“I’m sorry Your Grace I can’t…” Tears slid down her cheeks. She brushed them away with the back of a hand. She knew that once she started crying, she wouldn’t be able to stop. She tried to put all thoughts away.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace, I’m not quite usually like this,” Sofia said, truthfully. She wiped her face with the back of her hands.
“I’m sorry Rebecca,” Devon said. He looked at his hands. Sofia knew that crying was unconventional. She couldn’t quite help herself.
“Rebecca, I was wondering if you would like to accompany us for dinner” Devon seemed to have slightly rushed that sentence. His eyes were handsome, dark and intense.
Sofia felt conflicted. She really just wanted to lie in bed and lament her situation.
“Yes, of course Your Grace,” she said. She was eager to please this amiable stranger, who had opened his house to her. The duke smiled, the first smile she’d seen on him. It changed his face entirely, making Sofia’s stomach twist. Could see trust this man?
“I will see you at dinner then,” he said, leaving her alone in the bedroom.
Chapter 4
Dinner with the Duchess
Sofia spent the rest of the day trying to figure out her next move. What would she do? She couldn’t find any reasonable answer. Her father had rushed her out of the house in such a rush. They had made it so far out of London, yet he had still been murdered. What dreadful deeds had her father done? Who was involved? Was Sofia’s family involved? She had no idea what to do. She decided to just try to enjoy her time here, for a little while. She could think about the future later.
Duke Devonshire had invited her to dinner. He had said, us? Who was us? Sofia had no idea. A while after breakfast, Mary came back in the room to make up the bed. Sofia was glad she’d have fresh sheets for sleep that night. It had been awful sleeping with dirty feet the night before. Sofia sat in the chair, watching Mary make up the bed. The slim young girl worked so swiftly.
“Rebecca?” Sofia was confused by what Mary had said, a few seconds too long passed.
“Yes?” Sofia felt quite silly for a second.
“After lunch is bought up for you, would you like me to show you the grounds?”
Sofia thought for a couple of seconds. She didn’t want the man who had chased her down to find her. By the same regard, she didn’t want to make the duke and his household staff suspicious of her, however. She nodded, tentatively.
“Yes, I would like that quite a lot.” Even if the man was in the area, he would be looking for a homeless, scared girl, not a maid and her Lady.
She ate lunch in the room, at a table outfitted with paper, feather quills and ink. She had a light lunch, ignoring the cakes but managing to eat two tiny triangles of sandwich. The cold meat was good. She stared down at the table that was she was seated at. A letter writing table. Which of her relatives would have her? Which of her relatives did Sofia believe would hide her from the debtor? What had her father done? Sofia felt tired, unbelievably tired. She felt like crawling into that soft bed and sleeping for years and years and years. She decided to lay down for a while, closing her eyes.
It seemed like seconds later that Mary returned. She gave Sofia a shawl, due to the cold weather. They walked around the grounds, the cool air seemed to make Sofia feel a lot better. As they walked, Mary held a parasol, despite the sun being quite hidden. Sofia had pale white skin that she took very good care of, usually.
The girls spotted Duke Devonshire riding on his horse, with his butler. Mary didn’t know if they’d recognize them, but they did indeed see the girls and rode up. The prince loomed over them on his horse. With a swift movement he dismounted, along with his butler.
“You look much better Rebecca, how are you feeling?”
Sofia decided to tell the truth.
“I do feel much better, thank you Your Grace,” Sofia said, curtsying.
“Do you ride, Rebecca?” He asked.
Sofia had riding lessons as a child, but as she grew she had less and less time for them.
“Not as well as you Your Grace,” Sofia said, demurely. She couldn’t help but smile at him when he spoke.
Devon laughed, lightly.
“Take the reins of Lolly here, she’s a gentle horse,” Devon said. Sofia felt butterflies in her stomach. This duke was asking her to ride with him?
“I don’t have riding boots on, Your Grace, or a riding jacket” Sofia said, making excuses. To be truthful, she wasn’t sure if she still could ride, she’d hate to fall off her horse. The scary man might be looking for her still as well.
“Then you need more riding practice,” The duke said laughing.
“Don’t forget about dinner, Rebecca.” He swung back onto the horse in a graceful movement. Rebecca and Mary watched the duke and his butler leave.
***
They walked around the large grounds, Mary pointing out the sundial and the history of the manor. The girl had a sweet quiet voice that fit her delicate body. She made Sofia feel like quite the whale. It took a while before Sofia decided to ask what she had been wanting to.
“Who... Who is to be present at dinner tonight?”
“I believe that Her Grace, The Dowager Duchess of Devonshire will be present, and Duke Devonshire’s sister, Lady Emily.”
Sofia absorbed that silently. She was used to the precarious scene of upper class British life but being a woman on the run was a new problem. She decided to say little and less at the dinner.
Sofia only had a few hours to think between the time she was led back to her room and the time Mary called for dinner. She spent it deliberating which of her family would be the best to contact. None came to her mind. They’d all ask about her father, and she wasn’t ready to talk about that yet. She supposed she should go to the Bow Street Runnerspolice, but she had no idea what she would say. When Mary came to Sofia’s room she was still dressed in her morning wear. Mary changed Sofia for dinner wear, changing her dress from the pale blue to a dark green. Sofia felt beautiful in it. Since Sofia was new to the manor, Mary led her to the dining room.
The dining room was large, painted white. There were many paintings on the wall, Sofia saw one of Devon on the wall, along with his family. There was a high roof, with a massive chandelier. There were long billowing curtains that had been drawn shut, with the fireplace burning. It was a rather cheery scene that was offset with the solitary figures of The duke, and two women. Sofia presumed them to be the duchess and Lady Dean. She had been to many fancy dinners in Britain before, so she acted how she would have before her father’s death. With her chin up.
Devon made an impressive figure at the head of the table, his back towards the fireplace. His mother and sister were seated to his right. Sofia chose the seat opposite them, seated facing them. They hadn’t started the first meal yet, she decided this would be the best place for her. She had no idea what the duke had said to them regarding her. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.
“So here is the mystery woman,” The duchess said.
Her body was old and crooked, her neck thin and long. Sofia could see a resemblance between the duchess and her son, the duke. Age had pulled away at her face, but Sofia could see she had high cheekbones and fierce dark eyes. They matched the eyes and facial structure of the duke perfectly. Sofia felt extremely intimidated by this older woman, just as she had been by the duke.
“I’ve spent the last three nights trying to get the duke to invite his cousin, Lady Martha, over for dinner,” The duchess said, her voice loud and imperious.
“He wouldn’t have it! Yet here is a stranger at our table.” Thankfully, Her Grace was interrupted by the butler.
“First meal is ready Your Grace.”
Devon waved the head butler off, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.
There was a meal of fish, and meat and two different wines that were offered to Sofia and the others. The duke gave his mother several harsh looks during the meal. Sofia felt awful she was to bring
this turmoil into the duke’s household.
“Whatever is your name my Dear?” The duchess asked, questioningly. Her eyes were forceful, Sofia swallowed her spoonful of fish soup.
“My name is Rebecca Langton, your Grace,” Sofia answered. She wanted to speak tentatively, hide like a mouse, but instead she spoke loudly. Her father had always said it was best to answer force with force.
“Any relation of The Duke of Glastonbury?” The duchess asked, her eyes stern. Sofia had no idea how to answer. The duchess was a stern, shrewd woman. Sofia didn’t doubt that she knew absolutely everybody.
“No, no relation” Sofia answered, sipping her soup slowly. Sofia wished the older lady would just drop it, let her eat in peace. She showed no inclination of doing so, however.
“Who would be your father, my dear?” she asked.
Sofia sipped her soup, wishing for any interruption.
“Robert, Robert Langton,” Sofia said. She knew it was wrong to lie, but she also knew that she didn’t know what her future held for her. She didn’t want to open up to this strange, impressive woman.
“Mother, if Rebecca wanted to be interrogated, she would have stayed at your house,” The duke interrupted. He had been watching the exchange between Sofia and the duchess with sharp eyes. There seemed to be an unresolved dispute between the duchess and the duke that Sofia hadn’t failed to notice. The duchess dropped her line of interrogation.
Meals after meals were bought out. Sofia began getting fuller and fuller. As a lady, she ate little and ate daintily. The duke’s sister, Lady Emily, was a strapping woman, and ate heartily. After a while, The duchess said,
“Emily, If you ate less, you might still fit into those beautiful dresses.” At that sentence The duchess waved a hand at Sofia. Sofia suddenly realized, she didn’t know whose dresses she was wearing. Lady Dean’s spoon clattered into her bowl, and she rushed to leave the table. Sofia felt awful. The duke stared his mother down.
“Was that terribly necessary?” He said, leaving the table after his sister. Sofia felt terribly awkward and uncomfortable. It was strange however; the arguments made her feel at home. She had no idea what to do, so she stayed at the table eating the food bought out to her. The food was delicious, the wine, better.
“Do you have eyes for my son?” The duchess said, a piece of rabbit speared on her fork. The words themselves were accusatory. The way the sentence sounded, however, could be synonymous with asking Sofia if she liked the ballet.
“Anyone would be delighted to have The duke as a husband,” Sofia said, in response. She hadn’t known what to say but had always hated awkward silences.
“I see” The duchess said. Now that Sofia thought about it, did she have eyes for Devon?
After all, he was lovely.
Chapter 5
The Duke’s
Troublesome Family
As usual, Devon’s family was driving him mad. His mother had picked a fight with both him, and his sister, and had quite probably made poor Rebecca feel estranged. The duchess was getting older he knew, but that was no excuse for her poor manners. He had raced after his sister in the hopes of making her feel quite better. When he knocked on the door to Emily’s room, a maid answered.
“I’m sorry but she doesn’t wish to see anyone, Your Grace,” The maid curtsied. The duke had no time for this.
“Emily, Emily please I need to speak to you,” Devon said, calling over the maid’s head. He heard a sigh inside the room.
“Well, you might as well then.”
Devon screwed his eyes up temporarily. He loved his family although he was quite sick of the politics. He came into the bedroom. Lady Emily was seated in bed, blankets pulled up to her chin. Devon sat down in a chair in the room, wishing he was anywhere else.
“I can’t wait to leave, I miss home” Lady Emily sobbed. Lady Emily lived with her husband mostly, but often came to the country house when duty was due. Lady Emily was nearing her time, with her third child. She had bought her doctor with her, and a group of maids. The doctor advised the fresh air would be good for the birth, and Lady Emily’s husband didn’t seem to like spending time with her near her time of birth. He loved his children, Devon knew, but he loved his work more.
“This stress isn’t good for the baby,” Devon said. Lady Emily had always been a stressed, sickly woman, and had birthed stressed sickly babies.
“I know,” Lady Emily sniffed. Devon knew that the dowager duchess only acted this way because she wanted the best for her daughter, and her son. Himself. He didn’t know how best to explain this to Emily, however. He felt that their mother wanted to build resilience in her daughter, but surely went about it the wrong way. He searched his mind for a way to express this to Emily but came up with none.
“I’m going to leave you to rest, while I return to dinner.”
He worried slightly about leaving the dowager alone with Rebecca. She seemed like a capable girl. He had seen her walking with Mary today, surveying the gardens. If truth be told, the duke didn’t want Rebecca to leave any time soon. He wanted to learn more about her, where she came from, what had led to her showing up at his door that late at night. She hardly seemed like the same woman, dressed in his sister’s silks and her hair done well. She seemed returned to her former glory.
The dinner proceeded well late into the night, with cakes being served at around 10pm. He offered Rebecca wine after wine. It was good elderberry wine, made from his own vineyards. She seemed to agree, she had several glasses, but her grace never faltered. Thankfully, the dowager seemed to have had her fill of gossip for the night and refrained from questioning Rebecca in the duke’s presence again. He instead satisfied himself with asking Rebecca her views on the current wars, and British views. He was surprised and intrigued about her knowledge of the world.
She had wide world views, expressing herself eloquently. Devon knew that he was falling deep into a trap that he hadn’t yet experienced. Was this love? He admired this strange girl who had appeared at his back door. He found himself falling deeper and deeper into the conversation, barely remembering that his mother was present. That was, until, she excused herself.
There was an odd look on the dowager’s face, one Devon hadn’t seen since his father was alive. He wondered briefly what it meant but was once again drawn into conversation with Rebecca. It took little time before the words slipped out of his mouth, one after one, like unwanted frogs exiting his stomach.
“I would be delighted if you would agree to ride with me tomorrow. I wish to hunt rabbits, but more so I want to show you more of my estate,"
The words were clumsy, fool's words, they rang hollow in his own ears. Why was courtship so very difficult? He was a duke however, he mentally reminded himself. He should be strong. Brave. Wise.
The girl seemed hesitant for reasons the duke couldn’t fathom.
“Hunting is no women’s sport,” she said, delicately picking at her cake. Despite her reluctance to agree to join him, she didn’t seem to want to retire to bed either.
“I promise, I won’t tell your father” he said, teasing. Rebecca seemed to pale at that, her fork slipping and skidding on her plate.
“I’m sorry Your Grace,” She said, smiling.
“It seems all this wine has gone to my head. I’m afraid I must retire for the night” Rebecca said. If the duke’s words had sounded foolish, hers sounded like a deceiver’s tongue. There was so much more he must know.
“I concede,” The duke said, smiling. He decided he would ask again tomorrow. Perhaps after fresh sleep and fresh sheets Rebecca would desire to come out with him. He waved for Mary to see to Rebecca and called for his courses to be taken away.
It was some time later, in the duke’s small personal sitting room, that he found himself staring deep into his whiskey, swirling it with one hand. He couldn’t stop thinking about Rebecca. Every movement she made was graceful, and every word she said was a song. Was he smitten? The duke thought he was. He put his glass down, waving
over his Butler.
“Smith, I wish to retire to bed.”
Despite himself, he took his glass of liquor with him as he departed. As the Butler undressed him, Devon’s musings got the better of himself and he asked Smith,
“Have you ever been in love, Smith?”
He was more thinking out loud than actually curious about Smith’s personal life, but the young man’s hands wavered as he undid Devon’s collar.
“Why do you ask that your Grace?” Smith said, regaining composure.
“Just wondering aloud, my man,” Devon said dismissively. He hadn’t expected Smith to react in this way. Perhaps he had wives and a mistress, or something else Devon didn’t know about.
“Wake me at first light, would you please?”
Devon had hated early mornings for the previous few months, this morning was different however. He awoke with pep and vigor he hadn’t felt in years. He took careful detail dressing, making sure it was all quite right.
“Have my mare saddled for after breakfast, would you my lad?” Devon ordered Smith.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Smith said, attentively.
“Another horse too. And wake Rebecca."
Despite Rebecca’s insistence she knew naught how to ride, she rode beautifully. Mary had outfitted Rebecca in a riding jacket and shoes, she looked perfectly the lady. They rode side by side, Devon more focused on Rebecca than foxes or rabbits.
“Please do try to not focus on my Mother terribly much,” The duke said.
“She often feels like she must be two parents now my father is gone,” he continued, “and she tries awfully hard.”
Rebecca had nodded that that, gently.
“I have gathered that impression from her.”
The duke laughed despite himself if there was ever an understatement. They rode together, slowly. Devon pointed out his favorite flowers and when events of importance had occurred on the grounds. He didn’t want to push the horses, or Rebecca. His butler trailed behind him, ready if the need be for Devon to call.
Regency Romances Page 27