Perfectly Mismatched With The Duke (Historical Regency Romance)

by Patricia Haverton

  “She is unharmed, I see. What a great relief. Thank you, Holmes, wonderful work as always.”

  “My Lord,” Mr. Holmes bowed slightly and then left the room, closing the heavy door behind him. Alexandra stepped nervously from one foot onto the other.

  “Please, do not be scared. You are perfectly safe here. Come, have a seat with me.” He pointed toward the lush, velvet sofa. “Would you like a cup of tea and some food?”

  Alexandra nodded, as she was thirsty and hungry. She had not eaten in almost two days. Lord Alderth rose and briefly left the room, giving Alexandra a chance to look around. She rose and inspected the books. They were in a variety of languages, from English to Latin to Greek. She knew little of Lord Alderth, other than that he was well educated and wealthy. She was aware that most of his wealth came from the production of fine wines. He owned several vineyards as well as vast estates in both England and Scotland.

  She stepped to his desk, still wondering how he and Mr. Holmes figured into her abduction and rescue. She’d known they were acquaintances, however there seemed to be a lot more going on.

  Her eyes fell on a portrait on Lord Alderth’s desk. It was lying flat, as though it had recently been handled. She picked it up and her breath stopped. Her hands trembled as she clutched her locket with one hand and the portrait with the other. She knew the person in the portrait. It was her mother.

  Chapter 34

  Maxwell stopped outside the tavern James had described and entered through the shabby looking wooden front door. The tavern was located in the heart of St. Giles, not a great area to be in at any given time. Now that it was evening and the light grew dim, it was even more dangerous. The tavern had the appearance of a house of ill repute.

  The revelers inside appeared to be an assortment of rogues, pick pockets and footpads. He was sure to not make eye contact with any of them as he did not want to draw attention to himself. Alas, that was difficult to achieve, given that the manner in which he was dressed made him easily identifiable as a member of the upper class. He was an easy target; he knew as much.

  However, Maxwell did not care. He had to find her, and this was the last possible sighting of her. He was aware of the looks he drew from the occupants of the tavern. For a moment, he thought of what his mother might say if she saw him in such a place. It briefly made him smile. It was the kind of silly thought he’d like to have shared with Miss Evans, for she was much like him when it came to humor and seeing the amusements in otherwise dicey situations.

  For now, he had to concentrate on the task at hand. He easily identified the owner of the tavern. He was behind the bar, keeping a close eye on the room. To ensure nobody shot the crow, no doubt.

  “Excuse me,” he approached the man. “Are you the innkeeper?”

  The man crossed his hands in front of his arms. “Who’s asking?”

  Maxwell looked around to ensure nobody was within earshot. He did not want to reveal his identity to the occupants of the room. To that end, he leaned in.

  “I’m Maxwell Hayes, the Duke of Gatterlen. I believe my steward was here earlier in the day and exchanges some guineas for information.”

  The innkeeper’s eyes grew wide. “I see. And how can I be of assistance to the great Duke of Gatterlen?” he said his title out loud, drawing much attention. Maxwell felt sweat gather upon his brow. He had to gather whatever information he could and leave this place post haste.

  “I wondered whether there was any more information you may be able to provide, beyond what you so kindly shared with him.”

  “And what makes you think I didn’t already share all the information I had?” The man twirled his moustache while keeping his gaze fixed on Maxwell.

  Truthfully, Maxwell simply had a hunch that there may be more information to gather. James was a polite fellow and not prone to pressing a man for more than he was willing to give. In Maxwell’s experience, there was often more knowledge to be gathered by asking again or offering more compensations. Besides, he did not have any other options.

  “I hoped perhaps you might have remembered more information after he departed. I find it often is the case that things come to my mind after the fact.” He slipped a hand into his pocket and produced several coins. Pushing them across the counter, the innkeeper looked at them. Maxwell could tell he was counting the amount Maxwell had just offered. It was much more than he knew James had possessed, but if it yielded results he did not care.

  The innkeeper quickly pocketed the money, an eye on the crowd to ensure they did not see the exchange. Even in his own establishment the man clearly knew what sort of customers he was dealing with

  “Come to think of it, Your Grace, that’s what they call your kind, don’t they? Your Grace? Anyhow. Come to think of it, it may be possible that the gentlemen spoke of taking the young lady to Dover. It’s almost possible that another man joined them when they moved her to the carriage again when they departed earlier tonight. Asleep she was when they moved her.”

  “Asleep? Are you certain?”

  The innkeeper shrugged. “Asleep, drugged, asleep. It’s all the same in the end, isn’t it?”

  Maxwell swallowed at the thought of Miss Evans having been drugged. If they drugged her, what else could they have possibly done to her? He shuddered to think.

  “Dover, you said?”

  “Yes, indeed. The fancy looking chap was tasked with transporting her from Dover to the continent.”

  Maxwell’s heart dropped. To the continent? They intended to send her out of the country? It could not be.

  “Who were these men?”

  The innkeeper shook his head.

  “I saw one of them before. John, they called him. He’s a rogue for hire, often does the dirty work for your lot. Nobles who don’t want to deal with their own mess. The others, I don’t know. But like I told your man this afternoon, they departed an hour or so before he arrived to ask questions.”

  Maxwell realized there was no more information to be gathered from the innkeeper. He knew enough to continue his search. Dover. He had to get to Dover. He’d need to return to Woodley House and retrieve his curricle.

  “I thank you, good sir,” he said to the innkeeper, figuring it paid to be polite in any case. Without waiting for a reply, he departed and got on his horse.

  * * *

  It was now utterly dark. St. Giles being one of the poorest slums in the city meant it did not have streetlights and the darkness made the neighborhood all the more threatening. He could not wait to reach the safety of Mayfair.

  A part of him regretted not asking one of his friends to come along, for he would have felt more secure. Alas, the only thing he could do now was to ride back. He’d returned the way he’d come but soon realized that the road he’d traveled on was now overrun with Cyprians and light-skirts as well as those men interested in their business.

  Taking into account the nature of the rookery and the particular activities that had commenced, he decided to ride a different way toward town. He could see St. Giles in the Fields close by and knew his way from there. He rode on toward the church, leaving behind the unsavoriness of the district.

  He’d ridden just past the church when a blood-curdling scream sounded out from a side street. He turned his horse around and rode in the direction it came from. A row of warehouses was just across the street from where he was, and the sound had come from somewhere around there. But where?

  “Hello?” He called out, hoping the woman would make herself heard again so he could find her.

  “Help!” She shouted, sounding much in distress. Maxwell jumped off his horse and rushed toward the voice. Whoever it was, they were clearly in a state of panic and in need of assistance. Despite the danger, Maxwell would never be able to forgive himself for not helping. After all, if it were Miss Evans who was screaming for help, he’d expect someone to assist her.

  “Where are you? Call out!” He shouted again and the woman did.

  “’Ere! Mi lord! ‘Ere!” the acc
ent spoke of East London and the voice sounded older now that he could hear it clearer.

  He walked toward an alley and for one moment, saw an older woman sit atop a box, legs crossed, a wide grin on her badly made up face. Next to her was a man, holding a long piece of wood. In an instant, Maxwell understood he was in the suds. Before he had any time to regret his foolish attempt at being a hero, he received a blow to the head and the world went black.

  Chapter 35

  Alexandra still stood with the portrait in her hand when Lord Alderth returned.

  “Why do you have a portrait of my mother on your desk?”

  The man stopped where he was and gave her a long look. He had a kind face, lined with faint wrinkles. He was well put together and carried the air of a true noble. After a moment, he sighed and indicated toward the sofa.

  “I shall explain, Miss Evans. Please. Take a seat.”

  She hesitated, but really had no choice but to do as he asked. She was not about to storm out of the room and the warehouse into the night. Certainly not while in St. Giles.

  She sat, the portrait of her mother still in her hand. Her mother looked younger than Alexandra in the painting, but she would have recognized her anywhere. Lord Alderth glanced at the portrait and she thought she detected some sorrow in his eyes. He folded his hands in his lap and cleared his throat.

  “I wish you had not seen the portrait as it forces me to make my revelations in a more blunt manner than I had planned.”

  “Revelations? What sort of revelations do you speak of, Lord Alderth?”

  “Miss Evans, the simple truth is that your mother and I were once two young people in love. A love that resulted in tragedy but also joy for it brought you into the world. Bluntly said, you are my daughter.” He fixed his gaze upon her as the portrait trembled in her hand.

  “My father died when I was a child, Lord Alderth. It is not kind of you to say such things.”

  He shook his head. “Lily, your mother, told you that you father died because it was an agreement we made long ago. The truth is, and always has been, that I am your father. I have wanted to be in your life for so long. I’ve longed to be with your mother, but it was not to be.”

  The sadness was thick in his voice.

  “I do not understand, Lord Alderth. Why would my mother tell me my father had died? She lived her entire life in misery because he died and left her behind. If you were my father, why would she not have told me? No! I can’t believe it is true.”

  She got up and paced the room while the Earl leaned back and rubbed his temples with his fingers.

  “I met your mother long ago, quite by chance. The details of our first meeting matter not, only that I was mesmerized by her the moment I saw her. Her radiance, her beauty stunned me. I could not help but go up to her and speak to her. Scandalous as it might have been. The short story is that we fell in love.” He fell silent and looked at the portrait in Alexandra’s hand.

  “Then why did you not wed her? Why all the stories about your death?”

  It makes no sense. She would not have lied to me all my life about him. Never.

  Lord Alderth averted his eyes and rubbed his hands together. “I was betrothed to another. It was a different time then. Once betrothed it was near impossible to break the agreement. My father would never have allowed it. It would have caused damage to both our families. There was no way. And of course, Lily was …”

  “A commoner,” Alexandra finished the sentence. She knew all too well what that meant.

  “Yes. I should have walked away and let her be, but I could not. I wanted so badly to be with her. We talked about running away together, but we knew it was not possible. I was the new heir and responsible for the family, I couldn’t run away as much as I wanted to.”

  “Alas, it did not inspire you to leave my mother be, as I am proof of that.” She was aware that her voice was icy. She had yet to find it in her to have affection for this man who claimed to be her father. She had yet to hear why he felt she should ever forgive him.

  “It is true. We did not stay away from one another. When I found she was pregnant I confessed to my father. I begged him to end the courtship and betrothal with my intended, but he refused. In the end, I was forced to wed her.”

  “Forced? You could have still run away with my mother. You could have still…”

  “No. I could not. You see, my father’s business was a partnership with the Duke of Shropshire. Together they owned multiple vineyards. Together, they built the business that I still run today. They created one of the finest wine production operations in the country, and in doing so increased the wealth of both families.”

  “How fortunate for you,” Alexandra said coldly, thinking of the life she’d lived with her mother. While never poor, they had been far removed from the life the Earl described. “I fail to see how this prevented you from marrying my mother.”

  “The young lady I was betrothed to was the daughter of the Duke of Shropshire. To end the courtship would have irreparably damaged the business. Your mother understood. She knew I would not be able to wed her, or share my life with her, for that was the way of the world then. She never asked me for anything. She wanted to support herself. I ensured she had what she required whenever the need arose. I always kept an eye on her and you.”

  “And you never saw her? Why did you not remain in her life?”

  Lord Alderth wrung his hands, a pained expression upon his face.

  “I did. We did. After I first wed, while she was pregnant with you, I went to see her as often as I could. Even after you were born. I held you when you were just a wee infant. And for a time, I thought that could be my life. I could have it all. Be married and uphold my responsibilities to my family, but also have the woman I loved and our child in my life.” He shook his head. “It was not to be.”

  There was a knock on the door and a servant entered when prompted. She carried a tray of pastries and sweets along with a teapot and cups. Placing it carefully in front of Alexandra, she bowed and departed.

  Alexandra’s appetite had disappeared despite not having eaten in days. She was eager to hear more of this man’s story. She could not make herself think of him as her father just yet.

  “Tell me more, please.”

  He nodded, “Of course. I shall tell you everything. For a year, Lily and I met regularly in secret. An arrangement that was not ideal, but it meant we could be in one another’s life. However, then my father-in-law passed away. I was left in charge of the vineyards and forced to move to Shropshire. We wrote letters every week and saw each other whenever I was in London for business. I always planned to return to London but then things took another turn.”

  Alexandra chewed her bottom lip. This was a lot of information to take it. It was not that she did not believe the Earl, he had no reason to lie. But the idea that her mother had kept it all from her all these years was difficult to comprehend. The Earl continued his explanation.

  “One day, my wife discovered the letters Lily had written me. She was with child at the time and the shock of discovering my other life caused her to lose the child. She fell into deep melancholy. Upon hearing the news, your mother told me we had to end any involvement for it was causing too much sorrow for us all. And I knew she was right.”

  Alexandra began to understand. “So, in order to ensure she would not be ruined, you told the world, and me, that her husband died?”

  The Earl nodded in agreement.

  “She had already told everyone that her husband was a sailor, away on the high seas for much of the year. It was simple for her to say he had died of consumption on one of his voyages. To help her start a new life, I installed her at the house on Foxberry Lane. I provided funds to start her business. Beyond that, we agreed to not see one another again. And I did not. I did however keep an eye on you all of your life. My men always looked out for you on my behalf.”

  “Your men? What do you mean?” It took her a moment of contemplation and then she understood
. It was as though pieces of a puzzle came together at once. “Mr. Holmes is one of your men, is he not?”

  Lord Alderth nodded. “Indeed. Both he and his wife agreed to become guardians of sorts. The jewelry business was the perfect front for Mr. Holmes was indeed an exquisite jeweler. It was only fortunate that you and your mother took to Mr. Holmes as you did, as it made it easy for him to keep tabs on you and for me to provide for you when needed.”

  “Provide for us? I do not recall provisions being made. I recall my mother struggling often.” Anger surged in her at the thought of how much easier their life would have been, had he been involved, had he revealed his existence sooner. Lord Alderth nodded, his lips turned down.

  “She did not want to help, so I would not simply provide large amounts of money. I had to be careful. Whenever Mr. Holmes revealed a need, I would find a way to help in a way that seemed natural, a stroke of luck, rather than help from a secret benefactor.”