Duchess by Chance

by Wendy Vella

  “And yet I have no wish to dine with my wife,” Daniel reiterated.

  “Your grandmother would be saddened, your Grace.” Luton bowed deeply. “Your wife will be dining in the small dining room if you should have a change of mind.”

  Luton always dragged Daniel’s grandmother into any argument he wasn’t winning. “I will not change my mind.” He dismissed his butler with another hard look.

  As the day progressed, visions of his wife having her evening meal on her own filtered through Daniel’s head, until by nightfall they were a permanent fixture. Why he should feel guilt over his wife eating a solitary meal, he had no idea. Many married people did not eat together. In fact, they often lived separate lives and surely other marriages had not started with such tumultuous beginnings as his.

  Sighing, he climbed to his feet. I will give her one night, and one night only, he thought as he left the room to change.

  “Good evening, your Grace.” Daniel entered the dining room thirty minutes later and moved to take the seat opposite his wife. She stumbled to her feet and sank into an awkward curtsy, listing slightly to the right in her haste, then re-seated herself.

  Placing what he hoped was pleasant expression on his face he instructed Luton to bring the first course.

  Daniel was pleased that a flower arrangement partially obscured his wife from his line of vision, although he was still afforded a partial view of one side of her face. This consisted of half a matronly white cap into which every lock of her hair had been stuffed, and one eye with a delicately curved eyebrow. Blue, he thought. Her eyes are blue…or were they? It was hard to say in the candlelight. The curve of one cheek was flushed with pink and below there was half a pair of surprisingly full lips and a small chin. Her skin was smooth and he noted a small smattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Once again she was wearing a hideous dress, this one in dull grey.

  “Wine, your Grace?”

  “Thank you,” Daniel said absently as he viewed the ill-shaped bodice. Who the hell was her dressmaker? Or had she been forced to make it herself? He wondered what size - if any - breasts she had. He supposed he would find out soon, or possibly not if they just got down to the business of consummation.

  “May I fill your glass also, your Grace?”

  “Oh yes. Thank you very much, Luton.”

  She had a voice which did not grate on the senses, unlike some he could name.

  “I heard you playing the piano, Duchess.”

  His words took her by surprise and Daniel watched her fork slip through her fingers to immerse itself in the burgundy sauce nestled between Mrs. Stimpel’s tasty beef and fluffy potatoes.

  She muttered what he thought was, “Oh dear.” As Luton deftly passed her a new fork and removed the other with a pair of tongs, she said, “Would your rather I did not play the piano, your Grace?”

  “No this is your home now. Make use of whatever you wish.”

  “There is a great deal of music in the room. May I also use that?”

  “You may.”

  He knew she wanted to ask who played the piano in his family and he was intrigued to see if she had the courage to do so.

  “Do you play, your Grace?”

  “I do not.” Daniel did not give her the answer she sought to see if she would ask a more direct question.

  “Potatoes, your Grace?” Luton asked.

  Daniel waved his hand to indicate that he would pass on the potatoes, then looked across the table once more. He watched her long, slender fingers pick up a napkin. He now understood how she was able to play the piano so well. They were unadorned and he felt a tug of shame that in his fury he had given her his grandfather’s ugly ring instead of his grandmother’s beautiful ruby. She lifted a mouthful of beef and then licked her lips as a drop of sauce touched them. He was surprised to find the small gesture strangely appealing; perhaps if he kissed her before bedding her Daniel would be able to rake up some enthusiasm for consummating their marriage.

  “Did your mother play, your Grace?”

  “Yes.” Daniel did not elaborate, as he had no wish to discuss the matter further and especially not with the woman he had been forced to wed.

  “I’m sorry.” She said the words in a rush, almost as if they tasted foul

  “For what?”

  “That you were forced by your father to marry me.”

  What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

  “Tis done, therefore we must make the best of it.” He made his words dismissive, wanting to put an end to the conversation before his simmering anger had a chance to boil.

  “Will you take tea in the lemon parlor, your Grace?”

  “Thank you, no, Luton,” Daniel said, climbing to his feet. The tension in the room was becoming unbearable and he had done his duty so now he could leave. “Duchess, I bid you good evening,” he said to the floral arrangement, behind which she sat. He then turned and left the room.

  Daniel had never been a coward, yet here he was still at Stratton and his wife remained a virgin. He should have visited her room last night after their meal; instead, he had chosen his own bed where he had slept a deep, dreamless sleep until dawn. Disgusted with himself, he walked into the stables, hoping a hard ride would clear his head. The sound of his stableboy’s laughter made his lips twitch and he wondered who had evoked such a reaction in the lad who was usually so serious.

  Daniel stopped in his tracks as he heard a voice say, “I hid behind a bush once and lobbed a rotten apple at my eldest brother as he cantered past.”

  “And what happened then, your Grace?” he heard Holby ask.

  “My brother fell sideways into a conveniently located puddle. And I don’t mind telling you it was one of my finer moments.”

  Could this really be his timid wife speaking so freely to one of his stable hands?

  “Do you not like your brother?”

  The duchess was silent for several seconds and Daniel wondered if she would answer the boy’s question.

  “It is wrong of me to say so, Holby, but I do not care over much for my elder brothers. However my youngest, Reggie, is wonderful and I miss and worry about him very much.”

  He could hear the longing in her words.

  “How come you and your youngest brother are nice and the others aren’t?”

  “Well, Holby, the thing is we have different mothers so Reggie and I are thankfully different inside and out.”

  Daniel’s mind flicked back to his wedding and seeing the youngest Winchcomb looking pale and drawn as he stood beside the carriage as they prepared to leave.

  “Posy’s ready for you now, your Grace. But I’m not sure as you should be riding out alone.”

  “It is sweet of you to worry, Holby, but I have been riding alone my entire life. I see no reason to stop now.”

  She said the words so easily as if riding unaccompanied was something every young lady did. Daniel knew that, in fact, this wasn’t the case and put another black mark against the Winchcomb men.

  “I will accompany her, Holby, if you will saddle Dickens,” Daniel said as the boy led Posy from her stable.

  “Your Grace!” the duchess gasped.

  Daniel frowned as both his stableboy and wife turned to face him with identical expressions of horror.

  Green. Her eyes were green, or were they? Damn, she’d lowered them again before he could be sure. Her hair was once again covered in a silly cap but he had noted that her eyebrows were dark so possibly her hair was, as well? Looking around the edges of the cap, he searched for a stray lock but could find none.

  “I - I have no need of an escort, your Grace.”

  When Daniel took a step closer, his wife grabbed the mare’s reins as if she was preparing to flee.

  “Yet I will accompany you, Duchess, as you have no idea of the lay of the land around Stratton.”

  “I would not want to inconvenience you and as this is to be my home, I am sure riding alone will be something I do often.”

  Da
niel lifted a hand, intent only on running it through his hair in frustration, yet his wife caught the movement and quickly ducked under the mare’s neck, placing the horse between them. Daniel was stunned as she then vaulted onto Posy’s back, the movement effortless and surprisingly graceful, and then she was gone, simply waving a gloved hand above her head. The little mare was suddenly galloping out of the stables as if the hounds of hell were on its heels.

  “Bloody hell! Hurry, Holby - the little fool will kill herself if she keeps up that pace.”

  Daniel urged his black stallion out of the stables minutes later, then gave him his head. He could see his wife in the distance. Pulling alongside her minutes later, he reached for her reins and eased the mare into a walk.

  “That was foolish,”

  She didn’t look at him, instead keeping her eyes between the horse’s ears. “I had no wish to inconvenience you, your Grace.”

  She was terrified of him; Daniel could see it in the set of her shoulders and rigid line of her jaw. What the hell had her family done to her? “You have nothing to fear from me.”

  “I do not fear you, your Grace. However I say again that I had no wish to inconvenience you any further.”

  “Yet I will reassure you that I present no danger to you and it is not an inconvenience to show you around the land.”

  Daniel realized that she was as much a victim, if not more so, than he in this mess they called a marriage. He’d never had a woman fear him and was at a loss to know what to do to reassure her that he meant her no harm.

  “If you will follow me, please.” He nudged his mount forward and hoped she would follow.

  They rode in silence for over an hour, rarely speaking, just the occasional word from him about the land or buildings and a responding murmur from her. Strangely, it was not an uncomfortable ride, perhaps because Daniel always enjoyed viewing the lands around his home. He knew every dip and rise and lush, rolling inch of pasture, and took pleasure in showing it to others. She followed where he led, the thud of Posy’s hooves the only indication of her presence.

  “Stratton is a beautiful place, your Grace, and one I am honored to now call home,” she said as they neared the stables again, and Daniel heard the honesty in her words.

  “I hope you will be happy here, Duchess.”

  She didn’t reply, instead urging Posy past his mount into the stables. He watched her dismount unaided and hand Holby the reins. She then talked to the boy for several minutes and Hobly was soon chuckling at something she said. Her eyes followed Posy as he led the little mare away and Daniel wondered what she was thinking. She turned then and caught him staring at her, offering him a small smile she then bobbed a curtsey and left the stables quickly. Shaking his head Daniel led his own mount into a stable and began unsaddling him. It would be best for both of them if he left, only then could they begin to build their lives once more, and perhaps then she would also believe she was safe here at Stratton, safe from the men she feared.

  Later that day, Eva stood outside her husband’s door once again. Taking a deep breath, she knocked twice. She had to do this one thing before he left for London. Thoughts of Reggie in her father’s care were constantly in her head and she had promised him that she would send for him as soon as she could. Betsy, her father’s housekeeper, was another she had vowed to rescue. If she could just get this interview over with, she would never bother him again. Wiping her sweaty palms on the skirts of her dress, she fought for calm.

  “Enter!”

  Dear Lord, he sounded angry again. Obviously his mood had darkened since this morning’s ride. Eva felt her heart beat faster as she pushed open the door and slipped inside.

  “Can I help you?” The duke rose as she approached.

  Eva hesitated briefly, her eyes going to the hands he had braced on the desk before him. They were very nice hands - big strong hands, with blunt-filed nails. They were hands you could place your heart in and know it was safe. Hands that would hold a child secure.

  However, not her heart and definitely not her child.

  “Well!”

  Eva felt a spark of anger as he barked the word at her; she had done nothing to deserve it. When they’d last met, at least he’d been civil. Taking a deep breath, she then recited the words she had practiced long into the night. “I have need of your assistance, your Grace.”

  “Of course. Speak freely.”

  Eva was relieved when he sank back into his chair. She felt safer with him sitting.

  “I wish to have my brother and a servant brought over from my father’s house, your Grace.”

  “And you want my help?”

  Eva nodded. “My father will not release either of them into my care if the request comes from me.”

  She desperately wanted to lower her eyes - anything to avoid his intent stare - but she needed this one thing and then she would never ask him for anything more for as long as she lived.

  “I would not ask if it were not important, your Grace.” Eva wanted to yell at him to speak but he just kept looking at her almost as if he was searching for something. When the silence became unbearable, Eva turned to leave. “I will intrude on you no further.” She would have to find another way to get her brother and Betsy here.

  “Give me the name of the servant and I will see it done.”

  “And my brother?” Eva faced him again.

  “I know his name and will try to have him brought here to you. However, it may not be as easy because he is still under your father’s care.”

  She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to him. He flipped it open and scanned the contents.

  “Betsy Mullholland is the name of the servant and this is your father’s address?”

  “Yes.”

  “And it is important to have both her and your brother here with you?” he asked softly.

  “Yes, your Grace.”

  “I will make sure the request is made before I leave tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, your Grace. I fear my father will not care for them now I am gone.” Eva felt an explanation was needed.

  “I am to leave soon, however my steward will call upon you in two days’ time, Duchess. He will always be at your service, should you require anything, and will explain the accounts I have set up for you that will look after all your needs.”

  “Thank you, your Grace,” Eva quickly sank into a curtsy, then turned and walked toward the door. It was as she opened it that something inside her urged her to speak. “I wish you good health and happiness.”

  Sleep did not come easy that night for Eva and it was just as she was drifting off that she heard the sound of her bedroom door closing.

  “Who is there?”

  “It is your husband, Duchess.”

  “Is something wrong?” Eva pulled the covers aside and swung her feet out of bed. Surely something must be terribly wrong if he was forced to come into her room.

  “Nothing is wrong. I have come to consummate our marriage.”

  Eva was shocked at the cold, hard words and could not believe what she had heard. “You said to my father you would not c-consummate the marriage, your Grace - that you do not want an heir.” Eva clutched her chest where her heart was thumping with painful ferocity.

  “I may have said that to your father, yet because it is stipulated in the vow I always intended to do this as my honor is at stake.”

  Eva felt panic claw at her as he moved closer to where she sat on the edge of the bed.

  “I will make it as painless as I can, Duchess.”

  “I do not want you to…not like this!” Eva said, realizing she meant every word. Yes, she wanted a child, but not one conceived in anger. Jumping to her feet, she ran for the door but did not get far as the duke merely stretched out one arm as she raced past him, his fingers caught her and hauled her to his side.

  “This must be done,” he then muttered, wrapping his arms around her as she began to struggle.

  “Why! Who will know?”


  “I will know.” He pulled her into his chest and held her tight. “I must do this!” he rasped, “I must honor the vow my father made.”

  “P-please don’t,” she sobbed, struggling to break free from his hold. “Yes, I long for a child but not like this, not one conceived through pain and rage.”

  “Many children are conceived in such a way.” His grip tightened as she renewed her struggles. Her efforts proved hopeless, however, against a man whose strength was twice hers. “You will harm only yourself if you do not stop this foolish struggling.”

  “Please let me go.”

  “I cannot.”

  “Wh-why are you loyal to a man who cared so little for you?” she cried, still trying to push herself away from him. She knew he was naked beneath his robe; she felt the heat from his body pressed against her own. She took a deep breath, and her senses were instantly filled with his scent. Fear gripped her as Eva realized that once again she was at a man’s mercy. “I-I thought you were different.”

  “I am,” he said softly. Eva stiffened as he ran a hand down her spine. His fingers felt warm through the material of her nightdress. “But it is a matter of honor.”

  She knew further resistance was futile; the strength seeped from her body and Eva slumped into her husband. His hand continued to stroke her, as if soothing a skittish mare, and she could never remember being touched this way - not in kindness. “Honor is a word men use so they may commit a multitude of sins.”

  “I will not hurt you.” Eva felt his breath in her hair.

  “Men always s-say that but they do not mean it.”

  “I mean it,” the duke vowed. “I know you have little reason to trust me, Duchess, yet I would ask that you try.”

  “Please, your Grace, don’t do this now, not when we both harbor such a distrust of each other.”

  Daniel fell silent and just held her close. Her heartbeat had eased; one of her hands held his robe, the other lay flat against his chest. He could feel the dampness of her tears as they trickled down his neck and something inside him moved. Something clenched in the region of his heart, and he was discomfited to realize he felt at peace holding her, almost as if they were comforting each other. His fingers absently loosened the silken length of her plait as his mind worked through the emotions that raged inside him. Her words kept repeating themselves inside his head: Why are you loyal to a man who cared so little for you?