Regency Romances

by Grace Fletcher

  ***

  If having to be reminded that the wealthy go through their own heartaches and pain just like everyone else wasn’t enough awkwardness in two years, the fact that she was thinking of the Duke of Kent’s broad chest hours after sauntering out of his bedroom should hit the mark.

  Laura heaved a long sigh and buried her face in her hands. From the gazebo that she sat in, she swept her eyes over to the field to distract herself. Watching James and Bruce chasing some butterflies was fun, but her thoughts wouldn’t stop. It had been an accident, but she could have sworn that His Grace wasn’t the least remorseful that she had seen him in his undergarments. The confused look on his face had given way to an amused one, and while she had quickly gripped James and Bruce’s hands and run out of the room, she heard him heave a sigh and then chuckle.

  A chuckle. It was the least of the response she had thought her odd behavior could have gotten. More so, she hadn’t thought she could still feel embarrassed about it five hours later.

  “Just get it out of your mind, Laura. He probably didn’t even think about it anymore since you left the room like a little mouse.”

  The problem, however, wasn’t whether the duke thought about her, Laura sighed. It was the unending image of his chest in her head. She knew that she had secretly admired him in the past two years, but she hadn’t thought that seeing the traces of brown hairs on his chest or noticing the firm curves of his arms and shoulders would have a substantial effect on her mind.

  “Miss Williams!”

  Laura jolted out of her thoughts, thankful for the distraction. In the middle of the field, Bruce was on his knees and was raising his fist so she could see it. “I caught one!” he yelled. “I caught one, Miss Williams!”

  “Careful now!” Laura yelled back. “Those butterflies can be fragile. You don’t want to hurt it.”

  As expected, Bruce frowned and then stared at his hand. Slowly, he released his grip and then watched happily as the butterfly flapped its wings and then flew away into the field.

  “You let it go?” James asked him.

  “We weren’t going to keep them, anyway.” Bruce shrugged.

  Laura couldn’t stop smiling at his innocence. She had stepped out of the gazebo to join them on the field. “We should get back into the house,” she said. “Josephine ought to have had the cooks prepare lunch already.”

  James glanced at her excitedly. “Any chance she has made any chicken soup?”

  She shook her confusedly at him. It was the second time the soup had come up. “You want a bowl of chicken soup for lunch?”

  James shook his head and looked away. “Never mind,” he said.

  Laura stepped towards him and adjusted the lock of his hair. “I could get the cook to prepare it for supper,” she suggested. “She could….”

  “It wouldn’t be the same.” James interrupted.

  Laura shook her head confusedly at him again. Recently, she felt far away from him, and mostly because he said fewer words around her. He turned on his heels and began to stomp towards the manor while Bruce inched close, held her hand and began to pull her towards the manor too. “Come on, Miss Williams.” he grinned.

  Laura tried to take it off her mind, but she couldn’t. Something felt wrong with her and with everything in the past few weeks. It wasn’t just the constant thoughts of the Duke of Kent in her head. It was the way her mind sometimes slipped off to that morning with Her Grace, and the way James treated her as if she was doing something wrong.

  Or perhaps it was the case that she wasn’t doing what she was supposed to do.

  Chapter 3

  The Dowager Duchess

  It wasn’t the thrilling vacation in the buzzing cities of England that she had hoped for, but the Dowager Duchess came back home with a broad smile on her face. Once the coach pulled up in front of the house, she flipped the window open, stared at the large manor that had been her home since her late husband brought her down to Kent and gritted her teeth with joy. At least, she was back to the only place in the world where everything made perfect sense. She always had a hard time understanding why people yelled at the top of their voices at each other in English cities.

  “Your Grace, we have arrived at the manor.” the coachman announced.

  Servants hurried down the steps and helped her out of the coach in seconds. Despite the happiness that she felt from seeing them all, she kept a straight face and pointed to the coach. “Get my things!” she grunted.

  There, that made perfect sense, she thought to herself as each of them scampered quickly to pull out her bags from the coach. With a much fiercer look, she climbed up the stairs that led to the front porch and prepared herself to be welcomed by more servants.

  As expected, the doorman bowed in greeting and quickly pulled the door open for her. She didn’t spare him a glance, neither did she bother to respond to the throngs of servants that bowed their heads and slightly bent their knees to greet her. She briskly made her way through the large hall and dumped her handbag in Josephine’s hands as soon as the housekeeper approached her.

  “There, get it to my room and inform the duke that his mother is back home,” she instructed.

  Josephine was initially making an effort to greet her, but she clasped her lips shut and snapped her fingers to get the attention of her daughter, Andrea, who quickly rushed towards her and collected her bag. She disappeared down the hall as quickly as she had appeared.

  “His Grace actually thought you would come in today,” Josephine said quietly, bowing her head as she turned back to the Dowager Duchess. “He said to tell you that he would be at his library most of the day.”

  “Library?” The Dowager Duchess asked, muttering under her breath. “I thought that chapter of his life had ended.”

  The housekeeper kept her lips shut while the Dowager Duchess turned on her heels and began to stomp up the stairs to the first floor of the manor instead. A few minutes ago she was glad to be back to a place where she made everyone anxious by ignoring or grunting at them. However, because of the luxury she had missed in the past week, perhaps she had forgotten how saddening it always was that the Duke of Kent hadn’t moved on from the death of his wife.

  It was two years already!

  She tried to have a blank expression on her face by the time she got to the entrance of the library. She had expected to find her son behind his desk, but the chair was empty. Instead, he stood at the window with his back to the door and oblivious to her presence until she was a few feet away.

  “Mother?” he said softly, glancing over his shoulder at her and then stepping forward to hug her. “I thought it was you when I heard the coach a few minutes ago.”

  “And you couldn’t come to welcome me with a warm hug? How long have I been gone, two weeks? A month?”

  He grinned humorously at her. “There are over fifty servants in the house, Mother. I am sure you received the elaborate welcoming that you wanted.”

  “Doesn’t matter if you aren’t in the hall or sitting room to do the needful,” she replied, rolling her eyes at him.

  “Well, here I am, and here you are,” he teased back.

  As much as she was happy that he wasn’t hiding behind a desk or drowning himself with scotch, she knew when the smiles on his face weren’t from a happy place. She held his arm tenderly, intending to ask him why he was alone in the library again, but paused as she stared over his shoulder at the view of the Hartley Meadow. Through the window, she could see James and Bruce cheering happily on the field. James seemed to be quite elated as a butterfly escaped before he could clasp his hands around it.

  “Soothing, isn’t it?”

  She glanced at the duke, noticing a sad smile on his face as he turned to the window again.

  “I always thought it may take a long time for them to grow…for me to…to get used to everything…but….”

  “But it is happening so fast,” she finished for him. “Children come of age faster than parents think.”


  He nodded and then stared quietly through the window again. In the distance, James and Bruce obliviously jumped around, getting more butterflies to fly out of their reach.

  The Dowager Duchess didn’t bother to mutter a word to distract her son from the view. Despite the faraway look on his face, the duke seemed to have found his peaceful place. When his second son, Bruce, tried to catch a butterfly and almost succeeded, he inched forward excitedly and gritted his teeth. Eventually, the Dowager Duchess realized it wasn’t just Bruce, James, and the butterflies that amused him; it was also the dainty governess that looked over them.

  “I caught one! I caught one, Miss Williams!” Bruce was yelling out of the blue, getting the governess’ attention.

  Dainty Miss Williams was earlier sitting underneath a gazebo in the middle of the field, but once Bruce caught her attention, she yelled a few words at him with equal enthusiasm. Bruce seemed convinced by her speech and freed the butterfly he had found. A broad smile dotted his face, and the Dowager Duchess noticed how that caused his father to smile too.

  “How long have you been here, Andrew?” she finally asked.

  Kent’s gaze didn’t leave the view in front of him, although he heaved a sigh to indicate that he had heard her. “Long enough,” he whispered.

  “If they make you so happy, you could actually spend more time with them than to spend time alone in this dark hole like a recluse.”

  “It isn’t a dark hole, Mother.”

  “Seems like one to me. What do you call where a man runs to, to avoid letting go of what is forever gone.”

  Perhaps she had said too much. The little happiness on his face melted away. He paused to stare one last time at the field before he stomped out of the library, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

  It wasn’t the warm greeting she had expected from him, but maybe she deserved it. For too long, she had left him to deal with sorrow in his own way. She had subsequently been too blunt with him, without worrying about how painful it was for him to live without Louise–she had meant everything to him. The Duke of Kent might be a strong symbol of strength to a lot of people in the county, but she ought to see beyond this front. She ought to know where it hurt and fix it permanently.

  Wondering what the best way to do that was, she inched towards the window and noticed Miss Williams caressing a lock of hair on James’ head. Her grandson glanced sideways to hide a smile before muttering a few words and then sauntering away just as his father had done with her. The Dowager Duchess smiled at the correlation and frowned instantly as it hit her.

  She could throw a dinner party!

  She let her mind toy with the brilliant idea for a minute as she noticed Bruce clutching Miss Williams’ hand and pulling her towards the house.

  She had no idea why it took her two years to figure it out, but Miss Williams could just be the perfect solution!

  ***

  Laura stared worriedly at the dowager duchess. As soon as she had stepped into the manor with Bruce and James, one of the servants had approached her, informing her that her presence was required in the first floor sitting room. She had become nervous instantly, expecting another awkward interaction with the duke, but instead of the typical solemn look on the duke’s face, she had come in contact with his mother. The dowager duchess was notorious for getting everyone on their toes with just her presence, so it was even worse to sit across from her while she sipped calmly from her teacup.

  “You have been in the duke’s service for how long, Miss Williams?” she eventually asked, staring bleakly at her.

  Laura cleared her throat. “Two years and a week today, Your Grace.”

  “And what do you think of him–my son, the Duke of Kent?

  “Think of him, Your Grace?”

  “Aye. The servants and half the population of Kent who knew him, I would think, would say he hasn’t been the same man he was. Fortunately, you didn’t know him before—before….”

  “Before Her Grace’s demise?” Laura provided.

  “Yes, yes, before the Duchess of Kent’s death, Miss Williams. You met her before her demise, didn’t you–the duchess?

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “What did you think of her?”

  “I—I think she was beautiful and kind.”

  “Dear Louise could be all that to all of us.” Dowager Duchess Hartley whispered sadly and then paused to stare intently at Laura. “Now, about the duke, Miss Williams. What do you think of him since you have been in his service?”

  Laura paused to hold her breath. She had silently hoped that the discussion wasn’t going to get back to the duke. While the dowager duchess’ questions seemed ordinary, she was afraid she was being led into a trap. “He is…well, he is just uninvolved, Your Grace.” she eventually muttered.

  “Uninvolved?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. Detached, perhaps, is a better word. He sticks to his library more than he steps out of the manor, unless absolutely necessary.”

  “Aye. That he does,” the Dowager Duchess surprisingly agreed with her. “And does he still…uh…seem detached whenever he is with the children?”

  “No, Your Grace. They seem to light up his eyes whenever they are around him. Bruce has developed some joy sleeping in the duke’s bed even when Your Grace isn’t in the manor.”

  The Dowager Duchess kept quiet and sipped from her teacup again. “A dinner party it is then,” she finally whispered under her breath.

  “Pardon, Your Grace?” Laura asked.

  “It is a terrible thing if the only thing that gives a man joy are his children–and he wouldn’t even spend enough time with them. We must find something else that, how did you put it–lights up his eyes?”

  Laura blinked confusedly. “We?”

  “Aye, Miss Williams. I am told that your help with the children is appreciated by everyone–the duke inclusive. It was the only answer Josephine could give when I asked. You might just get him to appreciate you more if you would be the one to make him socialize.”

  “Uhm, I am not sure I understand, Your Grace.”

  The dowager duchess threw her a snort and took her last sip from her teacup. “It is high time the duke got back to his bright self, and you are going to help me make it happen.” she beamed.

  Laura swallowed hard. It wasn’t the dowager duchess’ words that made her heart feel heavy in her chest. It was the mischievous expression on her face. Whatever the old woman was planning, Laura feared that it might make her interaction with the duke more awkward than it already was. She quietly cleared her throat and shifted in her chair.

  “What do you wish me to do, Your Grace?” she asked.

  The mischief on the dowager duchess’ face slowly melted to become a look of absolute gratification.

  “The Hartley Manor will host a dinner party in a fortnight, Miss Williams,” she beamed, “and you will help me make it so.”

  Chapter 4

  Empty Walls

  There had been a few changes in the house since his mother returned, but the duke had hardly noticed until the beginning of the second week. First, there were more paintings in the hall that led to the inner rooms of the ground floor, most of them being retrieved from the abandoned studio in the manor. While Kent had grown to become an avid reader, his father, Duke Alexander Garrison Kent had loved sculptures and paintings and had kept a studio on the second floor to keep his collections.

  Kent hadn’t been in the studio in many years, but he knew each item in it. As soon as he noticed the new paintings on the walls of the house, he knew his mother had been rummaging about in the studio. What he, however, hadn’t expected was that the large portrait of Louise that hung on the wall of his bedroom would be replaced with an ugly painting of an old house.

  He had stepped into the master bedroom the previous evening, noticing that the wall was vacant. Throughout the entire night, it had made him uncomfortable, knowing that something was amiss, but he had been too exhausted to think about it. When he woke up in the morning
, he spent more time rushing into his clothes and getting out of the manor to engage some merchants that traded with the county, and he absolutely forgot about the wall until he got home hours later and noticed a new painting of an old house on it.

  “Josephine!” he had roared instantly.

  It struck him unmistakably. The missing portrait was Louise’s, and someone had gotten rid of it without his consent.

  Josephine was, however, as stunned as he was that the picture had been replaced–or perhaps she was just good at acting. He couldn’t tell, with the way her body shook nervously in front of him as he pointed to the wall. “Where is it?” he yelled.

  She spent a few seconds stepping towards the new painting and frowning confusedly. “I—I watched over the cleaning of your room the previous evening and this morning, Yo—Your Grace.” she stammered. “I could have sworn Her Grace’s picture was right there.”

  He thought about yelling at her again, but her deep brown eyes darted frightfully when she turned to look at him. He grunted under his breath, pointed to the new painting and growled out the words “get rid of it” before stomping out of the room.

  He was on his way to his mother’s chambers now, though. It was the largest room on the first floor–a few hallways from his. If the pitiable housekeeper didn’t know anything about the change on his wall, his mother surely would. As soon as he knocked on the door, Andrea, Josephine’s daughter, stepped out of the room, bowing her head courteously at him. “Your Grace,” she muttered and quickly hurried down the hallway.

  Although he often wondered why the young girl was always trying her best to be out of everyone’s sight, he didn’t throw her a second glance. He stepped into the room with a groan.

  “Where is it?” he grunted without hiding his feelings.

  “Oh, you are here, Andrew.” The Dowager Duchess smiled nonchalantly at his reflection in her mirror. “What do you think?” she asked, turning towards him with her arms outstretched.