Regency Romances for the Ages

by Grace Fletcher

  Wellington jumped. He hadn’t heard his brother call him that since they were children. He stood and squared up to Fitzroy. “What did you just call me?”

  “Camilla says it works when you’re not paying attention. And she’s right.” Fitzroy’s eyes were almost glowing in his irritation. “You are not the man I know as my brother. I don’t recognize you anymore. You’re a grown man and a duke! You don’t bow down to a dowager duchess. She does not control you. If you don’t want to marry you are entitled to say no. No one’s going to bat an eyelid that you’re unmarried.” He shook his head. “Use your head and think! What’s more important to you? Your happiness or placating your mother? Because I know those don’t go together.”

  Wellington felt like he had been slapped in the face. Fitzroy was right. He was not the same man as before, the one who did whatever he wanted within reason. His mother was taking control of everything and making him a puppet. Wellington was no one’s puppet.

  He knew what he wanted in life and that involved Camilla Lacey. The woman he loved. He wanted her back. And Wellington wasn’t going to sit there and make everyone believe he was happy with his arrangement.

  “Come with me to Camilla’s? I might need help in case she tries to throw me out.”

  “Of course.”

  Fitzroy took Wellington’s glass and put them both on the mantelpiece. Then they headed towards the door. Fitzroy was opening it when they heard their mother’s voice squawking after them.

  “Wellington? Where are you going?” She stood and hurried over to them. “Where are you going?”

  Wellington knew this was going to be uncomfortable, but he didn’t care. His mother was one step away from locking him into a marriage he didn’t want. He spun around on her, aware that Marianne and her mother were watching them in confusion. “I’ve had enough, Mother. This stops right now.”

  “What does?”

  “You know perfectly well. Lady Lewis and her daughter are going home right now.” He turned to Marianne, who was staring at him in confusion. “The wedding is not happening.”

  The room suddenly got a lot colder. Lady Lewis gasped and clutched at her necklace. Marianne’s smile faded, and her face went red. The dowager duchess looked like she had been slapped.

  “What?” she squeaked.

  “I should’ve put a stop to this a long time ago.” Wellington turned back to his mother. “If I don’t want to marry, then I won’t. My butler will show all of you out.”

  Then he left, Fitzroy following behind him.

  They were almost at the door when Wellington heard the rushing of feet, and Lady Muriel caught up with them.

  “Come back here, Wellington!” she shrieked, grabbing at his arm.

  But Wellington simply shrugged her off. “I’m not a child, Mother. I don’t answer to you.”

  “You are my son, and you will answer to me!” Lady Muriel’s face was now mottled red. She was breathing heavily. “What’s gotten into you? You were never this mean.”

  Wellington snorted. “It’s the only way it will get into your head. You keep telling me about duty and how I should do my duty by giving myself an heir. I don’t want to marry because you want me to. I want to marry because I love the woman.” He jerked his head at the library door where he could see Marianne and her mother staring at him in mute shock. “And there is nothing you can do to make me love Marianne Lewis.”

  Lady Muriel’s mouth opened and closed, stumbling over her words. Then her eyes narrowed, and she scowled. “It’s that girl, isn’t it?”

  “You might have to be more specific, Mother.”

  “You know perfectly well who I’m talking about.” She shuddered and then lowered her voice to a whisper to spit the name, “Camilla Lacey. She’s turned you against us. I knew she would be bad for you.”

  Wellington gritted his teeth. He would not have anything bad said about the woman he loved. “The only bad thing that happened to me with regard to her was when she told me we weren’t to see each other anymore. I wish I had been more forceful in getting her to stay.” He caught the butler’s eye and nodded. “I want these three women out of my house by the time I get back. If they refuse to go, forcibly remove them.”

  Then he left, Fitzroy following close behind him. They could still hear the dowager duchess wailing behind them as they got into Wellington’s carriage.

  But Wellington was past the point of caring.

  Chapter 9

  Going After Love

  W ellington banged on the door again. It still didn’t open.

  Fitzroy shivered and stamped his feet. “Maybe she’s asleep.”

  “At this time of night?”

  “It has gone nine. And it’s cold.” Fitzroy rubbed his hands together. “There’s a definite chill setting in.”

  Wellington snorted. “Camilla told me she never goes to bed at this time. It’s always much later.”

  Fitzroy raised his eyebrows at that. “That’s a strange thing to talk about.”

  “We talked about anything and everything.” Wellington banged on the door again. “That was just us. We were comfortable enough with each other to talk about things others wouldn’t touch.”

  That had always been refreshing. Wellington liked talking about mundane things when it wasn’t with simpering young ladies. Camilla had never been like that, and she had a levelheaded attitude to a lot of topics. Wellington enjoyed those times.

  He missed them. A lot.

  Fitzroy flinched as Wellington let out a snarl and kicked the door. “Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  “Tough.” Wellington growled and banged on the door again. He was going to talk to Camilla right now. There was no question about it. She had to know now that he wasn’t going anywhere and she couldn’t push him away.

  Finally, they heard the door unlocking. It opened a few inches and Maisie, wearing a nightgown and carrying a candle, her hair under a bonnet, peeked out. The door opened wider when she realized who it was.

  Maisie stared at Wellington before remembering her manners. “Your Grace.” She dropped into a curtsy. “Lord Fitzroy. Forgive us, but we had retired for the night.”

  Wellington wasn’t about to shout at Maisie. She was a good person, a good servant for Camilla. He fought back his impatience. “My apologies for waking you, Maisie, but I need to talk to Miss Lacey. Would you wake her up for me?”

  Maisie’s eyes widened. “I… I’m afraid I can’t.”

  “I know she might not want to talk to me, but it’s imperative that I speak to her.” Wellington reached out and squeezed Maisie’s hand. “Please.”

  “I meant I can’t wake Miss Lacey up because she isn’t here.”

  Camilla wasn’t there? Wellington exchanged a look with Fitzroy. Camilla didn’t leave her house very often and she wouldn’t be out at this time of night. “Where is she?”

  “I don’t really know. All I do know is she left earlier today with Mr Wright.”

  “The artist who did the painting of her?” Fitzroy asked.

  “The very same.” Maisie nodded. “They’re friends but Mr Wright has wanted more for a while. He’s been urging Miss Lacey to elope for some time now. Today, she finally said yes.”

  She had said yes to someone else.

  Wellington felt like someone had taken his heart out of his chest and stomped all over it. Camilla couldn’t have moved on that quickly from him. Wellington knew her feelings were strong. That wasn’t easy to move on from.

  What was she thinking running off with the artist? Camilla was a free spirit and was known for doing things that Society would seriously frown upon, but this? Wellington didn’t believe it.

  “How long ago did they leave?”

  “Just after dinner. About six-thirty.”

  So they weren’t too far ahead. Wellington looked back at his carriage, his driver waiting expectantly. He made up his mind. Camilla might be willing to move on, but he wasn’t, and he needed to know what the woman he loved wanted be
fore he could let her go. Even if it meant leaving empty-handed.

  He turned back to Maisie.

  “Could you do something for me, Maisie?”

  “If I can, Your Grace.”

  “May I use your mistress’s writing desk?”

  Looking confused, Maisie let them in.

  Fitzroy followed Wellington through to the library where Camilla’s writing desk sat in the corner by the window overlooking the garden. “What are you doing?”

  “I just need to write a note.” Wellington found a sheaf of paper and dipped the pen in the ink. “Would you mind escorting Maisie to my home once I’ve written what I want her to take back?”

  “Of course I will but… what are you doing?”

  “What does it look like?” Wellington blotted the note and then folded it, scribbling his butler’s name on the front. “I’m going after her.” Looking up, Wellington was expecting to see his brother looking shocked at his actions. What he wasn’t expecting was for Fitzroy looking at him as if he needed to be committed to the madhouse.

  “You’re what?”

  “I’m going after her. Camilla’s not going to marry someone else without knowing how I feel about it.”

  “Maybe they eloped for that very reason! If she knew you would do this just to mess her around, Camilla decided eloping was the best thing to do.”

  Wellington growled and swung around on his brother. “Did you hear what Maisie said? Wright had to ask her to elope for several days. It was only today she said yes. That tells me that she’s reluctant to marry him.”

  “You think you have a chance to win her back? Even though she was the one who ended it between you?”

  “Yes.”

  Fitzroy looked at Maisie, who was hovering by the door with a perplexed expression. Then Fitzroy looked back at Wellington, still looking like he was about to have a fit. “But… you don’t even know where they’re going!”

  “Fitz, where do people go to elope? Gretna Green. It’s a long journey, but if I go now, I won’t be too far behind.”

  “With no luggage.”

  “Do you think I care about that?” Wellington shouted. “Camilla Lacey belongs with me, and I’m going to make sure she knows that.”

  “Even if she’s reluctant to marry someone else, doesn’t that tell you something?”

  Wellington didn’t want to talk about it anymore. The more they talked, the further away Camilla would get. “I’m going to give her a choice. Marry Wright or marry me. I’ll walk away if she chooses him.”

  “Will you?” Fitzroy looked sceptical about that.

  Wellington sighed. “Reluctantly. I’ll know when I’m beat.” He went to the door and slipped the note into Maisie’s hand. “Take this to my butler, Maisie. And this is for your troubles.”

  He took out two gold sovereigns and laid them on top of the note. Then with the maid staring at him in dazed shock, Wellington hurried towards the door.

  He could only hope that when he got there, Camilla hadn’t yet become Camilla Wright.

  Chapter 10

  Catching Up to Love

  “C amilla.”

  Camilla started and spun around. Francis was standing behind her, giving her a strange look. Camilla realized he had been speaking to her and tried to gather her thoughts. “Forgive me, Francis. I was thinking about something else.”

  “Are you well, my darling? You look like you’re about to faint.”

  Camilla felt like she was about to faint. What was she thinking doing this? Running off to Gretna Green to marry Francis? This had to be the most outrageous thing she had ever done.

  In the four long days it had taken to travel up to the border of Scotland, she had been doing a lot of thinking. Doing it impulsively, thinking she could give herself a clean slate after breaking it off with the Duke of Wellington… It had sounded like a good idea at the time. Francis had been there for her, he claimed to love her, and he would make a good husband. But as they travelled up the country, Camilla was left with her thoughts a lot, and she realized that she didn’t want to do this at all. Even if she married Francis, it would be unfair to him if her heart was with someone else.

  She wasn’t able to get it into Francis’s head, though. He kept brushing her concerns aside and saying it would be better once they were settled down. But Camilla wasn’t so sure.

  By the time they got to Gretna Green, Camilla had made up her mind. She wouldn’t be marrying Francis. She couldn’t, it wasn’t fair to either of them. If it meant being a spinster for the rest of her life, Camilla would take it. Maybe she would stay in Gretna Green. Going back to London, knowing that the duke was about to marry the awful Marianne Lewis, didn’t sound appealing at all.

  A new life was what she needed. But sadly, it didn’t include Francis as her husband.

  It didn’t seem too long before the blacksmith they had asked to do the ceremony was ready. Francis and Camilla stepped into his forge and the blacksmith, a big, ruddy man with a kindly smile, had them stand by the anvil before he started the ceremony. It felt too quick for Camilla’s liking. But he was a blacksmith, not a priest.

  She was asked if she took Francis to be her husband, and Camilla was bracing herself to say no when the door flung open and a familiar voice snapped her head around.

  “Wait a moment.”

  Camilla stared as Wellington stepped through the door, his eyes on her. She almost ran to him and flung her arms around him. “Your Grace! What are you doing here?”

  Francis scowled and pushed Camilla behind him, facing Wellington down. “Do you mind? My betrothed and I are trying to get married.”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen.” Wellington said brusquely. He looked at the blacksmith who looked perplexed. “Can you give us a few minutes, please?”

  The blacksmith nodded and headed away. Then Wellington looked at Camilla. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. His jaw was thickening with a beard, and his clothes appeared to have been slept in. Camilla had never seen him in such a state. But she had never been so relieved to see him.

  What was he doing here?

  “Camilla,” Wellington rasped, looking like a broken man, “Don’t do this.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Marry someone else. I couldn’t bear it if I lost you now.”

  Francis snarled but Camilla laid a hand on his arm. She never took her eyes off Wellington. Her heart was in her mouth. “I won’t be anyone’s mistress,” she said. “You’re about to marry Marianne Lewis. You can’t be married to her and have me as well.”

  “I’m not going to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I broke it off with Marianne the same day you left for here. I wasn’t far behind you.” Wellington shook his head and rubbed his hand over his eyes. “I couldn’t marry a woman I despise, when the woman I loved had taken my heart. Then I realized my duty was pointless if I didn’t have you with me, by my side.”

  Camilla stared. Was he offering her marriage? She didn’t think he would ever do that. And it wasn’t possible, surely? Wellington’s status may have been something in Society but hers wasn’t. Beside her, she could feel Francis simmering with rage. “But… I’m not suitable,” she protested. “And you need a suitable wife to be your duchess.”

  Wellington snorted. “I need a suitable wife for me, not my title. And that’s you. I’m willing to put up with being shunned from Society for you. I am happy to have my mother never speak to me again—it would be a blessing. All of this I would do if you’ll marry me.”

  “Well, she can’t,” Francis snapped. “We’re engaged, and we were about to be married. You can’t change that.” He turned away, taking Camilla’s arm. “You can come back now, blacksmith!”

  The blacksmith moved back into the room, looking at each of the faces before him. Then his eyes stayed on the duke who had grabbed Camilla’s hand.

  “Camilla, please.” She had never heard that tone in his voice before. “I love you. I
f you don’t want me around, tell me now and I’ll walk away. But don’t marry him if you love me.”

  He really meant it. Camilla had longed for Wellington to say that he loved her. But he never had. She turned to him. He looked like he was about to break. He didn’t look like the confident man she had fallen in love with.

  But she still loved him. And she knew she couldn’t walk away. Camilla turned to Francis and gently pulled away from him.

  “Forgive me, Francis. But I can’t marry you.”

  “What?” Francis’s face turned hard in his anger. “You’re not falling for his lies, are you?”

  “He’s not lying to me. I know him well enough for that.” Camilla moved away from Francis and stood beside Wellington. His arm went around her shoulder, and she could feel him trembling. “I’ve been in love with Wellington for a long time. What I feel for you is affection, and I thought it could turn into love given time. But now I realize I was fooling myself, and it wouldn’t have been fair to anyone. If Wellington hadn’t arrived when he did, I would have said I wasn’t going to marry you.”

  Wellington’s arm tightened around her, and she felt the relief flood his body. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. It felt like a dream. But he was solid. The Duke of Wellington was really here.

  Francis, on the other hand, had an expression that said he realized he was losing the upper hand fast. His face went from white to red to purple. “You… you… you lead me on?” he spluttered.

  “I didn’t lead you on. I told you I didn’t want to marry you, but you wore me down.” Camilla swallowed. She didn’t like hurting her friend but there was no way to get around it. “I thought you were my only option.”

  Francis was seething. He let out an almighty yell and picked up a hammer, flinging it across the room. It hit the wall before clanging onto a table and knocking most of the tools onto the floor. “I didn’t do all this for nothing!” he shouted, swinging around on Camilla. “I made sure the two of you would never be together. I didn’t do that for you to go running back to him.”