Perfectly Mismatched With The Duke (Historical Regency Romance)

by Patricia Haverton

  Alexandra nodded. Two of her clients had announced intentions to wed within the past week. The Earl of Somerset had made an offer to Lady Eliza’s father just the previous day, much to Alexandra’s delight.

  “I am certain he will soon. I know your father is anxious. Perhaps it will happen this very weekend.”

  Lady Frances clapped her hands together “Faith, it would be such a delight! And with the Lord Chatterley and Lord Hendley there, all of the Duke’s close friends are present.”

  Alexandra smiled and nodded before looking out the window again. Indeed, she had been relieved to find that the Duke had invited Lord Hendley and his younger sister, Mary, to Hawthorne Hall along with the Chatterleys. She was unsure if they would be able to spend the entire weekend, as Lady Chatterley was quite far along in her pregnancy now. She hoped so. It would be lovely to have good company.

  * * *

  They turned a bend and came upon a grand carriage house where they stopped. The carriage ahead of them carried the Earl of Cladborough and his wife, as well as two of his minor daughters. Alexandra and Lady Frances shared their carriage with two more of her sisters. A governess and the remaining two girls, as well as some of the staff, were in the carriages behind them. The entire procession had been on the road for several hours, traveling over bumpy country roads. Alexandra was ready to get out of the vehicle and put solid ground back under her feet.

  Ahead of them, the gates to property were opened and they were in motion once more. Once past the carriage house, they made their way onto the grounds. She could not see Hawthorne Hall yet. As with many manor homes, one would often travel through much of the property before reaching their destination.

  In this case, the carriage took them along a long and curved road through beautiful gardens. She spotted carefully trimmed hedges surrounding a fountain just off the road they traveled on. Large stone statues surrounded it. She recognized one as Cupid, which she found amusing, given the situation.

  From the fountain, a path led through a flower garden. She spotted butterflies in the distance which made her smile. She’d always liked butterflies. The flower garden faded from view as they rounded another corner. Alexandra let out an audible gasp as the most marvelous sight was bestowed upon her.

  A huge lake revealed itself, covered with water lilies in an array of colors. She could hardly see the water for around the edge of the lake, everything was covered in lily pads and flowers.

  “You have a smile on your face the likes of which I have never seen before,” Lady Frances commented.

  “I love water lilies,” Alexandra explained. “My mother was named after them, Lily. They always make me think of her.”

  “That is beautiful. You will certainly be reminded of her here. Perhaps we can take a stroll this weekend with the Duke and you can admire them from up close.”

  “That is a lovely idea, Lady Frances,” Alexandra said while still observing the flowers out the carriage window. A long path lead around the lake which would be lovely for a walk.

  “Oh, there is the house!” Lady Frances pointed out her side of the carriage in an excited fashion. Alexandra followed her gaze. Indeed, just opposite the lake, the manor house appeared upon the horizon. It was a lot larger than she had expected, despite the grand nature of the Duke’s London home.

  Really, Hawthorne Hall was more a castle than a manor. It had once, many centuries ago, been a monastery until the dissolution of the monasteries. At some point, the property had become the ancestral home of the Dukes of Gatterlen and the monastery had been turned into a manor home, a grand, impressive home that still bore shadows of its former life. Even just from the outside, it appeared still and soothing, yet rich and beautiful, hinting at the life that was possible within.

  “It looks rather a lot like Versailles,” Lady Frances commented.

  It does. At least it looks like the paintings I saw. One can only hope the fate of its occupants is more favorable than that of those who once dwelled in its French counterpart.

  They approached the house and took a turn at the circular driveway. Before them stood an opulent door. The staff stood lined up to the right of the front door, in order of seniority. Alexandra spotted a regal looking man standing just next to the Duke. The Estate Steward, surely. She was surprised the Duke was there. It was unusual for the head of the household to greet guests. Customarily he would leave that to the lady of the house, his mother, and join them later. The Duke of Gatterlen was not one who liked to follow convention, however.

  The Duchess was there as well, naturally. She took up the spot to the left of the Duke, at the top of the stairs. As the Earl’s carriage drew to a stop, the Duke and his mother descended the stairs to greet him.

  As a commoner, Alexandra remained in the carriage while the Lady Frances and her sisters exited to be greeted in turn by the Duke and then his mother. She watched as the proceedings took place, her gaze drawn quite naturally to the Duke.

  He was dressed in a more casual manner than he was in the city. He wore a pair of leather breeches with a claw hammer coat and a green-colored shirt. There was something about his demeanor that appeared much more relaxed than she’d ever known him to be in London.

  For one moment, their eyes met as he scanned the line of carriages. For her, no doubts. She withdrew from the window, not wanting to raise attention.

  She listened to the formal introductions and waited for her turn to exit the carriage. Several minutes passed as greetings were exchanged. Eventually she heard the group make their way into the house. The Earl’s staff exited their carriages and were shown to their quarters as she watched. She felt somewhat out of place. She was not an employee as such, but she had not received an official invitation from the Duke, which meant she was in an awkward position.

  When only the butler and footmen were left to deal with the luggage, Alexandra exited the carriage herself. She had to find out where her chamber was for the duration of the stay.

  “Miss Evans?” A man spoke up. She turned to see the man she’d spotted standing next to the Duke earlier.

  “I am she,” she responded.

  “I am James Moore, the Duke’s Estate Steward. It’s nice to meet you in person. I have heard much about you.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You have?”

  “In your capacity as matchmaker. Many of the Duke’s fellow Lords speak of your services and those of your mother before you. It is nice to associate a face with the tales. Now, I would like to discuss the itinerary with you for the weekend. His Grace would like you to know when your courtship services are required and when you will be free to fill your own time.”

  “Of course. May I refresh myself before we set out to discuss business?”

  The man swallowed, embarrassed by his faux pas. Of course, she should have been shown to her room first.

  “Certainly, Miss Evans. Thomas! Fetch the lady’s luggage.”

  He snapped his fingers at one of the butlers who then rushed over to retrieve Alexandra’s suitcase from the back of the carriage.

  “Mr. Thomas here will have one of the footmen show you to your room. Perhaps we can meet at quarter past the hour to discuss the weekend?”

  Alexandra agreed and followed the footman around the back of the mansion to where the staff entrance was located. She was somewhat surprised at this for she’d expected to be using the front entrance, just as she did in London at Woodley House. Evidently, here she would be using the staff entrance.

  * * *

  Alexandra sat on a bench in the courtyard behind the manor house, her face tilted upward toward the sun which shone brightly in the afternoon sky. It was warm enough that she no longer needed an overcoat.

  She’d met with James and he’d given her an idea of what the weekend was to entail. Evidently, the Duchess had been rather thorough with her planning; every minute of the weekend appeared to have been filled with activity.

  Presently, the male members of the party, including Lord Hendley and Lord Chatter
ley, were out hunting while the Duchess entertained the ladies in her drawing room. Alexandra was of course not invited and thus found herself with free time.

  She did not believe her services here were needed at all. Between the Duchess, the Countess of Cladborough, Lord Hendley’s sister, and Lady Chatterley, there were plenty of females here to provide chaperoning services. In addition, many of the Duchess’s friends had been invited.

  Not that Alexandra minded a weekend away from London. Far from it. However, she had the strong feeling that it was the Duke’s insistence that caused her to be there, rather than an actual need for her. She suspected the Duchess was less than pleased to have her here. Perhaps that was why Alexandra had been given a bed in a tiny room in the basement which usually reserved for maids.

  In her capacity as matchmaker she had on occasion stayed with clients at their homes. How she was treated was left to the clients. On some occasions, she was given beautiful rooms and treated as though she were an honored guest. On other occasions she’d been housed in the servant’s quarters. Never had she been made to share a room, however. Given the cramped conditions, she’d decided to take the air as soon as possible.

  As it stood, she did not have an outing with the Duke and Lady Frances until this evening, after the hunt when she was to accompany the couple on a stroll of the premises. Making the most of her time, she leaned back and closed her eyes as the sun warmed her face.

  “Enjoying the sunshine?”

  Alexandra smiled as she recognized the voice.

  “Dear Lady Chatterley, I had heard a rumor you were here.” She smiled at the woman who sat down beside her with some difficulty. “I was surprised, given your condition.”

  “Faith, so am I! But this baby is not due for another two months, and I am still in rather a mood for adventure and travel before I am confined to the bed for an extended period of time. Alas, a weekend with the Dowager Duchess of Gatterlen was not high on my list of desirable adventures.”

  “Me neither,” Alexandra giggled. She liked the Marchioness a great deal.

  “I am glad you are here, Miss Evans, it will make dinner and the evening festivities so much less dull!”

  Alexandra shook her head.

  “I am sorry to disappoint you, my Lady, but I will not be at dinner. It seems I shall be having my meals by myself as I was not officially invited. As for the ball tomorrow, I am to remain on standby in case the Duke wishes to take Lady Frances for an evening carriage ride or stroll after. Both of which are planned by the Duchess.”

  Lady Chatterley gasped.

  “You are not to eat with us? You are not a servant. You are a guest.”

  “I do not believe Her Grace considers me as such. She has dispatched me to the servant quarters for the duration of my stay. I am presently sharing a room with one of the scullery maids. A lovely girl, from what I could gather in our brief introduction.”

  “Sleeping with the staff? How ghastly!” Lady Chatterley exclaimed. She appeared so upset Alexandra worried she might have her baby right then and there.

  Alexandra had been invited to Primrose Manor, the London home of the Marquess of Chatterley, on several occasions, spending the night on one occasion. She’d been given a beautiful room on the same floor as the Marchioness’s chambers and been treated as though she were a noblewoman herself. She was touched by Lady Chatterley’s distain at her current lodgings.

  The Lady scowled. “That she-dragon is at it again! I am quite certain that it was the Duke who insisted you come, and she is doing all she can to minimize your role here. I will make a wager that the Duke has no idea you will not be joining us for dinner or the ball, as you should. I shall make an inquiry.”

  Alexandra shook her head.

  “No, please, do not concern yourself with it. I am perfectly content to stay away. I am working after all, and I am here at the Duchess and Duke’s behest.”

  “At the Duke’s behest, and only his.” Lady Chatterley said. Before the conversation could carry on much further, they were interrupted by the sounds of hoofs rushing across the ground in the distance. Horses neighed.

  The hunting party had returned.

  Chapter 24

  Maxwell jumped off the horse and handed the reigns to his stable boy. He swiftly nodded at the other members of the hunting party while walking toward the house. The longest hunt of his life was finally over.

  If it hadn’t been for Hendley and Chatterley, he would've had the most miserable afternoon. Lord Cladborough was truly a most heinous person to be around. He had shot several deer, more than anyone else in the party, and taken great pains to remind everyone time and again. While not a big lover of hunting, Maxwell would still take pride in a good kill. But he shot to eat, not for bragging rights.

  He always ensured whatever he hunted was used to provide for his family and his staff. He suspected the Earl simply enjoyed the act of shooting to kill, without consideration of what happened after.

  The two men had almost come to blows when Cladborough attempted to shoot one of the two resident swans on Hawthorne Hall’s lake. Prior to the hunt, Maxwell had explained at great length, as he always did, that the swans were not to be hunted. They were treasured pets and to be treated as such.

  To his utter dismay, upon returning, Cladborough had decided to take aim at the swans anyhow. Enraged, Maxwell had stopped him, and words were exchanged. If not for the interference of Lord Chatterley, they may have come to blows.

  * * *

  Maxwell cut through the gardens and was almost at the front door when he stopped. His mother was there, greeting some of her local lady friends she had invited for dinner.

  I cannot face her now. Not when she surely will inquire after my experience on the hunt.

  He looked around and decided to take the back entrance, through the courtyard. He stomped ahead but was followed in short order by Lord Chatterley.

  “Gatterlen, old chum, wait up!”

  Maxwell stopped and waited for him to catch up.

  “Chatterley, I must remove myself for just a little while. Lord Cladborough will surely seek to continue our disagreement if I do not.”

  “Do not let that shabaroon get under your skin. The swans are safe, and the day continues on.”

  “Chatterley, I know you are right, but the man simply makes me bristle. To shoot my swans after I told him they are not to be harmed. The weasel-faced toss pot.”

  Chatterley nodded and slapped a hand on Maxwell’s back as they continued toward the courtyard.

  “I understand he aggravates you so, but for the good of the courtship, you must swallow your spleen.”

  “Oh, the blasted courtship. How I wish I could simply withdraw from it all and be my own man again, and not bound by this tedious agreement with Cladborough.”

  His friend stopped and turned to Maxwell, looking at him intently. “You have not made an offer as yet, have you Gatterlen?”

  “No, it is far too early for that.”

  As far as I’m concerned anyway. As far the Earl goes, he’d rather have seen us wed yesterday. Oh, how I wish I would never have to wed at all. Well. Perhaps never is too strong a word. If only I could wed who I choose; that is really the crux of the matter.

  “Or, as you may say, it is not too late to undo the whole thing, should you so choose.”

  Maxwell chewed his bottom lip. They turned into the courtyard when Maxwell stopped short. Up ahead, on a bench taking in the sunshine, were Miss Evans and the Marchioness.

  “What a delightful sight!” the Marquess exclaimed. “Isn’t my wife the most marvelous woman you have ever seen?”

  He grinned from ear to ear and strode toward his wife. Maxwell on the other hand, while in agreement that Lady Chatterley was lovely, was rather taken in by the sight of Miss Evans. He was always amazed how, despite being dressed in a simple manner, she was always striking, much more so than any lady of the ton he’d ever known.

  He joined the trio by the bench. Lord Chatterley stood next t
o his wife, one arm resting on her shoulder. Maxwell always marveled at the way they looked at one another with such devotion. You would never have known that theirs was a union arranged by a matchmaker, rather than one that developed naturally. Thus was the skill of Alexandra Evans.

  “Your Grace,” Lady Chatterley greeted him. “Was the hunt taxing?”

  Maxwell grumbled.

  “Gatterlen had a bit of an unfortunate run in with the Earl, over the matter of his swans.”

  “The swans? What is there to argue about swans?”

  Chatterley grinned. “Whether to eat them for dinner or not. The Earl was in favor of it, and the Duke…”

  The topic instantly infuriated Maxwell anew.