Regency Romances for the Ages

by Grace Fletcher

  Beatrice had an awful night. She had spent some time crying, burrowing herself into the sheets and trying not to wail loudly. The servants were looking after her and giving her sympathy, but Beatrice was embarrassed. This shouldn’t be happening.

  She had agreed to become a convenient wife for Cornwall, who had made a promise to her brother. They could have got on with the rest of their lives being friends.

  Neither of them was supposed to fall in love. And Beatrice had fallen deeply.

  This was not what they agreed on. And Beatrice couldn’t stay any longer, not when she had to see Josephine Farley acting as if the Duke of Cornwall was her property. Beatrice couldn’t believe the gall of the woman. It was a pity women weren’t allowed pistols at dawn—she would have duelled in a second.

  There was only one thing for it. Beatrice would have to leave. She wouldn’t be able to stay any longer if the Farleys were going to be at Stanford Park for some weeks. One of them would have to leave, and Beatrice wasn’t about to turf out Lord Farley. For all his faults, he was a very nice man. He didn’t deserve to be punished for his wife’s behaviour.

  Thankfully, Edgars had informed her that Cornwall wanted to see her. Beatrice decided that would be a perfect time to tell her husband that she was leaving. She wasn’t looking for permission. She was the duchess and could leave if she wanted. It was just manners to let him know beforehand.

  While Mrs Hodgkinson started packing her trunk, Beatrice went downstairs to Cornwall’s study, entering when permitted. Cornwall was at his desk, scribbling out a letter. He looked up as she approached him.

  “There you are. I wanted to…” His voice trailed off when he caught sight of her face. “What is it? Are you still feeling unwell?”

  Beatrice knew she had to look awful. She couldn’t face putting any makeup on for it to be smudged. Her face was white as a sheet, and Cornwall could see that.

  She took a deep breath, focusing on a point somewhere above her husband’s head.

  “Your Grace… I don’t think this is working out.”

  “What?” Cornwall sat up. “What do you mean?”

  “Being married for convenience and being in the same house. It’s not working.” Beatrice didn’t look at her husband and didn’t need to for her to see Cornwall’s surprise. She tensed as her husband stood and came around the desk.

  “Why is it not working?”

  Beatrice wasn’t about to answer that. If she told him that she loved him, he would push her away. Beatrice wasn’t about to be rejected or patronised. Her hands twisted tightly in front of her. “I think I need to leave and live separately from you.”

  “Why?”

  Beatrice ignored this, still staring ahead. Then when Cornwall stood in front of her, she focused on the pin in his cravat. “I want to go back to Pencroft. I can live there while you live here, attending functions as and when you need me.” She bit her lip and fought back the tears. “But I can’t live here with you.”

  “I…” Cornwall stuttered. Beatrice could tell she had caught him off guard. Cornwall turned away, and Beatrice glanced at his retreating back. Cornwall ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to say. I thought things were going all right with us.”

  “There is a lot going on that I’ve ignored for a while. It’s just getting harder to deal with, and I think it would be best if I go to Pencroft.”

  She thought her husband was going to argue with her but Cornwall nodded, turning back to her. “Of course. But I have to tell the guests something.”

  Beatrice pressed her lips together. “I’m sure Lady Farley wouldn’t notice that I’ve gone, seeing as she’s paying too much attention to you to notice anyone, not even her husband.” That was too much but Beatrice felt she had to get the barb in there.

  Cornwall stared at her. “Is that what it’s all about? Lady Farley?”

  “I don’t want to argue on this, Cornwall.” Beatrice wasn’t going to be cornered on this. She turned and walked towards the door. “Mrs Hodgkinson is helping me pack and I’ll head up to Pencroft later today.”

  “I didn’t say you could go!”

  Beatrice turned when she reached the door. Cornwall was breathing heavily, looking panicked. Was he scared of her leaving? Beatrice didn’t believe that. “Don’t try to stop me, Your Grace,” she said stiffly. Then she bowed her head. “Good day, Your Grace.”

  She was surprised that she didn’t trip over her own feet as she left.

  Chapter 10

  Realization Dawning

  C ornwall stood at the window of the drawing room and watched as Lord and Lady Farley got into their carriage. Lady Farley paused as she started to get in and looked up at him. Cornwall gave her a stony stare. The woman scowled and climbed into the carriage, slamming the door behind her.

  It felt like a relief to get rid of her. But the house felt empty. Cornwall could very keenly feel Beatrice’s absence. For the past week since she had left for Pencroft, Cornwall was very much aware that Beatrice wasn’t around. He had gotten used to her presence and liked her company even if she drove him mad at times.

  He hadn’t realized how much he actually depended on her. How much he valued her.

  Thankfully, Farley had been understanding when Cornwall couldn’t take it any longer and explained that he was feeling unwell so he wasn’t up for entertaining. He had been drawing away from Lady Farley as well, who had noticed. And Cornwall had practically pushed her away when she attempted to get his attention even more.

  It felt good to reject the woman he had once loved and who thought she could still wrap him around her little finger. It felt good to see her go.

  But it didn’t feel good being in Stanford Park alone.

  “Are Lord and Lady Farley gone?” Rollins was in the doorway. Cornwall hadn’t spoken to his valet much in the last few weeks since the night of the ball. The man had kept his distance and been very professional.

  Cornwall sighed and turned away from the window, taking a hefty swig of his drink. “Yes, they’ve left.”

  “Would you like anything?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Rollins grunted and bowed. “I’ll be in my room if you need me for anything.”

  Cornwall couldn’t take it any longer. Practically all of his household had turned against him and nobody would speak to him after Mrs Hodgkinson’s outburst, not even Edgars. “Rollins.”

  Rollins paused at the door, his back stiffening.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing, Your Grace.”

  “Come on, Jasper. How long have we known each other? You’re angry with me and you’re not saying. That’s not unlike you.” Cornwall had a feeling he was going to get another tirade of anger directed at him, but this couldn’t go on. “What have I done wrong?”

  Rollins turned. He looked incredulous. “What have you done?” he repeated and snorted. “What haven’t you done?”

  “Pardon?”

  Rollins shut the door and stepped further into the room. He kept his voice level, but his tone was sharp. “You invited Lord and Lady Farley here so you could be attentive to your former fiancée, right in front of her husband. You are lucky Lord Farley didn’t notice or he would have challenged you to a sword fight.”

  “I…”

  “And on top of that, you did it in front of your wife. Convenience marriage or not, it was disrespectful towards her. I told you that Lady Farley was going to ruin you years ago when you first started courting her, and I was right. You’ve now lost the woman who loves you.”

  What? Cornwall was confused. “What are you talking about?”

  Rollins rolled his eyes. “Come off it, Your Grace. Surely you’ve noticed that Lady Beatrice is in love with you. I noticed. As have all the servants. You’re the only one who hasn’t realized that your wife has fallen for you.”

  That hit Cornwall in the face. He had not expected that at all. Now he understood why his household had been so chilly towards him. He sagged onto the win
dow seat. “I had no idea,” he said faintly.

  “You had no idea because you didn’t care,” Rollins accused. “All you cared about was seeing Lady Farley. And she lapped it up. That woman knew you were still pining after her, and she loved the attention. What do you think that is going to do to your reputation if it gets out? Or to Lady Beatrice’s? Do you think that’s fair for her?”

  He was right. Cornwall had been in the wrong all along. And now he was beginning to realize that the great warmth in his chest had gone, long before Lady Farley left his presence moments ago.

  It had gone right about the time Beatrice had left for Pencroft.

  He looked up at Rollins, who looked like he was coming down from the explosive fit he had just let loose. “I’ve never seen you get this defensive over a woman.”

  “Because I know when you’ve got a good thing going, and you’re throwing it all away,” Rollins said coldly. “And for what? Something that isn’t there anymore. Focus on what you’ve got not what you haven’t, or you’re going to lose everything altogether.”

  Rollins had a point. Cornwall had let Beatrice go to Pencroft without a fight. He should have fought to keep her with him, at his side. That was where she belonged.

  It dawned on him that he had made a mistake. And Cornwall knew he needed to make things right.

  “I need a carriage for Pencroft, Jasper.” Cornwall stood, finishing off his drink. “Can you put a few things together for me?”

  Rollins grinned. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  ***

  “Your Grace?”

  Beatrice started when someone touched her shoulder. Sanders was standing beside her, her expression sympathetic as she looked down at her mistress.

  Beatrice wiped at her eyes and sat up, catching her book before it fell to the floor. She had been staring into the fire, unable to concentrate on anything as the storm outside raged against the house.

  “Forgive me, Sanders. I didn’t see you.”

  “Would you like some tea?”

  Beatrice wasn’t thirsty. Or hungry. She had had no appetite for the past week, and the servants were beginning to worry, even though they never voiced their concerns.

  “I don’t think so.” She smiled at Sanders. “But thank you.”

  “Would you like me to get you anything else?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Sanders looked like she wanted to stay, but she curtsied and left. Beatrice was glad her maid had been allowed to stay on. When Cornwall acquired Pencroft, he kept the servants on to keep the house in top condition. It was inviting to come back and see old faces. They gave her the space she needed, especially Sanders, who had taken a protective stance over her mistress.

  But Beatrice couldn’t feel any relief about being back in her old home. It felt empty and cold. Something was missing. For a while, Beatrice thought it was Victor and had cried over him. But she knew the truth.

  She was missing her husband.

  Beatrice didn’t want to admit it, but Cornwall was still firmly in her heart, and Beatrice couldn’t get rid of him. She knew hiding away was the coward’s way of dealing with her emotions, but Beatrice wasn’t about to be discarded. Cornwall would laugh and turn her away, and their interactions at functions would be awkward. Beatrice didn’t want that.

  She wanted a marriage of love with the prospect of children in the future. And this was not it. But she could do nothing. Divorce was not possible. Even if it were, Beatrice would be left with nothing.

  She was set to live the rest of her life alone and with unrequited love while her husband pined after a married woman.

  “Your Grace.”

  Beatrice turned. Sanders was back in the doorway. She glanced towards the window which showed how black the sky was outside. “What is it, Sanders?”

  “The Duke of Cornwall is here.”

  Beatrice shot to her feet. “What? He’s here?”

  “His carriage has just pulled up outside.” Sanders didn’t look happy but kept her composure. “Shall I tell him where you are?”

  Beatrice wanted to say no. But she couldn’t turn her husband away in this weather. He could, at least, know that she was all right. Smoothing her hands on her skirts, Beatrice nodded. “For now.”

  Sanders disappeared, and there were two voices outside. Moments later Cornwall came through the door, stopping when he saw Beatrice. His hair was wet, his jacket soaked, and water dripped down his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a while or shaved for a few days. He was breathing heavily, and Beatrice felt her heart leap into her mouth when she saw how he was looking at her.

  Like a starving man.

  “Beatrice.” Cornwall crossed the room faster than Beatrice anticipated and pulled her into his arms, burying his face into her neck as he embraced her tightly. “Thank God.”

  Beatrice didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t expected this type of reaction. Cornwall had never embraced her.

  Then he was kissing her, cupping her face in his hands as he pressed kisses to her mouth, her nose and eyes, before kissing her mouth again. Beatrice almost swooned in his arms. But then she realized what was happening and managed to pull back.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” Cornwall blinked, looking like he was in a daze. “I’ve come to beg for your forgiveness.”

  “Forgiveness?” Beatrice felt like she was in a dream. Cornwall had only ever apologized once, and that was for his behaviour at the start of their marriage. She didn’t think she would ever hear him apologize again, he was too proud.

  Cornwall then looked sheepish, running his hands through his hair and sending water spraying across the floor. “I was a fool. A big fool. I couldn’t believe that I didn’t see it. What I was doing was keeping myself in a fantasy.” He looked up at her. “One that involved Lady Farley.”

  “I don’t want to hear that woman’s name.” Beatrice knew she would scream if she heard Lady Farley’s name ever again. She tried to push past Cornwall to leave, but he grabbed her arm and swung her around.

  “Listen to me, Beatrice.” His urgency stopped Beatrice. “That was the whole problem. It was a fantasy. I was being ridiculous. What I should have been doing was focusing on my wife, the woman married for the rest of my life. The woman who took my heart with her when she left.”

  Beatrice was confused. And hopeful. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re not a fool, Beatrice.” Cornwall pulled her close with a gentleness she didn’t think he possessed and kissed her forehead. “I love you. It just took me a while to see it. And I don’t want you to go anywhere. It’s why I sent the Farleys away early. I realized that my love had left when you walked away.”

  Beatrice didn’t think this could be real. He really loved her? And he had sent Lady Farley away after a short time? Was he serious? She gave him a hard look. “I hope you’re not doing this to spare my feelings.”

  Cornwall groaned and brushed his fingers across her jaw, kissing her mouth gently. “I’d never do that. Mrs Hodgkinson and Rollins were right. I’ve been awful to you. I thought my feelings of love were for someone else. But it was misdirected. My love was all for you.”

  Then he was kissing her again. This time Beatrice kissed him back. She could feel the hope turning into happiness. She wasn’t being a fool, and she wasn’t getting rejected. In fact, the duke had accepted her completely.

  She pulled away, her heart hammering in her chest.

  “This feels unreal.”

  Cornwall smiled and hugged her, leading her to the couch. “This is very real, trust me.” Urging Beatrice to sit, Cornwall knelt before her and took her hands. “Can you forgive me for the way I’ve behaved, Beatrice?”

  Beatrice knew it would take time. But she could. And she intended to make her husband make up for it. She leant forward and kissed him. “I’ll forgive you. On the condition I don’t have to see that woman again. I won’t
be responsible for my actions if I see her.”

  Cornwall grinned. “I can do that. With her true colours being shown to me recently, I don’t think I’ll be conversing with her anytime soon.” His smile faded a little, and he sighed. “I don’t care if you don’t love me back, just let me love you.”

  “Too late.” Beatrice ran her hands through his hair, feeling the water droplets on her fingers. “I left because I fell in love with you. I wanted to be your wife for real.”

  “Then how about we make a point?” Cornwall kissed her hands. “Let’s have another ceremony. Only this time we do it properly.”

  Beatrice couldn’t think of anything better.

  “That sounds like a very good apology.”

  *** The End ***

  The Duke

  & the Chaperone

  Regency Romance

  Grace Fletcher

  Chapter 1

  The Confession

  G eorgiana was looking forward to tonight. The annual Midsummer’s Eve Ball at Atwood House was the event of the year. The Dowager Duchess of Richmond was a consummate hostess and Georgiana loved the music and the laughter.

  Having it on a neighbouring estate with her childhood friends certainly helped. Georgiana couldn’t begin to think how blessed she was to be friends with the Duke of Richmond. It was a shame that he was constantly in London dealing with Parliament; he would certainly be proud of his mother’s taste for this year’s ball.

  It took a little longer than she anticipated to get ready – there had been a rip in her original ball gown so Georgiana had hurried about trying to find a replacement that was suitable – but Georgiana finally stepped into the ballroom. The room was in full-swing with much dancing and the orchestra was playing a joyous, upbeat tune. Those who weren’t dancing milled around the room with such insanely loud chatter that Georgiana could feel her heartbeat pick up. She loved a good time. Parties were fun.

  At eighteen and about to start her first Season, Georgiana was looking forward to her time in London.

  A tall, handsome woman with russet-brown hair piled up elegantly on her head with a dark red ball gown swept over to her as Georgiana entered the ballroom. Her face broke into a beaming smile as she held her hands out to Georgiana.