Not Forgotten

by Elizabeth Johns

  “We cannot accompany you, with Meg so near to her confinement,” Waverley said, a trace of regret in his voice.

  “I would not ask it of you,” Amelia answered. “But I intend to go. My husband will not be taken from me on this, my wedding day.”

  Philip would have expected no less. He smiled and drew her up into his arms as Waverley discreetly stepped from the room and closed the door.

  “That’s my girl,” he whispered.

  “I will not be forgotten,” she said, as she pulled him down for another kiss.

  “Impossible.”

  Preview Gentlemen of Knights Series

  Duke of Knight

  Rowley Knight, Duke of Knighton, stood at the window of his study, hands clasped behind his back and stared out at the vast parkland which was largely concealed by the rain blowing sideways and striking the panes. He did not particularly notice the weather, for his mind was consumed with his responsibilities. It was a deuced nuisance, having four siblings, but he loved them in his own way—even if it was not a particularly affectionate one.

  Lord Heath, the second eldest, was probably now stumbling in from his night’s revelries in London. Rowley shook his head. Soon, he might have to intervene there, but he still had hopes that Heath would have sown his last wild oats – if he did not kill himself first.

  Lord Edmund was the third sibling, and Rowley worried about him for other reasons. He was entirely too pious and tender-hearted for his own good. One day, Rowley hoped to lure him away from trying to save his parishioners in the London slums to a safer parish where he himself owned the living.

  Then, there was Felix, who served on Wellington’s staff, and even though Rowley worried about him, he knew Wellington kept an eye out for his welfare. If only Napoleon would cooperate.

  His most pressing concern for the nonce, however, was his young sister, Eugenia. At sixteen years of age, she was turning into a young woman, and Rowley was at a loss as how to deal with her and the violent emotions that overtook her with no warning. After long deliberation, he had come to the decision to hire a companion-governess for her. Rowley did not want a new person, especially a woman, added to his household, but he could think of no other way—and he had tried.

  If his calculations were correct, he had about half an hour left before the woman’s arrival. Miss Lancaster had been thoroughly investigated and selected from several hundred women by Cummins, his man of business. None of those available from the various agencies had satisfied Cummins or Rowley, so he had found her upon the recommendation of his Aunt Violet, which was his only reservation. The girl was young and inexperienced; however, she was well educated and came from a good family which had fallen on hard times thanks to her father’s gaming habits. While not opposed to charitable works, it was not his primary concern. Edmund fulfilled that role for the Knighton Duchy. Row’s only care was the lady’s suitability for Eugenia—and for staying out of his way.

  The rain eased a little, and Rowley thought he detected the sounds of hooves on the gravel drive. He checked his pocket watch and noted with approval that at least the woman was timely. He could not abide tardiness.

  Watching as the party alighted from the carriage, it was difficult to obtain a satisfactory glimpse as the footmen efficiently ushered everyone into the house under umbrellas. Reluctantly, Rowley tried to prepare himself for this necessary intrusion upon his sanctum. If all went well, Eugenia’s entrée into womanhood would be guided by someone of the female sex and thus some measure of peace would return to his daily routine.

  The expected knock on the door came shortly afterwards.

  “Your guests have arrived, your Grace.”

  Rowley nodded and followed his butler, Banks, down the hall to the drawing room.

  “Your Grace, may I present Lady Hambridge, Lady Sybil Mattingly, and Miss Lancaster.”

  Rowley withheld his groan. His aunt could never resist the chance to matchmake. He made polite bows to the guests, and kissed his aunt on the cheek.

  “I trust your journey was comfortable?” Rowley asked, as he discreetly tried to see the new member of the household, but her bonnet was so large he could scarce see her face or her colouring, save one militant spark from her eyes.

  He knew Lady Sybil’s family and had little interest in the young girl just out of the schoolroom, who had not yet outgrown her spots or her childhood roundness.

  “As comfortable as a long carriage ride can be,” his aunt said as she sat down and waved the other two ladies to do the same. “It would help if you lived closer than Devon, but I suppose that cannot be helped.”

  Rowley did not bother to remark on the fact that the duchy and its holdings had been settled several hundred years before.

  “Would you care for some refreshments before you are shown to your rooms?”

  “Tea would be just the thing, Knighton.”

  Rowley glanced at Banks, who gave a nod and left the room. Rowley knew he would also direct the maids to prepare a room for the unexpected Lady Sybil, though truly, he did not know why he was surprised. This was not the first time his aunt had brought single ladies unannounced, in hopes of catching his attention. He refused to attend most events of the Season, so she brought ladies to him. It would make the business of arranging the post for Miss Lancaster more awkward, but so be it.

  “If you do not object, your Grace, I think I should like to refresh myself, first,” Miss Lancaster pronounced as she stood up.

  Rowley and his aunt exchanged glances. “Of course,” Rowley said, also rising, “I will have Mrs. Haynes show you to your room.”

  “I think I will join her,” Lady Sybil said shyly.

  When the ladies had gone, Rowley sat back down and leaned his head against the chair.

  “We have only been here five minutes, Knighton. Are you already bored of us?”

  He cast an elevated eyebrow at his aunt, and otherwise ignored the rhetorical question. “Does she know why she is here?”

  “Unless she is a widgeon, she does. I told her Lady Eugenia was in need of female guidance.”

  Rowley scoffed. “And she is in need of funds and a home, but does she realize she will not be chaperoned and be required to earn her keep?”

  “She will know soon enough, if she does not yet.”

  “And dare I ask why Lady Sybil is here?”

  “Sybil is also my god-daughter and they are friends from school. I thought it would be pleasant for them to spend a few more days together.”

  “Very well. As long as you do not attempt any tricks with a mind to matrimony.”

  “Hush! The ladies will return at any moment,” his aunt chastised.

  “Then I will have Eugenia sent for. The sooner I can establish if they will make shift together, the sooner I can attempt to return to my duties.”

  “Duty, duty, duty!” She threw up her hands. “When will you stop concerning yourself with everyone else and look to your own future?”

  “I have all the future I need,” he snapped coldly. “I do not wish to repeat an argument you will not win, Aunt.”

  “Oh, very well.” She tossed her hand, wafting a handkerchief in exasperation. “Do not say I did not try!” She looked heavenward, clearly affronted.

  “No one can fault your efforts,” he drawled, wishing this interview were at an end. He had no patience for feminine dramatics or wiles, and he sensed a guilt-ridden lecture was bound to follow. Banks entered with the tea tray and Rowley sent for Eugenia, anxious to avoid his aunt’s tirade and to have all settled. He refused to listen to one more lecture on why he needed a wife. He did not have to.

  ***

  “Why, Sybil, why him, of all people?” Emma asked as she frantically paced the room, tearing at the ribbons of her bonnet and tossing it on the bed.

  “Did Lady Hambridge not tell you who you would be working for?” Lady Sybil asked with a wrinkled brow. She removed her own bonnet, then tidied her locks in front of the glass.

  Emma shook her head. “I d
id not think to ask, either. How could I have been so stupid?”

  “You were rather preoccupied,” Lady Sybil suggested. “Maybe it will not be so bad. You will be spending most of your time with his sister, not him.”

  “Did you see the scowl on his face? And... and... how large he was?” she asked, her eyes wide with dismay.

  “He is just reserved—and he is not so very big. You came to his shoulders.” Lady Sybil pointed to her own shoulder to indicate, as if it was the same thing.

  “No, I cannot do this. He frightens me. His eyes…”

  “I think him rather handsome; and he is a duke, which makes up for a great deal.”

  “You may have him!” Emma retorted. “Wait—you stay here with me and woo the duke, and I may hide in the schoolroom with his sister.”

  “I would if I could, dearest Emma. I will be remaining a few days, at any rate, so you may form a better opinion whilst his aunt and I are here. Besides, they gave you a lovely room, which means they intend to treat you better than a servant.”

  Emma bit her lower lip as she looked around at the beautiful white and pale blue room, decorated more finely than hers had been before...the money was all gone. “I suppose so.”

  “Take a deep breath and let us go back down for tea. Everything is better after tea.”

  Emma allowed herself to be ushered back down to the drawing room. She did not know how she was going to bear this. Her nature was neither meek nor subservient, and she had witnessed the Duke’s dictatorial, haughty manner before. Would he remember her? It was improbable, but her feelings towards him were tainted; equally, it was unlikely she would find another post as lucrative as this. Swallowing her pride, she held her head high as she entered the drawing room. She would have to force herself to bite her tongue and avoid the Duke as much as possible.

  “Oh, you have returned,” Lady Hambridge said as the Duke rose to his feet.

  “I trust everything was satisfactory with your chamber?” he asked, clearly assessing her.

  Please do not let him remember me. Please do not let him remember me.

  “Yes, your Grace.” She remembered to curtsy just in time.

  “Excellent. May I present to you my sister, Lady Eugenia?”

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady.” She curtsied.

  “Miss Lancaster will be your new companion and governess, Genie.”

  “Oh! How exciting! I have never had a female companion before, except for Nurse, and she does not count since she is more than twice my age. Did you know I have four brothers and not one sister?” she asked Emma.

  “I did not. I was blessed with a sister. It will be a pleasure to be your companion.”

  “Thank you, Rowley! What a wonderful surprise, to be sure!” the girl exclaimed.

  Everyone sat down, and Emma could feel the Duke’s eyes upon her. It was all she could do not to squirm under his scrutiny and glare back at him. Instead, she focused her gaze on her new charge. Lady Eugenia was a gangly youth, just coming into her womanhood, with bright blue eyes and silky black curls. She was lively, and full of questions for Lady Hambridge and Lady Sybil. Emma used the opportunity to study and observe, but so did the Duke. He said little and stared, and she could not ignore him, although she tried. His presence filled the room like a thick smoke that permeated all of a person’s senses—suffocating them. Could he not leave and let her become acquainted with Eugenia?

  “Miss Lancaster, may I have a few moments of your time?”

  Emma looked up in surprise.

  “To discuss the particulars?” he prompted.

  “Yes, of course.” Emma’s heart began to race as she followed him into a study. What was there to discuss? She knew she would be paid two hundred pounds per annum, plus a clothing allowance for attending ton events when chaperoning Lady Eugenia.

  The room was smaller and she felt confined. His presence was stronger in here, if that were possible, and she longed to escape or thrust her head out of the window for some fresh air.

  “Do you think you will be content here?” he asked, disturbing her thoughts. He had not said happy, but content, she noticed.

  “I shall try, your Grace,” she replied, endeavouring to avoid making eye contact with him. He saw too much. “Your sister seems a very pleasant girl. I think we shall deal quite well together.”

  “I am glad to hear it. Nothing is more important to me than my family.”

  Emma could not resist meeting his eyes, then. She knew all about how he dealt with people who crossed him and his beloved family. She looked away before he saw the hatred in her eyes and dismissed her on the spot.

  “Of course, your Grace,” she muttered in a forced voice. She would have to control her emotions better than this. If only she had known and could have prepared herself.

  “And the pay is satisfactory?”

  “It is very generous, your Grace.”

  An awkward silence followed before he finally spoke again. “Miss Lancaster, I am a man of few words and prefer my own company for the most part. However, if you ever need anything, do not hesitate to ask.”

  “Thank you, your Grace.” Emma stood to leave, assuming this uncomfortable interview was at an end.

  “There is one more thing. Do I know you from somewhere?”

  Afterword

  Author’s note: British spellings and grammar have been used in an effort to reflect what would have been done in the time period in which the novels are set. While I realize all words may not be exact, I hope you can appreciate the differences and effort made to be historically accurate while attempting to retain readability for the modern audience.

  Thank you for reading Not Forgotten. I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please help other readers find this book:

  1. This ebook is lendable, so send it to a friend who you think might like it so she or he can discover me, too.

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  Acknowledgments

  There are many, many people who have contributed to making my books possible.

  My family, who deals with the idiosyncrasies of a writer’s life that do not fit into a 9 to 5 work day.

  Dad, who reads every single version before and after anyone else—that alone qualifies him for sainthood.

  Wilette and Anj, who take my visions and interprets them, making them into works of art people open in the first place.

  My team of friends who care about my stories enough to help me shape them before everyone else sees them.

  Heather who helps me say what I mean to!

  And to the readers who make all of this possible.

  I am forever grateful to you all.

  Also by Elizabeth Johns

  Surrender the Past

  Seasons of Change

  Seeking Redemption

  Shadows of Doubt

  Second Dance

  Through the Fire

  Melting the Ice

  With the Wind

  Out of the Darkness

  After the Rain

  Ray of Light

  Moon and Stars

  First Impressions

  The Governess

  On My Honour

 

 

 
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