The Lord’s Portrait
A Regency Romance Book
The Regency Brothers in Love Series Book 2
By Eliza Dawkins
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
About the Author ~ Eliza Dawkins
Excerpt ~ The Accidental Duke’s Pledge
Chapter 1
Arabella Chamblin leaned back in the Duke and Duchess of Danvers’ coach as it passed through the London streets towards Bedfordshire House, where she lived. The gas lamps had been lit throughout the city, creating an ethereal glow that illuminated the cityscape. She loved the mystery of London at night, although she rarely had the opportunity to experience it. Today’s music lessons for the Duke’s daughters had run late.
Arabella liked to believe that ghosts were out there at these hours, easily mistaken for real people. Humans could interact with them, and they’d tell stories of the past all night long, until daybreak.
‘Miss?’ the coachman said. ‘It might be best if you drew the curtain.’
Arabella realised she had drifted off into her imagination again, and the coach had stopped. She saw others ahead, stopped as well. ‘We’re nowhere near the Thames,’ she noted, dreading the terrible odour that usually emanated from it and the nearby fishmongers.
‘There’s been an incident ahead, not suitable for virgin eyes,’ he said.
Arabella drew the curtain and turned up the oil lamp to dispel the complete darkness now enveloping her. While she had a vivid imagination, she didn’t like blood and gore and often swooned at the sight of it. She waited patiently, wishing she had a book, but her mind was still excellent entertainment.
The line of carriages moved slowly, and hers jostled her a bit whenever it moved. Her curiosity got the better of her, as always, so she peeked out from behind the curtain.
A carriage was overturned, and a man was sprawled by the roadside, in the gutter, dark liquid all around his head. A few people were watching and talking, and one man knelt beside the body. He had one hand on the dying man’s shoulder and was saying something — a prayer?
Arabella was shocked by the scene, which was lit by a gas lamp, but she could not tear her eyes away.
The praying man was dressed in the luxurious clothing of a gentleman: a tailcoat, cravat, topper and gloves, and leather boots. He was a nobleman, but he was praying over a man whose clothes seemed a bit threadbare, probably working-class. How rare that a nobleman is praying for him, Arabella thought.
Arabella crossed herself, watching, and began to pray too.
Her coach jolted and began to move forward, and the nobleman looked up. Arabella was startled to find that she recognised him: it was Lord William Windham, her dear friend Cat’s new brother-in-law.
~~*~~
William was taking an evening ride on his horse, Ember, to pay a call when he heard another horse whinny sharply. It was out of control, bucking and kicking. Ember whirled around, and William watched in shock as the horse dragged a carriage, knocked it over, and trampled a man under its hooves before galloping off.
Once Ember was calm, William dismounted and hitched him to the gas lamp. He ran over to the fallen man. Blood was flowing from a wound on his head.
‘Someone fetch a priest!’ William shouted. ‘You!’ He pointed at a flower girl, who nodded and ran off towards the closest church. William knelt, seeing a slight movement in the man’s chest. But he knew that a head wound and so much blood loss would be difficult to survive; this man was probably almost dead. He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, fearing that touching his head might do more damage, and began to pray.
The dying man wore the sturdy, practical clothes of the working class — perhaps a cobbler, William thought — and a brass wedding ring. Saddened to see this, he began to pray for the man’s family as well.
The line of carriages passed slowly by the scene of the wreck since the road was now but a small sliver of what it had been. It was difficult for two carriages going in opposite directions to cross at the same time, and a backup quickly formed.
William looked down at the man, whose breaths were getting shallower. Time was short. He lowered his head and began the Lord’s Prayer again, this time thinking of the man’s poor family…
A horse whinnied, and William’s head shot up. A coach was passing, and he saw a face peeking from behind the curtain.
He was surprised to recognise the face. It was Arabella Chamblin, one of his new sister-in-law Cat’s friends. She quickly let go of the curtain to hide her face.
William knew she had seen him, but he also knew there was no way he could properly greet a lady in such a situation. He turned back to the dying man.
‘My son!’ A vicar in a cassock was coming towards him. ‘My son, what happened?’
‘This man was trampled by a spooked horse. I don’t think he’s long for this world,’ William said.
‘Thank you for your kindness,’ the vicar said. ‘Will you assist me in offering a commendatory prayer?’
‘Certainly, Vicar, it would be my honour,’ William said.
The vicar withdrew a small prayer book from his breast pocket. ‘We humbly commend the soul of this thy servant, our dear brother, into thy hands, as into the hands of a faithful Creator, and most merciful Saviour; most humbly beseeching thee, that it may be precious in thy sight…’
Chapter 2
William rode straight to the stables at Thornton Manor and took Ember to his stall.
‘May I assist you with your horse, my lord?’ the night groom asked.
‘Thank you, but I can care for him myself,’ William responded. ‘And I’d rather prefer to tonight.’ He needed the calming action of grooming his beloved horse. He took the saddle and bridle off the horse blanket and brushed Ember down, watering him and mucking the stall.
William’s parents — Richard and Edith Windham, Duke and Duchess of Thornton — had insisted that he and all three of his brothers learn to do these tasks to bond with their animal, even though they had grooms and stablemasters. Tonight, caring for Ember also helped keep his mind from dwelling too much on the tragic event he had witnessed.
His family had suffered its own tragedy recently when John Eldredge, Marquess of Grimsby, was killed while trespassing on their family’s estate. William was grateful that while it had been a slight scandal, it was now old news. All the latest on dit revolved around his brother Henry’s recent marriage to Catherine Byers, a middle-class girl with a dowry but no title — none, that is, until her marriage. Now she was the Duchess of Thornton.
As William finished caring for his horse, the groom brought in two horses that usually drew his brother’s favourite carriage.
‘Pardon me,’ William said, stopping by the horses’ stalls. ‘Why was the coach taken out so late at night?’
‘The coach was called to the docks this evening, my lord,’ the groom said. ‘The Duke and Duchess arrived home tonight from their honeymoon.’
‘Thank you,’ he said. He ran towards the manor house, knowing exactly where to find the new couple. He entered through the sickroom behind the kitchens.
‘Heavens!’ Mrs O’Herring exclaimed as William appeared in the kitchens, smiling. Henry and Cat were sitting at the table, enjoying freshly baked bread and tea. Cat’s face lit up. ‘William!’
&n
bsp; ‘Welcome home, Brother!’ William exclaimed. ‘And Cat, of course, the new Duchess!’ She rose and threw her arms around him, kissing his cheek. He squeezed her in return. ‘Welcome home,’ he said in her ear.
‘Did you miss me?’ Cat teased, winking.
‘What’s to miss? William teased back.
Cat tried to drop her jaw in mock offense but laughed instead.
‘Sit down with us,’ Henry said. ‘It’s been a while!’ They were still dressed in their travelling clothes.
‘Ya missed yer dinner too!’ Mrs O’Herring lectured. ‘Good thing there’s some left!’
‘What could keep you from food?’ Henry teased.
‘Something dreadful,’ William replied. His happiness at seeing Cat and Henry receded. ‘I witnessed an accident this evening. A man was trampled by a horse in town. I missed calling on Lady Lily to help tend to him.’
‘Lady Lily Green?’ Cat said. ‘She’s a child, barely thirteen!’
‘Fourteen,’ William corrected, as the girl had just celebrated a birthday. ‘Mother arranged it. She and Lady Lily’s mother are friends, so they wanted us to meet. I was on my way to see her when I saw the accident. Terrible thing. I’m sure the man died.’
‘Frightful,’ Cat said. ‘He was alone?’
‘Yes, he had no one to pray for him. I was concerned the vicar wouldn’t get there in time to offer a prayer. He did, but … I believe the man was married.’
‘How sad for that family,’ Cat said, pouring a cup of tea for William. ‘Here. Have some hot tea.’
‘An’ how ’bout a nip o’ whiskey to help ya get to sleep tonight?’ Mrs O’Herring suggested, retrieving her trusty bottle from the cabinet under the sink.
‘It would be much appreciated. I don’t wish to dream about that,’ William admitted.
‘I thought the Duchess of Danvers’ two daughters were not yet old enough for marriage,’ Henry remarked.
‘I don’t think they are, but Lady Lily just turned fourteen, and her mother wants her to Come Out soon,’ William said. ‘Then she would be able to receive suitors and marry.’
‘There ya are!’ Mrs O’Herring said, pouring a shot of whiskey into William’s tea.
‘If I remember correctly, my dear friend Arabella took a job teaching music to those girls,’ Cat said. ‘I believe she’s still working there until she finds a husband. It shouldn’t take too long, with her dowry.’
‘Arabella has a dowry?’ William asked.
‘Of course! Quite a nice one. She’s a merchant’s daughter, after all. Her father put it in the care of her godfather, Andrew Wakeley, Duke of Bedfordshire — my dear friend Hannah’s brother — before leaving for the Americas. Bella’s father was lost at sea on the journey, about seven years ago.’
‘How awful!’ William exclaimed.
‘She lost her mother at a young age too,’ Cat said.
‘So she’s…’
‘An orphan, yes. But she’ll marry well. Possibly a merchant like her father. She’s a virtuous girl,’ Cat said. ‘Andrew and his wife, Vivian, took her in and schooled her, just as they did Hannah after she was orphaned.’
‘What kind souls they must be,’ William said.
‘Oh, they are!’ Cat said. ‘I can introduce you at Mother Edith’s next ball.’
‘I’d like that,’ William said.
‘Bella is incredibly talented — drawing, painting, playing music, writing stories. I can’t wait to see her again!’ She turned to her husband. ‘We must have her over soon, Henry.’
‘I’m sure we will. But you have a lot more to learn about being a duchess too, my dear,’ Henry said, squeezing her affectionately.
‘Italy was beautiful, I trust?’ William said. He was feeling tired and wanted a few pleasant images to dream about.
Mrs O’Herring buttered some bread and put it on a plate in front of him. He took a bite and savoured it.’
‘Oh, yes! The churches in Florence were lovely.’ Cat sighed. ‘We went inside the Duomo, the cathedral. We went to a Roman mass, and it was inspiring. I wish I could attend a church like that every week.’
‘I’ll always have an affection for our St Elisabeth’s, but it can’t compare to those cathedrals,’ Henry said. ‘And Cat almost fell into the Grand Canal in Venice!’
Cat’s cheeks reddened, and William laughed. ‘You did, hmm?’ he teased.
‘That’s what you get for standing too close to the edge,’ Henry added.
‘I thought I saw someone, or something, floating in the water. I didn’t realise it was just an old hat!’ Cat said, colouring up. ‘It was marvellous to meet your relatives,’ she said. ‘We were invited into some beautiful homes, and everyone was so welcoming. And the San Marco cathedral … lovely! I only wish Bella could have seen it all too.’
‘With luck one day she will,’ William said. ‘Venice would be an inspiring place for an artist to visit.’
’We didn’t forget you — in my trunk, we brought back souvenirs for you and Benjamin,’ Henry said.
‘That’s thoughtful,’ William admitted.
‘Your grace?’ his valet said. ‘We’ve made up your chambers, and hot baths have been prepared for you and the Duchess.’
‘Very good,’ Henry said. ‘Cat?’
‘I’m ready to take a hot bath after a week on the ship,’ Cat said. ‘Thank you! I’ll see you in the morning, William.’
‘Goodnight,’ William said.
~~*~~
Arabella and Hannah went to see Cat at Thornton Manor the next afternoon for tea, upon hearing that she had returned home to London with Henry from her honeymoon. Their friend Frances, now Duchess of Scunthorpe, was already there, having tea in the parlour at a table by the windows when they arrived.
Cat stood and opened her arms to her best friends. ‘I’ve missed you both so much!’ she exclaimed, hugging Arabella and Hannah in turn.
Cat was wearing prettier, fancier dresses than before her marriage, Arabella noticed, and her coiffure was more exquisite than she could do herself; her lady’s maid must have done it. She looked beautiful. ‘Becoming a duchess suits you … your grace,’ Arabella said teasingly. The best friends had long ago pledged to always call each other by their first names, no matter how their social status might change when they married.
‘Thank you, dear,’ Cat said, smiling. ‘Mary Ann, could you perhaps bring some refreshments for us along with tea? Macaroons, especially.’
‘Yes, your grace,’ the maid replied, hurrying off to the kitchens.
‘My favourite,’ Arabella said. ‘Thank you!’
‘You seem to be doing well with managing servants,’ Frances noted.
‘It’s easier than managing a husband,’ Cat said.
The girls laughed.
‘My dear friends, please sit down. I have gifts for each of you,’ Cat said, indicating the three long boxes on the table.
‘Oh, Cat, you shouldn’t have,’ Hannah exclaimed. ‘What are they?’
‘If I told you, you wouldn’t be surprised!’ Cat teased as they sat down at the table.
Arabella picked up one of the boxes and opened it. Inside was a Carnevale mask painted exquisitely in gold and black, with black feathers. ‘Oh, Cat! It's lovely!' She breathed. The mask was on a painted stick so she could hold it up to her face. ‘Where is it from? I love it!'
‘Venice, of course,’ Cat said. ‘That was my favourite city of our honeymoon!’
‘Did you have fun?’ Frances asked.
‘Of course, we did!'
‘No, I mean … fun.’ Frances arched an eyebrow.
‘Oh!’ Arabella exclaimed, suddenly understanding. ‘Frances, you’re terrible!’
‘You are!’ Cat exclaimed.
‘I’ll say!’ Hannah chimed in.
Arabella felt her cheeks burning bright red at the thought. ‘Can’t we speak about something more pleasant?’ she asked. ‘I can hardly imagine!’
Cat and Frances exchanged a knowing glance, and Cat burst ou
t laughing
‘Oh, the pair of you are incorrigible!’ Hannah exclaimed, her cheeks turning pink too. ‘Bella, is there something you wanted to speak about?’
‘Just art and the stories I’m writing,’ Arabella said.
‘The fairy tale you were writing — did you finish it?’ Cat asked.
‘Not yet. I’ve been doing more painting than writing. And teaching music lessons, of course. That reminds me … are any of the Duke’s brothers home? Lord Benjamin? Or … Lord William?’
‘Why … do you fancy one of them?’ Cat teased.
‘No! Of course not!’
‘William is home,’ Cat said as the maids brought in tea and macaroons.
Arabella gasped. ‘Oh no! And we were just talking about…’
‘Oh, relax; he’s out riding a few laps of the property with Henry,’ Cat said.
‘You do fancy him!’ Hannah exclaimed.
‘I was asking because I saw him last night,’ Arabella said. ‘There was a dreadful carriage accident. He was laying hands on a man who was trampled, praying for him.’
‘Oh yes, William told us about that. He has a good heart,’ Cat said.
‘He seemed like a kind soul when I saw him last night,’ Arabella said.
‘He is,’ Cat agreed. ‘I’d like to see him wed a nice girl, well trained in society ways and sweet. I hope he’ll court someone he loves.’
‘No one with a title marries for love,’ Frances reminded her. ‘Unless they’re lucky!’
‘Henry and I did,’ Cat says. ‘There’s hope.’
Frances smiled. Her marriage to her husband, the Duke of Scunthorpe, had been arranged by her father. Her favourite suitor — Henry’s brother Richard, then Duke of Thornton — had been killed in a duel for her honour. But she was happy for Cat just the same.
‘William had a wonderful idea,’ Cat said. ‘We sent an offering through St Elisabeth’s to the wife of the cobbler in the accident, to help her while she mourns.’
‘How very kind of you!’ Arabella said.
‘Now, about your art, Arabella,’ Cat said. ‘Frances and I want to organise an art show at her estate, Scunthorpe Hall, with all of your best works. I think it’s time, don’t you?’
The Lord's Portrait (A Regency Romance) (The Regency Brothers in Love Book 2) Page 1