The Trouble with Saving a Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Emma Linfield

  “Yes. My Mother is furious. I’ve upset my Sisters and my Sather…” She blinked and looked at him, lips pressed together.

  “My Mother was so upset, she told me I could never come here again, and that she would have you sent away if I was seen with you again.”

  He let out a gasp. “Send me away? But why? And why would she object to you seeing me at all? Nobody knows that we have been keeping time.”

  She shook her head. “As I found out, she and my Father both know I like to come to the stable to help out.”

  He frowned. “That is good, is it not? Then they do not object.”

  She shrugged and looked at her hands. “They feel it unsavory for a lady, but Father…” suddenly she looked up, her eyes wide.

  “Please, do not be concerned. My Father would never send you away, not on the word of my Mother.”

  He nodded, “I am grateful to hear it. Although I do not understand why your Mother despises me so as to even threaten it.”

  “She thinks you are a spy, sent by the Keswick family.”

  Oliver narrowed his eyes, prompting her to explain further.

  “The family feud I told you about. The other family is called Keswick. They live in Gloucester. My mother always expects them to be up to no good. And in her mind, sending a spy is just what they would do.”

  Oliver found himself smirking. “And what do you think? Do you think me a spy?”

  He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, crossing his hands in front of his chest to make himself look as menacing as possible. This had the desired effect and she broke into giggles.

  “I am glad to see you laugh and smile. I do not like to see you so upset.”

  “You make it easy for me to recover. You know just what to say.” They looked at one another for a long moment before he blinked.

  “So, your Mother despises me because she thinks I am a spy? What does she think I am sent to do? Catalog the amount of manure the Oxshire horses produce per day? For that is all I could relay back to this Keswick lot.”

  She chuckled at the idea but shook her head, growing serious once more.

  “I suppose she fears you have been sent to keep me from making a good match.” She shrugged, unable to meet his gaze. Oliver felt his chest grow tighter.

  “How would I do that?”

  He felt a tingle go down into his arms, causing his fingers to twitch.

  She shrugged once more and looked away with a sigh. “My Sister, in her anger, said that I’d rather be with a stable boy than with a lord, because she had seen us together at the paddock. This incensed Mother. It is what led her to vow not to let me see you again.”

  He swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. He was not sure how to respond.

  “Your Mother thinks I was sent to lure you away? To win your heart and take you away from here?”

  “My Mother often is prone to thinking in extremes.”

  Her voice was hardly above a whisper. She dropped one of her hands beside her, into the empty space between the two of them. Without thinking, he placed his beside hers, although far enough apart so they were not touching.

  “Does she have reason to think so?” A part of him could not believe he was asking her this. Yet now that he had, he awaited her answer with bated breath.

  She still could not seem to meet his eyes for she continued to glance at the floor. However, just as he thought he might burst with anticipation of her answer, he felt her hand gently against his, just enough to where their pinky fingers were touching.

  He did not hesitate but placed his hand on hers at once, squeezing in as he did.

  “Faith, Oliver.” At last she looked up at him. “What are we to do?” He felt her fingers curl around his hand as she spoke.

  “I do not know. I only know that I feel as though I have been stumbling around in the dark these past few days, trying to find my way back to who I was. There has been little to encourage me, and I often feel lost. Except for when you are near. With you close by, I feel as though there is hope.”

  She shifted so she was facing him properly. “I have to confess, of all the things that happened today, the dreadful things that were said, the one that wounded me most was my Mother vowing to keep me from seeing you. And the thought of having ruined your chance of seeing Lord Alderbridge.” She shook her hair. Her long, dark hair hung wildly around her face. A stray sunflower hung halfway down her shoulder.

  He reached for it with his free hand, removing it from where it was and tucked it behind her ear.

  “Nobody will keep me from seeing you, as long as you wish to see me. And as I said, I will find another way to recover my memories. Do not worry about me. Or us.” He found himself cupping her face and leaned his head forward so their foreheads touched. He felt her reach up and wrap her arms around him and they sat this way for some time. Then, slowly, she moved back and looked at him. Their eyes locked and they smiled at one another. Oliver leaned forward, gently lifting her chin with one hand and their lips almost touched when–

  “My Lady,” George rushed inside, forcing them to part. It was clear to Oliver that George knew exactly what he had just interrupted, for he flushed red and stammered for a moment.

  “What is it, George? What has happened?” Seraphina asked as she worked to gather her loose hair back into a bun.

  “Yer Papa is on his way. Fornsham just done told me. He is worried out of his mind, he is. Ye had better make yerself presentable. And ye…” he pointed at Oliver, “ye, gattae!”

  Oliver started at him blankly, not understanding. “Use yer noggin. Ye cannae be seen with her. Get out. The window over yonder.” He pointed at a narrow window in the back of the shed.

  He rose, extending his hands to Seraphina and helping her up. The expression in her face was one of terror.

  “What am I to tell him?”

  Oliver took her hands. “Your Papa loves you. Apologize. Tell him you are sorry. He will forgive you. I am certain. Fathers can never stay angry at their daughters.”

  Suddenly, the image of the young girl appeared in his mind again. A little girl. Curly red hair, a gap between her front teeth. Beside her, and older man. Her father. His father.

  “She’s my Sister,” he muttered the words without thinking.

  “Henrietta? The girl?”

  Surprised that she remembered he nodded. “Yes. She is. She and my Father were so close.”

  “Laddie.” George said no more, but the urgency in the one word made Oliver realize one thing. There was no time to dwell in the memory that had just surfaced. He had to go. As did she.

  He cupped her face once more. “Tell him you are sorry. He will forgive you; I am certain of it. Just do not tell him about this.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “I won’t. Not now, anyhow. He would certainly forbid me from seeing you.”

  He nodded; surely, she was right.

  “Meet me tonight, at the paddock, when the sun goes down.”

  “I don’t know when I can get away.” There was a hint of panic in her voice.

  “I will wait. I will wait all night if I have to.”

  “Oh, Oliver,” she placed her hand on his forearms and looked up at his, her dark eyes sparkling.

  Without saying another word, he leaned forward and closed his eyes as their lips found one another. And for one moment, Oliver knew exactly who he was.

  The man who loved Lady Seraphina Camden. And for just that one moment, that was enough.

  Chapter 19

  Seraphina braced herself as she stood. She smoothed her dress as much as she could, aware of the stains from the dirt of the forest ground she’d sat upon. Her hair had come loose from its elaborate design, had bits of hay entangled in it and the floral crown she’d made with such care had fallen to pieces. She took it from her head and tossed it to one side, quickly arranging her hair in a bun at the back of her head.

  Then, as put together as she could make herself while in the dark, hot shed, she stepped into the light.

&
nbsp; George was standing at the door and glanced back into the shed.

  “The lad made his escape?”

  She nodded. “Out the window, like you said.”

  George gave a grunt and looked up ahead where her father was just arriving atop a horse. George motioned for her to walk up ahead toward her father, and she did as he indicated.

  “Thank you, George, for everything you’ve done for me.”

  The old man blinked without looking at her. “Lady Seraphina. I’ve known ye since ye were a wee tot. All but taught ye to ride the cuddies. I just hate to see yer in such a flap. Anything I can do for ye, I will.” He paused and then turned his head to face her at last. “And yer lad. Even the numpty he is.”

  She smiled, for while she knew the term numpty could be taken as an insult, George did not mean it as such, that much was clear. They stepped into the stable yard. Up ahead, her father had dismounted his horse and scanned the area for her.

  “You have taken to Oliver.”

  George smiled. “A good fellow he is. No stable hand, that much I can tell. But a good heart he’s got. But don’t ye go losing yer heid over the lad.”

  They locked eyes and she gave him a wane smile which caused him to sigh.

  “Anno. Too late fer all that. Ye already have.”

  “I have.”

  George said nothing more upon noticing that her father had spotted them. He had his hands rested onto his hips and shook his head as he looked her way. He did not call out nor made any movement beyond that.

  “Ye had best go to him.”

  She nodded and smiled at the groom once more and then headed toward her father. When she stood in front of him, she cleared her throat and looked into his eyes. There was fury there; it was evident not only by the way his eyes were narrowed but by the way his forehead was furrowed.

  “Papa, I—”

  He raised a hand and shook his head.

  “We will discuss your behavior later.” He waved one of the stable boys over with a horse already saddled and ready to go. It was Poppy, a kind-natured black mare she’d ridden for many years.

  “Get on your horse. We will ride back.”

  Without another word he clicked his tongue and his horse trotted forward as she rushed to mount Poppy.

  Seraphina rode beside her father through the field that led back to the Castle. He had yet to speak another word to her and she did not dare break the silence first. The sun was high in the sky still, for the hunt had commenced early in the morning.

  It would be hours before she could escape to be with Oliver once more. The thought of seeing him was all that kept her from spurning the horse into a gallop to run away once more—forever this time.

  If I run away, if I refuse to take whatever punishment Father has in mind for me, I give up my chance of ever seeing Oliver again.

  That thought, and that alone, kept her on her path a few paces behind her father. Up ahead, Vallant Castle came into view.

  They were almost on the path which led directly there when her father slowed his horse from a steady trot to a slow walk and motioned for her to ride up alongside him.

  As she did, she looked at him from the side. The deep furor was gone from his face and when he turned to face her, there was some of the old familiar kindness there once more.

  “I am sorry, Papa.”

  He shook his head. “You have a temper just like your Grandmother.”

  She smiled. Her father, who’d adored his mother, often told her how much like her grandmother she was. She’d known the old woman for only a few years before she’d passed. Still, Seraphina remembered her well. Always a sweet at the ready for her grandchildren, and always a dog in her lap. She’d inherited her love for pugs from her grandmother, along with her fiery temper.

  “I only wish you could learn to control it as she did,” he added, causing her smile to vanish.

  “I know, Papa. I just…Mama is…”

  He raised a hand. “Seraphina, I know what your Mother is like and how hard she is on you all. I do all I can for you and your Sisters. But you must, you must, help me. Was it really so difficult a request to be civil and cordial with Lord Alderbridge today?”

  She shook her head. “No, Papa. It was not. It was just that Mary, and then Mama, they got my bristles up and I simply could not contain myself. I said terribly unkind things about Lord Alderbridge. I will apologize.”

  Her father shook his head. “You will not have the opportunity. As I said, he is due to depart the country in a month’s time and he is setting off to London to prepare tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Her heart sank. If he was leaving so soon, Oliver would have no opportunity to speak with him or at least see him. Sensing the alarm in her voice, her father pursed his lips.

  “Is that a problem? I thought you would find it a great relief that he is most certainly out of your life now. Out of all of our lives, I imagine.”

  She wetted her lips as they got closer to the Castle. After considering for a moment she decided to tell her father the truth.

  “Oliver thought Lord Alderbridge might know him. The name appeared to invoke something within him.”

  Her father’s expression was unreadable and for a moment, he said nothing.

  “His memory is returning then?”

  “Bit by bit. It is not much, but perhaps with time.”

  Her father did not face her as they approached the Castle’s driveway.

  “Time. Yes, I supposed he will need more time.”

  Seraphina did not like the resigned tone in her father’s voice. Sudden panic rose inside of her chest. Her mother’s words haunted her.

  “Please do not send him away, Papa. He is not in any condition to be sent away. Not without his memories fully restored.”

  At last he turned to her. “I would not send him away. Not in his present condition.”

  She sighed with relief. Alas, her reprieve was a brief one.

  “However,” her father said as he turned his horse so they were face to face. “I do not wish for you to keep his company. If he believes Lord Alderbridge might know him, or have information about his identity, then I will write to Alderbridge in hopes he will be able to assist. You, however, are to stay away from him.”

  “But Papa!” The alarm in her voice was so evident, even to her own ears, that she forced herself to sound calmer. “I do not know what Mother has told you, but—”

  He raised a hand again, silencing her. “I have heard quite enough both from your mother and Mary. It is highly irregular for a lady to keep the company of a stable hand, as a friend or otherwise. He may remain here until he is sufficiently recovered or until other arrangements can be made. You, however, will keep your distance. Furthermore, I will see an end to your visits to the stables. I have tolerated your visits up to now, but no more. And you will apologize to your Mother.”

  Of all the requirements and stipulations, he had placed upon her, the last one set her bristles up the most.

  “Apologize to Mother? But Papa, she was utterly horrible to me, and Cynthia for that matter and—”

  “Enough, Seraphina. I will hear no more of it. She is your Mother and you will do as I say. Do you understand?”

  She did not reply but instead pouted as they went.

  “Otherwise, I will have no choice but to make other arrangements for you.”

  Her head spun around. “Arrangements? Such as?”

  He sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Just apologize to your Mother, remain away from the stables and the stable hand, and all will be well.”

  Seraphina’s temper was rearing its head, but she was able to maintain some sense of control.

  “Papa. I must know what other arrangements are looming in my future. What it is? Are you going to wed me to some horrible, old man in the far off countryside?”

  He shook his head. “It has not come to that just yet. No. However, your Mother has a mind to send you to Bristol with your aunt Margaretta.”

  “Hors
efeathers! No! Papa, you cannot send me to that vile woman.”

  “I do not intend to send you anywhere. Not until you are wed. As long as you faithfully do as I instructed, you shall remain here at Vallant Castle. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” she nodded, knowing already that she had no intention whatsoever to do as he had instructed. Yes, she would apologize to her mother. Yes, she would remain away from the stables. However, there was no way she would stop seeing Oliver.