Mending the Duke's Heart: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  Miss Ward stood before him, opening and closing her mouth a few times, clearly stunned. He supposed he deserved such a reaction; he wasn’t usually this pleasant.

  “You look very lovely tonight, Miss Ward, if I might be allowed to say so,” he couldn’t help but compliment in a slightly husky voice.

  Miss Ward looked down at her gown as if noticing it for the first time.

  “I do?” she stammered.

  Her reaction sent another wave of warmth all through the Duke as he studied her realization that he thought her attractive. A blush rose instantly to her cheeks again, and he couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear, satisfied with the reaction he had caused.

  “Of course you do,” Lady Pamala announced, strolling into the office. “I had Abigail do her hair as well. Doesn’t she just look mesmerizing?”

  Lady Pamala was wearing a light green satin dress with white feathers in her light brown hair. She had her own long white gloves on and held out another to Miss Ward.

  “I hope these will due for the night. There is a bit of a stain on the tip of the right pinky, but hopefully, no one will notice it. They were the only spares I had. It’s a good thing I didn’t remember to tell Abigail to toss them out,” she explained as she passed the gloves over the Miss Ward.

  “No one will notice a smudged pinky,” the Duke assured both ladies.

  “Tomorrow morning, we will get you some proper gloves for the ball,” Lady Pamala announced.

  “These are fine enough for me,” Miss Ward protested.

  “Not at all,” Lady Pamala stated firmly. “For a private dinner, they will do, but a grand ball...”

  Before Lady Pamala could finish her sentiments, it was announced that the coach was ready and waiting out front.

  The coach ride to Lord Cunningham’s London home was relatively short and pleasant. For the most part, the Duke just listened as the two girls chatted away. Lady Pamala liked to point out the people she recognized walking on the streets underneath the glow of the gas lights.

  Often their conversation returned back to styles and designs of the various gowns and dresses they passed by. The Duke truly began to see just how much his sister and Miss Ward had in common. He was glad she convinced him to keep the miss on for the Season. Though Lady Pamala had always been a happy child and youth, there was something to be said for the comradely and excitement as she spoke with another miss who knew precisely what she meant had held that same passion.

  As they came up to the fine home, the carriage slowed, and Miss Ward became visibly nervous.

  “There is nothing to fear,” Lady Pamala sensed her friend’s distress. “Lord and Lady Cunningham are wonderful people, and you will have Lord Melvin and me there to keep you company. Oh, and Winthrope too, of course. All of us will be happy to rescue you should the need arise.”

  The Duke met Miss Ward’s sceptical look.

  “I’m always happy to catch a damsel in distress,” the Duke agreed with a slight upturn of his lips.

  He got his wish when Miss Ward’s cream completion turned a perfect shade of rose yet again. He was beginning to really like the effect he had on her and the sensation it sent tumbling within himself.

  “Of course, the only saving you will probably need is from Lord Cunningham, himself. He is a kindly man, but he tends to enjoy a good gab. Unfortunately, his conversations, at his age, are often a repeat of the same things again and again,” Lady Pamala giggled.

  “Speaking of uncomfortable conversations,” the Duke spoke up for the first time since they entered the carriage, “it should be mentioned that though we shouldn’t publicly announce this situation,” he motioned between the girls, “there may be some reactions to the addition to our party.”

  He was doing his best to speak delicately.

  “At the very least, you will be asked about your family. At the very worst, well…”

  “I will be forced to act civilized amid the Lady Clarissa’s of the night,” Miss Ward finished for him giving her chin that little tilt up in the air.

  “She was misbehaving this afternoon,” Lady Pamala agreed as the carriage stopped and the footman came round to open the door. “I never expected her to be quite that…”

  “Snobbish?” the Duke finished for his sister.

  He noticed a satisfied smirk just barely turn up the corners of Miss Ward’s lips at the addition.

  “I don’t think anyone here will be that terrible,” Lady Pamala asserted, always the optimist.

  She moved to get out of the carriage, but the Duke held up his hand to ask her to pause a moment more.

  “Tonight, tomorrow night, or perhaps later in the Season, it will happen again. Someone will look down on you for your company, Pammy, I am sorry to say. And they will look down on you, despite your fine qualities, Miss Ward.”

  “And I will grin and bear it as I did this afternoon,” Miss Ward assured him.

  He studied her for the briefest of moments. She had a set to her velvet coat covered shoulders that told him she would not be fractured quite as quickly as he had expected.

  “If I can deal with Mrs McAlester coming into the shop twice a month and demanding a better price, citing I’m not worth the cost of mending and re-hemming the dresses for her ladies’ school, and that she is doing us a great charity by not finding a better establishment, without giving her a good sock in the nose, I can handle whatever a dandy might have to say about me.”

  The Duke gave a surprised chuckle at her firmness and determination. Lady Pamala giggled behind her gloved hand. Miss Ward realized what she had let slip from her mouth.

  “I mean…”

  “No,” the Duke stopped her. “Clearly you have a firm constitution. I just hope there won’t be any,” he paused for effect, “socking, in our future.”

  “I only mean, I mean I never have before,” Miss Ward stammered, slipping back into her old drawl.

  “He’s only kidding, Ella,” Lady Pamala reassured her before they all exited the carriage.

  Chapter 13

  For the most part, the dinner went perfectly, or at least Ella thought it was pretty close to perfect. She only forgot once which utensil to use when a course was placed before her. Luckily Lady Pamala noticed her panic from across the table and discreetly lifted the proper one for Ella to see.

  If remembering proper forks and spoons and what to say when and how to say it wasn’t hard enough, her mind was all befuddled by the constant personality swings of the Duke of Winthrope.

  He had been so stoic and aloof at tea and then insisted on employing her the rest of the Season at a very outrageously high rate. Then there was that moment in the office when she had been pressed up against him.

  Though she had thought he was laughing at her expense, she could honestly say she had never seen quite so much merriment in his eyes. There had also been the looks he had been passing her direction as well as the small little teasing comments.

  Ella was beginning to wonder if perhaps his serious and mean nature was simply a shell the true Duke hid behind. Perhaps now that she was to be a part of his household for the next several months, he was starting to let her passed that wall he had built up around himself.

  Still, it was nice to be seated at the far end of the table, while the Duke was at the head if only to clear her mind from the confusion he seemed to enjoy vexing her with.

  Lady Pamala had been right that the situations and fears she had created inside her own imagination were much worse than the reality of the night. For the most part, everyone had been very kind and welcoming to her.

  To be honest, Ella had stayed closed to either Lady Pamala or Lord Melvin, finding comfort and safety in their presence. She had no desire to take up the Duke’s offer of being saved from him for a second time that night.

  After the meal, the ladies moved to the drawing-room while the gentleman stayed behind to drink brandy and talk business. Ella had expected this and was fine as long as she could stay by Lady Pamala’s side.


  There were only a few other ladies present at the party, which was a small blessing for Ella as she still wasn’t the best at remembering names. There was Lady Cunningham, of course, and their daughter, Lady Mary Fennimore.

  At thirty, Lady Mary was six years Lord Melvin’s senior and two years older than Lord Melvin’s other brother. With so little funds at their disposal, there was little hope for a proper arrangement to be made for Lady Mary.

  Lady Pamala had explained such information to Ella as they had readied themselves in her room earlier in the evening. Ella had felt pity for Lady Mary then, and now having met the demure creature, she felt even more empathy.

  Lady Mary was no great beauty and very shy in personality. Adding to the fact that her dowry was not even enough to entice an impoverished lord, there was little chance that Lady Mary would ever find a match among the gentry.

  Along with Lady Cunningham and Lady Mary, there was also a Mrs Fennimore, Lord Melvin’s aunt, and her daughter. It was clear from the start that all of the companies had known each other well for many years. Despite that fact, all seemed very welcoming to the addition of Ella to their party.

  “It’s so nice to finally have a party of four for Whist,” Miss Fennimore commented as the ladies sat down at the card table.

  Lady Cunningham and Mrs Fennimore had declined the option to play, as Ella was informed they always did. In fact, it was apparently common practice for Lady Cunningham and Mrs Fennimore to instead play dice with the Dowager Duchess who had sent ahead of her condolences for not being present that night.

  “I’m much better at rolling dice than I am strategizing cards. For that reason, I refuse to touch the deck at all,” Lady Cunningham confessed.

  Ella was happy to be included in the game with the younger ladies of the party, but at the same time was having a terrible time remembering all the rules. Before meeting Lady Pamala, she had been somewhat familiar with the basics of a few card games but had never really played them herself. She never had funds to spare for such frivolity and certainly not the time to spend on them.

  It was as the game was coming to an end, or at least Ella thought it was, that the men joined the women in the drawing-room along with a service of tea and light puddings.

  Though she hadn’t meant to, her eyes seemed to drift directly to the Duke from the moment he entered the room. She would have liked to think it was his tall, broad-shouldered presence that made her attention draw to him, but in reality, it was the memory of his strong arms wrapped around her waist and the feel of his thumb gently caressing her cheek.

  “I was sorry to learn that the Duchess had to decline to join us this evening. She sent a note that she still had so much by way of preparation for tomorrow to do,” Lady Cunningham said to Lady Pamala. “I hope she doesn’t work herself into a sickbed. How have things been going? You must be growing very excited.”

  Lady Pamala flushed at the direct line of questioning. In all honesty, she had confessed to Ella that night she had felt guilty for not helping her mother more. It was clear that the Dowager Duchess had taken too much on all by herself, and by leaving the Duke’s house, had sentenced herself to lose the little help that Lady Pamala had been giving.

  “We win!” Lady Mary exclaimed excitedly.

  “I believed that is the first time I have ever won with you as my partner,” Miss Fennimore added with a giggle.

  “Then it is lucky that you played up against someone as terrible as me,” Ella said with a shrug.

  She didn’t mind losing. To be honest, she had only kept up with maybe half the game. Even the small pot that was put in the middle for the winner didn’t seem to pain her when it was swept away into the other’s hands.

  Lady Pamala turned in her spot to speak with Lady Cunningham with the completion of the game, and while Lady Mary started to collect the cards and put them away, Ella let her eyes wander the room. She would have liked to say she had no desire to listen to the Duke’s conversation, but she couldn’t help that her ears seemed to perk up at the sound of his voice.

  He was standing not too far from the car table, still with a glass of amber liquor in hand, speaking with Lord Cunningham. He had a placid look to his features as Cunningham was talking and gesticulating his arms.

  Ella understood the boring gloss to the Duke’s brown eyes. She had already had the same conversation with Lord Cunningham three times that night, and he hadn’t sought out her company as he seemed to have done with the Duke.

  Still to his credit, the Duke listened politely as the Lord spoke, even though she doubted this was the first he heard of this conversation. Ella was doing her best to ignore the conversation until a word pricked her ears, hunt.

  Her stomach tightened as she listened to Lord Cunningham speak of the short trip to the country he would be taking in the morning where there would be a fox hunt held. It was clear he was trying to entice the Duke to join him.

  “It does sound like an enjoyable afternoon, Lord Cunningham, but my sister is to be presented tomorrow.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” the aged man said as he rubbed an arthritis hand against his chin. “Well, we will be back in plenty of time for the ball. Lord Mather’s estate is only an hour outside the city. It would be entirely doable. And you have such a fine steed. It would be a shame that she doesn’t get to stretch her legs on the hunt.”

  “I am sure you’re right, but I will have a duty to help my mother prepare for the evening, not to mention escorting my sister in court.”

  “Yes, I suppose,” Lord Cunningham agreed in that feeble-minded way.

  “It is a pity that I must miss it, though. I hear Lord Mathers have some of the best forests in all of England.”

  He smiled politely and excused himself.

  Ella could feel distaste boiling up within her. Of course, up until this moment, she had never been around people who enjoyed the so-called sport of hunting. It was entirely barbaric to her. It was one thing for a person to get the necessary meat for their table; it was entirely another when a so-called gentleman chased a poor innocent fox, only cornering it to allow their dogs to rip it to shreds.

  She couldn’t believe that just moments ago, she had been thinking pleasant thoughts about the Duke. That she had actually believed there had been someone kind and charitable underneath a thick exterior as Lady Pamala had suggested.

  Now, however, she was sure that Lady Pamala was nothing more than an optimistic girl wishing the best of her eldest brother. It was just unfortunate that she happened to be a sibling to a ruthless, unfeeling, beast of a man.

  “Lady Pamala, since tomorrow is your special day, perhaps you wouldn’t mind entertaining us,” Lord Cunningham turned his attention to her. “Your mother told me that you were very skilled on the piano.”

  Lady Pamala looked panicked. Ella had never once heard Lady Pamala play in all the weeks she had lived under the Duke’s roof, so if she was musically inclined, she certainly was out of practice.

  Still, with the host of the dinner requesting it, she could do little to deny his offer. So the whole party situated themselves on couches and chairs as Lady Pamala searched through the music provided next to the pianoforte in the corner of the drawing-room.

  Ella felt herself feeling nervous for her friend. Even still, the whole evening had shown that this was a close group of friends, and certainly, she wouldn’t be mistreated if her abilities were not as good as expected.