“Come on, Beth,” she pleaded. “Please? I want my little sister back. The one who would follow me around and get into trouble just as I did.”
“We were children back then. And I stopped doing that when I was twelve.” Beth pulled her hand away. “I’m not going.”
Flora huffed and sat back, folding her arms with a scowl.
“I suppose you would rather stay in Suffolk forever than stay here in London?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I couldn’t sleep last night, so I went to get something to eat. I heard Mother and Father talking.” Flora pursed her lips in disapproval. “Father said that maybe we should go back to our home in Brandeston, that it was a mistake to even consider future Seasons after everything going on. But if we leave London, we’re never coming back. No more visits and this house will be sold.”
Essentially, cutting themselves off from everyone else. Beth felt a flicker of panic. She loved their country house, but she adored London. Her parents knew that. Surely, they could ride out the scandals happening. If what Flora had overheard was true, she did tend to sensationalize things that she heard. Flora wanted to hear something more exciting than what was really being said.
Beth knew that Edward was unhappy about being in London with his businesses falling around him, but she thought he loved London as well. It was a place to be seen, and Edward had two daughters. Even though they were past the ripe age for marriage, they were still attractive enough to be considered.
They had been. Not after Flora’s indiscretions. No one would want to be associated with that. The benefactors of Edward Campbell’s many businesses had been proof of that. He would want to get away from it all, his tail between his legs. Beth knew his mood had been low lately, but nothing like this.
“Father wouldn’t do that,” Beth murmured.
But Flora was nodding.
“He would. And I know he and Mother are going to do it. Then we won’t get a chance to find ourselves a husband and better ourselves.”
Beth held up a finger.
“First, we don’t have a chance of finding a good husband after everything that’s happened. And second,” she held up another finger, “I thought you didn’t want to marry anymore. That you were put off by it after that disaster.”
“Disaster is just about right,” Flora grunted. “And unfortunately, there are times when I haven’t got a choice in the matter. I want to be married with children, have a comfortable life. Even if it’s with someone I don’t love. That’s better than going through life unmarried.”
Beth didn’t think being unmarried would be that bad. The older they got, the more freedom they would have. There was that, at least. She didn’t like having to marry and be passed from father to husband. If it happened, Beth would bow her head and let it happen – she couldn’t argue with her father on the matter – but she was content with how she was right now.
Clearly, her sister wasn’t.
“Are you going to come with me?” Flora pressed. “This might be our only chance to find someone before we’re taken out of London for good. I know you love our home, but I know you love London more. Do you want to be cut off from it for the rest of your life? Because you know it’ll happen.”
Beth knew it would. If they retreated to Brandeston, they would barely get off the grounds. The whole family would become isolated. Beth knew the reasons why, but she knew Flora wouldn’t accept responsibility for it all. Then again, it was unfair to put it all on her sister. She went believing they would be getting married. She never expected to be deserted far away from everyone and having to come back with her head down.
She was right. If they were going to get a chance to find a potential husband, it would be at this fete. Even if the thought of being in a crowd scared Beth.
#
Gerard Thinesley, Duke of Rossdale, stood on the edge of the crowd and scowled at his surroundings. This looked less like a celebration for a battle against the French and more like a brawl on the cusp of an orgy. Anything the Prince Regent set up often turned into debauchery. Whenever something was done with him in charge, it was done to excess. Gerard could see it unfold before him, and it always made him uncomfortable.
Hopefully, that would hold off for a while longer. Gerard didn’t want to be a part of anything the Prince Regent had in mind. He had been offered it in the past, but Gerard always refused. Allegra was more important than being in the Prince Regent’s good books.
He wasn’t losing his wife over a man who didn’t seem to respect his ill father’s wishes.
Gerard couldn’t believe he had been charged a fee to get into Vauxhall Gardens. This was meant to be a celebration, to show that they were in charge over their enemies, and yet they were being paid to come in. The food was barely there, but the drink was flowing. A lot. Gerard stuck to one glass and watched as several of the Prince Regent’s favourites got drunker. A couple of the women were now beginning to dance with some of the people dressed up as clowns and jesters, their husbands standing nearby laughing.
It was embarrassing.
If only he had turned this invitation down. But Gerard was doing this for Alexander. His little brother had been at Vittoria, and Gerard always supported their armies because of his brother. Alexander was still in France, recovering in a field hospital from some injuries he sustained. It was going to be some time before he was fit enough to return, and Gerard wanted Alexander back. Things just weren’t the same without him.
If Alexander hadn’t been there, Gerard would have turned the invitation down, even if it meant getting the Prince Regent angry. No one turned him down.
“Lord Rossdale?”
Gerard turned. A tall, statuesque woman with dark hair and porcelain skin was approaching him, her skirts swishing softly around her. Two shorter women, both as pretty as their mistress with blonde hair curled up on their heads, hurried behind her. Gerard gave the woman a smile and bowed.
“Your Highness.”
Princess Charlotte gave him a smile and took his hand.
“Come on, Gerard, you don’t need to bow to me. We’re friends.”
“I still need to remember my manners in public.” Gerard rose. “You may be a friend of my daughter’s, but that doesn’t mean I speak to you below your station.”
Princess Charlotte laughed. She had a clear laugh that seemed to make her whole body glow. At only seventeen years old, the Prince Regent’s daughter was quite a prize. And a beautiful one. Gerard had watched her grow up, his mother being a close friend of Queen Charlotte, the Prince Regent’s mother. Gerard’s eldest daughter was close to Princess Charlotte in age, and the two girls had played together when they were younger. Gerard had no idea how the princess had grown to how she was when she had a father like Prince George.
“Are you well?” Princess Charlotte tilted her head to the side, a little frown passing across her face. “You seem a bit ... out of sorts.”
“A little bit.” There was no point in lying, not to her. Gerard sighed. “I wish I’d never come here. I wanted to celebrate the victory, not turn into ... this.”
He made a gesture at his surroundings. Princess Charlotte nodded.
“I understand. I came here for the same thing. But Father’s got something planned a little later for his close friends. Thankfully, I’m not a part of it, but I have told him that it’s not appropriate.”
“What did he say to that?”
“Nothing I can repeat in public.” Princess Charlotte nodded at her attendants. “It would make their ears burn.”
Gerard didn’t doubt that. The man certainly had a colourful way of talking about things. It was why Gerard made his appearances with the Prince Regent far and few between. As the Duke of Rossdale and a friend of the royal family, that was not easy, but Gerard did what he could. King George’s sons were a little wayward, but they were decent conversationalists, and his daughters were sweet enough. Prince George, on the other hand, just seemed to be the typical rebel child,
even though he was in his fifties now. The eldest child who never appeared to have grown up.
Princess Charlotte had a lot to deal with, and her strong-willed behaviour was often in contention with her father. Gerard did feel sympathy for her on that. It was a miracle that neither of them had come to blows. Prince George refused to let anyone dictate things to him; he believed as the de facto ruler, he could do whatever he wanted.
Parliament was in distress over his antics, and Gerard had sat in many sessions at the House of Commons listening to it all. If parliament couldn’t tell Prince George what to do, it was doubtful that his own daughter, still essentially a minor, could do any better.
“Will you walk with me for a moment?” Princess Charlotte cast a glance over the crowd. “I don’t particularly wish to talk to many of the guests right now.”
“But you would talk to me?”
The young woman smiled.
“You and your family have always been respectful towards me and my family. I appreciate your company.”
So young and so mature. Gerard wished his daughter was like this. Hermia had been turning into an angry child who lashed out at anything ever since Allegra had died. She had taken her mother’s death the hardest, and Gerard was at a loss with what to do regarding her. She had driven away so many governesses in the last fifteen months that no one would go anywhere near them to look after his children.
Hermia needed to be taken in hand, but she wasn’t even listening to him. Too strong-willed, much like Allegra had been when she was the same age. It was no wonder Gerard had fallen in love with her. But in Hermia’s case, it was detrimental and not something to use for her advantage.
Gerard cocked his arm at the princess, and she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, giving him a grateful smile. They began to walk slowly around the figures of the fete. Many people going past would curtsy or bow at them, and the people at the stalls nodded and smiled at them. There was much gaiety, and those who were on the edge of the Prince Regent’s sphere kept at a distance from the activity in the middle. They knew when to take a step back; it was only those who thought keeping the Prince Regent on side was a good thing.
Gerard looked down at the princess, who was almost tall enough to be on eye-level with him, and Gerard was a very tall man. Her mother, Caroline of Brunswick, had been a tall woman, and Princess Charlotte clearly took after her mother. With her closeness in blood to King George, her beauty, and her composure, she would be a perfect bride for anyone. And Gerard knew Prince George was planning on organizing a marriage, taking advantage of the victory.
“I hear on the grapevine that he’s planning to match you to a man in royalty, Your Highness,” Gerard commented.
Princess Charlotte raised her eyebrows at him. A smile tugged at her mouth.
“I thought you didn’t approve of gossip and rumours, Gerard. It’s what I like about you.”
“I don’t approve of it, true, but that doesn’t mean I can’t stop listening.” Gerard nodded at her. “Especially if it concerns you. As a friend, I feel it’s a duty to make sure you’re safe.”
“You’re very kind, dear sir. It’s nice to have some good friends.”
“It is.”
Princess Charlotte sighed, allowing Gerard to ease her around the jugglers.
“Father does his own thing, as always. Parliament has been in discussions about it, I know, but Father has his own opinions on marriage.”
“You mean he has a choice that parliament might not think is right?”
“Sort of. I’ve heard a lot of rumours as well. Beatrice says that there are talks about the heir to the Prince of Orange, William.” Princess Charlotte sighed. “Apparently, my mother is against the match, which is probably why Father is pushing for it.”
“What do you think about it all?”
“It means I will have to move to the Netherlands, which I’m not comfortable about doing. But I won’t make any further opinions until I meet him.” Princess Charlotte looked up. “It’s unfair to cast judgement on someone when you don’t really know them.”
That was a very mature way of going about it. Gerard had heard of young women complaining loudly about their supposed matches that were orchestrated by other family members. They wanted to have the choice to marry whoever they wanted, which was something not often allowed in their Society. Even if they could choose, their parents would have to approve.
With Princess Charlotte, she didn’t have the luxury. She needed to marry into royalty or a very high nobleman. Nothing less would do. Gerard didn’t envy her about that. He was just glad he had been matched to Allegra when they were children; his parents had read his mind.
“You are an incredibly down-to-earth woman considering your upbringing, Your Highness,” he commented.
“I like to think my governesses made sure that I kept my feet firmly on the ground.”
“That’s something.” Gerard winced as some music started up close by, the sudden noise hurting his ears. “I wish I had said I was still in mourning. Then I could stay home with the children.”
“Your mourning period finished three months ago, Gerard. And you know that Father would have made you come if you had said that.”
She did have a point. Even if you wanted to, you didn’t say no to the Prince Regent. Gerard sighed and scowled at their surroundings.
“This may be a celebration against our enemies, but it doesn’t mean everyone has to get drunk and play the fool.”
“Not everyone is doing that, but I can see your point.” Princess Charlotte gave him a smile. “You’ve been here a while already, so you can say you’ve shown your face. You could slip away now and claim that you had a message about one of your daughters.”
That could work. Gerard knew the back routes out of Vauxhall Gardens. He could slip away and walk home and no one would be any the wiser. Hopefully, Prince George wouldn’t notice that he had disappeared. But he was not the man’s servant. He was a subject of the British Crown. In Gerard’s eyes, the monarch was still alive, and that was who he bowed down to, not the Prince Regent.
“What about you?” he asked. “Are you going to be all right?”
“I’m going to slip away in a short time as well. At my age, I can get away with claiming tiredness.” Princess Charlotte shrugged. “Father will be too much in his cups and ... other things ... to notice.”
That was not something a child should have to say about their father. Gerard looked at the princess and wondered if she had been born a boy that her father might have taken more interest in her and not seen her as a burden.
Then again, it was Prince George. He treated everyone as a burden if they couldn’t give him what he wanted. Including his own daughter, who pushed back whenever he tried to get her to do whatever he wanted.
“Perhaps I will go now.” Gerard looked around them. “Do you think anyone would notice it I slipped away now?”
“I’m sure nobody will notice the Duke of Rossdale tiptoeing out the back way.” Princess Charlotte laughed. “Make the most of everyone being distracted and leave. I won’t think badly of you. I’ll take my own leave shortly.”
“Thank you.” Gerard turned to the princess and bowed, kissing her hand. “Your Highness.”
“Your Grace.”
Princess Charlotte curtsied and then walked away with a flick of her fan, her two female attendants following her. One of them looked back at Gerard, fluttered her eyelashes, and smiled at him before hurrying after her mistress. Gerard couldn’t help smiling at that.
Looking around and finding himself close to a gap in the hedge, Gerard made his way through and into an alleyway lined with hedges. Once he got to the end of the path, he would be out onto Godling Street. It was just a short walk to his house by Pedlar’s Park, and Gerard was looking forward to the walk.
What A Wicked Duke Demands (Historical Regency Romance) Page 2