The Duke, the Earl and the Captain

by Gemma Blackwood

  “How can you possibly think I would accept you?” Grace demanded. She was not often stirred to anger, but she struggled to contain the indignation rising in her throat now. Her voice shook a little more than she would have liked. “You were unfaithful!”

  “I can’t deny it,” Vincent admitted lightly. “And I am more than grateful to you for keeping my behaviour quiet. I think that speaks very well of the partnership we shall make together.”

  “Oh no, no.” Grace folded her arms across her chest, as though that would ward Vincent’s attentions away. “There will be no partnership.”

  “Not a romantic one, certainly,” said Vincent pleasantly. He spoke as if she were a child, and he her patient tutor. “We are long past these silly dreams of romance. Fidelity is a woman’s lot, Miss Rivers. Men are quite different, as you have learned. And I think you are now in a position to understand that an unfaithful husband is better than no husband at all.” He beamed at her as though he could not imagine the possibility of her refusing.

  Grace got to her feet and went deliberately to the bell to summon the butler. “I think we had better draw this visit to a close,” she said coldly. Vincent blinked in surprise.

  “Have I offended in some way?”

  “You could not possibly have humiliated me more.” She struggled to maintain her composure, though her face was burning with emotion. “If you ever had any feelings for me at all, you will please leave at once, and never call on me again.”

  “On the contrary,” said Vincent, maintaining his oily smile, “I fully intend to call upon you tomorrow – and the next day – and the next. I am quite determined, you see. You will accept me, Miss Rivers. I am afraid you have a sad realisation awaiting you. Not only a jilt, but a jilt doubly? Who do you imagine will offer for you now?”

  “A life of spinsterhood seems comfortable indeed, compared to the misery of marrying you,” said Grace simply. She heard her mother draw a breath, though whether it was in condemnation or approval she did not know.

  “Ah, Mr Watts,” said Mrs Rivers, seeing the butler appear at the door. “Please show Mr Seabury out.”

  Vincent made a stiff bow. “Until tomorrow, ladies.”

  “You will not find me at home,” Grace warned him.

  “Then I will find you in Hyde Park, Miss Rivers, or at the opera – or in any number of places. Wherever you dare to show your face, in fact. You will not escape me.”

  With those words, he swept out of the room ahead of the frowning Mr Watts. Grace knew better than to respond. Vincent was the sort of man who always desired the last word.

  “That was very well done, my darling,” said Mrs Rivers, opening her arms to let Grace fall against her in distress. “What an odious creature! You are so lucky that you saw him for what he was before it was too late.”

  “Do you really think so?” asked Grace, burying her face in her mother’s shoulder. “I cannot help but think…”

  “Never believe a word of what he said! It is not true at all. Besides, marriage is not such a great blessing. If you choose to remain single, I hope you will be very happy.”

  “But not, I think, comfortable,” said Grace wryly. She picked up the letter that had arrived from her father that morning, which had been lying in a crumpled heap on the table.

  “Oh! That thing! That cruel man!” Mrs Rivers tried to take the letter from her. “We will throw it onto the fire, my love, and think no more about it.”

  Grace held the letter out of her mother’s reach, smoothed it, and read the fatal line once more. “You will not receive a penny of your inheritance if you do not get yourself properly married.” She could not bring herself to read the words which followed – And please understand that a proper marriage will not involve any connection to inferior persons by the name of Everly. “There. You of all people know how stubborn father is. I am quite sure that he means it.”

  “I have my own money, which I will certainly use for your protection,” said Mrs Rivers stoutly. “It is not much compared to his, I know, but it is better than nothing. You will survive, Grace! You will learn to get by.”

  “But I don’t want to get by!” said Grace, suddenly overcome by all the emotion of the past few days. “I want – I thought I might – I want to be happy!”

  Mrs Rivers led her to the sofa, sat down beside her, and held her until she was quiet. “You have not told me anything of what happened on your last day in Whitby,” she said gently.

  “Don’t ask me to speak of it,” said Grace sadly. “I was mistaken. That’s enough.”

  “I will not press you.” Mrs Rivers tilted her daughter’s face upwards so that she could meet her eyes. “The most important thing is that you realised your mistake soon enough to rectify it. Believe me, Grace, the very last thing I would ever wish for you is to end like your father and myself. Separated – estranged – alone! An unhappy marriage is a curse that I refuse to have you endure.”

  “I will be like you, Mama,” said Grace, drying her eyes. “I will never rely on a man for my happiness – and I will not be unhappy, I swear it!”

  But even as she spoke, her thoughts turned to Charlie. Charlie, with his hair damp from the river and his shirt ruined by the mud. Charlie, laughing as he handed her the reins of his curricle.

  They had almost been happy, Grace was sure of it. But she had no desire to live a life of reckless danger, such as the one Charlie seemed to embrace.

  In any case, when put to the test, his heart belonged to Greenfields. He had not been able to deny it.

  And why should Grace cast her own heart away on someone who would never love her in return?

  11

  Vincent Seabury was true to his word. The following morning found him rapping at the door of Mrs Rivers’s townhouse. He had pre-empted his arrival with a bunch of hothouse lilies, and, despite Grace’s disappointing response the previous day, had every expectation of being welcomed inside.

  The last thing he expected was a firm hand gripping him by the back of the collar and dragging him down the front steps back to the street.

  “Ah ha!” said Charlie, his face aglow with a mixture of anger and triumph as he wrestled Seabury backwards. “So it’s the famous coward, Mr Seabury! Do you know, I hoped I might see you again! You did not make it to our dawn engagement the other day?”

  Seabury attempted to wriggle out from his grasp, muttering something sullenly about being called away on urgent business. Charlie kept a firm grip on his collar and turned him about so that he was facing away from the house.

  “While I would ordinarily be happy to reschedule our meeting, Seabury, I have had second thoughts about lowering myself to fight a weasel like you. Now, I am quite certain that you can have no legitimate business at the Rivers house today, so I will do you the favour of seeing you on your way.”

  Seabury ducked and twisted, wrenching himself around far enough that Charlie was forced to let him go. “I have an urgent errand with Miss Rivers! One that you have no right to obstruct!”

  Charlie placed himself between Seabury and Grace’s door. “On the contrary, sir, I consider it my duty to protect Miss Rivers from the unpleasant experience of ever seeing you again.”

  “Have a care, Everly,” said Seabury, with a mocking smirk. “You are speaking of the woman I intend to marry.”

  Charlie cocked an eyebrow. “She cannot wish to marry you, though, I think – which rather puts a damper on your fortune-hunting scheme, does it not?”

  Seabury was saved from responding by the butler’s appearance at Mrs Rivers’s front door. “Watts!” he called, relieved. “You know me! Let me in at once, and have some men brought out to deal with this rascal.”

  “I am afraid that is impossible, sir,” said Mr Watts impassively. He raked his eyes over Charlie and betrayed a faint hint of surprise. “Miss Rivers is not at home.”

  “Oh, but she is,” growled Seabury, and tried to dodge past Charlie.

  “You are mistaken, sir,” said the butler, taking a s
tep back. Charlie leapt to the side to block Seabury’s way.

  “I am warning you,” he said softly. “Do not take another step towards her house, Seabury. I am not afraid to strike you.”

  Seabury backed off a few steps, his smirk turning sour, and then came at Charlie in a rush designed to break past him.

  Charlie did not hesitate. His fist swung up of its own accord and caught Seabury right on the chin. He heard an appreciative whistle from the butler as Seabury crumpled to the floor.

  “Take note, Seabury,” he advised the prone figure. “If you should ever breathe an unkind word about Miss Rivers, there will be more of that to follow.” With Seabury thus dispatched, Charlie turned around, wringing out his hand. “Captain Charles Everly to see Miss Rivers, please.”

  “You will certainly not be allowed entry into this house!” gasped an unfamiliar, female voice. Mr Watts stepped aside to reveal a handsome lady in her mid-forties, who must have been Grace’s mother. “Brawling on my front doorstep! I never saw such ungentlemanly behaviour!”

  Charlie made a deep bow. “I must beg your forgiveness, Mrs Rivers! Let me assure you that I fully intend to be the perfect gentleman from this moment forward.”

  Behind him, Seabury pushed himself up onto his knees, groaning theatrically. “You have broken my jaw!” he complained, with a clarity that belied his accusation.

  “Get yourself to a tavern, Seabury, and have someone slap a steak on it,” Charlie suggested cheerfully. “Miss Rivers is not at home to you today.”

  “Nor you, young man!” snapped Grace’s mother. “I don’t want to see either of you within a mile of this house again! Grace does not want you – do you understand? Be off with you!”

  “Charlie!”

  All four of them – Mr Watts, Mrs Rivers, Charlie, and Seabury – looked about for the source of this cry of delight. Charlie was the first to realise it came from above them, where Grace was leaning out of an upstairs window.

  “Grace!” he called, and without a moment’s hesitation, dropped to one knee. Mrs Rivers gasped and clutched the butler’s arm. Grace clapped a hand to her mouth in shock.

  “Grace,” Charlie repeated, suddenly nervous as he had never been before, “I have come to ask you –”

  “No!” she cried, waving her hands in an incoherent gesture. “Charlie, you mustn’t, you mustn’t! Wait a moment – I will come down – Mama, do let him inside, do!”

  Charlie got to his feet, rather abashed, and bowed again to Mrs Rivers. “Ma’am, if you would be so kind as to permit me to come in?”

  “I suppose you better had,” said Mrs Rivers. Her lips were tightly pursed. Charlie did not think she was exactly impressed with his impulsive proposal. “Watts, if Mr Seabury attempts to enter this house again, summon a constable at once.”

  “Gladly, ma’am,” said Mr Watts, who was apparently a master at concealing inappropriate glee. Charlie went into the house, and Watts shut the door behind him, leaving Vincent Seabury staggering around and clutching his jaw in the street.

  Grace came running down the stairs and caught Charlie’s hands in hers. “I thought I would never see you again!” she said, in such stricken tones that it was not immediately clear whether or not she was pleased to be wrong.

  “Grace,” said Charlie, quite forgetting that her mother and the butler were still standing by – not to mention several curious maids, drawn by the ruckus. “I did not duel Seabury. But I would have, if he had appeared. I am sorry for it now. I know that my behaviour is rash, and my temper –”

  “You must know that I only told you I could not marry you because I wanted you to call off the duel,” Grace interrupted, her eyes bright with tears and locked on his. “I could not bear the thought of you being hurt on my account!”

  “I know – of course I know! And I am sorry now that I caused you pain. I wanted to protect you, and I thought it was the only way… But I have thought on it, and you were right to stop me! If I had only listened –”

  “Grace,” said Mrs Rivers coolly, “why don’t you take Captain Everly into the drawing room?”

  Grace looked around as though realising for the first time that she and Charlie were not alone. “Yes – of course – follow me, Captain.”

  Charlie smiled at her sudden recollection of propriety, but made no comment. He allowed himself to be led into the drawing room and seated on an overstuffed yellow sofa. Grace closed the door on her mother and the assembled servants and sat on a chair opposite him, her hands clasped together in her lap.

  “Charlie,” she said, very seriously, “I am afraid that you were about to propose to me again. And I am afraid I must tell you that you cannot.”

  “Can’t I?” said Charlie softly. “What on earth do you think would stop me?”

  A sob rose in Grace’s throat. She turned away from him, wholly unaware of the innocent beauty of her profile, and how her sadness wrenched at his chest.

  “My father has forbidden me to marry you,” she said. “I will inherit nothing from him if we are wed.”

  “That is my fault,” said Charlie. “I went to Greenfields expecting to find you there, and I am afraid your father and I exchanged some angry words. I will go to him and apologise –”

  “It will do no good!” said Grace, still refusing to look him in the eye. “Father has made up his mind about you! You must know that he was always jealous of your family. He only accepted your offer in the first place because he thought I had no other option. Now that you have insulted him… Charlie, if you marry me, he will put Greenfields forever out of your reach!”

  Charlie was silent a long while. He had been expecting vengeance on Mr Rivers’s part, true enough, but this went beyond what he had imagined.

  His mind clung desperately to the memory of the ivy climbing over the southern wall of Greenfields House; the sweet little rose garden where he had first pricked his finger on a thorn; the rolling fields; the ancient oak tree he had loved to climb.

  Giving them up for good seemed impossible. He had never pictured a life truly bereft of Greenfields. He had no idea what it might hold.

  Only one certainty remained to him.

  “But I will have you,” he said quietly. Grace turned to him at last, eyes wider than ever, her lips parted in confusion.

  Charlie dropped to his knees before her and pressed her hand to his lips. “I will have you, Grace, and that is all that matters now.”

  “You cannot mean it,” she whispered. “I know how much you love Greenfields.”

  “I do,” he admitted, “and I will always love it – as the home of my boyhood. I am a man now, and I have my own future to decide. I want you at my side, Grace. Say you’ll marry me.”

  She did not answer. Charlie placed her hand against his cheek and held her grey eyes in his. He had never seen anything more beautiful than the piercing hope which was slowly dawning there.

  “If I had the choice,” he said slowly, “which I know I do not – but if I were able to choose between returning to Greenfields, and making you my wife, I would choose you.”

  Grace bent down and kissed him. Charlie was surprised enough to freeze for a moment, before the warmth of her lips awoke an answering passion in him and he wound his fingers through her hair, pressing her closer.

  “I will marry you,” Grace sighed, leaning her forehead against his. “Not because I have no choice. Because you are my choice. I will marry you.”

  There was a sharp rap at the door. Charlie jumped to his feet, trying not to look too guilty. Grace watched him with an impish smile.

  “Come in!” she called. Her mother bustled into the room, running a sharp eye over Charlie.

  “You have had more than enough time to discuss things,” she said impatiently. “What have you decided, Grace? Am I to welcome this young man, or have him thrown out of the house?” She looked at Charlie severely. “Believe me, Captain, at the moment I am much more inclined to the second option.”

  “Mama,” said Grace quietly, “allow
me to introduce Captain Charles Everly – my fiancé.”

  The change in Mrs Rivers’s demeanour was astonishing. She let out a cry of joy, seized Charlie by the shoulders, and kissed him warmly on each cheek. “Wonderful!” she cried. “Simply wonderful!”

  “Father will not like it,” said Grace. Mrs Rivers laughed.

  “In my opinion, my darling, that makes it all the better! Why should you let that cruel old man dictate your happiness, indeed? You have not made this decision to please anyone but yourself, and that is as good an omen as any for a happy future.”

  “I intend to be the most excellent of husbands,” said Charlie sincerely.

  “Don’t make overblown promises,” said Mrs Rivers, taking Grace’s hand. “If I could write the wedding vows myself, I would have each couple vow only to treat each other with kindness. Kindness is the root of everything. Without it, a marriage withers. But if you can always remember to be kind, I think you will do very well indeed.”

  “I shall never forget it,” said Charlie. Mrs Rivers glanced between them, her stern lips beginning to tremble.

  “Oh! Do excuse me!” she said, bringing a hand to her mouth that entirely failed to disguise the emotion that was about to overcome her. “I must go and tell Cook that we are expecting Captain Everly for dinner.”

  She rushed from the room. Grace put her hand on Charlie’s arm to stall his concern.

  “She is happy,” she said. “Mama has had a difficult life, and she thinks tears are not a sign of strength, but believe me, she is happy.”

  “Not half as happy as I am,” said Charlie, and drew her back towards him and kissed her so soundly that, if she had any remaining doubts about his feelings, they were quite driven from her mind.

  Epilogue

  Charlie and Grace were in no rush to set up their own household in the months following their marriage. Their first stop was a fortnight spent in Brighton, and by the time the honeymoon was over, Mrs Rivers and Alison Henshaw had become embroiled in a friendly battle over who would host the newlyweds first. Since Mrs Rivers had hosted the wedding, Grace was more than amenable to returning to Whitby-on-the-Water as a respectable married woman and visiting with the Henshaws.