with a blank look. “I wished to speak with the stable-hand, that is all, My Lord.”

  Luke narrowed his eyes. “Do you speak the truth, Vincent, or do you attempt to cover my father's intentions?”

  “My Lord, if it pleases you, may I return to your father? He is expecting me.”

  "Ah, I see. Your refusal to answer my question is answer enough. Vincent, please inform my father that I am aware of his plans, and I do not approve of them."

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  The man hurried off, soon disappearing into the house. His father was not yet fully sober. Nevertheless, he wished to go out again. If Luke were to lock him in his room, would that work? Or would he likely take a stick to his hide?

  No, he would need to think of something else. His father was determined to leave the estate, and who knew where he would end up? There were far too many gambling establishments in London, some that were legal, and others held in the houses of the Ton.

  Luke had to keep him busy with matters of the estate, so that his father may forget about gambling. There was no guarantee that it would work, but it was better than nothing. Luke knew his father was somewhere in the house, although not his study. His other favourite room to drink in was the drawing room, as it had its own drinks trolley. Luke set off at a light run, his mind focused on what he needed to do.

  He was right about his guess as his father was indeed drinking in the drawing room.

  “Father!”

  The man jumped, spilling his drink all over him. He stood up with a stagger, holding his hand out to balance himself. “Luke, must you shout?”

  "Why are you drinking? We have put in an effort to remove the alcohol from your body, but you are intent upon staying in this inebriated state."

  “I am a grown man. I can handle my brandy.” This was said with a sway to the right, causing a misstep.

  Luke sighed. It was difficult to reason with him in this condition. “Where are you going?”

  His father frowned. “Going? Why, I am right here!”

  “Father, I know that you have plans to leave. I wish to know where.”

  The man snorted. “Since when do I answer to you, Son? All you see is mine, it is you who should hold your tongue.”

  “You forget that Grandfather left me a sizeable inheritance of my own, Father. I do not need to be here, yet I wish to help you.”

  "Then you should go."

  This man was frustration personified!

  "If not for me, you would have lo
st everything by now. This drinking and gambling must stop, Father."

  His father waved his hand. “You are too serious, Luke. You must calm down.”

  “How can I when you have a family that still needs you? Your wife and daughters need you, or have you forgotten this?”

  Hannah and Sarah were but his half-sisters, and Thomas his half-brother. But Luke doted on them and wished he could say the same for his stepmother. The Duchess of Richley was a woman Luke could never see again in his life and he would not fret.

  “Since when have you been concerned about Suzannah, Luke? I was under the impression that you could not stand her.”

  His father was not wrong in that, but Luke had never been disrespectful about it. After all, she was the mother of his sisters and brother.

  “I care for my sisters and brother, and she is their mother.”

  “I failed to find a mother for you, did I not?”

  Luke was taken aback. His father had never spoken about this, not once during the past nineteen years. Was he so drunk that he knew not what he was saying?

  “You found a suitable wife, Father. That is all that mattered.”

  His father shook his head. “She would have never left had I...You know, I suddenly feel quite tired.”

  “What were you about to say, Father?”

  “What was I saying?”

  “About my mother?”

  “Suzannah?”

  “No, Suzannah is not my mother.”

  His father smiled. "Oh, yes. She is not. She is my second wife, the one who chose to stay. Do you know –"

  His words were interrupted by the duchess walking into the room in a dress Luke had never seen before. Why was he surprised? She never wore the same dress twice.

  “Oh good. Luke, you are here. Your sisters are insisting that you take them to Hyde Park today. I cannot do it myself as I am to have tea with Lady English.”

  Luke had things to do himself, but he would not argue with his stepmother. Fair, beautiful and as cold as an iceberg, the duchess was the epitome of a well-bred woman who could work a room at a dinner party like no other. She was a social butterfly, one who thrived when there were many to see her. It was a pity that she did not have time for her own children. Her daughters were but seventeen and fifteen, with Hannah attending her first season, and Thomas was ten.

  “Very well, I shall take them this afternoon.”

  “No, no. That does not suit me. I need Hannah to be back by three o'clock to try on her dress for the upcoming ball. You know that she is rather pudgy – no man wishes to have a heavy wife. Thus, we need to do a miracle and hide all her imperfections.”

  Suzannah was certainly a crass woman, never worried about how her words affected others.

  “There is nothing wrong with Hannah, and whoever marries her will be a lucky man.”

  "Yes, her dowry should attract a good suitor. If she found herself a duke, I would be happy. But a marquess or an earl is all right as well, I suppose."

  There was no talking to this woman. Luke felt sorry for his sisters, but he could do nothing to shield them from her. Thomas was the only one who fared well when it came to their mother, but it was not due to motherly affection but gain. Luke had long since known that his stepmother wanted him out of the way so that Thomas would inherit the title. But Luke's inheritance was set in stone. He would become the next Duke of Richley, a title he could have cared less about.

  “Very well. I will go with them now. Are they ready?”

  “Yes, they are in the parlour.” For the first time since entering the room, she noticed her husband. “George, do not tell me that you are drunk again? For goodness sake, it is still yet early in the day.”

  The duke grabbed his head. “Do not screech so, woman. Tend to your friends and leave me be.”

  “Do you know how it pains me to have a drunk for a husband? Luke,” she called, turning to him. “Do you know what your father did at the Byrons’ ball?”

  “I assume dance?”

  “Ha! If only it were that innocent. No. He became disgustingly drunk, but at least he won something.”

  His father started to laugh and hiccup at the same time, a testament to his inebriated state. “Great game of piquet it was, cleaned out that old Baron of Leeds!”

  “Lord Campbell?” Luke asked.

  “Yes, that fool. He thought he could win against me. Well, the greater man was shown when I took all of his money. Left him penniless, I did.”

  Luke vaguely remembered the man. He had two daughters, both dark-haired like him. The duke was too drunk on power at the moment to think straight. He boasted of this game today, but what of tomorrow?

  “Foolish man!” said the duchess. “I do not know why I waste my breath on you. It is better that I leave you to your state.” She walked away, turning at the door. “Luke, do not allow Hannah to eat any sweets, do you hear me? She must fit into this dress. I shall not accept failure.”

  He did not answer her, but he didn’t need to. Suzannah expected things to be done exactly as she ordered it, no questions asked.

  “Beautiful woman, but a heart of steel,” his father muttered.

  Luke wished to tell him that he was to blame as he had married the woman, but he held his tongue. Far be it for him to comment on another man's wife. “Father, I shall have Vincent take you to your room to rest.”

  At least the duke would rest rather than run to the next gambling house. The man's eyelids drooped, his body limp as he sat in his chair. Luke could only shake his head as he went in search of Vincent.

  Chapter 2

  She supposed asking for new paint was out of the question. Alice sighed as she looked at her dwindling source, knowing she had a week or so before her primary colours would finish. Goodness, not only did she need to complete Aunt Tally's portrait, but she also had the garden scene to complete for her mother.

  She had stretched herself thin this time, but she did so enjoy it. She would much rather remain in this room than attend any ball with many pretentious people.

  Alice dipped her paintbrush into the blue paint, using light brush-strokes to create a realistic sky. Her painting was to resemble an English garden in summer. Thus, she needed the sky to be the perfect backdrop to the splash of colour that her flowers would bring. Having been busy with Aunt Tally's portrait for some time, she was behind on this one. If only she did not have to attend a silly upcoming ball this week, she would be far more relaxed. Alice had felt a restlessness within her ever since her parents' argument some days ago. A pressure had been placed upon her that she had never imagined could happen, and now all that sat upon her mind was marriage.

  She may be two and twenty, but she had hoped that this subject of marriage would not become a noose about her neck. But what could she do when her father had put them into such a tight position? It would be easy to wash her hands of this situation and tell him that he was a grown man and he should tend to the problem himself, but she was not that kind of daughter. Although she should be, as he was the one to have put himself in this predicament with his foolish antics.

  Had her mother not warned him against gambling? Had she not asked her husband to stay away from any temptation that could present itself at the party? Alice remembered her mother's words clearly. If only her father had done the same. It was deeply annoying how a man insisted on doing as he pleased because he was the head of the family. And yet, when he committed a blunder, his problem would spread to everyone within the family, including the servants.