For the Love of a Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  “I cannot imagine her being so nervous. In truth, I had thought that she would still be there, safe in the knowledge that I would never mention a thing about it for fear that people would believe it to be true.”

  “And that is why my visit was making you nervous?”

  “In truth, Mr Winchester, it still does. Whilst I am relieved that Nella is no longer at the hall, there is no telling where she is or what lies she has spread. I believe her capable of anything, and I am bound to say that every day I fear hearing of some gossip. Every day I think it is the day that I will discover that she has spread her lies to the county just as my husband had intended to do on that awful day.”

  “But I have heard nothing at all. And I have been up at the hall myself, for it seems that nobody there knew of my dismissal. The new Duke sent word to me immediately that he would be requiring my services, albeit to work alongside his own attorney. But still, I cannot think that he would continue to have me at the hall if he had any suspicions at all.”

  “Well, I am very pleased that you did not lose your place there. You went out of your way to help me on that day, and I was so distraught by the idea that you had lost everything.”

  “I have been building my own list of clients for some time now, and I have more work outside the Duchy than I have in it these days. I wish you had not worried so much, for I would never have you worry about anything.” He smiled at her, and for just a moment, she seemed to relax.

  She smiled back at him, and he found himself mesmerized by her eyes, narrowed like a cat at that moment, and her lips so full and rosy.

  “But still, Mr Winchester, I am in mourning currently,” she said, and it seemed as if she had come to a decision, straightening her back, her face wearing a look of mild determination. “Although I have few staff here, I cannot yet say that I trust them.”

  “They are all new, are they not?”

  “Yes, just a housekeeper, a cook, two maids, and a stable boy. It is such a small house that there is not a need for any more than that.”

  “Then I do not think you necessarily need to fear them as you feared your husband’s servants. I understand entirely why you did not trust them, why you might have thought them loyal to their master and not to you, but your own staff are just that; your staff. You are their mistress. Why on earth would they gossip themselves out of good jobs?”

  “I know, I know. It all sounds so ridiculous, Mr Winchester, but this last year has taught me to be cautious at all times. Not only did I learn that at the hands of my husband, but his staff also. Well, Nella West really, but you take my meaning.”

  “I do take your meaning,” he said and began to rise to his feet. “You would rather that I did not visit you here.”

  “You make it sound very final, Mr Winchester, but I would beg you to remember that we are still friends. I will never forget everything you did for me at Lytton Hall, not as long as I live. But you must humour me for a while, for you know better than anybody what my nerves suffered in that place. And I am very concerned about any gossip that might be out there in the world, even just a hint of it. If you are seen here so soon after my husband’s passing, I cannot think that it will go well for either one of us.”

  “But we are still friends, you say?” Daniel said, holding onto that small shred of hope as he fought a deep sense of disappointment.

  What else he could have expected, he could not say. Everything she said held water, everything made sense. There was not a single part of it that was unreasonable or irrational, even if fear was at the root of it all.

  Even without the threat of Nella West out in the county causing trouble, if he was seen at the Dower House too often, an inference might well be drawn by an outsider looking in. And then, in its own right, the whole thing would cause its own gossip, and people would begin to wonder if a man who called upon a woman who was so fresh in her mourning did not know her better than he ought.

  “Of course we are.” She rose to her feet also and stood before him.

  He was reminded of the time he had embraced her in his study and wished for all the world that he could do that again. But he knew, this time, that he would have to be led by her. She was the widow in mourning, not him, and he would have to take everything that followed at her pace, not his own.

  They stared into one another’s eyes for a few moments, neither moving, and he began to wonder if she would make some little move that would let him know she needed him, she wanted him.

  But, in the end, she said nothing. And what else could he have expected at that very moment?

  “Well, I daresay I ought to leave you now,” he said, almost as if the words were physically painful.

  “Yes, I daresay,” she said quietly. “You will take care, Mr Winchester, will you not? You will look after yourself.”

  “Of course,” he said and bowed. “And you must take care of yourself also.”

  As he walked back out into the weak sunshine, Daniel felt utterly bereft. She had been right, he knew she had.

  What a foolish thing he had done in calling upon her just weeks after her husband had been buried. But he could not have managed another moment without setting eyes on her, the woman he had come to love more than any he had ever known.

  Now all he would need was patience. But with several months of mourning left for her to observe, he felt sure that his patience was going to be stretched to its very extent. And even then, there was no assurance that Daniel Winchester would get what he wanted in the end. There was no agreement between them, not even the vaguest understanding.

  And yet there was something there, and he was sure that she felt a little of what he felt at least, if not more.

  Whatever the case, Eliza was well worth waiting for.

  Chapter 27

  “I think it is absolutely lovely. What a charming little Dower House,” Ariadne said enthusiastically. “But I do wish you had thought to have me over sooner. I know you are trying to do everything properly, my dear, but you need not have waited three full months. I am your closest friend, a sister in the absence of a real one, and I cannot think there would be anyone in all of England who would have objected to you seeing me before now.”

  “Oh, how I have missed you telling me off, Ariadne.” Eliza laughed and took Ariadne by the hand to draw her through the entrance hall and into the neat little drawing room. “But you are right, I did leave it too long. I suppose writing letters to you since I have been here at Lytton Hall has become something of a habit. I cannot think I ever wrote so many letters in my life.”

  “And whilst I do enjoy your letters immensely, my dear, I would much rather see you in person,” Ariadne said, clearly determined to have the final word on the matter.

  “I shall bear that in mind. And I must admit, I would be very pleased to have you here as a guest whenever you have a mind to come, my dear. I am only five months into my mourning, and I have begun to feel like a prisoner here.” She laughed lightly, but the fact of the matter was it was true.

  “Oh, what a beautiful little drawing room and such a calming shade of green. And to think, it is all yours, you need not share it,” Ariadne said. “Oh dear, I suppose that sounded rather insensitive.”

  “No, not at all. And it is not as if I have not thought the same thing myself. If I am honest, I felt the relief from the first moment. That first evening I spent in here alone, no Augustus, no decanter of brandy in my sight to make me feel nervous and unsettled.” She smiled a little at the memory. “I sat in this very chair until it was almost midnight. Despite the pangs of guilt, I felt free for the first time in a long time.”

  “It is peaceful here, Eliza. In a way, I must admit to a little envy. You truly do have a house all to yourself. I know it is not terribly big, but even the largest of houses seem to shrink somehow when you are sharing them. It is a sort of quiet little pleasure that most of us will never know. For instance, my father’s house is large, but my family are always in it. Wherever you go, there always seems to be so
mebody there already. And then one day, no doubt, I shall marry and move from my father’s house into my husband’s house and find the same set of circumstances exist. I think I would like a little time to myself as you now have.”

  “Yes, I daresay I ought not to complain about it. I truly am very comfortable here.”

  “But?” Ariadne said knowingly.

  “It is a strange thing, but I suppose I am a little lonely at times. Lonely in a way that I was not at Lytton Hall. I know that sounds ridiculous, for I was terribly isolated there, especially after Augustus chose not to allow me to leave the house at all. But I was not entirely alone in there.”

  “No, you had Mr Winchester to confide in,” Ariadne said and nodded. “You must miss his company.”

  “I suppose I do really,” Eliza said airily, feeling certain it was a little more than that.

  She had not spoken to Daniel in the months since he had last visited her. But, of course, he was only doing what she wanted by not coming, and so she knew she did not really have cause to feel aggrieved. But still, she did just a little.

  And her solitude at the Dower House had given her plenty of time to study his comings and goings until she had a very good idea of which days he visited his new employer at Lytton Hall and even the approximate time of his arrival and departure.

  Whilst that knowledge only afforded her a few moments of watching from afar as he rode his horse past the Dower House and up the long driveway to the hall itself, still she rarely missed the sight of him. And when she did miss him, when he did not come, or she had misjudged his own schedule, she always felt a little bereft.

  She supposed, in the end, brief moments in time absolutely characterized her friendship with Daniel Winchester. They had never been able to have more than a few minutes in each other’s company, and so it seemed fitting now that she put equal effort into catching a glimpse of him here and there for a few seconds.

  “What about your mother?” Ariadne said gently. “I am cautious in saying such a thing, for I know how she let you down. But perhaps the time has come for a little reconciliation. I am sure that the next few months of your mourning would fly by if you had somebody other than me to visit you. Perhaps for your own sake, a little variety in the company you keep would be very welcome.”

  “I understand entirely what you are saying, and I understand exactly why you are saying it. And I do appreciate your kind care of me, Ariadne,” Eliza said, and an image of her mother came to mind unbidden. “But I am afraid that I still cannot think of my mother, even the happier times, without my mind immediately searching for the details of everything that came after the happiness. I know the right thing to do now would be for me to forgive her, perhaps even one day to forgive my father. But I am not sure that I could yet say the words, much less mean them.”

  “You need not explain, not for a moment. I understand, and I shall not push you. After all, only you will know if and when you are ready to take them back into your life.”

  “I think the thing which tore at me, which made it all so very fresh in my mind again, was the idea that my brother Henry is engaged to the woman he loves. I know I ought to be more charitable and be pleased for him, for we were never enemies. But it made me see how important it was to my family that my brother be happy and have what he wanted in life, and for me to have anything but as long as my mode of living provided them with the funds to keep my happy brother in a most happy situation.”

  “When you put it like that, it makes my own blood boil, and they are not even my family. But do not rule them out entirely, keep the idea that you might one day want them back again tucked away somewhere in your heart, just in case.”

  “I shall do just that, Ariadne if only to please you,” Eliza said. “Now then, would you like a little tour around the place first, or would you like to do that after we have had some tea?”

  “Oh, tea please,” Ariadne said, and Eliza rose to her feet and crossed the room to the bell rope. “I think I have talked my throat dry.”

  “It is always the way when we two are together, is it not?” Eliza laughed.

  “We always seem to have so much to say.”

  “Goodness knows, that is true.” Eliza made her way back to her seat. “But I suppose our separation always makes it worse.”

  “Then we shall not be separated like this again, shall we?” Ariadne said as if to remind her that there was no reason for the two of them to converse by correspondence anymore.

  “No, we shall not.”

  “And hopefully I can do something to take the place of dear Mr Winchester. Although I am sure that I shall be a very poor substitute.” Ariadne laughed mischievously.

  “Of course you will not be a poor substitute. You will not be a substitute at all; you are my very dearest friend.”

  “Oh yes, I have no doubt. But I also have no doubt that Mr Winchester holds something of a special place in your heart too.”

  “Oh, I do not know about that. He is a very pleasant man, obviously, and he did a great deal to help me which I shall never forget.”

  “Yes, yes,” Ariadne said airily. “But you are not fooling me for a moment.”

  “Goodness me, whatever do you mean?”

  “Eliza, you know you may tell me anything in the world. At least you always did know that you could.”

  “Of course, of course. And nothing has changed, Ariadne. I know that I could trust you with the deepest, darkest secrets of my heart and never have a fear that you would do anything other than keep them close to you.” She shook her head. “You must forgive me, for fear and secrecy became as second nature at Lytton Hall. Another thing that easily becomes a habit, I daresay.”

  “I daresay but let us get back to the subject of Mr Winchester.”

  “Alright, if we must.” Eliza knew that it would be easier to simply give in to Ariadne. “And as I have already said, I do miss the little conversations we used to have over at the hall.”

  “Have you never seen him?”

  “He called upon me here not long after Augustus died. I am bound to say that I was feeling a little nervous about it, given the concerns I had about Nella West and any idea that she had told her lies to anyone other than my husband.”

  “Yes, that is understandable.”

  “And so, I did not allow him to stay for long. I could not even enjoy his company because of my nerves. I told him that he could not really call upon me whilst I was in mourning.”

  “For the whole year?” Ariadne said and seemed astonished.

  “You know what a serious business mourning is for widows. And believe me, for the widow of a Duke, one cannot help feeling the eyes of the county fiercely on you at all times.”

  “I understand that, but the county cannot see you. You are in this tiny Dower House on the edge of a vast estate, some miles even from the hall itself. Who is there to know if you have a friend call in? And who is there to say that you do not have some business with Mr Winchester? He is an attorney after all.”

  “I suppose so. And it would be nice to speak to him again. But I was most firm about my period of mourning, and so I cannot think that he will call upon me again whilst it continues. And even then, he might not. A year is a long time, is it not?”

  “It is not so long if feelings run deep.”

  “Deep?” Eliza said in a strangled squeal that made Ariadne laugh. “He is an acquaintance, a friend, why on earth have deep feelings suddenly fallen into this conversation?”

  “Because I have long suspected, my dear Eliza, that you have fallen in love with this man a little bit.”

  “But he was Augustus’ attorney.”

  “I know, and I am not suggesting, as Nella West did, that there was anything inappropriate between you, for I know you better than that. And you know me better than to suspect that I am casting aspersions.” Ariadne’s tone had regained its familiar admonishment. “But there was a little closeness there. Not a physical closeness, obviously, but a good deal of understanding betwee
n the two of you. My dear, he was always something of a central theme in your letters to me, always there to help when you needed him.”

  “Yes, he rescued me more than once, and I am still grateful to him. But to say that I have fallen in love with him is to stretch the facts. I have a very high regard of him, that much is true, but nothing more.” Even as Eliza spoke the words, she knew that they were not entirely true.

  She had never contemplated the idea that she might love Daniel Winchester. After all, it was a complication that she had never been foolish enough to entertain when Augustus had still been alive. And even in the months since he had died, her nerves had not entirely settled down. There was always the fear that Nella West might suddenly reappear, ready to spit venomous lies and disrupt Eliza’s new-found peace completely.