The Duke's Second Chance: Clean Regency Romance (Lords for the Sisters of Sussex Book 1)

by Jen Geigle Johnson

“I see. Perhaps it isn’t too terrible.”

  “Perhaps, but the key is, we don’t know, do we? Forgive me, I’m being too bold.”

  “After showing up here in the middle of the night to stop a perfect stranger from proposing, a duke no less, nothing you say or do will be too bold. Feel at ease.”

  “Thank you.” She grinned. “I think.”

  They hurried down the street and around the next corner. The houses were as lovely but closer together. As Amelia hurried alongside Lord Morley, she still wasn’t sure how she got mixed up in all of this, but she had to admit she hadn’t had this much adventure in her life since…well, ever. She found herself equal parts anxious for her duke and fighting back a giggle that here she was all caught up in the innerworkings and dealings of the peerage. And the tiniest part of her admitted to just being happy to see her duke again. That part of her heart knew she had to be very careful from here on out else she errantly disclose the affection of her heart in an impossible situation, even if he was her soul match.

  6

  Gerald leaned back up against a tree in front of Lady Rochester’s house.

  Was it too late to knock on the door and propose?

  Undoubtedly.

  But did he care? Not much.

  He must care enough, because as yet, he had not moved any closer to the door, just simply rested against this tree and stared at it. When he thought of the endless life rolling out in front of him, he was torn about wanting to hand it over to someone else, hence, the duchess. Were he to tie himself to another, that endless rolling forward of his life would also include another. He couldn’t very well ignore her forever. Something in Amelia’s eyes had given him pause, the same feeling that had irritated him to no end. He’d been ready to be reckless, and now with one expression, she’d forced him to consider his actions from a different perspective. She’d brought back Morley’s same concerns. Confound the woman, who was she, to reach inside him so easily and demand more from his behavior? A slip of a shop owner? He shrugged. It didn’t matter. Whoever she was, however she was born, she had a certain power over him he couldn’t deny. And bless her, she’d been there for him on a dark night of his life. Did he owe her opinion some consideration?

  He moaned. Then he heard footsteps and low chatter. Who was out at this hour? And did he want anyone to see him, standing in from of Lady Rochester’s home in the middle of the night? No, he did not. He scooted around to the other side of the tree so he would be invisible from the street. And he listened. The voices had quieted, but the footsteps drew nearer. Then a voice, he would never be more surprised to hear until he heard the next. “Do you think he’ll go through with it?” His best friend in the world.

  “I think he believed he would. Could he already be inside?” Amelia from the tea shop. The despair in her voice was curious to him.

  He stepped out from behind the tree, and they both jumped. Amelia yelped a little bit and then held a hand over her mouth.

  A light turned on in the upstairs window.

  The three of them moved down the street to a darker corner several houses away. Then Gerald turned to them, looked from one to the other. Words wouldn’t form. Thoughts wouldn’t form. “How?”

  “I couldn’t let you do it.” From Amelia came out at the same time that, “She showed up at the door.” Exited the mouth of his friend.

  “You came to my home?” He was unaccountably pleased that she would do such a thing.

  “I know it was very, ridiculously, out of place for me to do so. I don’t know what came over me, to be honest. But I was suddenly unable to do anything but come. You mustn’t do as you’d planned.”

  “Mustn’t I?” He’d never liked to be told what to do. In fact, shouldn’t, mustn’t, and can’t were three of his least favorite words. But somehow coming from this remarkably bold woman, he was rather charmed instead of affronted. “And why mustn’t I?”

  “I’m glad you asked; for now you’ve given me the opportunity to say what I should have said when you first shared your hair-brained Idea.” She gasped. “Beg pardon.”

  The duke and Lord Morley shared a look and Gerald gestured that she continue.

  “I’ll just say what I feel compelled to say and then leave you be. I’m not a stranger to grief. I’ve not lost my other half, the person who made the sun shine in my day like you said, but, when my mother passed, I thought I’d never be happy again. So nothing I did had any consequence, for life would always feel grey and void of any love or happiness, or so I thought. I really honestly didn’t think I would ever be able to feel again.” She shrugged. “And when you feel like that, you think none of your decisions really matter.”

  The duke nodded, his jaw working with an effort to control his emotion. How could she know what he felt so readily? His heart battled a whole myriad of emotions. Did his heartbreak not merit individual uniqueness? Was it the same as everyone else’s? And then amazement filled him that another human could understand and put to words his grief. He admitted the tiniest flicker of hope as he leaned forward and asked, “And did the sun shine again?”

  She rested a hand on his arm. “It did. And I’m relieved I didn’t make any big decisions based on the fact that I assumed I’d never be happy again.”

  He rested his hand atop hers and stared into her eyes, the woman who’d been there for him now on three important moments in his life. His angel. “I don’t know why this is your lot, counselling my sorry emotionally injured self, but I’m grateful to you for trying to help me.”

  She watched him for several minutes more. Then hesitantly pulled her hand away. “Will that be all?” She looked from one to the other.

  “Yes, thank you.” Gerald nodded, unsure what more to do in such a situation.

  “Are you, are you dismissing me?” The pain that flashed through her expression was quickly hidden, then she curtseyed, “Your grace, my lord.” She would have left them but Lord Morley stopped her. “Miss Amelia, is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you.”

  The duke nodded. “Yes, thank you. Perhaps, Morley, you could walk her home?” He turned to Lord Morley but he and Amelia both said, “No.” overly loud.

  He eyed them. “You’re in cahoots, are you?”

  Morley grinned. “Well, I just think perhaps she’s right and you should at least sleep on such a large decision. If you feel urgently pressed to propose to a woman once you wake up, well, then, we’ll talk about it some more. Over breakfast.”

  “Right.” Amelia nodded. “Very sensible. I’m glad you have such a friend to advise you.”

  Morley stepped to her side. “And I’m glad you found Amelia here at just the opportune moment.”

  Gerald looked from one to the other, his irritation growing. “And now you’re thick as thieves.” His arms crossed. Amelia interacting with his world somehow ruined the magic of finding her in the tea shop in the dark of night. Now she was more a regular sort of person, a bold sort of person, but not quite the emerging fairy he had almost supposed. But instead of saying something he would regret, he admitted to agreeing with their advice. “Sometimes a man just needs to wait out the night, figure things out for himself.”

  “I’m sorry to intrude.” Amelia’s downturned face softened his irritation somewhat. His emotions were all over the place and he couldn’t handle one more thing to worry about. Certainly didn’t want to be concerned he’d hurt the feelings of a shopkeeper. “I do apologize.”

  “Oh, please no. You have too much to be concerned over to worry about me.” Something rustled in her pocket. “Though I did want to give you this.” She held out a folded piece of paper.

  He took it, opening it to a remarkable likeness of himself.

  “My word, that is brilliant.” Lord Morley’s overexuberant praise bothered him further.

  “It’s your eyes that got to me. I knew I had to come.”

  There was a desperate glint there he didn’t recognize. “Is that what I look like to you?”

&n
bsp; “No, just earlier, in my shop.”

  “And you drew me after I left?”

  She nodded. “It’s how I used to think through a problem. Sometimes drawing it, helps me see things I normally wouldn’t. Like your eyes. I knew if I could see that look again, I’d be able to guess whether you’d try to go through with your plan.”

  “And you felt it important enough to try to come stop me?”

  “I did.” She raised her chin. Her work was done. He’d seen his own desperate situation, had his best friend at his side, and she was starting to feel the cold of night sink deeper inside. “I best be going now.”

  Gerald looked about them. “You can’t walk back alone.”

  She placed hands on her hips. “Well, I can’t leave you here alone either.”

  Suddenly Gerald didn’t want to stand alone against a tree in the middle of the night. “Then we’ll all go together.”

  He pretended not to notice the looks of victory that passed between the two of them. He wasn’t yet convinced that his plan was in error, but he knew he wouldn’t be disturbing anyone’s household in the middle of the night to carry out a reckless idea. Perhaps Amelia was correct, perhaps he just needed some time to heal before jumping to these hasty decisions.

  As they approached the front door of her shop, he said, “I’m so touched you would spend your evening trying to help me. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Good night, Your Grace, my lord.” Her curtsey was as lovely and well executed as any in the ton and for a moment, he wondered at her upbringing. But he had other things to concern himself with that quickly crowded out the background of his tea shop friend.

  Lord Morley shook his head. “She’s a remarkable person. When I opened the door, she looked as terrified as she was courageous.”

  “I can’t imagine how she worked up the courage.” He patted his friend on the back. “But I’m relieved she did. I was in a lonely and desperate place standing by that tree.”

  “Why didn’t you leave? Really Gerald.”

  “I felt trapped.” He shrugged. He couldn’t explain it any better than he could understand it. “But now I’ve got a feather of hope again. The tiniest reason to use sense. Hopefully it sticks until morning.”

  “If not, I’ll be here to remind you.”

  “And perhaps a cup of tea might be in order.”

  Lord Morley’s eye brow rose. “Have as many cups of tea as you’d like, though I don’t know how long we can prey on that woman’s patience, especially when she feels responsible to make certain her advice is carried out.”

  Gerald laughed. “Feels right proprietary about it, doesn’t she?”

  “She certainly does, but thank the heavens for it.”

  When they arrived home, he sent Lord Morley to bed while he moved to sit behind his desk. He had piles of correspondence and at least for the moment he was feeling capable of something productive. So he sat and began sifting through his letters.

  A rather larger one from his solicitor sat at the top so Gerald opened that one first. Skimming the page, he recognized a problem that would not be solved tomorrow. “What in the blazes?” One part of his estates he’d inherited recently from a cousin in Wales, included an old castle and a cottage full of women. Apparently the women, a family of sisters had lost both their parents and were left in a will to his cousin in Wales to care for. They came with the castle, as part of their own inheritance, but the place was too old to live in, and they insisted on the gamekeeper’s cottage that sat on the crossroads to town. He’d asked his solicitor how they could be rid of the whole situation. And as he skimmed the paper, he was more and more unhappy with the reply. The ladies were well respected, visited by peerage on their way to and from Brighton. And the solicitor warned in the strongest terms to do well by them and their powerful friends.

  “Of all the…”

  And then as he read on, the solicitor had included a list of problems with the cottage that the women were facing. As he read, he agreed, the place needed some upkeep. “Good heavens. I’ve inherited an expensive problem haven’t I?” He began to tire. But focusing on something so odd, something so deliciously foreign felt good for a change, and he left the letter on the top of the pile to address in the morning after he’d had some rest.

  He went to bed, thinking of them and their dilemma, wishing he’d never inherited them, but grateful he had something else to puzzle over rather than his own unhappiness.

  7

  At breakfast, Gerard wished he’d never said a word about the shopkeeper to his mother or sister. At first they over reacted to such a large degree that he’d been alone with her in a shop at night.

  “Mother, no one is going to think I compromised her, nor are they going to expect me to marry her, given her station.”

  His mother sniffed in disapproval. “You are likely correct, but it was very bad ton. And I raised you differently.”

  “Mother, it was the evening of a very dark day for me…”

  She patted his hand, her eyes welling with tears. “I know I know. And to think of you in this wretched state throughout your life, lonely. Could you not just be quick about your marriage? I long to see you happy once again.”

  Gerald couldn’t answer for he and his mother had very different expectations of a marriage with Francis Rochester.

  “I’m relieved you aren’t thinking of pulling a Marguerite.”

  “A who?”

  Lord Morley and he looked equally puzzled.

  “A Marguerite.” His mother waved her hand around. “It’s just something we say, those in my generation of debutantes.”

  Even though Gerald tried to look as uninterested as possible, she continued.

  “We had quite the todo, I’ll tell you.” She fanned her face. “In my day, a bakery sat in the same place as that tea shop. And in it, the handsomest baker any of us had ever seen. We would walk by just to look at him. And we bought far too many biscuits and any other such thing from him, just so we could talk to him.”

  Gerald wished to be anywhere but here, listening to this talk.

  “But Marguerite fell in love with him while the rest of us just entertained harmless flirtation. And she was convinced to run off to the anvil. She, the daughter of a Baron, and he, the shopkeeper’s son.” His mother clucked. “We all lost contact with her after that and you can bet we stopped frequenting the bake shop.” She tapped her fan on her knee. “It soon closed. And now we have the delightful tea which of course you know.”

  “Thank you mother for that very enlightening tale, but you can be assured I won’t be pulling a Marguerite.”

  “I know, darling. But you can understand why that very shop brought back the memories.”

  “I suppose.”

  Lord Morley smiled. “She is rather charming though, this shopkeeper.”

  “She has a name.” Gerald was unaccountably irritated that Lord Morley found Amelia charming.

  “Oh? And what is it?”

  “She is Miss Amelia Dickson.”

  “Dickson?” His mother’s face pinched in a thoughtful way. “Dickson. Do we know that name?”

  “I can’t think how we would before I stumbled across her. At any rate, we know her now, and I expect us to support that shop.”

  “Naturally, we already do. They’ve the best tea around and located quite perfectly close to the park.”

  Gerald nodded, but felt unsatisfied. “She and Lord Morley do not think I should be marrying as quickly as you seem to wish it.”

  Lord Morley didn’t cower when the duchess gifted him with her signature look of disapproval. “Well, I can’t think they have your best interests at heart then, do they?” She turned to give her full disapproving glare to Lord Morley. “Have you thought, my lord, how your friend will fare alone? Alone. When you marry or go off on tour or other such thing, our Gerry here will be languishing alone. Have you no thought for that?”

  “I do have a thought for that. Many a thought. And I am of the opinion, You
r Grace, that alone would be better than some people’s company.”

  Her mouth twitched; Gerald knew his mother wanted to smile, laugh, but instead she looked away.

  The butler joined them. “A Lady Rochester to see you.”

  They stood. “What in the ---” Gerald pressed his lips together as Lady Rochester stepped into the room, quite alone, and dipped into a low curtsey.

  “Pardon my unexpected arrival.”

  “You are always welcome. There will be no need for apologies particularly since it was I who invited you to call.” His mother stepped forward and linked their arms as she led her to a chair near Gerald.

  “Lady Rochester.” He dipped his head. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “And you as well. I’ll tell you the truth of it. I couldn’t sleep. Not a wink, thinking of our mutual grief compounded my own.”

  Gerald wasn’t certain what to think of her. He was profoundly bothered that she had arrived unexpectedly. And right at the moment when he wished to discuss her with those closest to him.

  Once they’d gotten over the niceties, Lady Rochester sat forward with a conspiratorial smile. “I’ve heard that your tenants receive regular visits from some lofty members of the peerage.”

  “My tenants?” Gerald started to review the tenants on his estate.

  “Yes, that lovely cottage on the way to Brighton.”

  His mother opened her mouth, ready to deny any such tenant.

  “Ah, you speak of our cousin’s bequeathal.”

  “The very one.”

  “I’m just recently becoming aware of them.” He wondered how she had already received news.

  “A most interesting bunch, if I hear correctly. And visited by the royal dukes, no less, and the royal ladies in waiting, by royal decree.”

  Gerald did not know any of these details. Suddenly his new obligation to them and their dratted castle became more of an intrigue.

  “I imagine they’re a drain on the finances.”

  Gerald opened his mouth in surprise. What woman talked of the finances?