Perfectly Mismatched With The Duke (Historical Regency Romance)

by Patricia Haverton

  “We know what your business is, matchmaker. We also know that you have been neglecting your duties as of late. In particular when it comes to the courtship off Lady Frances and the Duke of Gatterlen.”

  Alexandra’s eyes widened. This was about the Duke?

  “It is known that you have not done your best in moving this courtship forward and interested parties have taken note of your personal involvement with the Duke.” He looked at his companion.

  “We were dispatched to remind ye of yer station.”

  “My friend is correct. Now. Here’s what is going to happen: You will return to Hawthorne Hall at your earliest convenience and inform the Duke and Lady Frances that you are withdrawing from your chaperoning duties. Explain it however you like, my employer does not care. Just be sure you are very clear on the matter.”

  Who was his employer? Who had sent them? She grunted while struggling on the chair, hoping to break free. The Scot raised his knife and waved it in front of her in a slashing motion.

  “Sit still or ye will experience the sharp end of me knife.”

  She glared at the man but stopped struggling. She got the impression that the tall one was the one in charge. He spoke up once more.

  “You will go back to being what you have always been: a mediocre matchmaker desperate to fill her mother’s shoes. You will remove yourself entirely from the Duke’s and Lady Frances’s lives. You will not see either party again. Ever. Should you fail to comply with these reasonable requests, we will return.”

  “And we cannea promise nothin’, if ye daenae follow our orders!”

  “Do not be a fool and attempt to inform the Duke of what has transpired here today. You will keep this conversation to yourself. You are a young woman still, not quite on the shelf. You do not wish to cock up your toes just yet, do you?”

  She shook her head, terrified what these men might do should she not comply.

  “We have an understanding then? I trust you will follow our requests. Lovely as you might be, I do not wish to pay you another visit. Neither does my friend.”

  The Scot shook his head and returned the knife to the holster on his waist.

  “We shall take our leave now. Trust someone will be coming for you shortly, Miss Evans. Trust.”

  With that, they departed, leaving Alexandra tied to the chair with a cloth in her mouth, helpless as could be.

  * * *

  She was shaken. What a dreadful experience. What a disaster. There was not a doubt in her mind that they had meant what they said. Whoever had sent them was serious. If she did not withdraw from the Duke and the courtship, she would meet a dire end. And so would the Duke. She could not allow that to happen. No, she had to ensure both his safety and her own.

  She would do as they asked and return to Hawthorne Hall, just as soon as she could break free. Alexandra hopped, rocked and wiggled on the chair but could not free herself. She did not know how much time passed, but eventually the clouds outside gave way to the sun and the kitchen was bright enough see. She scanned the room for tools that she could use to free herself but found none. Everything was stored away neatly.

  Why must you be such a clean person, Alexandra Evans? Why could you not have left a butter knife on the counter?

  This was perhaps the only time she’d been upset at herself for being tidy. Alas, as she looked around her glance fell on the window. Suddenly she spotted movement outside. Yes! Someone was in the courtyard. The yard was shared between herself, Mr. Holmes, and Mrs. Ginsberg who lived on the other side of Alexandra. The old woman often spent time in the yard and did so at all hours of the day. She would often see her hobble out of her house, a mug of something steaming in her hand.

  Alexandra, suddenly energized, hopped on the chair and leaned her weight to the left at the same time, forcing the chair to move slightly. She repeated the process until she’d made it to the back door. She could no longer see the person who she’d assumed was Mrs. Ginsberg, but she had to hope she was still close enough to be heard.

  She kicked against the door with her feet, but the tight rope around her feet did not allow for enough leverage to create much of a sound. With a grunt, she moved the chair closer. She’d have to use the only thing she could readily move. Her head.

  Bracing herself, she banged the side of her head against the door. It did not work. Instead, Alexandra received such a blow that she tilted violently the other way and fell sideway, along with the chair she was still tied to. Unable to rescue herself from the unfortunate position, she was about to give in to despair when she heard a noise from the other side of the door.

  “Alexandra?”

  It was Mr. Holmes! Alexandra grunted, but of course, he could not hear her through the wooden door. Fortunately, Mr. Holmes was just as tenacious as her and he soon was able to break through the door. Upon seeing her on the ground, still bound and gagged, he paled.

  “Oh, my dear child!” He bent down to her and undid the ties around her hands and removed the gag from her mouth. He removed the gag from her mouth and released her hands from the bonds. Alexandra rubbed her wrists while he undid the knots around her legs.

  “What has happened? Who did this to you?”

  She shook her head, “I do not know. They wore masks. I do not know how they got into the house.” She stopped and looked at her friend. He looked remarkably well. Oh. Suddenly it dawned on her.

  “You are not unwell, are you?”

  He frowned at her and sat on the floor next to her.

  “I am quite well, in fact. My strength has returned. Why do you ask?”

  Alexandra pushed herself up and reached a hand out to Holmes, helping him up as well. She indicated with her head toward the drawing room just off the kitchen. There, she found just how they had entered. The window was broken, shards of glass littered the floor.

  “Oh, what a disgrace. I should like to land a facer on these men” Mr. Holmes said when he saw the mess.

  “I shall be in need of a new door and window I supposed,” she was resigned and drained after the ordeal of the early morning and sat down with a heavy sigh.

  “Do not worry about the damage, please just tell me what has happened.”

  “I received a message last night at Hawthorne Hall, from your brother, or so it said. The message said you had taken a turn for the worse and to return to London at once if I wanted to have any chance of seeing you alive once more. So, I boarded a carriage at once and drove through the night.”

  Mr. Holmes shook his head. “No, I have been quite well. And my brother is presently in Scotland, thus he would not have written to you in any case.”

  Alexandra sighed. “It was all part of the plan to get me here…the message said your door would be unlocked and when it was not, I came straight to my office to retrieve my key and they captured me right then. It was the plan all along.”

  Mr. Holmes’ nostrils flared, and he clasped his hands together in anger.

  “I should like to find them and clean their clocks for what they have done to you. What did they want from you in any case?”

  Alexandra gave Mr. Holmes the short version of what had transpired, shaking all the while as she relived those terrible moments. When she was done telling him her tale, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  “All this charade and violence just to have you extract yourself from chaperoning a courtship? It seems rather unusual. Why would they be so eager to have you removed yourself?”

  Alexandra sighed. She had not told him much about her feelings for the Duke, having chosen, as she often did, to keep things to herself. After the events today she understood that she could no longer do so.

  “The Duke and I have developed…there are some entanglements that is unprofessional. My mother would die if she heard how much I have lost control of myself.” She shook her head, amazed at how her life had changed over such a short period of time.

  “What sort of entanglement do you speak of?”

  “There have been inappropr
iate meetings and conversations and…emotions. I am ashamed to admit it, but I have enjoyed my time with the Duke immensely. It is not often that I enjoy talking to another person, and certainly never as much as I have with him. Being near him makes me feel like a different person altogether, a happier person.” She found herself smiling as she spoke of him but then the encounter with the brutes came back to her and her face darkened.

  “I must do as they say. I must return to Hawthorne Hall and tell him that I can no longer see him.”

  Mr. Holmes scratched his chin. “It sounds as though the Duke could bring you much happiness, Alexandra. I always hoped one day you would open your heart, despite your vows to never let it happen. It appears you have. It would be a shame to let it all go.”

  “I have no choice,” she replied. She felt herself getting irritable. “If I do not, they will come back and hurt me…or worse. Then they will do the same to him. No. For both our safety, I must end my involvement in the courtship at once.”

  Mr. Holmes wrung his hands. “Would it not be better to safer to send a letter via messenger? Must you return there? If only we could figure out who is behind the ambush.

  She swallowed, her eyes fixed to the floor. “I must. There are not many people I consider capable of carrying out such an attack and they are all at Hawthorne Hall right now. There is the Duke’s mother, who I know does not like me. She’s made it very clear that she would rather I am no longer involved in the courtship. Then there is Lord Cladborough, who observed an inappropriate encounter between myself and the Duke.”

  Mr. Holmes frowned, “The Dowager, you say?” He thought for a moment. “She has a rather colorful reputation among the ton. Mind you, Lord Cladborough does as well, although your withdrawal will potentially delay a wedding, thus it is not in his interest.”

  Alexandra wetted her lips, not wanting to say what she had on her mind.

  “There is Lord Hendley.”

  “Lord Hendley?” Mr. Holmes almost fell from his chair. “He is such a good-natured fellow. I should think not. Whatever makes you say that?”

  Alexandra relayed her conversation with the young Lord to him. “He was rather enamored with her,” she concluded. “And as I know well, love will make one do the most foolish things. Although I imagine he would not have the funds to hire any goons in any case.”

  “You do not truly believe he would, if he could? Not Lord Hendley.”

  She did not believe he had it in his heart to have her ambushed, no. It would gain him nothing, after all. The courtship would go ahead. Although, if he felt her presence prevented a wedding and would so damage Lady Frances’s chances at a good marriage, he might be so inclined as to intervene. Though he would not go so far as to threaten her and the Duke.

  Suddenly she grew mad at herself. It did not matter. Whoever was behind it was willing to do her harm. She rose and looked down at herself. Her dress was dirty from laying on the kitchen floor and torn in places. She would have to change.

  “No matter who the culprit is, they were rather specific in their instructions. I imagine they will want me to deliver the news in person so they can be certain I have done as they asked. If it is indeed one of the three then they will know if I do not deliver the news in person and I cannot risk that. I cannot allow harm to come to the Duke or myself. I will make myself look more presentable and go at once. No use in delaying further.” Mr. Holmes rose as well, taking the cue.

  “Please be careful on your journey. And inform me once you have returned. While you are away, I shall attend to the door and the window. Do not worry. Both will be repaired by the time you return.”

  “Thank you, you are a true friend.” Overcome, she hugged the old man and he patted her back, surprised by the sudden burst of affection.

  She ascended the stairs to her bedchamber and changed, all the while thinking of her return to Hawthorne Hall. She dreaded it already, seeing him again, for she knew it would be the last time.

  Chapter 28

  The day had been long and tedious. After canceling the morning walk with Lady Frances, Maxwell had retreated to his chambers for much of the early morning, disturbed only by Lord Hendley, who’d been eager to discover the result of Maxwell’s announcement to Miss Evans.

  Upon learning there had been none, Hendley had attempted to inspire Maxwell to join him for a stroll to lift his spirits, but they had not gotten far. The Duchess had intercepted them at the bottom of the stairs, enraged about Maxwell’s repeated abandonment of Lady Frances. Eager to avoid a lengthy lecture from his mother, Maxwell had agreed to take the Lady for a carriage ride around the Estate, with his mother as chaperone. He would tell her he had sufficiently recovered to ensure she did not suspect the true reason for canceling the walk.

  They did so after breakfast. Although it had done nothing to improve his mood, Maxwell did his very best to be attentive and cordial with Lady Frances. His talk with his friends had made him realize that she truly was just a pawn and did not deserve to be treated in the manner he had been treating her in. It was not her fault that she was not the woman who lit a fire in his heart.

  He still intended to end the courtship with her, however, he knew he had to speak to Miss Evans first. As he did not know when this would take place, he decided to keep up appearances for the time being. The entire carriage ride, his thoughts continued to be occupied with the possible repercussions of his decision.

  While Lady Frances cheerfully informed him that she would be partaking in a game of croquet later on in the afternoon, he thought about her father’s reaction to the news of the end of the courtship. Maxwell only prayed that the Earl had the good sense to take it well. Given their station in life, they would on occasion see each other. They both attended White’s and of course, the House of Lords. Though Cladborough was among the tardiest of Lords when it came to parliamentary duties. Perhaps it would be best if he spoke to him directly.

  Yes, I shall ask him to join me for a drink at White’s, once we have all returned to London. If we are in public he cannot resort to unsavory behaviors. It will certainly be a scandal, since it has been a long time since any member of the gentry wed a commoner. I cannot recall one in the recent past. Alas, as Chatterley said, it will all be alright. By Jove, to think that I am planning to wed – and of my own free will!

  How he wished he could be with Miss Evans now. All he could think about was how much he wanted to be by her side as she attended to her friend. How he wanted to build her up and comfort her. He had a right mind to travel to London at once to join her, but he knew it would not be the proper thing to do. He would see her once the entire party returned to London.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, Maxwell found himself on the lawn in front of the house, engaged in a game of fencing with Lord Chatterley. They had spent most of the day after the carriage ride out on the hunt. This time, Lord Cladborough had displayed the good sense to leave the swans alone.

  Maxwell was so focused on his game that he did not notice when a carriage arrived in front of the house. It wasn’t until Lord Hendley, who was lounging on a blanket on the lawn, called out to him.

  “Gatterlen! Look who has returned!”

  Finally, he turned, lance still in hand, and glanced at the carriage. The door opened and a woman stepped out.

  Miss Evans! I cannot believe she is back already. She did not send a message. I do not care. Perhaps I shall be able to resolve the whole business before the end of the day!

  With a spring in his step he rushed toward her, all the while fighting the urge to break into a run. A smile spread on his face as he approached her. She did not see him for she was in conversation with Mr. Thomas, the Butler, who had rushed out to greet the arriving carriage. She was dressed in a simple blue dress and a white spencer. Her hair was loose under her straw bonnet.

  “Miss Evans,” he called out when he was close enough so she could hear. The moment she turned around, Maxwell’s smile froze.

  She was changed. Utterly ch
anged. He could tell by the way her eyes met his; they were dull, lifeless.

  “Miss Evans, is your friend…has he…” He was certainly the change in her demeanor was due to her friend’s untimely passing, however, she interrupted him.

  “Mr. Holmes is fine. Chipper, in fact.”

  If it was not her friend, then why did she carry an air of a woman in mourning? He did not understand.

  “Your Grace, I would like a moment to speak with you and Lady Frances. In fact, if the Earl of Cladborough and the Dowager Duchess of Gatterlen could join us, I believe it would be best.”

  Why is she using such formality? It is so unlike her. It cannot be for the benefit of Mr. Thomas, certainly. And why does she want to speak to all of us at once? Is she planning to expose our secret? I must speak to her alone.