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A Vixen For The Devilish Duke (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

Page 22

by Olivia Bennet


  She squeezed her sister’s hand again and smiled.

  The butler announced that they had a visitor but Dorothea did not pay it much attention. After all, she very likely would not know this visitor anyway. She kept her eyes on her sister instead, even though Adelia was looking eagerly toward the door.

  “Your Grace,” Adelia said, her voice sounding breathless as she shot to her feet. The man who had entered the room was rather tall, distinguished looking, and had the brightest green eyes Dorothea had ever seen. Of course, she could not remember all the green eyes she’d ever seen but she was quite sure these were the greenest in existence. Those eyes twinkled at her.

  “It is good to see you back on your feet, Lady Dorothea,” he said and Dorothea realized after half a second that he was speaking to her. It still felt strange to be referred to as ‘Lady’ anything. She still gave a little internal start every time it happened.

  “Er…than-thank you.” She cleared her throat and blushed, unable to look at him. He was truly magnificent to look at, and his smile was so kind. For some reason, now that he was here, she felt instantly safe. No, worse than that, she wanted to curl up against him and burrow into his chest.

  Even with her memory gone, she knew that was no way to behave. Especially since her sister was clearly smitten with him, too. And apparently, he with her. He took Adelia’s hand and kissed it and they sat on the same love seat, although with an appropriate amount of space between them. She could not help staring at him, and he occasionally glanced her way.

  “Dorothea?” she jumped at the name, belatedly realizing that she was being called. She turned toward her mother and by the look in her eyes, it was not the first time she had called Dorothea’s name.

  “Would you like to go and lie down now?” her voice was so gentle and understanding that Dorothea blinked back tears. Clearly her mother had noticed her ogling and was offering her a way out of the visit without embarrassing her. Dorothea wanted to apologize and promise to do better but then that would render her mother’s subtlety moot. She really did not want to leave the room, however, so she shook her head.

  “I’m not tired.” She murmured, letting her eyes say the rest. Very deliberately she turned her body away so that she was not facing the Duke and began to speak to her father, asking him questions about her childhood that might distract her from her apparent obsession with the Duke.

  “Was I a good child? Or was I a holy terror?” she smiled to take the sting out of the words.

  “As a child?” her father smiled indulgently. “You were scandalously spoiled. Always wanted your own way. You would throw such loud tantrums that nobody could get anything done until you had what you wanted.”

  The Duke laughed. “Frankly, until quite recently, you hadn’t changed much from that description.”

  Dorothea could not imagine herself behaving in such a manner. From the dark look on her face, it seemed Adelia agreed with her. She smiled at her sister in gratitude. “Well, I can assure you, all that is firmly behind me now.” She expected Adelia to return her smile but she just looked away, seeming to be quite miffed still. Dorothea was grateful that she was that annoyed on her behalf.

  Her mother laughed. “I remember when we first learned about Adelia. You were quite apoplectic. I really worried that you might never get along. But look at you now! Thick as thieves.” Her face was glowing with happiness and Dorothea was glad that something good had come of her forgetfulness.

  Her eyes fell on the Duke, and found that he was looking at her with a beetled brow. She raised her own eyebrows at him and he looked away, shaking his head. She continued to look at him, wondering what was the matter and also why she felt such a compelling need to go to him and find out. To reassure him that whatever it was, it would be all right.

  She shook herself, darting a glance at her sister to see if she’d witnessed Dorothea’s momentary madness but Adelia was still glaring at their mother. Dorothea heaved an internal sigh of relief before turning back to face Lady Cornhill.

  “Mother, I think I am tired after all. May I be excused?”

  Lady Cornhill smiled, getting to her feet. “Come then, dear child. Let me escort you to your chambers.”

  Dorothea stood up with a smile, feeling a warmth spreading in her chest at the care her mother was showing her. It meant a lot to her, even if the lady was a virtual stranger to her.

  Lady Cornhill looped her hand through Dorothea’s arm as they walked, smiling happily at her daughter with contentment. “I must say, Dorothea, I am very proud of the lady you are becoming. There was a time I might have despaired for you…wondered where we went wrong. Especially when you were less than welcoming to your sister. But I see now that there was nothing to worry about and I am just so proud of both of you and how you have helped each other in this difficult time. It gives me such hope for our family.”

  Dorothea simply nodded, not knowing what to say.

  “And I know you still carry a torch for His Grace but I feel confident that you too will soon meet your match. Someone who will return your feelings. And then both my daughters will be happy.”

  Dorothea nodded, swallowing painfully. She wasn’t so sure about that but now was not the time to cast doubts.

  Chapter 26

  Surprise!

  Harry was feeling a little unsettled. He did not know why but ever since the accident, he sensed that Adelia was different. He attributed it to the fact that her sister had a serious accident right in front of her. For surely that was likely to change anyone. To add to it, her sister had lost her memory.

  They were all hoping it was temporary but there was no real way to know. Considering everything he had been through with his mother, he could understand her moodiness.

  Still, they had been on the cusp of something when they had emerged from the stables and Harry wanted to go back there. The world was an unpredictable place and he just wanted to have this one thing for himself.

  He wanted to do it right, however. He had an idea of how to lift Adelia’s mood but he did not want to say anything in case it did not come to fruition. Snatching up a piece of paper, he wrote her a note, folded it, and called a footman.

  “Have this delivered to Cornhill estate, won’t you?” he said.

  “Yes, Your Grace.” The footman took the note, bowed smartly and took off.

  Harry leapt to his feet and retired to his quarters where he packed a few clothes.

  “Where are you going, Your Grace?” Michel startled him as he stepped quietly into the room.

  “I’m off to London,” he replied absently, as he packed a few shirts. Michel came up to him and pushed him out of the way before taking up the packing.

  “London? You have some business to attend? Or is it parliament?”

  “I am going to meet with Adelia’s cousin, Alexander Raby.”

  Michel paused in his folding to give the Duke a sidelong glance. “And why are you doing that?”

  “Because I intend to ask for Adelia’s hand in marriage and I want him to be there.”

  “Mmm. That is thoughtful.”

  “I thought so.”

  “For if she would have refused you before, she will not be able to now.”

  Harry jostled Michel with his elbow in retaliation and then huffed a laugh. Michel just smiled with gentle amusement as he continued to pack for the Duke. Harry went to the door and called a footman to him.

  “Go and have the groom and tiger prepare, for we are off to London as soon as I have gathered provisions.”

  “Yes, Your Grace. Right away.”

  The footman hurried away and Harry watched him go, an indulgent smile on his face. Then he dashed to the kitchen to ask Mrs. Belvedere to prepare something for him to eat on his journey. He much preferred to carry his own meals rather than rely on the dubious hygiene of the inns on the road. He also carried his own sheets, as he was not about to subject himself to any lice-ridden bedding.

  Once Michel had finished packing the Duke’s portmant
eau, he handed it over to a footman who carried it to the carriage, where one of the kitchen maids was depositing a basket of provisions. Harry turned to his butler to let him know he should be back in a few days, before jumping in the carriage and hitting the roof for the coachman to depart.

  He leaned back, watching the passing scenery and thought about what he might say to Alexander Raby. No doubt Adelia had apprised him of her change in fortune, but he knew she still valued him. She regarded him as closely as a brother. Harry wanted to honor that when he asked for her hand.

  Slowly his eyes slipped closed with the gentle swaying of the carriage, lulling him to sleep.

  * * *

  Alexander was worried. When Adelia had come to him, searching for her mother and father, he had dismissed her qualms but as soon as she left, he sent word to the parson to find out exactly what had happened to the Rabys. He had received a reply from the parson that disturbed him mightily.

  Dear Alexander,

  I write with much sorrow in my heart to tell you that both your aunt and uncle have taken to the mines. They sold the farm and moved away saying that they could not stay here anymore. I asked if they would be in touch with either of you and they said it was better if you did not know where they were.

  I am at a loss to explain this behavior and do hope that you can shed some light on this matter.

  Yours faithfully,

  Pastor Johns

  Alexander had read the letter many times, but each time it made even less sense than the time before. He could not imagine what his parents had been thinking. The farm was a much better income than working in the mines. With just two mouths to feed, the farm should have been more than sufficient to their needs.

  There’s more to this than they are saying.

  Much as he tried to get rid of the thought, he could not. If he could have gotten the time off, he would have gone back to the village to find out what exactly was going on. But that was many days of no pay and he could not afford that right now. Not when his wife had a bun in the oven.

  * * *

  Harry drew up outside his London townhouse and peered out at the miserable weather. He did not want to waste any time. He was eager to find Mr. Raby and make his offer. But he was exhausted from the long journey and he feared he would not make much sense if he tried to speak to the messenger now. So he alighted from his carriage, his tiger on hand with an umbrella right away and crossed the sidewalk to his doorstep.

  His London residence had a skeleton staff, just a housekeeper, a footman, and a maid of all work in full-time employ. But when he came to Town, they might retain another servant or two should it be necessary. The footman opened the door to him and took his coat and hat.

  “Welcome to London, Your Grace.”

  “Thank you, Henri. I trust Cook is making something to restore me after that arduous journey.”

  “Yes, Your Grace. Perhaps I may bring you some tea and brandy while you wait?”

  “Very good, Henri. I shall freshen up first, however.”

  “Of course, Your Grace.”

  Harry took the stairs two at a time to his chamber, and flinging his cravat onto the bed, he bent over the basin and washed his face before exchanging his boots for slippers and heading back down the stairs to his study. He savored his brandy-laced tea as Mrs. Phillips gave him a rundown of the goings on in the neighborhood and he looked through his London correspondence. It was mostly invitations to events; even after all this time he still got them. He supposed that as long as he was an unmarried Duke, the invitations would continue to pour in.

  Not for much longer then.

  “Will you be eatin’ in ‘ere Your Grace or shall I have the dining room set?”

  Harry shook his head, “Here is fine. Bring me a tray of soup and bread and that should do me.”

  “Ach! I have a pork loin gently roasting with some potatoes. For desert, I have made you a nice sherbet.”

  Harry nodded approvingly, “I thank you, Mrs. Phillips, especially with the short notice.”

  She waved a hand airily, “Oh no, Michel did send a note for us to expect you so we had about half a day’s notice.”

  Harry smiled. “Well, I appreciate it.”

  “All right, then, you just rest and I shall have your dinner to you presently.”

  Harry leaned back, put his legs up on the pouf and enjoyed his drink.

  * * *

  There was a man speaking to the haberdasher when Alexander got to work the next day. He was tall, imposing, clearly well-to-do, and Alexander wondered what he was doing in Cheapside.

  Maybe he’s lost.

  The haberdasher caught sight of him and his eyes lit up. “Alexander, mate!” he clapped Alexander on the back which was quite disconcerting as the man barely paid attention to him unless he wanted to send him somewhere. “I was just telling your friend here how close we are, and of course I would be willing to give you the time off to attend your sister’s betrothal.”

  Mr. Finn’s eyes were gleaming with greed and Alexander’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the gentleman, “What is this about?”

  The man smiled at him as if they knew each other and held out his hand to be shaken. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Harry Abberton, Duke of Rosemond.”

  Alexander’s confusion cleared. Adelia had mentioned him.

  “Ah, I see you know who I am.” The Duke smiled as if he had won a prize. Alexander nodded jerkily, still wondering what a Duke was doing here.

  “I wonder if we can talk…” he glanced at Mr. Finn, “privately.”

  “Oh, ah…” Alexander jerked in surprise before looking around doubtfully. There weren’t many places in Cheapside that offered privacy. The Duke seemed to understand his dilemma.

  “My carriage is just outside.”

  Alexander nodded again and followed him as he exited the shop. A carriage was waiting outside, ordinary looking except for the quality of the horses pulling it. The coachman jumped down and opened the door of the carriage. The Duke climbed in and then waited for Alexander. He followed him in, sinking back into the unbelievably soft seats, and trying not to show how out of his depth he was.

  “I don’t know how much your cousin has told you about me…” the Duke paused as though waiting for Alexander to fill in the blanks. He simply shook his head.

  “Not much. She told me you are the one who found her…er, parents?”

  “Yes. They were acquaintances of mine. Well, your cousin and I have developed a…tendresse for each other and I mean to ask for her hand in marriage.”

  There was a pregnant pause.

  “And why are you telling me?”

  “Because I wish you to be there when I do it. You are her family, too. Just because she has discovered that the people she grew up with are not her blood, does not mean they are not still family.”

  Alexander glanced at him. “And you are amenable to this way of thinking?”

  “It is not my place to tell her who she considers family.”

  Alexander nodded slowly. Nobody ever could tell Adelia anything. She went her own way, regardless of what anyone else thought. He almost smiled to think how she would wind these people up in knots with her stubbornness. “I expect you thought she would be grateful.” He pursed his lips so as not to laugh.

  The Duke shook his head. “Not really. Your cousin is no respecter of persons is she?”

  The smile broke out on Alexander’s face of its own volition. “No, she is not. Did she send you?”

  The Duke shook his head. “I mean to surprise her.”

  Alexander nodded his understanding. “Well, I would love to come but I really can’t afford the time off and I cannot leave my wife alone.”

  “Well, of course not. I was thinking, that seeing as you are about to start a family; you might want to do that somewhere with more…space. I have a crofter’s cottage and a bit of land I can offer you. You did grow up as a farmer after all, did you not?”

  Alexander could not hide his su
rprise. “I beg pardon?”

  The Duke inclined his head. “Come back with me. Adelia is your only remaining family now that your aunt and uncle cannot be located. Do you not want to be close to her?”

  Alexander was confused. There was no way that Adelia’s new family would be amenable to this. And he did not want to be a secret.

 

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