Regency Romance: To Capture The Duke’s Heart (CLEAN Historical Romance) (The Inheritance Saga)

by Jessie Bennett

  Her heart was set on attending the Red Ball with her cousins, the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland.

  “Maria,” said Clare as she turned to her personal maid, who was in the process arranging her bed.

  “Yes, my Lady,” said Maria as she turned to look at Clare.

  “We shall go shopping today,” said Clare and Maria’s eyes lit up. She knew if she accompanied Lady Clare to the haberdashery, Lady Clare would always buy her something nice.

  “Of course, my Lady,” said Maria as she curtsied.

  “Then we shall leave by nine. Tell Wilhelm to have the carriage ready by then,” said Lady Clare and smiled when she saw Maria blush at the mention of Wilhelm. She had been told that Wilhelm and Maria were in a close relationship, but Maria had not told her anything, and even though she was a servant, Lady Clare respected her silence. She knew Maria would tell her in good time and when they were both ready.

  Lady Clare and Maria left with Wilhelm at nine. They headed to the village and then stopped at the haberdashery. “We will be gone for about an hour, Wilhelm. You could park the carriage over there and wait for us,” said Lady Clare as she pointed to a shady area where a few cabriolets were parked.

  “Yes, my Lady,” said Wilhelm as he tipped his hat.

  Lady Clare and Maria entered the haberdashery and were almost immediately welcomed by Vincent and Millicent, the owners. They had been in business for a very long time and the haberdashery had been handed down to Millicent by her parents. It was a well patronized part of the village.

  “What can we do for you, Lady Clare?” asked Millicent, smiling as she came toward Clare.

  “I need a few hats and some lace,” said Clare as she accepted the chair offered by Millicent.

  Millicent rushed around as her assistants brought boxes of hats for Clare’s inspection.

  “We shall go from here to see Evelyn,” said Clare to Maria.

  Evelyn was the local seamstress in Bath and she was also called the local newsprint on account of her gossipy ways. However, there was no other seamstress in Bath who could turn out beautiful ball gowns like Evelyn did. Duchess Charlotte Frampton, Duchess of Cumberland, frequently patronized Evelyn’s dress shop and it was Charlotte who had recommended Evelyn to Clare. Duchess Charlotte and Lady Clare were cousins and very pretty women.

  Having purchased a pretty hat and ribbons, Lady Clare and Maria proceeded to Evelyn’s shop.

  Evelyn was putting the finishing touches on Duchess Charlotte’s ball gown with the help of her good friend Maud when Lady Clare and Maria walked into the seamstress’ pretty shop. “My Lady,” said Evelyn and Maud together as they bobbed down in curtsy.

  “Hello, Evelyn and Maud,” said Clare brightly.

  The other two women liked Lady Clare, as she always stopped to speak to them if she met them on the road. She was like her cousin Duchess Charlotte, although in the distant past Duchess Charlotte had been an upstart woman who was bent on ruining her husband’s money. Nevertheless, today a mother of three beautiful children, Duchess Charlotte had changed her ways and was liked by everyone in Bath.

  “I am sure you have loads of work to do now that the Red Ball has been announced,” said Lady Clare.

  “Yes, my Lady; there is so much to be sewn and very little help. In fact, I put up a notice at the local post office calling for any lass who would be able to help us out,” said Evelyn.

  Lady Clare smiled. “But I am sure none would be as adept at the needle as you are, Evelyn,” said Clare.

  Evelyn smiled proudly. That was a grand compliment to receive from a Lady of distinction.

  Lady Clare went through a whole lot of fabrics, laces, buttons and sashes that were put before her by Maud. Finally, after much debate within her own mind, Lady Clare decided on a green velvet fabric. The pattern she chose was sleeves of green lace and a bodice encrusted with silver beads. The ribbons were going to be in a silver and green mixed satin.

  “Indeed, my Lady, you have chosen well,” said Evelyn as she began to take Clare’s measurements.

  After everything was decided on and measurements given, Lady Clare and Maria left Evelyn’s and headed to the local tea shop. “I am famished,” sighed Lady Clare as they both entered the tea shop.

  All heads turned when they saw Lady Clare enter. She smiled at everyone as the owner of the tea shop, Gillian Boulton, hurried up to them with a welcoming smile.

  “It is indeed an honor, my Lady,” said Gillian as she showed Lady Clare to a table.

  “I would like a pot of tea and some of your delicious croissants, Gillian,” said Lady Clare. Gillian was thrilled as she considered what Lady Clare had said a sure compliment.

  “Yes indeed, my Lady,” said Gillian as she bobbed a curtsy before leaving.

  Clare and Maria were enjoying fresh croissants and hot tea when the tea shop door opened and Lord Michael Havenshire entered with another man, who Lady Clare did not recognize.

  Gillian was over the moon. “This is my lucky day. It was only this morning that the Duchess of Cumberland stopped by, and then Lady Clare and now, Lord Michael,” said Gillian as she hurried to greet Lord Michael.

  Michael looked around the tea shop and his eyes grew large when he caught sight of Lady Clare. “Oliver don’t turn around at once, but to your right sits the woman of my dreams,” whispered Michael.

  Oliver dropped his napkin and then, while bending to retrieve it, he looked to his right and true enough, sitting at the far end was Lady Clare and Maria. “I can see why you are infatuated by her,” said Oliver with a grin.

  “She is very beautiful,” said Michael. “Do you think I should go and speak to her?” asked Michael.

  “I don’t think it is such a good idea, if what the local folks say is to be believed, she is proud,” said Oliver as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

  “Oh, come on, Oliver, give me a break,” said Michael with a grin. “Look, she is enjoying a cup of tea and croissants with her maid,” he concluded.

  “Suit yourself, my friend, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” said Oliver.

  Michael got up from his chair and weaved his way between the other tables, heading toward where Lady Clare sat.

  Maria was the first to see him approaching and she gasped.

  “What is it, Maria, did you choke on a piece of croissant?” asked Lady Clare as she handed Maria a glass of water.

  “No, my Lady, Lord Michael Havenshire is approaching our table,” said Maria.

  “Oh is he?” asked Lady Clare, not daring to turn around, lest Michael think that she was about to welcome him with open arms. She was far from it.

  “Lady Clare Hatherton, what a nice surprise,” said Michael as he looked down at Clare and smiled.

  “I don’t take it as a surprise, but I would say that you are disturbing my peace of mind and the delicious taste of the croissants, which now I have no inclination to continue eating,” said Lady Clare as she looked away from Michael.

  Lord Michael looked around to see whether anyone had heard that biting remark. “I am sorry, indeed I shouldn’t have been forward,” he said as he turned on his heel and walked back to where Oliver was watching him. “Don’t tell me I told you so,” said Michael between clenched teeth.

  Oliver grinned.

  Lady Clare decided that she had remained long enough at the tea shop. Paying her bill, Lady Clare swept out of the tea shop, her head held high and her aristocratic nose ram-rod straight.

  Michael watched her leave and smiled. “She will someday step down from that imaginary pedestal she stands on,” he said.

  Oliver gasped. “She is not a push over, Michael. In fact, she is one of the wealthiest of heiresses in the whole of England,” he said.

  “Maybe, maybe, but to me, she is just another woman,” said Michael as he drained his cup of tea and called for the bill.

  Lord Michael Havenshire had a quest to conquer. However, he would first visit his estranged mother and then, having established his reunion firmly with h
er, he would head for the next challenge.

  4

  CHAPTER FOUR

  REUNIONS

  REUNIONS

  “I gave birth to you, but you didn’t come with instructions. I know that I made mistakes along the way, and for those I am sorry. I pray that you understand that they came from me not knowing and not from lack of love. From the moment you were born my heart was yours. I looked into your eyes and saw all my hopes and dreams come alive in you. I love you more than you will ever know now and for always.”

  ~ Unknown Author

  Lord Michael stood beside his bedroom window in Havenshire Castle, the same one that had been his before he was banished, and he scanned the fields and meadows heavy with crops. He had to see his mother. Would she welcome him? There were many questions that Michael had in mind to ask his mother and he would make sure that she answered every single one. He was anxious to visit his mother soon and the question that burned in his mind was why she did not attend the funeral of his father. After all, she had loved him once, or had she?

  Michael slipped on his coat and pulled it close as he stepped out of his bedroom and hurried down the corridor. The wind that hit him when he walked out into the garden was so cold that Michael cringed as he pulled his coat closer and headed for the stables. He contemplated whether he was to take the carriage or ride his stallion. Finally, he decided on the carriage, as he knew it would be much warmer inside.

  “Hello, Martin. Care to ride out to Bath with me?” asked Michael with a smile.

  “Yes, my Lord, and where shall we be heading?” asked Martin as he bowed low.

  “I wish to visit my mother, who lives in Bath, and I am sure you must know where she is located,” said Michael.

  Martin nodded and headed for the carriage that used to be the late Duke’s and was now used by Michael. Martin set the carriage in motion at a slow speed and Michael sank into the cushioned seats as he thought of what he was going to say to his mother when he met her. The ride wasn’t too long, as Bath was only one and a half hours away from Hampshire, but the roads were so bad that it slowed down the horses.

  Michael had fallen asleep when Martin gently shook him awake. “My Lord,” said Martin softly.

  Michael opened his eyes and squinted at the bright sun, whose rays danced against the glistening carriage. “Have we arrived?” asked Michael.

  “My Lord, that is where Mrs. Hetherstett lives now,” said Martin as he pointed to a house painted white, which stood at the foot of a range of hills.

  Michael gazed at the quaint house, which looked more like a cottage with its picket fence of pure white.

  “Do you want me to take the carriage up to the house, my Lord?” asked Martin.

  Michael shook his head. “No Martin, I think I will walk,” said Michael. He did not want his mother to go into hiding when she saw the familiar carriage draw up opposite her gate.

  Michael stepped out of the carriage and stretched his hands over his head. Sighing, he pulled his coat closer to his chest and, bending his head, walked down the road that led to his mother’s cottage. Suddenly, Michael felt afraid. He wondered whether his mother would banish him from her cottage, just like his father had done to him. Michael continued walking and did not hear the hooves of a horse behind him.

  “Are you going up to our house?” asked the voice of a girl. Michael spun around and saw a girl of about twenty-two sitting upon a stallion. She had striking features and a straight nose. Where had he seen someone just like her?

  “I don’t know, but does this road lead to Mrs. Hetherstett’s?” he asked.

  “That’s right, and that is what I just asked you,” said the girl.

  “Oh, I am sorry, my thoughts were wandering,” said Michael with a smile.

  “Well, don’t let them wander took much, especially if you don’t know where you are heading,” said the girl with a mischievous grin.

  “May I have the pleasure of your name please?” asked Michael with a smile.

  “Jane Hetherstett,” said the girl, and Michael had to steady himself from falling backward.

  He was looking at his half-sister and now he knew why he thought her features were familiar. Jane looked just like his mother, judging from a photograph he had found in his father’s belongings when he had begun sorting them out.

  “And what’s your name?” asked Jane.

  “Mathew,” lied Michael. He did not want to give his real name just in case his mother had told her children about him, although it was highly unlikely that Elizabeth would do so.

  “Mathew,” repeated Jane, and for a moment, Michael thought that she was going to call him a liar. “And why do you come visiting us? Do you know my Mama or Papa?” she asked.

  Michael smiled. “I know your Papa and Mama,” said Michael.

  “Well then, why don’t you follow me? We are not very far from my house and both Mama and Papa are at home. Who would go out in weather like this except me?” grinned Jane and Michael liked her at once, but this time his affection for her was that of a brother. She was a bold girl and her boldness combined well with her beauty.

  Jane carefully guided her stallion up the rocky pathway, while Michael followed close behind.

  Elizabeth and George were at the front door as they watched Jane chatting with a man. “How many times have I told our Jane not to talk to strangers,” said Elizabeth with a sigh.

  “Don’t worry, darling, the fellow following Jane seems to be coming over to our house,” said George as he patted Elizabeth’s shoulder and stepped outside.

  An uneasy feeling zipped through Elizabeth when she looked at the stranger, whose gait she had seen before.

  “Papa, this kind gentleman is here to see you and Mama,” said Jane as she dismounted her stallion and patted its neck.

  “Oh, good day, gentleman, and what can we do for you?” said George as Michael shielded his face from George. Michael decided that hiding from the two people he wanted to see was of no use now that he stood in their garden. Michael took off his hat and turned to look at George.

  The other man gasped and held on to the tree that stood next to him. “Oh, my Lord,” said George, his voice barely a whisper. Elizabeth gasped as she clutched the door frame.

  Jane looked confused as her eyes darted from her mother to her father and then rested on Michael.

  “Would you come in, my Lord?” asked George.

  “Indeed, George, I wondered whether you would recognize me,” said Michael. Michael and George walked toward the house.

  Elizabeth had gone back into the house and stood in her bedroom, her body wracked with sobs. She was seeing her son after a very long time. He should be around twenty-seven now, she thought as she wiped her eyes and looked out at the mist covered hills.

  “Jane, go and call your Mama. Tell her that Lord Michael Havenshire is here,” said George.

  “Yes, Papa,” said Jane as bobbed a curtsy to Michael and rushed into the house in search of her mother. Jane found her mother in her bedroom and she was crying. “Mama, why are you crying?” asked Jane as she put her hands around her mother’s shoulders.

  Elizabeth shook her head and wiped her face.

  “Papa says Lord Michael Havenshire is here and he wants you to come to the living room,” said Jane.

  Elizabeth looked at her daughter and smiled sadly. “You run along, Jane, and tell your Papa that I will be in the living room soon,” said Elizabeth. There was no use hiding from Michael, as Elizabeth had known that someday Michael would come in search of her, wanting answers to his questions. When Duke John had died, Elizabeth knew that before long Michael would come in search of her.

  Elizabeth wiped her face and walked gingerly toward the living room. How she wished her son Jeremy was at home, but he had gone on his usual escapades with his wayward friends. She thought that this was one way in which God had punished her, by giving her a wayward son. Little did she know that Michael was no better, but then he was a Lord and Jeremy was just a country lad wh
o had been lucky and passed his attorney’s exam.

  She stopped outside the living room and took a deep breath before she turned the doorknob and entered.

  “Elizabeth,” said George as he looked from his wife to Michael.

  Elizabeth’s shoulders shook as she began to sob.

  Jane was standing at the living room door, looking puzzled. Why is Mama crying so? thought Jane as she looked at Michael, who had now come to stand before Elizabeth.

  “Mama,” said Michael and Elizabeth threw her arms around Michael.

  Jane gasped and held on to the nearest chair. Who was this man who called her mother Mama?

  5

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CONFESSIONS

  CONFESSIONS

  “They say truth will set you free, but what nobody tells you is that sometimes the truth will also make you miserable.”

  ~ Laura Viera Rigler, Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict

  Elizabeth held Michael for a long time as she sobbed torrents of tears. “Now pull yourself together, Mama,” said Michael, holding Elizabeth away from him and looking at her intently.

  “I am sorry, my son, so sorry,” said Elizabeth as she hiccupped.

  Jane was shocked when she heard her mother call Lord Michael Havenshire son. “What on earth is going on here?” asked Jane as she walked into the living room.

  “Jane, will you be quiet for once. Your mother will explain everything in a while,” said George as he looked sternly at his daughter.

  As the four of them were about to sit down in the living room, they heard the sound of hooves. “That must be Jeremy,” said Jane as she walked to the window and drew the curtain aside. “Indeed it is,” she said.