The Shy Duchess

by Amanda McCabe

  That was what his own parents had done—until it all exploded in their faces. But most people with such marriages did not fall apart as the duke and duchess did. Most people kept up their façade and got on with it.

  At first, he thought that was all he could hope for with Emily Carroll. A proper society marriage, maybe a partnership of sorts. The love matches his siblings had made could not be for him. That had all changed as he came to see Emily, the real Emily, the hidden heart of her. The shyness, the fear, melted away and her laughter glowed—only for him. It changed his whole world.

  She was a passionate woman with a good, kind heart. Seeing the school where she worked, meeting the people there who loved her, whose lives she had touched and changed, showed him that even clearer. The fact that some brute would dare to hurt her, to use her tender heart against her—it made him burn with a raw fury he had never known before. He was angry that she felt like she had to lie to him.

  He forced that anger down, erased it from his expression and relaxed his curled, hard fists before he said gently, “So here you are, Em.”

  A startled tremor went through her, and he thought she might not respond, would not turn and look at him. But then she slowly stood up and spun around to face him.

  “How did you find me?” she said softly. Her whole body seemed tense, as if she was poised to flee like one of Stephen’s more skittish horses.

  Nicholas remembered how his brothers treated such creatures, with slow movements and a quiet, reassuring tone. He didn’t want her to run from him, not now. It felt as if this moment was so important for them, as if their whole future together depended on their connecting now.

  He took one slow step towards her, then another. “It was a lucky guess. And also you were not in the other places I looked.”

  “Where did you look?”

  “Well, Manning House, of course. Your parents’ house. And then I went to Mrs Goddard’s school.” He held out her jewellery boxes. “I wanted to return these to you.”

  She stared at the boxes, her face turning even whiter under the brim of her bonnet. “You know, then.”

  “About your teaching work, and that piece of dirt, Rayburn? Yes, I know. I wish you had told me yourself.” He forced himself to speak quietly, gently, to not frighten her with his own anger and confusion. He wanted to be a good husband to her, but how could he if he did not even really know her? If she didn’t know him well enough to see that she could trust him?

  Emily sank down on the bench. “I didn’t want you to worry. I just wanted to take care of it myself, to—to make it all go away.”

  “Emily, why?” he demanded. He sat down beside her, very close, but not quite touching. She felt so tense he feared if he touched her she would snap. “I am your husband. Why would you think you could not tell me, come to me for help? I thought maybe you were in love with Rayburn, that our marriage separated you from the man you truly wanted.”

  Emily gave a bitter laugh. “Quite the opposite. I never wanted to marry him, even when it seemed he was my only possible suitor. But I never imagined he felt as he did, that he would do what he did. And as for why I did not tell you, Nicholas—I had promised you and your family I would always do my best, that I would work hard to be your perfect duchess. Being blackmailed for associating with former courtesans didn’t seem the way to keep that promise.”

  “Oh, Emily.” You precious, silly girl, he thought. She thought she was protecting him. That anger faded away, leaving only a bitter sadness. “You know my family. We have come through far worse scrapes than this intact.”

  “But I did not want to be one more ‘scrape’ for you! You have enough to worry about, without a scandalous new wife. I want to help you, not be a burden, even after the way we had to marry. I never want to be a burden.”

  “Oh, Em.” Nicholas set down the boxes and gently took her hand in his. “How could you ever think you are a burden? You are the furthest thing from that to me.”

  “You mean—you are not angry?” she said doubtfully, staring down at their joined hands.

  “Oh, no, I am certainly angry. But not with you.”

  “Oh.” She frowned, turning to look out at the river as if she was trying to fathom something totally new and unexpected.

  He knew the feeling very well. He had been trying to do the same ever since they married and he found this unexpected gift in his life.

  “You are not angry about my work, about the way I kept it secret even from my parents?” she said. “Or that I tried to sell the jewellery you and your sister gave me?”

  “It was wrong of Rayburn to take advantage of your kindness, Em,” he said. “I am only angry you did not think you could tell me about it. I am your husband. We’re together in this now, in all things.” And to his surprise he realised just how true that was. They had begun with much against them, and they were working hard to build a life together. But they had to learn to trust from now on.

  She nodded, but he could tell from the shadows in her eyes that something was still bothering her. If he had learned one thing about his wife, it was that she could not be pushed. She was as stubborn as the rest of his family.

  “You must continue to work anywhere you like, and associate with anyone you like,” he said firmly. “You are the Duchess of Manning. These cursed titles are mostly a lot of hard work and a complete nuisance, but at least it gives us that freedom. Gossip can’t hurt us, not you and me, my dear. Do you see?”

  She looked him right in the eye and smiled. “I am beginning to think I do. And I’m glad you don’t want me to give up Mrs Goddard’s. She was my governess, you see, and one of my dearest friends. She’s been doing such good work with her school, and made such a difference in those women’s lives. I haven’t been able to help her very much, but I do what I can, to repay her for what she gave me.”

  “Now you can help her as much as you like. Maybe she’d like a bigger school, in the country somewhere? More teachers?”

  Emily laughed, a wonderful, open, free, delighted sound Nicholas had never heard from her before. It was like the brilliant sun bursting forth on a cold, grey day. He wanted to hear more and more of it. He would do absolutely anything to make her laugh like that again.

  “Oh, Nicholas,” she cried, and threw her arms around his neck in the way he loved so much. “What a great fool I was not to tell you. Sally said so, but I did not believe her, and here she was quite right. I should have known you would understand—but I was afraid.”

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said, holding her close. He buried his face in her neck, breathing in her sweet scent. “Never be afraid of me. There is just one more thing I need to know now, my dear.”

  “And what is that?” she asked. Her voice was muffled against his shoulder as she clung to him.

  “Where are you supposed to meet Rayburn to give him his blood money?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “I’m surprised you haven’t decamped to France already, Rayburn,” Nicholas said from the shadows. He had been waiting there at the top of the stairs in that shabby lodging house for hours, his anger slowly simmering. Now that anger was so cold it fairly burned. “You’re rather late for your appointment.”

  Rayburn spun around, his fists clenched. Even in that half-light Nicholas could see the wild shock in the man’s eyes, the flash of panic. Good—he should be terrified for daring to threaten Emily. The fact that he told her to come here, to his lodgings, told Nicholas that Rayburn wanted more than money from her, even though Emily had not seen it. The man was lower than the low.

  Nicholas crossed his arms over his chest. “Surprised to see me, are you?”

  Rayburn quickly regained his equilibrium and gave Nicholas a humourless, taunting smile. “So, the little mouse went and tattled on me, did she? She’s braver than I thought.”

  “And you’re even more foolish than I thought. Surely you’d know better than to insult my wife even further?”

  “What else can you do to me, Manning? My
life is ruined, my place in society gone, my fortune vanished, the lady I wanted to marry stolen by you. Not even a duke could make things worse for me now.”

  “I wouldn’t place a bet on that if I were you, Rayburn. An infuriated husband is surely worse than any duke.”

  “Oh, so now you care about her, do you?” Rayburn sneered. “Everyone knows you were forced to marry, and just one more disgrace for your family. But now you come to her aid, when someone else seems to have feelings for her? Forgive me if I am not convinced—your Grace.”

  “I do not care whether you are convinced or not,” Nicholas growled. “I only care that you leave my wife alone from now on. Do not even so much as look in her direction, or we will be having a very different sort of conversation.”

  Disgusted and fed up with having to even look at the villain, Nicholas half-turned toward the door to take his leave. He had to get back to what really mattered— Emily. But Rayburn suddenly lunged at him, catching him on the jaw with an unexpected blow that sent Nicholas reeling back against the wall. All his raw, burning fury was released and he let it all fly free, grabbing Rayburn and slamming him into the door. He curled his fists in the man’s coat, holding him pinned there.

  “You call blackmailing a lady, frightening her half to death, having feelings for her?” Nicholas said, tightening his fists as Rayburn tried to twist away. “I call it being a damnable villain. Emily had a lucky escape when she did not marry you, you would have bled her sweet heart until she was crushed.”

  “And she’s so much better off with you, is she? A brawler with an insane family?” Rayburn kicked out at Nicholas, driving him back, but only for an instant. Nicholas remembered all his lessons at Gerard’s Saloon, and came back with a sharp right uppercut that sent Rayburn crashing to the floor.

  All that fury came pouring out of him as the small room rang with curses, shouts and the dull thud of blows. All his passion for Emily, his struggle to be a good husband, that raw anger when he learned she was being threatened, was released in the primitive thrill of the fight.

  This man would never hurt Emily again. As Nicholas drove his bare fist into Rayburn’s face, he doubted any lady need fear from him ever again. This was over, for good.

  “Wot’s all this?” a woman suddenly screamed. “You’re tearing up my house, you bastards!”

  Through that red haze of fight-fury, Nicholas felt tiny, sharp fists rain blows on his head. He tossed Rayburn aside and slumped back against the wall as a small, thin, grey-haired lady pummelled at him. Her wrinkled face under a grubby mob cap was contorted in a fury that surely surpassed even his own.

  She kicked at Rayburn, who tried to crawl away from her even though he couldn’t see where he was going through his swollen-shut eye.

  “I knew it was a mistake to rent to the likes of you!” the woman shrieked. “You never paid your rent on time, and now you’re bleeding all over my floor!”

  Nicholas started to laugh, but winced as his lip gave a twinge. He held his hand to the blood dripping there, and saw he was contributing to the mess on the woman’s floor. His knuckles were bruised and bleeding, his ribs on fire and his face aching, but Rayburn was in a worse state.

  And certainly, Nicholas reflected as he watched the landlady finish the job he himself had begun on Rayburn’s battered self, the man would never harass a female again. It was a good day’s work.

  The woman left off Rayburn, who finally lay still, and spun around to face Nicholas. His laughter faded.

  “And you, sirrah!” she cried. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re no gentleman to be brawling in a lady’s house like that.”

  “You are quite right, madam,” he said, as best as he could through his split lip. “My deepest apologies.”

  “He must owe you money, too,” she said. “People are pounding on this door day and night, demanding their coin.”

  “I’m sure they are. But he’ll be gone soon enough, I assure you.” Nicholas dug a handful of coins from inside his torn coat and pressed them in her hand. “Pay to have the room cleaned before you rent it out again, madam, with my deepest apologies.”

  A smile lit up her face. “I will, sir, thank you.” She cast a baleful glance at Rayburn, who was slowly sitting up on the floor. “And what about him?”

  “I’ll take care of him.”

  The woman gave a cackling laugh. “I’m sure you will at that!” She hurried out of the room without a backward look, clutching at the coins.

  “Get out of England, Rayburn, as fast as you can,” Nicholas said. “And pray no one in my family ever sees you again, or this afternoon will seem like the merest trifle.”

  And he turned on his heel and followed the woman out of that cursed room. She was nowhere to be seen as he left the house, but Rayburn’s incoherent curses followed him out the door.

  His carriage waited at the end of the narrow street, and he collapsed on the seat with a groan. Only now could he feel the aches of nearly every blow, every cut, but it was certainly all worth it. A brawl was surely not as gentlemanly as a duel, but it was far more satisfying.

  And Emily, his sweet Emily, was safe now. That was the most important thing of all.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “You ridiculous, wonderful fool.” Emily slowly soaked a cloth in cold water and rang it out, pressing it gently to the bruise on Nicholas’s cheek as he lay stretched out on the chaise in her bedchamber. That bruise was turning purple and yellow at the edges, a vivid reminder of the violence and noise of the afternoon.

  She had to admit it gave her a strange sort of satisfaction. Not that Nicholas was hurt, never that. But that he had defended her, like a knight of old with his damsel. She had never imagined anyone would do such a thing for her. She wasn’t the sort of woman men fought over, were passionate about. It was rather—thrilling.

  As long as it never happened again.

  “Why do you smile like that?” he said hoarsely. “Are you making fun of the ruin of my pretty face?”

  Emily laughed, and he smiled up at her, only to wince at the movement. She pressed the cloth closer. “It is certainly very colourful. Does it hurt terribly?”

  “Truthfully, it hardly hurts at all. But I’m very willing to swear it’s absolutely excruciating if it means you will stay close to me.”

  “I won’t go anywhere, whether it hurts or not.” She smoothed his rumpled hair back from his brow. Despite the circumstances, she loved this moment with him, just the two of them in her quiet room, bound together by all that had happened. Even the woman in the portrait, who had haunted Emily ever since she saw her, seemed far away now. “Wherever did you learn to fight like that?”

  He shrugged. “When you grow up with brothers like mine you learn to defend yourself. And I go to Gerard’s Saloon. They will beat the daylights out of anyone who pays them enough, and they’ve taught me well.”

  “Indeed they have. You were certainly not the one who had the, er, daylight beaten out of them today. I’m sure Mr Rayburn will be fortunate if he can even walk tomorrow.”

  Nicholas gave a smugly satisfied laugh. “It was rather well done, I think. I can be fearsome when I wish.”

  “Oh, yes. I doubt he will ever try to blackmail a lady again.”

  “He won’t be allowed into any drawing room in London again, either,” Nicholas said grimly. “He will go abroad and stay there if he has any sense of self-preservation at all. Or perhaps he should go to Canada or India, if he truly wants to stay out of our way.”

  “I don’t think we need to worry about it. He won’t come around here again, I’m sure.” Emily rinsed out the cloth again, trying to collect all her scattered thoughts. She knew truly what she owed Nicholas now; she knew what she had to say to him. She simply didn’t know the words. How exactly did a woman set free a man she loved so desperately?

  “You are a good friend to me, Nicholas,” she said. “I can never repay you for all you have given me.”

  He frowned up at her. “I am your husban
d, Em. There is no question of repaying.”

  “Of course there is. You have given me so much: a home, a family, a position in society where I can do my work. You’ve even come to fisticuffs over me! My Galahad. Our marriage has, I fear, never been as open and honest as marriage should be. Even the beginning of our betrothal was based on a scandalous lie. But I will not do that any longer. I care about you too much.”

  I love you. Those words hovered on her tongue, longing to be said. She forced them away. This was the moment to let him go, not hold him to her, no matter how much she wanted to. No matter how bleak she feared her life would be without him.

  “I can find my own residence,” she said. “Or move to another apartment here at Manning House—this place is so vast. No one ever needs to know the truth, I won’t bring more gossip on to you.”

  “Em, please.” He grabbed her hand, forcing her to look at him again. Raw sorrow was written on his face, more vivid than that bruise. Worse, it seemed to be a bruise from the inside, a wound from his very heart. “What is the meaning of this? Is there something else you aren’t telling me?”

  “Only that I saw that miniature, the portrait of your Valentina that you kept in the desk at Welbourne. I did not mean to pry, but the hinge came loose and I saw her there. I know how much you miss her, and that I can never replace her in your heart. I don’t want you to feel obligated to me any more…”

  “Obligated? Is that what you think? That I can’t let her go? That I can’t move into the future with you?”

  “I fear I don’t know what to think. When it comes to you, Nicholas, and to our life together, I can only— feel.”

  “Emily.” Nicholas kissed the top of her head. The tender touch made her want to cry. “I do love her memory, and I always will. I never knew love like that before her. Now I keep her portrait close to remember all she taught me.”

  “What did she teach you?” Emily thought surely Valentina had taught him what Nicholas himself had taught her—how to love, how to truly care and thus to put another person first. It was a truly wonderful thing.