A Pure Lady for the Broken Duke

by Hanna Hamilton

  Wilcox did not flinch but held his fake smile and took another sip of whiskey. “I have only ever served your best interests, Thomas, and I hope you understand that as well.”

  Thomas did not respond to that statement, but continued facing his Uncle and asked, “You said you wished to speak to me. And how can I help you?”

  Wilcox turned and went to pour himself another drink. “Oh, it was nothing of consequence,” he said, turning back to Thomas. “But since we have briefly touched on the topic, I want to stress, again, how important it is for you to make the alliance with Miss Comerford. The estate’s troubles, to which you allude, make it all the more imperative that you act with haste. Miss Comerford is a most eligible and attractive young lady and I would hate for you to miss out on an alliance that would be beneficial to you both. After all, you have told me many times how close you are as friends. Does it not seem logical to go to the next step and make your union official?”

  “Your argument has merit, Uncle, but…” Thomas turned away perplexed. “But I…”

  Thomas was once again facing his eternal dilemma—when it came to committing to a woman, he found it impossible—no matter how attractive any one woman might be—to give up on all the other lovely women he still wished to know. No one woman had ever completely captivated him to the extent that he wanted to marry her.

  And then he was overcome with the memory of Amanda and David, his best friend at the time, running off together to France the morning of his wedding. Alone and broken, he remembered vowing he would never trust another woman—ever again. And that memory continued to haunt and paralyze him.

  “Uncle, I am not ready. And I know for certain that Helena and I are not suited for each other. We have known each other all our lives. We grew up together and we are like brother and sister. It is not a match that she and I can contemplate.”

  “But I know her father is most anxious for this union. And remember, she brings with her, a substantial living and the possibility of a union of property when the Earl dies. You really should consider the great advantages of a marriage with her.”

  “Uncle, I cannot believe you can be so hard-hearted and mercenary.”

  “So be it, Thomas. Then you had better find another match that will work—for the health of your estate depends upon it.”

  “Thank you, Uncle, for your advice. But feel free to relieve yourself of any further responsibility for the estate. I am taking full control now and you need trouble yourself no further in these matters.”

  Wilcox nodded. “Then I think I shall go visit Mama now.”

  “Mama…” Wilcox greeted as he entered Augusta’s chambers.

  “I thought I saw your carriage drive up,” she said standing up from her desk from where she was writing letters. “Have you been visiting with Thomas?”

  Wilcox smiled and came over and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. “I have. We have had a most delightful chat. And I am encouraged that he might have an announcement shortly about his marriage to Miss Helena.”

  “You think so? Really?” she asked. “That was not my understanding at all.”

  “Well… I think he may be coming around after our conversation.”

  Augusta patted her son on his cheek and went to sit in her favorite chair. “And what have you been up to, son? It has been a while since we visited. I should like to hear all your news. Come sit with me.” Wilcox went and sat opposite his mother. “Have you been a good boy, Wilcox?” she asked with a teasing smile.

  “As good as the golden rule,” he said, teasing her back.

  “Hmm. My sources tell me you have been losing at cards rather heavily lately.”

  “Mother… your sources. Your sources? You have been threatening me with your sources ever since I was a little boy. Just who are these mysterious sources? I think they are all made up, and you just like to plague me with unsubstituted myths.”

  Augusta laughed. “Then you do not have gambling debts?” she insisted.

  He hesitated. “Well… perhaps a few. But nothing to be concerned about. Every gentleman has his indulgences that get a little out of hand, now and then.”

  “And are there any new ladies in your life, son?”

  Wilcox frowned at this. “Mother, ever since Catherine… I have not been able to think of another… We were very close, you know.”

  “I know, dear. But is it not time to move on? She has been gone… how many years now?”

  “Fifteen. Can you believe it?”

  “And you have no children to comfort you.”

  “Mother, please… Let it be. I am too old to have expectations. I am quite settled now, and do not wish to try rekindling any new flames.”

  Mother adjusted her hands in her lap and fiddled with her handkerchief. “Well, I just want you to be happy, son. If being alone suits you it is not for me to say otherwise.”

  They were silent with each other for a moment, and then Wilcox said, “Mother, your sources were correct this time. I am a little short these days. As you may have heard, my investments in the West Indies have been in some trouble, and I do not have the cash on hand that I am accustomed to.”

  “Thomas told me about that situation. I did not know you were invested in the Indies as well.”

  “It seemed to be such a good investment at the time. I bought shares for the Pemberton Estate and some for myself.”

  “I see.”

  “And I was wondering if you might be able to loan me… just a little?”

  “How little?”

  “Five hundred,” he said quietly.

  “Five hundred! Son, that is way more than a little.”

  “Three then?”

  “Even that… is not a little.” She fussed with her handkerchief again, twisting it rather severely now.

  “But I have expectations. I should be able to pay you back within a month or two.”

  Mother pursed her lips and finally said. “I can let you have a hundred.” She stood and went to her bedroom and returned shortly with bank notes and handed them to him.

  “Two months top,” she insisted. “Can you promise me that?”

  He smiled weakly. “I will do my very best. And thank you.”

  “No, do more than your very best. Promise me.”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  Chapter 5

  After the Sunday church services, Jenny would usually fill her pockets with an apple, a sandwich, and perhaps a few walnuts and head out for one of her solo hikes. She rarely attended the Sunday family meal and was off before either of her parents had a chance to object. However, they knew what delighted their daughter all too well, and would not have opposed in any case.

  It was a wonderful summer’s morning, and she decided to take a trail she had not taken before after coming to a familiar fork in the trail. It was most inviting and led to a wooded area where she stopped by a stream and took out her ham sandwich and enjoyed it as she watched a group of minnows swimming upstream.

  Resuming her hike, she soon came out of the wooded area and looked around. But she did not recognize any of the landscape and seeing a path ahead took that and started across a field.

  Suddenly she felt a cold burst of air and looked up to see that clouds had gathered behind her and were threatening to unleash a storm at any moment. She studied where she was, and seeing a small shepherd’s hut, not far off, decided to head toward that.

  She felt the first few drops of rain and she hurried her pace. Before she could reach the hut, the rains let loose and began to pelt her mercilessly.

  “Young lady,” a voice shouted to her. She kept running but turned to see who it was. A man was riding toward her on a beautiful black horse and soon caught up with her.

  “Miss, can I offer you a ride to the shelter. It looks as though we have both been caught off guard.”

  “If you please…” she said and took his hand as he effortlessly pulled her up onto the back of the horse. They galloped toward the hut. Jenny put her arms around the gentleman�
�s waist—for she could clearly see he was a gentleman by the way he was dressed. And before very long, they arrived at the hut, dismounted, and ran to the door and went inside.

  “Good heavens, where did that storm come from?” Jenny asked, shaking her head and trying to brush the rain off her dress before it completely soaked in.

  “Are you from this area?” the gentleman asked.

  “From Chatsworth.”

  “Then you know how unpredictable our summer weather can be.”

  Jenny laughed. “I am afraid I do. And it was stupid of me to go out walking without my shawl. But the weather was so nice when I started out—I just thought…”

  “Thomas Haddington,” the man said, offering his hand.

  “Jenny Barnett,” she said blushing slightly, realizing she was unchaperoned and alone with a strange gentleman in a most unseemly hut. “Thank you for rescuing me. I think I would have been soaked completely through if you had not come along.”

  “Delighted to be of service,” Thomas said.

  For a moment they both attended to their clothing then took a moment to look at each other.

  “I think I am a bit lost,” Jenny said, “I thought I knew where I was, but I do not recognize this landscape.”

  “You are no longer on public land, Miss Jenny. This is part of my estate.”

  “Oh… I am so sorry.” Then she realized. “Thomas Haddington, you are the Duke of Pemberton, are you not?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Oh, Your Grace, I am so sorry for trespassing,” she said, taking a little curtsy and blushing.

  Thomas laughed. “It is absolutely fine. It has been the custom for generations to allow free passage to the locals and I see no reason to change that custom now.”

  “How very kind you are, Your Grace.”

  “Not at all Miss Jenny. I feel a responsibility to accommodate the locals as best I can.”

  Jenny suddenly became nervous when she finally had a moment to realize exactly how handsome this man was. She had seen him from time to time in the village, but always at a distance, and he had never come into their shop as he would have no reason to. He had his own staff at Pemberton and would not need to shop for baked goods in the village.

  And then Jenny realized he, too, was staring at her with the sweetest smile.

  “Miss Jenny, you look soaked through. Might I offer to take you to Pemberton Hall where you might dry off? Then I suggest some tea to warm us up?”

  Jenny felt flustered and uncomfortable, but the Duke was so gentlemanly and kind, she could not refuse his offer as she felt quite miserable in her wet clothing.

  “One of our chambermaids will be happy to assist you and make certain your clothes are properly dried,” he said, taking a step backward so as not to make her feel uncomfortable in his presence.

  “Oh, yes… I feel quite drenched and certainly do not want to open myself up to a cold.”

  “Then shall we?” he asked offering her his hand.

  They went outside where it was still raining, but less so.

  “If I may?” he asked as he grabbed hold of her waist and effortlessly lifted her onto the back of the horse.

  She was astonished by the feelings of joy she felt as he put his hands around her. He made her feel for a second as though she was flying. The feeling startled her and again made her blush.

  Thomas’s horse was strong and swift, and before long they had reached the front of Pemberton Hall where Thomas reined in the horse and again lifted Jenny down, as a groom came to take charge of the horse.

  They scrambled inside, as the rain had picked up again, and Willoughby greeted them. Thomas gave immediate instruction for Miss Jenny’s care, and as she was being led away, Thomas called out, “Miss Jenny, I shall see you shortly. Willoughby, tea in the Reginald Parlor, if you please.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” he replied and led Jenny up the stairs and along a hallway to a comfortable looking blue bedroom.

  “I shall have someone attend to you shortly, miss. There is a robe in the armoire if you wish to change right away. And I shall have your clothing dried and ready for you within the hour.”

  “Thank you,” Jenny said overwhelmed by the whole experience. What had started out as a quiet Sunday hike had turned into a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

  Before changing, she stood in the middle of the bedroom and marveled at the beauty of the room—the elegant furnishings; the fine silk draperies, the astonishing vistas from the windows. The rain let up and shafts of sunlight began to appear on the landscape.

  And then there was this handsome man… Thomas Haddington… The very thought of him made goosebumps appear on her arms. Again, she blushed, and he was not even near her. She quickly shook her head, went to the armoire, and found the robe. She needed to focus on the simple task of undressing and getting her clothes dried.

  “Hello, Miss, might I be of service,” the voice of the young maid asked as she came in the room.

  “Oh, yes… these clothes need drying. I got caught in the storm and His Grace kindly offered to help me dry out.

  “Let me help you, Miss,” the maid said as she came over and began to unbutton the back of Jenny’s dress.

  Jenny had never had anyone help her undress before—except her mother when she was little. It felt both nice and embarrassing. And when she was undressed and had put on the robe, the maid took away her wet clothes and Jenny had nothing to do except enjoy the room and the softness of the fine cotton robe.

  The maid returned with a beautiful dress and said, “Mr. Willoughby thought this might suit you until your clothes are dried. He says His Grace is expecting you for tea.”

  “Oh… how kind.

  Chapter 6

  Thomas went to his chambers and changed into dry clothes. He was headed toward the Reginald Parlor with a most satisfied smile. What an astonishing morning it had been! He had gone out for a ride on a whim—never expecting to find a damsel caught in the rain. Miss Jenny Barnett, he thought. What a comely lass. He could not help but compare her to the many London women he had been flirting with recently, and he had to admit her fresh, open, and unadorned face pleased him greatly. But he knew nothing about her. She was from the village, but her family? Who were they? But as villagers, she would most probably come from a middle or working-class family—probably with no or little living and no title. Pity.

  He left his room and walked down the stairs. He saw a footman was answering the front door and was surprised—and pleased—to see Helena enter.

  “Dear friend,” he called out and went over to her. “Did you get caught in the rain as well?”

  They exchanged kisses to both cheeks and she said, “Not at all. I came in my carriage. Did you get caught out? You look dry enough,” she asked as she took his arm.

  “I have just changed. However, tea is to be served. Will you join me?”

  “Delighted to.”

  Thomas led her to the parlor where Willoughby was waiting to serve the tea.

  Helena took off her bonnet and collapsed into a comfortable chair across from where Thomas sat down.

  “Ah,” she cried out, flinging arms over the sides of the chair, leaning her head against the back, and staring at the ceiling as she held on to her bonnet. “My father is driving me insane.”

  “Why is that?” Thomas asked.

  “George…” she started to say, but then she stopped with the strangest expression.

  “George what?”

  “Nothing. Nothing,” she hurriedly said, then proceeded, “Father is constantly after me to agree to marry you.”

  Thomas chuckled. “But I have not asked you to marry.”

  Helena leaned forward and chuckled as well. “I know… But he is so insistent… So, I decided to come over today to see if there might be anyone else you are considering. If you were to marry someone else, he just might leave me alone with his nagging.”

  Willoughby came over to Thomas and asked, “Shall I serve the tea now, Your Grace
, or do you wish to wait for the young lady?”

  “Young lady?” Helena asked, alerted to something interesting. “Then there is someone else?” she asked hopefully.

  “We shall wait,” he said to the butler. He then turned to Helena again and said. “No. No. Nothing like that. It was a chance encounter in the rain. I happened upon a young village girl and assisted her.”