The Duchess and the Spy

by Marly Mathews

  “Get up you little chit! Do you realize that you have Maria quite at her wits end, because she believes that you are deathly ill? If this is another one of your humourless attempts to avoid marriage to me, then you will find that I am not amused.” He made the bed creak and groan as he settled his weight upon it, and Isabella stiffened visibly, as she felt him gently touch her shoulder. He pulled her into a sitting position, before she even knew what had happened, and was kissing her before her mind had enough time to realize what was happening. She struggled against him, and sighed, as she felt him invade her warmth.

  His kisses tempted her into dangerous territory. She wanted more of them, she wanted him to do things to her that would drive her mad with desire. She whimpered as she tightened her hold on him, and heard him chuckle in the back of his throat. She heard him chuckle at the same time as she heard the door creaking open. Swallowing thickly, her eyes rested on Maria and Theo. The man had trapped her. Why he was definitely in for it now!

  “You want me now, very badly, I would wager,” he whispered, as his voice taunted and teased her. “And you do not fool me, my darling. You are no sicker than I, though in hindsight, I confess that you may be lovesick.” He mouth slanted into a cheeky grin, as he riveted his stormy eyes on her.

  “You despicable cad, what do you think that you are doing?” she tried to ease him away from her. But he was rock solid and would not be deterred. “Answer me, you libertine! What the bloody hell, do you think that you doing?” Now he’d trapped her into marriage, she would have to marry him no matter what. In her heart of hearts, she knew that he was compromising her so that she would have no choice but to become his wife. She admired his determination, but wondered why he would want her, when he seemed to despise her.

  “I do believe my darling, that I am truthfully compromising you. You shall have to wait for the full excessive treatment, until tonight.” She slammed her fists down on the yellow pastel quilt that covered her bed. “I do believe, Theo, that the Duchess will not be requiring your services. She seems quite hearty and hale to me.”

  “You insufferable bastard!” she cried out, as he swaggered out of the room, leaving a very confused Maria in his wake.

  “Your Grace, I do believe that he is quite in love with you. Or else he would not be so swift to maintain the marriage bargain. It gives me great joy to see that he actually does indeed deserve you. He is a wonderful man, why he cares a great deal about you. When he discovered that you were feeling quite ill, he came up here straightaway so that he could be by your side to give you comfort,” Maria’s voice was wistful, and Isabella gasped when she opened a window.

  “You mean to give me torment!” she wrinkled her nose. He had unnerved her to her core, and he had proved that he had wielded a certain amount of power over her.

  “Well, I daresay that we have been idle long enough. You need to get yourself dressed, as do I. Your hair I should think shall take a good amount of time. The curls are beautiful, but I shall freshly wash it, for I will ask Gladys to draw a bath for you.” Maria beamed over at her, as she opened the closet and pulled out the necessary toiletries. “I have some very nice perfume for you to wear, and I have some flowers that I thought would possibly go nicely in your hair. I snipped off some roses this morning and arranged a nice bouquet for you. I truly regret the fact that I cannot provide you with the lavish wedding that you probably desire, but alas, I am but a simple country’s doctor’s wife. But I do suppose that I would not have it any other way. I have known Theo since I was a young girl, and I have seen the very best in him, and the very worst, and I realize that I am quite capable of dealing with both. You mustn’t look upon your marriage with complete dislike or you will be miserable for the rest of your life.”

  “I have to keep remembering the fact that I did know Christopher when I was younger and that back then he wasn’t as wretched as he is now. We share a delightful cousin, and that increases our bond,” she sighed, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She slipped her feet into the waiting slippers and walked over to the small rosewood dressing table. Shivering, she quickly reached for the white shawl that was draped across the chair. She wrapped it around herself and sat on the small cushioned window seat. It too was a pale yellow, and everything else in the room seemed to match the décor perfectly. Right down to the country painting that was hanging on the west wall. This room had served her well for several days and nights and she would be a little sad to leave it.

  “You must speak of Lord Jason,” Maria murmured, coming over and standing by her. She sighed, Jason had the courtesy title of Viscount Melrose, but he’d obviously failed to give this information to Maria as he liked to be informal with friends going by Lord Jason, Jason or just Elphinstone. Wyndham, on the other hand, liked everyone to use the proper forms of address—he was quite a stickler for that.

  “Indeed I do not. Jason is not related to Christopher in any such manner. He is but a true friend to the man. No, the man that I am referring to is the eldest child of my Aunt Mary, his name is William. She is the dearest lady, and has raised her son to be a generous and gallant man. He is the best of confidants, and I was hoping to make it to London so that I would be able to discuss my problems with him. He has knowledge of such matters, and I believed that he would be able to give the advice that I so required.” She flinched as longing crept into her voice. Will was the only man that she could truly place her faith in. He was the most delightful man on the face of the earth, and she wondered why he hadn’t come to collect her and take her away from Christopher. Will had the best sense of humour and he had a reserved, dignified personality, so different from Christopher that she’d find him to be a refreshing change.

  “You have such a heavy heart, my dear. Pray forget about your troubles for one day, and enjoy your wedding day, for I daresay that you will only be getting one in your lifetime,” Maria sighed, tucking a stray lock of hair back up into her cap.

  “To be sure that may not be the case,” Isabella whispered, as her voice strained. “He may want to annul me, or perhaps I will simply runaway.” She reached for the silver hand mirror, and began inspecting the lines of fatigue that etched below her eyes.

  “Oh, do not speak of such rubbish,” Maria snorted. “You are too loyal to think of such things. You would be breaking a sacred vow if you did that, and if there is one thing that I can tell, I realize that you are a woman of your word. So pray oblige me, and come and take your bath.”

  Isabella did oblige Maria, and she was thankful for Gladys and Maria’s assistance in washing her hair and scrubbing her back. Bathing was such a nuisance to have to do on one’s own, and she realized with a lump in her throat how very much she depended upon Daphne.

  Dearest Daphne, she would love to see her be married. She had always talked endlessly about her future nuptials. And because of her, Daphne was trapped in France facing her death, if she did not rescue her, and accomplish the impossible feat that Napoleon had entrusted her with. She hated her uncle and she hated Napoleon, but how could she help Daphne without helping the two bastards that she hated the most in the entire world? Which one should she choose to trust?

  It was a high stake game, and she needed to win or else Daphne or she would be dead. She knew that her Pierre plotted against Napoleon, and yet she could not tell to what end. She suspected that he wished to assume Napoleon’s place as Emperor but realized that this was a foolish aspiration indeed. If he was discovered he would be sentenced to death, but she had no true evidence against him, and it would have simply been her word against her Pierre, and as of now Napoleon adored her him, and always kept a close correspondence with him.

  Frowning, she stared at her freckles in the mirror, and smiled, as Maria combed out her hair and ran her fingers through the crimson tresses.

  “You have beautiful hair,” she breathed enviously. “It is absolutely exquisite. Ah, but I shall love dressing your hair we will keep it as simple as possible with perhaps a few flower petals scattered throu
ghout it. And this bonnet shall look glorious on you. Afterwards, at the wedding feast you will be able to remove the bonnet, since your hair is so gorgeous.”

  “Christopher shall be struck down,” Isabella said in jest, laughing gaily, momentarily forgetting all of her cares.

  “Oh, but he shall. He will not know what to do. I almost forgot. Someone sent this note to me and I placed it in one of my, ah, yes here it is,” she declared, brandishing a letter. “It was given to me to give to you. Make haste and read it, for I scarcely know how we will be ready in time. We must have you to the church on time. You must be married before noon. A happy day, indeed,” Maria murmured, placing the last pin in her hair. “We had no need to curl or primp it, for the body is already there, simply beautiful.” She breathed gazing upon her masterpiece. “I shall leave you now, and go and get my dress on. Then we shall slip your dress onto you, so that you will not wrinkle it. You shall be a very beautiful bride.”

  “There isn’t a dearer soul than you, Maria.” Maria smiled one last time at her, and scurried out of the bedchamber.

  Her heart quickened, as her eyes fell on the letter. She smiled.

  My lovely Isabella,

  I have reflected upon our past confrontations together, and I have concluded that our collective stubborn will and pride, have conflicted, and to this end, we have treated each other in a very ill way indeed. Pray, let us forget the past transgressions, and start anew. As my wife you shall be the most important woman in my life, and I trust that as your husband I shall be the most important man in your life. Today is our day, my dear. Let us make it one that shall not be soon forgotten.

  Affectionately yours,

  Saint Christopher.

  She was startled to discover that he had signed her old nickname for him to the letter, and was even more astonished to discover the abundance of goodwill that it contained. He wanted to try. He wanted to take the chance. And despite the fact that he had been literally thrust into the position of marrying her to save her reputation, and to avoid a disastrous scandal he was still attempting to woo her, even if it was done in his highly unconventional way. He still wanted her, and perhaps as he kept telling her, she wanted him as well.

  She waited until she had resumed her senses, and placed the letter down upon the dressing table. Hearing Maria whoosh into the room, she turned her body to study Maria. “Oh, Maria, you do look quite fetching,” she exclaimed, jumping up from her chair and walking over toward her. Gathering Maria’s hands into her own, she squeezed them gently. “Thank you, for being here with me, when I needed it the most. I confess I do not know what I would have done without you. My friends seem to be so scarce these days, and it warms my heart to know that there are good generous people still left in this increasingly cold and bitter world,” she sighed deeply, and then stared over at the wedding dress that had been laid out for her.

  She laughed as Maria finished smoothing out the dress, and then she made sure that her hair was unruffled. Maria reached for a jewelry case, and produced a strand of pearls. Isabella started, when Maria slipped the pearls around her neck and fastened the clasp. Then she slipped the dainty drop earrings into her ears.

  “Lovely,” Maria breathed, as she led Isabella over to the full-length mirror. Isabella examined her reflection in the mirror, turned to Maria and nodded happily.

  “Oh, Maria it is so very fine looking, though I daresay that no one in the room shall even give me the slightest attention. They will most undoubtedly be too preoccupied with watching Christopher. He can be quite entertaining, and he does like to hog the attention.” She pressed her hand to her mouth to still the chuckle that she felt coming upon her.

  “Yes, he can be,” Maria heartily agreed, as she became moony eyed. “I adore my Theo, but your Christopher, is a very handsome fellow. And I a rather capable fellow. I envy you my dearest you shall have the balls and the grand townhouse in England, and at least one country estate, why you are the most fortunate woman that I know.”

  “I already have all of those things, and besides it is all worth nothing if you are not in love. What I really need is love. Not a handsome persnickety husband. I need love!” she proclaimed longingly, marching back over towards the dressing table. “I tried to convince myself but I can’t marry him in good faith, I simply can’t,” she decided, reaching down to rouge her lips once again. “I’ve made many mistakes in my life I can’t add one like this to my already formidable list.”

  “Yes, but dearest, you do not have a choice. And do not despair. You will be treated as if you were crystal. He will not hurt you.” The inner turmoil raging inside of Isabella was about to get the better of her. She had to calm down, and gain a clear mind.

  “You are right, and as I always say we do what we must.” She pressed a strand of hair back away from her forehead, and sighed, when it popped back out and fell against her forehead. She blew upwards and that did no good either. “There are some things that one must deal with.” She turned to Maria and locked arms with her. They walked arm in arm from the room.

  Isabella walked to the church holding Jason’s arm so tightly that she could almost see the twitch of a wince across his features. He smiled down at her and patted her arm affectionately. She desperately wished that they were going to someone else’s wedding instead of her own.

  “I have a lady in London that I fancy, and I’ve told her that if she ever accepts another man, I shall challenge that man to a duel at dawn.”

  “You didn’t,” she breathed, exhaling a great rush of air. “Well, of course you did, that sounds exactly like you,” she giggled, placing her other hand to her mouth. “If you ever challenged a man to a duel at dawn I would be forced to box your ears.”

  “Then you are too late, my dear cousin. I have already challenged two men, and I confess, I won both duels. Do not look so stricken, they are both still quite alive.”

  “Oh, Jason.”

  “Honestly, Isabella, if you think that that is shocking then you shall not want to discover Christopher’s dueling legacy,” he promised, as a twinkle entered his eyes.

  “Whatever do you mean?” she questioned, as they walked up the church steps.

  “I mean that you shall have to find out from him, those secrets are his to divulge, not mine. I have no business revealing the more exciting parts of Christopher’s life. Some of which, I know you already know about.”

  She entered the church, and stared down the length of it. She wanted to run. She wanted to take off, and never look back. She had a chance if only Jason would release her arm, she could run, find a carriage and take off. She could find her way to London or Scotland. Either way, she would be away from Christopher. And she needed to be as far away from him as possible, before she became attached to him as well. Everyone she became attached to found an untimely demise. So she would keep herself away from him, if only for his own good.

  She let go of Jason’s arm, and slipped through the church door. Everything became a blur to her. She had made it out onto the street, and had begun to make great haste, when she heard loud footsteps behind her.

  “Oh, no you don’t! You are not running out on me!” she heard Christopher say, as he swept her right off of her feet, and carried her in his arms back to the church. She stared at him in astonishment. He looked quite handsome indeed. His hair was combed even though the midnight waves still had a mind of their own. He was freshly shaven, and she was certain he had just bathed. His white shirt looked endearingly crisp against the navy blue tailcoat outfitted with gold buttons. His cravat was tied in his own customized knot and looked quite smart against his white shirt and blue tailcoat, and his gold watch and watch fobs added to the look of his tailcoat. His tight breeches were a creamy colour and fit him snugly, perhaps a wee bit too snug, and now she knew why the English called them inexpressibles. He placed her on her feet.

  “Now, you stay here,” he walked over to Jason, and then took his place by the vicar. Jason came down and took her arm.

  �
�There is no running away now, Isabella. Don’t even think about it.”

  “I shan’t,” she said. Her heart fell. She was doomed.

  Jason walked her down the aisle, and presented her to Christopher. His eyes fell to her heaving breasts. She knew he was looking at the emerald pendant. A smug grin enveloped his features when he discovered that it wasn’t glowing. “Those pearls look quite fetching mixed with the emerald amulet.”

  *****

  Christopher stared down at her, and smiled at her. She had such wildly beautiful hair. Her crimson curls were already beginning to frame her face, and the wedding bonnet she wore her seem quite diminutive. The wedding dress itself was rose hued, and was made of silk. It had long sleeves and a low plunging neckline. Her breasts were very well displayed, since it was tighter than usual across the bust line, and they were pushed up so high that his eyes widened in wonderment.

  “I trust you can behave yourself while the Vicar performs the ceremony?” he whispered.

  “Oh, aye,” she whispered.

  Today he would learn that patience was her virtue, and that no matter how barbed his tongue became she would ignore him, and attempt to make what she could out of the situation. He had lain so many charges against her door that she could not possibly change his mind on the manner. She did not delude herself with frivolous thoughts.

  He did not hold her in high esteem, and she doubted that he ever would. That no longer mattered to her. She would do what she could and pray that somehow she would convince him to change his view towards her. She would take the tattered remains of her self-respect, and endeavor to restore them to her full glory. He would not make her feel miserable on her wedding day. He would not! But the misconceptions he had of her would never make her weak. If he sincerely believed that he could bend her will and consummate their marriage without her being truthfully passionately in love with him, then he was sorely mistaken.

  Men tried to rule her life, and play her like a pawn in a game of chess, but this time she would prevail. This time she would not be controlled or manipulated, and she would definitely not be conquered. No man could be her master. No man!