Simon bowed low. “My Lord, it is indeed,” he said.
“What brings you my way, Simon?” asked Michael.
“His Grace, your Papa, is ill and sent word for you, my Lord,” said Simon.
“Tell him that I shall not step foot in the castle, a place I was banished from,” said Michael, anger surging through him.
“But you must, my Lord,” said Simon as he looked earnestly at Michael, wondering whether he had overstepped his mark by insisting that Michael come to see his father.
Oliver, who was listening to the conversation, turned to Michael. “You must leave for Havenshire Castle, Michael. This is the time to make peace with your Papa and who knows, he might divulge what you are waiting to hear,” said Oliver.
Michael looked at his friend. Oliver had always given him sound advice and Michael knew that this time it was good advice too. “Tell my father that I shall be there tomorrow before dusk,” said Michael.
Simon bowed low. “I shall, my Lord,” he said as he walked toward his horse.
When Lord Michael Havenshire was a child, the castle in Havenshire had seemed as cold as the stones in its walls. He had grown up amongst a governess, butler, housekeeper and a number of footmen, but never with a mother. He looked with envy as his cousins called out to their mothers, and their mothers, his aunts, would hug his cousins and kiss them while Michael watched, fascinated by the love that his cousins were showered with constantly.
Today he was returning to the place of his birth – Havenshire Castle. Lord Michael Havenshire rode through the woods; his head bent low so as to shield himself from the pelting rain. His face felt frozen as he shivered in the cold. His thoughts raced to his dying father, Duke John Havenshire. Would his father last long enough for him to reach Havenshire Castle? Lord Michael found himself praying that his father would live to answer the question that had been an eternal roaring fire for so long. Who was his mother and why had his father banished her from Havenshire Castle?
He slowed down when his thoughts strayed toward two women, one who had been the cause of his banishment, Alice Bentham, and the other, the beautiful Lady Clare Hatherton, who was the prettiest woman Michael had ever encountered. He had met her at the funeral of his uncle, Duke Nathaniel, in Hampshire two years ago. Duke Nathaniel Frampton was a cousin of his father and had died tragically when the cabriolet he was traveling in tipped over, pinning him underneath and instantly killing him. Michael had later learned that Lady Clare Hatherton was the niece of his late Uncle Nathaniel’s wife, Duchess Juliet Frampton, and held a colossal fortune to her credit from her paternal grandparents, who were the Duke and Duchess of Hatherton Castle. Michael forced himself not to think of Alice Bentham and prayed that she would not cross his path.
Michael Havenshire had led a carefree life with wine, women and song. He had a woman wherever he went and was never short of them, being a handsome man who took after his father.
Lightning flashed, followed by claps of thunder and Michael shivered. Whether it was out of cold or fear, he did not know.
Just like his mother, he had been banished from the castle by his father. The animal of lust within him had been the cause of his banishment, although he blamed Alice Bentham for it. Alice Bentham was the daughter of Paul and Leticia Bentham, who were the butler and housekeeper at Havenshire Castle and Duke John’s trusted aides. Alice had been eighteen when Michael had trained his leering eye on her. If not for his father passing by and hearing Alice’s protests, Michael knew he would have taken her in his bedroom.
Duke John Havenshire had been furiously angry with his son. “You are to leave the castle immediately. I don’t want a repetition of…” Duke John’s voiced had trailed off and Michael saw pain in his eyes.
Michael had waited for him to continue, but his father had looked away. “Well, in that case, I shall leave now, although I have always wanted to ask you one question that has burned through my entire being for the whole of my life, but I think that can wait,” Michael had said before he left the castle. Now he was returning.
“Well, all that is said,” Michael said to himself as he looked up and saw Havenshire Castle looming before him. Michael dismounted his stallion and paused halfway down the combed gravel drive, as the stairs sweeping around each side of the columned portico brought back so many memories of his childhood and youth. This was home. It looked so solid. So impregnable. So safe. Shivering against the north wind gusting down from the range of hills beyond, Michael tethered his stallion to the iron pole left for visitors’ horses. Nothing had changed, but then his father would not let anything be changed. He was a man who lived for his ancestors and their beliefs and likings, traditions and cultures.
Michael almost jumped out of his skin when Paul Bentham, his father’s butler, appeared from behind one of the many high columns that regally stood as if holding the roof of the castle.
“Lord Michael,” said Paul.
Michael looked at Paul Bentham, who had not a crease in his starched uniform, a trait that had been Paul’s for a very long time. “Paul, and how are you?” asked Michael with a smile.
“Very well, my Lord,” said Paul with a slight lift of his upper lip. How he did that was a mystery to Michael.
“How is Papa?” asked Michael as Paul and he walked into the castle.
“His Grace is holding on…maybe awaiting your arrival,” said Paul, and Michael distinctly caught a smirk in the butler’s voice.
Michael walked into the castle and stopped in the corridors. He ran his hand over the walls as if trying to make contact with the place where he was born and had grown up, and was finally banished from entirely.
Paul Bentham stood behind Michael and cleared his throat. Michael turned and nodded as he continued to the West Wing of the castle, where his father’s suite of rooms was located.
Leticia Bentham stood outside Duke John’s bedroom and smiled when she saw Michael. “I am glad you are back, Lord Michael,” she said.
“It is good to be back, even if for a short while,” said Michael as he stopped before Leticia.
“His Grace has been asking for you,” said Leticia, nodding toward the bedroom.
“Oh, now isn’t that a pleasant surprise,” said Michael with a grin.
Leticia shook her head. The boy she had known from birth and the man he had become had not changed at all.
Michael walked into his father’s bedroom, which looked depressing, maybe because death hung around, waiting to plunge into his father’s being. “Papa,” said Michael as he knelt beside his father’s bed.
His father turned his head ever so slowly and looked at his Michael; his only son, his wayward son. The old duke nodded and kept his gaze fixed on Michael, which unnerved Michael a bit. His father’s stare was penetrating and bore through his heart like a spear. Lord John patted his bed, not taking his gaze away from his son. Michael saw sadness in his father’s eyes, or was it regret; he did not know.
“Papa,” said Michael as he sat down beside his father, who was now struggling to sit up. Paul emerged beside Duke John and helped him to sit up. Michael looked at Paul and wondered how he managed to be around when he was needed, even though no one called him. It unnerved Michael to have the old butler around.
Duke John coughed and Paul poured a glass of water from the pristine white porcelain pitcher that stood on a small table beside Duke John’s bed. Duke John declined the water with a wave of his frail hand. “Leave us be for a while, Paul,” he said. Michael was surprised to find that his father’s voice was still strong and vibrant when he spoke to Paul.
Paul hovered around for a while and then when Duke John nodded, he left the bedroom, which Michael thought he did with reluctance.
Michael smiled at his father. He felt as if his father was trying to shut out the past and open a new chapter in his life.
“I am now on my way to His Abode,” said Duke John as he pointed his index finger upward. “It’s been a long and tiring journey for me, with so many…ups and do
wns, disappointments in abundance…people who I loved dearly who disappointed me,” he said, as he trained his eyes toward Michael.
Michael looked down at his clasped hands. “Papa…” began Michael, but the old Duke held up his hand.
“I know the question that is burning inside you, for which you seek an answer, and I will tell you today,” said his father. “Elizabeth was a beautiful girl. I fell in love with her instantly when I saw her riding her white pony across the meadows beyond,” said his father, waving his hand toward the window.
“She had no peerage, but was a farmer’s daughter. But young as I was, I…did not seek peerage or even want a Lady to marry. I wanted to marry Elizabeth,” sighed Duke John as he closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to recollect his youth and the young love that he’d had for Elizabeth.
Michael watched him closely and something tugged at his heart. His father continued.
“She was reluctant at first, but then conceded to marry me and I did. You were conceived on the night of our wedding and Elizabeth and I were overjoyed…but alas, after you were born…I felt Elizabeth drifting away from me,” said his father with sadness in his eyes.
Duke John sighed again. “Every night she used to go to the library with the pretense of reading books about our ancestors so that she could gain a better knowledge of being Duchess, and it was there that I found her one day in the arms of my trusted footman George Hetherstett. They were both so engrossed in their hugging that they failed to see me and I just stood there, unable to speak…” Duke John sighed once again.
“Papa, take a rest. I am not going anywhere, you can tell me all this tomorrow,” said Michael when he saw how tired his father looked. He knew it was heart rending for his father to recollect what his mother had done, and strangely, he felt no animosity toward his father, but toward his mother.
Duke John shook his head. “I have no time…my son,” he said. “And when they pulled apart, they left the castle forever. I banished your mama with nothing but the clothes she wore and George with what he had on,” said Duke John.
“Where is she now?” asked Michael.
“I heard that they had moved to Devon and she is still living with George; they had two children, Jeremy and Jane,” said Duke John.
“They must be grown up now,” said Michael thoughtfully.
“Indeed…”said his father. Duke John coughed and once again Paul appeared, holding a glass of water in his hand.
The following morning, when Paul walked into his master’s bedroom, he knew that his master had left this world. Duke John Havenshire had died. He had died making peace with his son, and revealing a secret that he had kept to himself for years.
2
CHAPTER TWO
THE LAST WILL
THE LAST WILL
“Those we love don’t go away. They walk beside us every day. Unseen, unheard, but always near. Still loved, still missed and very dear.” ~ Unknown author
Duke John Havenshire’s funeral was attended by a vast number of people from near and far. Michael was surprised at the number of friends his father had. However, his eyes searched for one person he thought would put all differences aside and be there to bid his father farewell – his mother, Elizabeth Hetherstett.
“Is my mother here?” whispered Michael to Charles Kingsbury, his father’s barrister.
Charles shook his head. “I thought she’d be here too. Your father loved her very much,” said Charles in a low voice.
“Well she must be aware of his death,” said Michael. “And she should have been here to bid him farewell,” he concluded.
Charles nodded. “I looked around too, but no, Elizabeth is not here,” he said.
After the funeral, Michael stayed at the castle for a week and then had to meet with Charles Kingsbury in connection with his father’s Last Will.
Michael was in his father’s study when Charles Kingsbury called at the castle. “Good morning to you, my Lord,” said Charles.
Michael nodded. “Good morning, Charles,” he said, although the weather out was inclement. It had rained the whole night and continued to drizzle even in the morning, a heavy mist lacing the hills beyond.
Charles sat before Michael and took out a brass key from a small red velvet pouch. Inserting it into the brass lock of a brown leather case, Charles pulled out a file of papers. Charles looked at Michael for a few minutes and smiled. “His Grace was very particular when he drew up this Will,” said Charles as he tapped the sheaf of papers.
“Particular?” asked Michael as he cocked his head to a side. Charles nodded and smiled.
When Michael heard Charles read the Last Will, his heart did a quick somersault. What on earth was his father thinking when he drew up this nonsense, Michael thought.
“I am sorry my Lord, but this is what His Grace, the late Duke John, wanted,” said Charles as he looked at Michael.
“This is rubbish, Charles. From where am I going to find a Lady with a huge inheritance and moreover, what Lady would want to marry a man with a reputation such as mine?” asked Michael as he gazed out of the window, as he trained his eyes to the mist, which had mingled with the thick fog. He felt as if his heart was covered with a heavy mist too. This was too much for Michael. He knew that marrying into an aristocratic family like his own would curb his wayward ways, and he had no intention of curbing them anyway.
“I believe that there will be someone,” said Charles and Michael admired his belief.
“Oh, do they come all gift-wrapped and standing on the shelves of the marketplace, waiting to be purchased?” asked Michael and Charles roared with laughter as Michael grinned.
Michael once again looked out of the window when he remembered Lady Clare Hatherton. “Charles, I have it,” said Michael, slapping his hand on his thighs, which made Charles jump. “Do you know Lady Clare Hatherton?” asked Michael.
“Who does not?” asked Charles.
“She is not spoken for, is she?” asked Michael.
It then dawned on Charles what Michael had in mind. “Oh no, Lady Clare Hatherton is the proudest, richest and most famed of ladies in the country,” said Charles. “And I don’t think her parents would agree to you marrying her,” he concluded.
“Why not?” asked Michael. “I inherit Havenshire Castle and its estate, the Duchy, and become a Duke, and she becomes Duchess of Havenshire Castle,” said Michael and Charles admired his confidence.
“My Lord, don’t you think that Lady Clare is short of suitors. From what I have heard, there have been several proposals so far and she has rejected each one of them,” said Charles.
“That’s because she’s been waiting for me to arrive,” grinned Michael.
Charles grinned.
“Let me apply for the post as well,” said Michael with a mischievous grin.
Charles nodded. “Good luck to you, my Lord,” he said as he rose and picked up his leather briefcase.
“Thank you, Charles,” said Michael as he shook hands with the middle-aged barrister, who had been his father’s best friend and confidante.
Michael sat in his father’s study for a long time. He had not had his breakfast yet and his stomach growled. The door to the study opened and Paul walked in carrying a tray of scrambled eggs and a portion of bacon, cereal, bread and a steaming pot of tea.
“My Lord must be famished,” said Paul with a smile.
Michael was astonished to see the change in Paul. “Thank you, Paul,” said Michael as he tucked a napkin into the collar of his shirt and looked appreciatively at the spread of food before him.
“Would there be anything else you need, my Lord?” asked Paul.
“Not at all, Paul, and thank you once again,” said Michael.
Paul was about to leave the study when Michael stopped him. “Paul, do you know where my mother lives?” he asked. Paul stood rooted to the floor and then he slowly turned to look at Michael.
“Your Mama…My Lord, I don’t think it is advisable that you go visit he
r now,” said Paul, who feared that Elizabeth Hetherstett would be a frequent visitor to the castle once she had contact with her son.
As if Michael could read the old butler’s mind, he looked at Paul and smiled. “Paul, don’t worry. I shall not ask Mama to come to the castle and I am sure she would not want to, as she did not even care to attend Papa’s funeral,” said Michael. Although Paul nodded his head, Michael could see that the old butler was not convinced.
“Do what you think is best, my Lord,” he said as he walked out of the study, his head held high.
Michael watched as Paul left. He knew that everyone from Paul to the other servants in the castle knew of what his mother had done, but that was a long, long time ago. People made peace with enemies and why should he not make peace with his mother?
Michael decided to go in search of his mother.
3
CHAPTER THREE
FORTUNE AND INHERITANCE
FORTUNE AND INHERITANCE
“I am come, young ladies, in a very moralizing strain, to observe that the pleasures of this world are always to be for, and that we often purchase them at a great disadvantage, giving readi-monied actual happiness for a draft on the future, that may not be honored.” ~ Jane Austen
Lady Clare Hatherton sat before the gilded framed mirror in her bedroom as she inspected her eyebrows closely. She was a beautiful girl whose blonde hair shone like spun gold that framed around her angelic face. Her eyes were blue as forget-me-nots and she came from a highly connected family of dukes and duchesses, lord and ladies. Being an only child, her fortune and inheritance knew no bounds. She knew how much she was worth and how much she had and would have in the future. She was highly skilled in numbers and arithmetic and outshone her cousins, who were subtly jealous of her. Her parents Duke Andrew Hatherton and Duchess Grace Hatherton were proud of their only daughter and very protective of her as well. They were well aware of the number of male eyes that searched her when she rode her stallion Mirabella or when she accompanied her parents on their frequent travels abroad. The proposals from potential suitors had been immense, but her parents wanted the best for her and the best had not come along as yet.
Regency Romance: To Capture The Duke’s Heart (CLEAN Historical Romance) (The Inheritance Saga) Page 8