Bachelor Duke

by Mary Nichols

Lord Myers rose from his armchair by the hearth and turned to greet them. He seemed rounder and ruddier than ever. ‘Why, Lady Myers, whom have we here? It cannot be little Sophie, can it?’

  ‘Yes, my lord, it is,’ Sophie answered, dipping her knee. ‘Lady Myers and I met by chance on the road…’

  ‘And she has such a tale to tell you would never believe,’ Lady Myers put in. ‘But we shall hear it later. Now, I will take her up to her room and see that she is comfortable, then we will have supper, and then we will talk. Come, Sophie.’

  She led Sophie across the room and up a flight of stairs at the end, which led up to a gallery that ran all the way round the great hall. Several doors led from it. ‘That is the dining room,’ her ladyship said. ‘It has a wonderful aspect over the countryside. That is Lord Myers’s study and dressing room. The one next door is our bedchamber and the rest are guest rooms. On the other side of the gallery are the servants quarters.’ She flung open a door where a maid was already making up a bed. ‘This will be your room. There is hot water in the jug and towels on the rail. Can you manage without a maid?’

  ‘Oh, yes, easily.’

  ‘Then I will leave you. Come to the dining room when you hear the gong. We keep country hours so it is supper, not dinner, but I do not suppose you mind that. You look done in.’ She stopped and took Sophie’s hand. ‘You are very welcome, child.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Sophie said, but Lady Myers was already closing the door behind her.

  Sophie sank down on the bed and put her head in her hands. She was so weary, so very, very weary she did not know how she was going to sit through supper and stay awake. Not only sit through it, but make conversation and she knew what that would entail: explanations, detailed explanations that she would have to provide for courtesy’s sake. And the biggest question of all would be ‘Why?’ And how could she answer that?

  What was happening at Belfont House now? Had they accepted her disappearance or were they searching for her? Would the Duke understand why she had to do it? Would he be sorry or would he simply shrug his shoulders and console himself with his mistress? Were they laughing at her, the naïve chit of twenty-one who thought she could hold a Duke to ransom? Why did she torment herself thinking about him? Why remember a couple of kisses that had meant nothing at all, except as a prelude to a proposal that was as insincere as it was unacceptable? But, oh, how sweet those kisses had been! They had stirred her insides until she was a quivering mass of desire.

  Resolutely she pushed the memories from her and began on her toilette, dragging off the black silk and donning her old lilac muslin, which was the only other dress she had brought with her. The lovely gowns Harriet had helped her buy had been left behind, symbols of his Grace’s generosity and her dependence. She would have to buy her own clothes in future. What future? It was a blank page, nothing was written on it, nor would there be until she began to live it. She stood before the mirror and brushed her hair, tying it back with a ribbon. The gong sounded as she finished and she took a deep breath and made her way to the dining room.

  As she guessed, she was made to repeat the story she had told Lady Myers while they ate and, on his lordship’s gentle probing, to enlarge upon it, little by little, until they had the whole sorry saga.

  ‘My dear, I do think you were too hasty in turning his Grace down,’ Lady Myers said, helping herself to more vegetables. It might be called supper and not dinner, but the table was laden with roast beef, chicken dishes and several different vegetables. ‘He is an undoubted catch and you would be the envy of every unmarried gel in the country. You could surely have come to an accommodation with him over Lady Colway.’

  ‘I did not see why I should.’

  ‘Lady Colway ain’t important,’ Lord Myers said. ‘From what I heard, the affair ended over a year ago when his Grace found her with his cousin. He wouldn’t go back to her.’

  ‘Why did he not say so, then? Why let me believe…?’

  ‘Pride, I shouldn’t wonder. Pride, same as you have, coming from the same stock.’

  ‘But even if you had turned him down, that was no reason to leave,’ her ladyship put in. ‘You were set up there. I felt pleased that I could leave you in good hands. And you had to run away and go to Lord Langford, of all people! He is much worse than your father, you know. Since we have been home we have seen for ourselves how bad everything is and his poor wife never let out of the house. The only time I ventured to call, she sent a message she was not at home, but I know very well she was. She was too afraid to admit me.’

  ‘I saw her,’ Sophie said, remembering her mother being in the same state on more than one occasion and hiding herself from public view. ‘She had a poor bruised face; she would not want you to see it.’

  ‘As bad as that, is it? Are you not glad now that you were turned away and met me coming home?’

  ‘Oh, indeed I am. But I cannot understand why Lord Langford is so against me. I have done nothing—’

  ‘Except to look like your mama and she was a Dersingham. He cannot forget that.’

  ‘Is it true they were on opposite sides in the war between Charles the First and parliament?’ she asked, the food growing cold on her plate.

  ‘Yes.’ His lordship was the one to answer her. ‘The Lord Langford of the time stayed loyal to the king and his home was sequestered by the Roundheads and given to the Dersinghams as a reward for their support in the war. It was renamed Dersingham Park and Lord Langford was relegated to living in a nearby manor house, the house in which you were born. The family tried to get their property back after the Restoration, but were unsuccessful, though some of the land was returned to them…’

  ‘Oh. I see. And when Mama met and fell in love with Papa, the hate all started up again. Why did they not see it as a way of mending old grievances and becoming friends?’

  Lord Myers laughed. ‘Because the present Lord Langford wanted your mama for himself. The two young men met her when she was out riding. She had taken a tumble from her horse and they stopped to help her. They did not know who she was at the time, but even when they did find out, it made no difference, probably added piquancy to their meetings. The three of them would go riding together and little by little they became close, both young men vying for her hand. When your mother chose your father, the rift between the brothers became irreparable.’

  ‘I did not know that. Mama never said.’ She was thoughtful, thinking of her mother being young and in love. Had she had any difficulty in choosing between the young men or had it always been Papa? ‘But my uncle called Mama a dreadful name.’

  ‘Pride again. He would not admit he had been hurt. Pride is all very well in the right place, but in the wrong, it can do untold damage.’

  ‘And you think I am too proud?’

  ‘Too hasty, perhaps. You know the Duke of Belfont has a great deal to contend with in his work for the Prince Regent and there are evil men at work. He does not need the distraction of a ward who defies him and sets off to travel the countryside unaccompanied.’ He paused to smile at her. ‘I say this in a spirit of friendship and concern,’ he said. ‘And my advice is to return to him and try to be content.’

  ‘How can I? He will not have me back now.’

  ‘Oh, I think he will. I will wager he is even now searching for you and becoming more and more concerned that you have fallen into the hands of those evil men I spoke of.’

  ‘Count Cariotti and Mr Jessop,’ she murmured.

  ‘What do you know of them?’ he demanded sharply.

  ‘My father called the Count his friend, but I am sure he was responsible for Papa’s death and he is afraid I have put something about it in my book. And as for Mr Jessop, he is the Duke’s heir and, according to Lady Harley will do almost anything to make sure the Duke does not marry and have a son. They seem to have joined forces.’

  ‘That is dangerous knowledge, my child, and all the more reason to return to the protection of the Duke, who knows who his enemies are and how to deal with
them. I will make the arrangements, shall I? Lady Myers and I are leaving for India two days hence and must leave for Plymouth tomorrow. We cannot accompany you, but I will make sure you have a reliable escort. What do you say?’

  ‘If I am out of the way, will it not be easier for his Grace to deal with his enemies and do the work he has to do?’

  ‘Not if he is worrying about you, and, knowing the Duke, I know that will be the case.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Sleep on it and tomorrow we will talk again.’

  She did not think she would sleep ever again, but she was so exhausted that she fell into a deep slumber almost as soon as her head touched the pillow. And she dreamed. She dreamed of Naples and her dead parents who had loved each other so disastrously. She dreamed of the Count and the Duke, locked in combat, not over her but a sheaf of papers. She dreamed of Harriet, whom she had come to love like a sister. But most of all she dreamed again of the man who had carried her to bed and kissed her so tenderly. It seemed like he was saying goodbye for ever. She was crying softly when the maid sent by Lady Myers drew the curtains and flooded the room with light.

  James stood outside the gates of Langford Manor just as Sophie had done the afternoon before, but he was not alone and not on foot as she had been. His elegant travelling coach stood on the road. His groom was on the driving seat and his sister sitting inside, waiting for him. But he had had the same reception as Sophie, the same tirade, this time accompanied by foul language and threats. Sophie was not there, the man had made that clear enough, so where was she?

  Wearily he climbed in beside Harriet. ‘She isn’t here,’ he said. ‘The rotter said he hadn’t seen her, but I know he was lying. He sent her away.’

  ‘Poor Sophie. How miserable she must be, to have come all this way and be turned away. I cannot even begin to imagine how she must feel. What are we going to do now?’

  ‘Look for her, what else?’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘On the road—someone must have seen her if she was on foot.’

  ‘But that was yesterday. She would have needed lodgings for the night and would have made for the nearest town, I think.’

  He ordered the coachman to drive slowly in the direction of Baldock and to stop whenever he saw a habitation where enquiries might be made, but when they reached the town late in the afternoon, they had learned nothing. No one had seen a young lady walking alone. He enquired at all the inns, but drew a blank.

  ‘She must have been taken up by someone,’ he said. ‘Anything could have happened to her. Anything.’ He sat in the coach and sank his head into his hands. ‘Oh, Sophie, what have I done? Instead of protecting you, I drove you away.’

  ‘It is no good blaming yourself,’ Harriet said. ‘And remember, Sophie is used to being out on her own. She did it all the time when she was in Italy. I do believe she can take care of herself.’

  ‘No, she can’t.’ He was almost shouting. ‘She is an innocent. She trusts everyone, even that no-good Italian. If he has a hand in her disappearance…’

  ‘You said you did not think he had.’

  ‘I don’t know what to think.’

  ‘Nor can you, while you are so tired. Let us go home.’

  ‘Home? You think I can go home when Sophie might be in trouble—’

  ‘I meant Dersingham. It isn’t above a dozen miles away. I am fagged to death and hungry too, and I know you are. We will change and have a meal and then decide. You never know, she might have gone there.’

  He brightened. ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘It is possible.’

  But she was not there. They sat morosely over a meal hastily prepared by the astonished housekeeper and considered what to do. ‘The Myers!’ Harriet said suddenly. ‘They live close. She would have known that and gone to them.’

  He brightened, then sank into gloom again. ‘Haven’t they gone to India?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I forgot. But I disremember the exact date, so they might not have left. And would Sophie have known it? It would do no harm to call.’

  ‘Very well, we will go there first thing in the morning and then I am afraid we will have to return to London.’

  ‘You are surely not giving up?’

  ‘No, I am not. But if she is not with the Myers, I think her only recourse would be to return to London to fetch her manuscript and see Murray again. She would need money.’

  ‘Of course! Why did we not think of that?’

  ‘If she is still missing, there is nothing for it but to recruit assistance. It will mean her disappearance becoming public knowledge, but there is no help for that. She must be found.’

  Harriet reached out and put her hand over her brother’s. ‘Do not despair, my dear. Sophie will be found.’

  Found, yes, he supposed eventually she would be, but would she be alive or dead? He stood up and began pacing the room. ‘Where is she? How is she managing? I cannot help thinking of all the dreadful things that could befall her. She could be set upon by thieves, cheated by landlords, taken for a lightskirt out for adventure, used and then—’ Sophie’s piquant face, colourless in death, swam before him.

  ‘Don’t, James. Don’t torture yourself. Remember, Sophie has not been brought up in the restrictive atmosphere of genteel drawing rooms, she has been used to looking after herself. She is strong and brave and resourceful.’

  ‘And that is more than half the problem. She will rush headlong into things without thinking. When I get her home…’

  ‘When you get her home, James, you will treat her kindly. No more bullocking.’

  He looked at his sister and gave her a wry grin. ‘I will treat her as if she were made of fragile porcelain, even if I am tempted to wring her neck.’

  ‘Please do not do either, if you want to keep her by your side, that is.’

  ‘Of course I do. I love her to distraction in spite of her headstrong ways, or perhaps because of them, I do not know. All I know is that she is different from any other woman I have ever met, that she has hold of my heart and I shall not have a moment’s peace until I have her in my arms again and I do not intend ever to let her go.’

  She smiled. ‘Tell her that, James. It might make all the difference. Now, I do not know about you, but I need my bed.’

  ‘Do you think Sophie has a bed tonight? Can I go to bed and sleep when she may be lying in a hedgerow somewhere?’

  ‘You must try. If you do not, you will be good for nothing tomorrow.’

  He conceded she was right and took himself to his room, where, in the absence of his valet, he stripped off his clothes and flung them on a chair before climbing between the sheets. What a day it had been! What a summer! Oh, Sophie, you came into my life like a whirlwind and you have stirred up my very soul. I cannot live without you, cannot sleep, eat or think without you. I should be out combing the countryside for you. Why do I think you are not far away? Why can I feel your nearness in my bones? Wherever you are, I will find you… He did not intend to sleep, did not think he could, but after two days and a night of travelling with only snatched minutes of sleep in the coach, exhaustion overcame him.

  The London-bound stage left Baldock at seven in the morning and at a quarter to the hour Sophie was standing in the inn yard, saying goodbye to Lord Myers who, in spite of being extremely busy with last-minute preparations for his own journey, had insisted on accompanying her to the inn. He had paid her fare and that of Madison, the head groom who would be looking after his stables in his absence, and Annie, one of the maids who was to be part of the skeleton staff left behind to look after the house. Madison was a big, muscular man used to physical labour and Annie a well-built girl with clear blue eyes and fair hair screwed into a tight bun under her plain straw bonnet. Once they had safely delivered her to Belfont House, they would return to their usual duties. Sophie knew his lordship was thinking of her safety and reputation, as if that were not already lost beyond redemption, but she could not help feeling like a parcel.
/>   Did she really want to be delivered in that fashion? Did she really wish to return to Belfont House at all? Lord Myers had persuaded her there was nothing else for it and she needed to retrieve that manuscript, but she did not think she could stay. She would perhaps no longer be welcome there. After all, she had behaved in a way that would have every right-thinking matron in polite society throwing up her hands in horror. Harriet, for all her tolerance, would be one of them. As for the Duke, he would have nothing more to do with her. He would never believe she had managed to travel alone in safety and would undoubtedly believe she had made an assignation. With Count Cariotti perhaps; after all, he already believed that of her. No, there was no going back.

  ‘Now, you will be quite safe with Madison and Annie,’ Lord Myers told her, as the coach rattled into the inn yard to have its horses changed and take on new passengers. ‘They have been in my service for years. If you need to leave the coach at any of the stops, Annie will accompany you, otherwise stay in your seat. You are due to arrive in the capital in the early afternoon.’

  The coachman was calling for the passengers to board and Sophie turned to thank him. ‘I do not know how to repay you,’ she said, then gave a little laugh, though laughing was something she was finding increasingly difficult. ‘I once told Lady Myers I would repay her from the proceeds of my book, and that is all I can offer.’

  ‘My dear child, I do not want repaying, except to know that you are safe. Lady Myers has given you our direction in India, hasn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, I will write, I promise.’ The coachman was becoming impatient and she turned from him to climb aboard. Annie got in beside her and Madison clambered up beside the driver, and they were away. In six hours she would be back in London with nothing achieved by her escapade except more opprobrium. She had been awakened very early; as the other passengers did not seem inclined to conversation, she sat back and closed her eyes.

  She was hardly aware of the stops to change horses, not as frequent as they would have been with the mail, considering the stage did not proceed at the breakneck speed of the mailcoach. Lord Myers had considered sending her on one of those, but as it left at one in the morning, he had decided against it. Sophie was agreeable—not only would it cost him less, but she was in no hurry to reach their destination. She knew she would be in for the biggest jobation of her life. If only she could creep into the house and out again with her manuscript without encountering the Duke, she would be saved the humiliation, but she did not think that was possible. There were dozens of servants, one of them was bound to see her and inform his Grace.