A Solitary Duke
By
Fenella J Miller
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any method, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of The Author - Fenella J. Miller
A Solitary Duke -The Duke's Bride © Copyright Fenella J. Miller, 2020
This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’ s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.
Cover Design J D Smith
Chapter One
Margate, June 1815.
The carriage rocked to a halt outside a smart, recently constructed edifice. Lucy didn’t wait for the steps to be let down by the waiting footman, but jumped out.
‘Margate Manor seems a delightful place to be for the next few months, Papa,’ she said as she looked around. She had never been anywhere interesting before and spending the summer at Margate with her family was an adventure indeed.
She straightened her bonnet which was somewhat askew and retied the ribbons beneath her chin. She braced herself for a bear-garden jaw from both her dear papa and her step-mama. Everything they said inside the carriage was quite clear from where she stood.
Lady Stanfield sighed loudly at her daughter’s impetuosity. ‘Frederick, my love, can you not restrain your daughter? She has no decorum at all. I cannot imagine what scandals she will cause whilst we are residing in our seasonal abode.’
Papa laughed and joined Lucy on the neatly raked turning circle. ‘Dearest girl, you are giving your mama palpitations. You gave me your word you would behave yourself and I intend to hold you to it.’
She embraced him and he returned her hug. ‘I promised I would do nothing untoward and I will do my best to keep to that. Though if dearest mama is to be so easily shocked then I fear things might not go as smoothly as we’d hoped.’
The steps were now down and he turned smoothly and offered his hand to his wife. ‘You are quite incorrigible, miss, a hoyden if ever I saw one.’ She held out her arms and Lucy embraced her lovingly.
‘Look, mama, the carriage is arriving with the children and their nanny. I suggest that you and papa go in and let me take the children to explore before I bring them inside. They have been cooped up for several hours and will be exploding with energy.’
‘You are the sweetest girl; I don’t know how we could manage without you. The children are better behaved in your care than they are in mine. I dread the day when you find yourself a handsome gentleman and leave to set up your own nursery.’
‘There’s no fear of that. I was a total disaster in London last season and got no offers or interest at all. I intend to continue as a devoted older sister to my siblings and then will take care of you two in your dotage.’
Her parents hurriedly vanished into the house and the butler closed the front door firmly behind them. Lucy adored her three little sisters and brother and acted as their governess. It wasn’t through lack of funds that one had not been appointed but because the children were so mischievous none of those that came stopped above a sennight.
She was, in her opinion, a plain, beanpole of a girl and had no intention ever of getting married. For this reason, she had selected for herself a range of the most hideous gowns and slouched about the place staring at her feet in order to put off would-be suitors. Those foolhardy enough to invite her to stand up with them had had their toes trodden on and received no more than a mumble in response to any conversational gambits on their part. There were some fortune hunters who might have been tempted to offer for her as she was a substantial heiress. Her appearance and behaviour put off even those.
One might have thought that a young lady who professed herself to be the most devoted of older sisters would have happily been incarcerated in a carriage with four lively children for several hours. This task was best left to the nanny and nursemaids – she preferred to travel in comfort with her parents.
The steps were let down and the three girls tumbled out squealing and shouting with excitement on seeing their favourite person in the world. Little Freddie, still in leading strings at scarcely two years old, emerged in the arms of an exhausted nursemaid.
‘I’m going to take the girls for a walk, Nanny. I’ll bring them back when they are calm and ready for nursery tea.’
Lydia, at eight years of age, was the oldest and eleven years her junior. She, like Arabella, aged seven, and Juliet now five years old, all resembled their mama. They had glorious golden curls, bright blue eyes and would be quite stunning when they reached maturity. Freddie was the only one that resembled her. They both took after papa having his mouse-brown hair and strange blue-grey eyes.
‘Lucy, can we see the sea? I want to see it right now,’ Lydia demanded and put her hands on her hips in her usual truculent way.
‘That’s exactly what I intended, sweetheart, so there’s no need to be so belligerent. As you are the oldest I shall allow you to walk beside me like a grown-up girl. Bella, you will take one hand and, Juliet, my other.’
There was no view of the sea from the rear of the house where the carriages turned and the stable block, coach house and so on were situated. Papa had assured her that the gardens led down to their private beach. She was about to escort the little ones in that direction when an enormous, grey and white wolfhound bounded around the corner, tongue lolling from the side of his massive mouth and teeth barred.
The children screamed, let go of her hands and raced towards the animal. ‘Sydney, Sydney, we’ve missed you so much,’ Lydia yelled and the three of them hurled themselves at the dog. Before Lucy could remonstrate, they were rolling around in the dirt with the animal, and her beloved pet was licking every inch of skin he could reach.
‘Children, get up at once. Sydney, enough. Leave them alone.’ Her voice cracked like a whip and was instantly obeyed. Her sisters recognised this tone and knew better than to disobey. The dog loved his mistress and wouldn’t dream of upsetting her. He rolled over, regained his feet and padded across to nudge her affectionately.
‘Brush ourselves down, you look like ragamuffins. Do you think that Sydney likes to swim in the sea?’
Bella, the quietest of the three girls, grabbed Lucy’s hand. ‘He swims in the lake at home and in the river. I think he’ll like the sea as well.’
‘I think you will too, sweetheart. Juliet, are you ready to run? One – two – three.’
They raced around the house and across the lawn. The sea was visible, glittering in the sunshine and she was as excited as the children. She’d never been to the seaside and Papa had purchased this house to spend their summers in for two reasons One, because her father had invested heavily in the sailing-packet services that had commenced this year. These boats left from London and then delivered passengers to various coastal resorts. The second was for Mama to recover her health in the sea air.
Lucy had been disappointed that they didn’t travel on one themselves but Mama had always refused to set foot on a boat of any sort. She was determined to return on the packet but had yet to decide how this might be accomplished. Young ladies didn’t travel alone if they wished to keep their reputations intact.
Sydney galloped ahead of them giving the occasional yelp of excitement. Although the water was clearly visible it was much further than she’d anticipated and by the time they reached the end of the carefully manicured grass they were all red-faced and out of breath.
‘I think we had better walk the rest of the way or we’ll have no energy at all to enjoy paddling and pl
aying on the sand.’
The girls were only too happy to continue at a much more decorous pace. There were stone steps that led down to the beach but these were safe enough for little ones as they were shallow and had a substantial railing to cling on to.
The vista was breath-taking. Their house was a mile from the town itself and set in a secluded bay. All one could see in either direction was the finest sand backed by rolling greensward. She had never seen anything so wonderful in her life. Even London had nothing to offer that would compare favourably.
The dog was already gambolling in the waves and her sisters were determined to join him. ‘Quickly, sit down and remove your boots and stockings. I shall assist Bella and Juliet, but Lydia you can manage for yourself.’
Juliet was ready first and was digging furiously in the fine sand like a little terrier looking for a bone. Bella joined her but Lydia had run to the edge and was already holding up her skirts and skipping from one foot to the other in the water.
Lucy knew little about tides but being observant could see the beach in front of her was dry so the sea must be coming in. How quickly this would happen she’d no idea but thought it best if they didn’t linger too long.
*
‘Your grace, her grace has asked that you visit her before you leave,’ Southey, the butler, said as Edwin was about to stride from the front door and escape from the constant twittering of the female in his family.
‘Kindly inform her grace that I am busy.’ This wasn’t strictly true but the only time he felt remotely happy was when he was riding along the beach. Since his beloved wife had died three years ago giving birth to a stillborn son, he had become reclusive, a solitary duke, and never went into company.
He had abandoned his ancestral estate in Hampshire and purchased a modest manor house that overlooked the sea. Both his gelding, Hamlet and his stallion, Othello, had discovered the joys of sea bathing with him.
The stretch of beach he rode on every morning was always deserted, too far from Margate to have any summer visitors taking picnics and gawping at him. He’d already had to forego his swim today as his estate manager had arrived the previous day and had kept him confined to the office signing papers and discussing other matters until now.
He might not be able to go into the sea but he could still ride along the sand and gain some comfort from the sound of the waves lapping the shore, the cries of the seagulls overhead, and no interruption from humankind.
Today he was taking the bay, Hamlet, and the gelding was stamping his feet, tossing his magnificent head in his eagerness to stretch his legs. He trotted down the drive and out onto the springy turf that led to the beach. His mount increased his pace without instruction and by the time they emerged onto the sand they were cantering.
He leaned forward to encourage the horse to go faster. The wind whipped through his unruly hair and he smiled. They rounded the headland and the horse extended his neck and his pace until they were galloping flat out through the waves.
He was oblivious to everything, for these brief moments he tried to forget his sadness and the pressure he was under from his mother to marry again and provide an heir to the dukedom. He was determined to resist as he would never put another woman through the agony his beloved Sarah had suffered before she died. He’d never forget her anguish when she knew the son he so wanted was dead. He believed that this had been a contributing factor to her own demise, that she might have made more effort to recover if the baby had survived.
So immersed in his dark thoughts was he that he failed to notice the children and their governess paddling at the edge of the sea until he was almost upon them. He wrenched Hamlet’s head round, kicked him hard on his left side and prayed that would be enough to prevent the most horrible accident.
The gelding responded instantly and veered so violently he almost lost his seat. He could hear the screams of terror from the children but apart from being drenched they were unharmed. He reined in hard and as his mount came to a rearing halt he was thanking a God he no longer believed in that he hadn’t killed anyone by his reckless behaviour.
All might have been well if at that very moment the largest dog he’d ever seen hadn’t launched himself at him. The animal’s teeth sunk into his thigh. Unbalanced by the unexpected attack he lost his grip and fell head first into the water.
He landed on his face and was about to push himself onto his knees when a heavy weight settled on his back pinning him under the water. He’d already swallowed a goodly amount and this aggravated the situation. Surely to God he wasn’t going to drown in six inches of water?
‘Sydney, get off your big lummox. I know he nearly killed us but you can’t drown him. He’s a stupid man but he doesn’t deserve to die.’
The dog shifted. Edwin was on his feet, spluttering and coughing over the speaker before she’d finished her sentence. How dare someone of the lower classes speak to him like that? She forestalled his pithy set down by speaking again.
‘Only an imbecile would gallop along the beach without first checking that there were no people in his way. This is a private beach, sir, you are trespassing. Remove yourself and your unfortunate horse immediately.’
The wolfhound snarled. Hamlet took fright and bolted back in the direction they’d come leaving him stranded. He shook his head sending sprays of water over the girl. She wasn’t impressed.
‘I don’t know who you are, and I have no wish to be further acquainted. Any person – I won’t dignify you by referring to you as a gentleman – who rides with such disregard to propriety and common sense is beyond the pale.’
He wasn’t sure if he was furious or amused by her outrageous statement. By the time he’d gathered his wits she’d gathered her little flock around her and was hurrying back across the rapidly diminishing sand and had reached a set of stone steps he’d not noticed before.
In what way had he disregarded propriety? That he lacked common sense he was forced to agree with – but the other? What had the wretched girl been referring to? He was soaked to the skin, his boots were full of water, and his shirt glued to his chest. He glanced down and laughed out loud. Not something he’d done for years.
He might as well have been naked. His shirt clung to his torso like a second skin and was quite transparent. His breeches were likewise stretched to contour every muscle in his thighs. There was a dark patch on one of them that hurt like the very devil. That damn dog had drawn blood.
In the two years he’d lived here he’d never bothered to make enquiries about his neighbours. In fact, until now he’d not known there was even a house so close to his. It was two miles at least to his own abode so he’d better start walking. It might be June but the sea had yet to warm up and he was chilled to the marrow.
When the tide turned it raced in and whilst he’d been dithering here it was already up to his knees. There had been, so he’d been informed, many people over the years caught unawares and drowned. He would move faster with his boots off. He reached down, maintaining his balance easily, and removed each in turn. He ran to the steps.
He couldn’t return the way he’d come so he would have to travel overland which meant further trespassing and he didn’t trust that insolent governess not to set the dog on him a second time. He had no option. He would have to present himself at the house, explain his predicament, and ask for assistance.
He often walked barefoot so had no difficulty doing so now. He was barely halfway up when the governess appeared carrying a blanket. ‘Thank goodness, I hoped you would have the sense to come this way despite my appalling rudeness. Here, put this around you, you’ll send my mother into palpitations if she sees you as you are.’
He flicked it around his shoulders and now looked at the girl more closely. ‘I beg your pardon, I mistook you for the children’s governess. Will you allow me to introduce myself?’
‘Let me go first. I am Miss Lucy Armitage, my father is Lord Stanfield, the children are my half-sisters.’
‘And I am E
dwin Gilbert, I believe I’m your closest neighbour.’ For some reason he didn’t use his title. He thought that if her family knew who he was they would think him a good catch for their strident daughter. They might insist that he had compromised her and demand that he make her an offer.
‘Well, Mr Gilbert, you had better come with me. Your leg is leaking blood where Sydney took a lump from you. Seawater will have cleaned it but it might need sutures.’
‘My valet can attend to that, Miss Armitage. If you could arrange to have me transported to my home immediately, I should be extremely grateful.’
He was somewhat surprised that the girl hadn’t fetched any male servants, that Lord Stanfield hadn’t appeared breathing fire, but relieved he wouldn’t have to prevaricate about his true identity to anyone else.
The dog loped towards him and he stiffened. She laughed at him. ‘There’s no need to be scared, sir, Sydney won’t attack you a second time.’
‘Take me to the stables. I’ve no wish to go inside.’
She ignored his abrupt tone and nodded. ‘Yes, I think that would be a sensible solution. My parents would take exception to your behaviour and I think you’ve suffered enough.’
She walked blithely on, unaware of the thinness of the ice upon which she was standing. Nobody, not even his beloved Sarah, had ever spoken to him so disrespectfully.
A smartly dressed groom nodded politely but otherwise ignored him. The girl asked for a gig to be got ready and to be made available to him.
‘Jenkins will drive you back, Mr Gilbert. I cannot say it was a pleasure to meet you but I can say that I hope I never have the misfortune to do so again.’ Only then did she turn and face him fully. He watched with dismay as her colour faded. He should have masked his fury but too late to repine.
Chapter Two
Up until that moment Lucy had considered the tall, raven-dark man to be nothing more than perhaps a local squire. Now he was staring at her down what was undoubtedly an aristocratic nose, his dark blue eyes arctic and his lips thin. She’d never seen anything so terrifying in her life.
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