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

by Bridget Barton

  And then there was Miles, for she had still not quite forgotten him.

  “What is it, Eliza? Have I upset you?”

  “No, of course, you have not. You never upset me, Ariadne, and you must always speak freely.”

  “Then why do you suddenly look so sad?”

  “I can hardly tell if it is because I miss Daniel Winchester or if I am still saddened by my loss of Miles.”

  “You still think of Miles?”

  “Not very often, for I have never encouraged myself to do so. I have always done my best to divert my attention away from any thoughts of him when they occur. But I suppose because I have done things in that way, I have never truly been able to let go of him.”

  “I daresay it did not help to see him at the Duke’s funeral.”

  “No, it did not really. And yet hardly anything of worth passed between us. He simply gave me his condolences, and I thanked him. It was as if there was nothing else to say.”

  “Perhaps you have let him go more than you think?”

  “Perhaps I have. And yet I cannot help thinking I was simply startled to see him there and the whole thing had taken me off-guard at a time when my heart could take no more.”

  “I cannot help feeling I should not have begun this conversation. I have forced you to think about things that you are not yet ready to think about, and I daresay that all you need is a little more time to decide what it is your heart truly wants. Or who it is.”

  “Perhaps it is nobody at all. Perhaps all my heart really wants is peace and contentment, not excitement and fear with the ever-present threat of loss hanging over everything. If you do not give your heart away, you do not risk losing it, and you do not risk having it broken.”

  “Perhaps, as with the idea of your mother, I should leave you to think about it at your leisure. I shall not pursue it anymore. Especially not now that tea has arrived,” she said with a bright smile as the door to the drawing room opened and the housekeeper bustled in with the tray.

  Chapter 28

  A few weeks later, Eliza was out on the edge of the Dower House grounds when Daniel Winchester rode slowly by on his way up to the hall. She was, of course, there by design, feeling certain that he would be due to attend the hall on that day.

  She had set herself up with a little trivet and some scissors and was making a pretence of clipping some of the wildflowers which grew just outside the boundary, hoping that their paths would cross at some point as she did so.

  When the sound of hooves drew her attention, she looked up and was pleased to see Daniel looking back at her. He slowed his horse, although he looked at her a little cautiously.

  She was in the eighth month of her period of mourning, a time when such strict observance to its rituals seemed naturally to lessen.

  “Good morning, Mr Winchester,” she called out to him and was pleased when he drew his horse to a halt and smiled over at her.

  She had not seen him at such close quarters since that day so many months before in the little drawing room of the Dower House. He seemed more handsome than ever, with his pale hair and blue eyes and the commanding way he rode a horse.

  When he jumped down from the horse, Eliza felt her heartbeat quicken and allowed herself to enjoy the anticipation for a few moments. After all, she was the one who had waited for him. She was the one who had contrived to be in just the right place at just the right time so that she might see him.

  And yet, the old feelings of fear seemed to be dancing around the corners of her mind. She did what she could to ignore them, but she knew they were there all the same.

  “Good morning,” he said as he led his horse over to where she was standing.

  It had been so long since she had seen him close that his height and the broadness of his shoulders struck her afresh.

  He really was such a strong-looking man with such a steady, calm manner, that it was little wonder she had felt that feeling of safety with him from the very first.

  So many memories came to her that she could hardly pick through them. There were flashes of images, one after the other. Daniel sitting opposite her in the morning room, his handsome face kind and caring as he listened to her upset at her mother’s letter. And then Eliza running for her life, only to find herself suddenly safe in his study, protected by the man who would have fought the Duke with his bare hands if it had been necessary.

  “I hope you are well, Mr Winchester. You certainly look as if you are in good health,” she said and felt suddenly a little shy.

  “I am very well, thank you. And I hope that you are managing nicely here?” he said and peered around her and the thick foliage to the Dower House beyond.

  “Yes, I am managing very well. It is very peaceful here. There is never any drama of any kind.”

  “And I am sure that you are very glad of it.”

  “Yes, very glad,” she said and wondered if it was even possible to attain the old feeling of familiarity and closeness that they had experienced at the hall.

  The circumstances had been very different, of course, and they had seen one another almost every day.

  “But not too quiet, I hope?” he said as if he too were feeling a little gap that time and distance had opened between them.

  “I have lately begun to receive guests, Mr Winchester. Well, two really. Just Ariadne and Lady Hanbury.” She laughed. “But I am sure that you might have easily guessed who it would be.”

  “I am only glad that you can meet your friends without any concerns to cloud the time you have together.”

  “Yes, it is a great relief to me.”

  “I am sure it must be.” He stared at her for a moment, so intently that she was almost made uncomfortable by it.

  “And work continues to go well for you, Mr Winchester?” she said, suddenly afraid of her own feelings and determined to draw back a little, even though they had done no more than exchange the most meaningless pleasantries.

  “I am here now only twice a week, which means I have been able to expand my business with a number of other clients. I daresay it was never a good idea to keep all of my eggs in one basket, as the saying goes.”

  “No, I understand that entirely. But is the new Duke less demanding than the old one?”

  “He is not only less demanding, but he has a far better idea of the duties of an attorney. He does not ask me to step outside my ordinary bounds and deal with little domestic matters, which is a relief to me. The new Duke is simply a client, whereas the old Duke was much more of an employer, taking up every spare moment I had and seeing to it that I did not spend any attention elsewhere.”

  “I suppose he was like that with most people.”

  “Indeed, he was. I would not say this to anybody but you, but I do not miss him for a moment.”

  “And neither do I, even though I still pity him for the suffering he heaped upon himself.”

  “That is very generous of you given his behaviour, especially towards the end.” For a moment they were both silent, both clearly reliving the last day they had been at Lytton Hall together. “It seems like such a long time ago now, and yet it is not even a year, is it?”

  “No, it is just eight months. But yes, it almost seems like a lifetime ago.”

  “I think it seems so long to me because I have missed you greatly,” he said and suddenly the conversation had been plunged into very deep waters.

  “Mr Winchester, please,” Eliza said quietly, although wondering what on earth she was doing there if not to hear him tell her such things.

  She knew why she watched out of her window for any sign of his passing. She knew why she had spent days coming up with her little plan to happen upon him on the edge of the Dower House grounds. Eliza had missed him greatly, and she thought about him every day, whether or not she admitted the importance of such a thing to herself.

  But now that he was before her, her fear began to take over. Now that he had told her what she wanted to hear, she wanted, perversely, to turn and run from him. She d
espised herself at that moment for being so contrary, so ridiculous, but there was nothing she could do to control it.

  “Forgive me, but it is true. I do not miss Augustus Tate, but at least when he was alive I could see you. Even if it was only for a few moments in the day, even though at the time it was never enough for me, now I would give anything to go back.” He took one step towards her, and instinctively Eliza looked around for any sign of a witness. “I know that you know how I feel about you. And if you did not want to hear anything about it, you would have waved, smiled, and disappeared back into the Dower House the moment I rode by.” His voice seemed deeper and richer than ever, and his eyes refused to set hers free.

  “You have to understand, Mr Winchester, that I am very afraid of gossip.”

  “So afraid that you would let it ruin your life? So afraid that you would choose not to take your own path now that you are free to do it?”

  “But I am not free to take any path, not yet.”

  “In just four months, Eliza, you will be free to do whatever you wish. That is all I need to hear from you now, that is all I ask. I would not come here every day and make things difficult for you, you know that. I have stayed away, even when I could easily have called upon you and have nobody know of it. For heaven’s sake, did we not used to manage exactly the same thing at the hall?”

  “You make it sound as if Nella West was right all along.”

  “Nella West was not right, nothing will change that. She did not see what was really there; she saw what she wanted to see. She saw the very worst, the tawdriest, and there is not a person in this world who could accuse you of such a thing. But there was something there, whether you like it or not. It does not matter about some imaginary ideas of what other people might think of it; it has nothing to do with them. It was not something that was done; it was something that just was. The feeling existed, and I am certain that you felt it too.”

  “But you were my only friend, Mr Winchester. And you helped me greatly.”

  “Are you telling me that I was nothing more to you than a solution to your problems? Nothing more than a rescuer on hand whenever you needed?” He was not angry, just intense.

  The conversation was getting away from her, and she knew it. At first, she had feared their separation had pushed them apart a little. And now, as she looked at him, she was afraid that it had done quite the reverse. It had loosened his tongue, and he seemed determined to declare his feelings for her quite openly.

  Of course, that was something that Eliza had never experienced in her entire life, not even with Miles. Miles Gainsborough formed that part of society where a thing was only ever hinted at or put most genteelly at best. But there was something earthier about Daniel Winchester, something so much more real, and the sudden intensity of it, the surprise of a thing most unexpected, was making her tongue-tied and nervous.

  “No, that is not what I am saying. But I am sure that such a thing builds a certain regard of its own. That does not mean that there is anything more to it than that.” She could hardly believe what she was saying; she knew it was not true.

  “I am sure that it does build a regard of its own, something quite separate. But just because it does, it does not mean that love does not exist by its side. It does not mean that attraction does not exist. You are taking two very separate things and treating them as one. Life is not like that, Eliza. Life is not always so simple.”

  “And do you think my life has been particularly simple, Mr Winchester?”

  “No, not the circumstances of your life,” he said and finally seemed to be growing a little angry. “And for heaven’s sake, after everything, can you not call me Daniel? Do we not have that much understanding between us at least?”

  “What do you mean the circumstances of my life were not simple?”

  “What I mean is that I understand how hard it was for you. I understand how isolated you were, how afraid you were of your husband, how much you did not want to be there. I understand that you lost the man you were intended to marry. None of it was simple, I am sure.” He paused for a moment as if ordering his thoughts. “But you have a very determinedly simple way of looking at things.”

  “How so?” she said in such a haughty manner she was reminded of the earliest days of their acquaintance.

  “You turn your back on feelings instead of looking at them. And when you do look at them, you mix them up with others as if to lessen the effect. I know that you feel something for me, Eliza, and yet you choose to mix it with fear as if to water it down.”

  “Feelings do not exist in isolation, Daniel, they cross over one another, back and forth.”

  “But that is not an excuse for denying them.”

  “And you think I am denying my feelings for you, do you?” She was beginning to grow angry herself, but at least it was preferable to her fear.

  “Yes,” he said simply.

  “I do not know what else to say to you.”

  “Then let us stop this arguing and talk about the future. Eliza can there be nothing for me to hope for when your period of mourning is finished?”

  “You are asking me to make a decision in the future, and I do not think I can do that.”

  “No, I should have guessed,” he said and sighed. “But if you had any inclination to be with me, thinking about it now instead of thinking about it in a few weeks’ time would make no difference. Perhaps you have other reservations.”

  “Other reservations?”

  “I realize that you were not happy with Augustus Tate, but he was a Duke, and I am an attorney.”

  “And you think that I am a title hunter? A woman who looks for wealth?” She gave a sharp, mirthless laugh. “Goodness me, and I had thought that you had let go of such ideas as we came to know one another. But it seems likely that you have thought that of me all along.”

  “Nurse your anger if that is what suits you, Eliza. I am perfectly prepared to admit that I may not be right.”

  “How very gracious,” she snapped.

  “Perhaps it is something else altogether. Perhaps it is Miles Gainsborough,” he said and glared at her.

  “Miles Gainsborough? You think that I have seen Miles Gainsborough?” She was suddenly furious.

  “No, not of late. But he attended the funeral, did he not?”

  “That was eight months ago, Daniel.”

  “But I can see from the look on your face that the very mention of his name still has the capacity to upend you. And so, I can see that I have, for a very long time, been labouring under a misapprehension.”

  “I hardly shared two words with Miles Gainsborough on that day,” she said a little defensively.

  “Then you do not still love him?”

  “I … I …” she said, not knowing how to answer him.

  “Then we have been speaking at cross purposes, Eliza.” He paused for a long time and looked at her with such longing that it hurt her heart. “Forgive me, there is not a single part of this conversation that I would not take back if I could,” he said and bowed at her. “I am very pleased to know that you are settling in here and are content. Take very good care of yourself.” And then he turned his horse and walked back towards the gravel driveway.

  As he climbed back into his saddle, Eliza stood and stared at him. She knew that she wanted him to stop, to climb back down from his horse’s back and to stay a little longer.

  But her feelings were so raw. She was afraid, she was angry, she was confused, and she was suddenly so very tired. In the end, she could say nothing at all, not even to bid him farewell, and she watched in silence as he heeled his horse and slowly began to make his way to the hall.

  Chapter 29

  “Obviously I am very grateful to you for your hard work these past months.” Dixon Musgrave smiled with genuine warmth.

  More than once, Daniel had wondered what the last few years might have been like had he worked for Dixon Musgrave rather than the previous Duke. The two men, albeit cousins, could not have been
more different, and it was true to say that he had much preferred working for the new Duke.

  Dixon Musgrave was a much steadier man, one of common sense who was not at the mercy of his own emotions. And, of course, Dixon Musgrave had arrived with a wife.

  He was already married, and seemingly, the match was a much more suitable one than the previous Duke had made. If Daniel had only ever worked for Dixon Musgrave, he would likely never have felt the need to walk away. He would never have met Eliza, and he would never have reached such a crossroads in his life.

  Daniel knew that this particular crossroads had been in sight from the first moment he had met Eliza.

  Even that day in the chapel when he had been so determined to be disdainful, he had not been able to deny her beauty. How quickly he had overturned his own determination to see the young Duchess as complicit in her circumstances. And how quickly he had seen beneath the self-contained, aloof exterior to the woman beneath, the woman he had fallen in love with.