Falling for the Heartbroken Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  “A woman. Are you sure, Dan?”

  “As sure as I know it’s you I’m speaking to, Your Grace.”

  “That is curious Dan. Quite curious. But it would explain the whispery voice of the one called Tully. Hmm.”

  “I’m of the mind that we should get back to travel, Your Grace. Who knows but they might come back.”

  “I don’t think they’ll be back. Not with the way they ran from us. I suppose I don’t think it so curious that one of them was a woman, after all. Men would never abandon a plan by running away. A woman, on the other hand, could be taken over by her fear. Although, she didn’t seem too taken over by fear when she had that pistol pressed against my spine.” Atwater laughed. “But you’re right, Dan. We should move on.

  Phoebe and Mary thought the entire episode was a fascinating adventure. And they went on about it for the next hour until the excitement began to wear off and they fell asleep.

  Atwater and Lord Thomas kept quiet so as not to disturb them, and when the carriage arrived at Wimpole Street, they gently shook the ladies awake.

  They helped the women into the house and made their way to Phoebe’s bedchamber. Then they set up in the library gazing into the fire Dan had built up and drinking sherry.

  They knew when Carlisle awoke he would come looking for them. Atwater wondered if they should take the women over to Regent Street but then thought better of it. He was going to have to face Carlisle again at some point. There was no use in attempting to put it off.

  Tom fell asleep after one glass of sherry. Atwater reached inside his waistcoat and extracted a small muff pistol. He set his chair squarely facing the door of the room and cocked the weapon.

  Chapter 6

  Lady Phoebe and Lady Mary were too exhausted to sleep any more. The emotional upheaval of the previous days had taken its toll.

  Phoebe sat in a cozy chair wrapped in a shawl, and Mary reclined on the chaise with a blanket in front of a small fire. They were thankful it was summer. A trip like they’d just experienced would have been ghastly had it been winter. But still, they felt cold and tired.

  Mary yawned. “His Grace was so brave tonight, My Lady.” Hearing no answer, she looked over at her mistress. Phoebe had tears in her eyes. “My Lady! What’s wrong? Carlisle won’t be here for hours. And Lord Tom and the Duke will handle him. Why are you crying?”

  Phoebe sighed. “Oh Mary, I’m so confused. Lady Judith is my friend, and I know she has designs on the Duke. But she hated him. Now, what am I to do?”

  Mary sat up. “I feel quite sure the Duke doesn’t return Lady Judith’s sentiments, My Lady.”

  “You do? Oh, it doesn’t matter. I never imagined my life would take a turn such as this,” Phoebe continued. “I always thought I’d be married, maybe even with a child, by this point in my life. And now I’m doomed to spend the rest of my days away from everyone and everything I love.” Her tears spilled over.

  “My Lady, you do not have to go to Scotland with Duke Carlisle.”

  “But what’s to become of me if I don’t? What’s to become of you? And Mr Harris and Mrs Crabtree? What will they do? I’ve made a mess of everything. I was so selfish going to France for two years. I thought I’d fall in love with an intriguing Frenchman.”

  “Oh, My Lady. Please don’t talk that way. Another opportunity will present itself. You’re just tired and over emotional.”

  “Do you really think that’s true, Mary? I don’t think my prospects are very good. It wouldn’t matter if Prince George himself were to court me, I … I,” she burst into tears, “I will never have the man I love.”

  “There now, My Lady. What’s wrong? You can tell me. It’s Mary, remember?”

  “I have no right to cry. I have somewhere to go. Look at poor Lady Judith, in a similar state to mine. And then with the scandal Atwater has caused her. My heart should go out to her.”

  “Save your heart, My Lady. The Duke did not cause Lady Judith’s problems.”

  “His chivalry of last night was moving. But, you must remember he broke his betrothal to Lady Judith. She’s nearly ruined.”

  “I don’t believe Duke Atwater did anything of the sort.”

  “You mean to say you, you don’t believe Lady Judith’s story?”

  “No, My Lady. I do not.”

  “But why?”

  “Do you remember, My Lady, when Lady Anne Browning was betrothed to the Marquess Crauford?”

  “Mary, we were little girls.”

  “I was young, yes, but I still had ears and eyes.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “The Marquess Crauford broke the engagement with Lady Anne.”

  “What? No! How did you come by that information? I never heard anything about it.”

  “My point, My Lady. Most heard nothing about it. Earl Browning packed Lady Anne off on a tour of Europe. Five years later, she married a Spanish gentleman in Barcelona.”

  “So the Earl hid the news. Why? Why protect the Duke that way?”

  “It wasn’t to protect the Duke, My Lady. It was to protect Lady Anne. Her reputation was essentially ruined by being cast aside. The few gossips who found out were paid off by the Earl to keep quiet about it. He didn’t want the ton thinking his daughter was, somehow, inadequate. Of course, the Duke’s reputation was in question for a few weeks until the next juicy bit of gossip came up.”

  “So the point here is that the broken betrothal was kept secret to spare those involved.”

  “Exactly My Lady. But Lady Judith has told everyone and anyone who has ears about how she’s been mistreated by Duke Atwater. The busybodies have been so distracted with a good story they haven’t thought to think how odd it is that a woman would tell such personal news as if she were the town crier.”

  Phoebe gasped. “Of course. Now I understand why you distrust Lady Judith.”

  “Pardon my being blunt, My Lady, but I not only distrust her, I don’t like her. She is up to something. I haven’t figured it out yet, but I know she’s scheming ... something.”

  “You don’t think she’s in love with Atwater?”

  “If she is in love with him, why does she make his life miserable? Is that love, My Lady? Any woman would be hurt and angry to be put in a situation like the one she has stated she’s in. But have you ever known a lady, a real lady, to announce her sad predicament? Lady Judith is and has been, I’m sorry to say, not acting like the lady she purports to be.”

  “Mary, you have a strong argument. Do you believe His Grace, Atwater, left Lady Judith?”

  “No, My Lady.”

  Phoebe fell back into the chair. Her tears started again.

  “What is it My Lady?”

  “I’ve been terrible to him, Mary. He must hate me. And Tom is angry with me as well. Our little dinner with Carlisle was hellish. The gentlemen barely spoke to me. I haven’t indulged in the gossip, but I have believed Lady Judith. How could I have been so foolish?”

  “You haven’t been foolish, My Lady. You’ve been a caring friend to the lady. And it’s interesting to me that you haven’t seen her since the day of the funeral.”

  Phoebe looked down. Her shoulder shook with sobs. “And she barely acknowledged me that day. I thought it might be her grief, but, Mary?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s no use.”

  “What is no use, My Lady.”

  “Telling you what I’m about to tell you. It only adds to the mess.”

  “Tell me anyway. It’s just you and I in this room.”

  “It’s about Duke Atwater.”

  “What about him, My Lady?”

  “I think … I …” She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I think I’m in love with him.”

  *******

  By the next afternoon, it was apparent to Lord Thomas and Atwater that Carlisle wouldn’t be coming to London anytime soon. At the very least, he would have sent one of his men to enquire about the whereabouts of Lady Phoebe. They felt it safe to leave Wimpole Street a
nd go their separate ways.

  They were in the foyer, getting ready to leave, when Mary came running from the back of the house. “Your Grace, may I speak with you?” Her words were for Atwater, but her eyes sought Lord Thomas.

  “Yes, Mary, what is it? Is Lady Phoebe in need of something?”

  “No Your Grace. I mean, yes.” Now that the moment was upon her, Mary’s nerve was failing her. She looked down and composed herself. “Lady Phoebe wishes to thank you, Your Grace.” She curtsied, glanced again at Lord Thomas, and then hurried back to where she’d come from.

  Atwater looked at Lord Thomas who was shaking his head. “Women,” was all Tom said.

  *******

  “I want you to shop with me. I must pick out my trousseau. I can think of no one I’d rather have with me than you.”

  Mary poured lemonade for her mistress and Lady Judith.

  Phoebe thought that there was no one else for Judith to turn to. The ton had begun to question the idea that, not only had Lady Judith made public the story that Atwater had forsaken her, but she’d kept the rumours and gossip alive by bringing the situation up at every party, every visit, and every luncheon she attended. Even the gossips were tired of gossiping about it. Now they questioned why the lady would not let the whole thing go.

  “I haven’t been feeling my best, Lady Judith. I don’t feel able.” Phoebe tried again to beg off. She didn’t want to spend any more time with Lady Judith than she absolutely had to. But there was etiquette to be followed. Lady Judith was the daughter of an Earl. Lady Phoebe would only make herself look bad if she were to cut Judith that way.

  “Please? It would mean so much to me.” Judith smiled.

  “When shall we go?”

  “Let us go now, why not?”

  “Mary?”

  “Yes, My Lady, I will take care of everything here. Go along and have a nice time.”

  “Thank you.” Phoebe smiled at Mary. “I’ll be back in a moment. I need my gloves. They’re in my room.” Phoebe left the sitting room to go to the main bedchamber.

  Lady Judith turned and addressed the maid. “Mary.”

  “Yes, Lady Judith?”

  “My cloak.”

  “Yes, My Lady. Forgive me.” Mary picked the cloak up from the chair it rested on and brought it to Judith.

  “You’re not going to help me with it?” Judith looked at Mary with an astonished countenance.

  “Beg pardon, My Lady.” Mary kept her eyes down.

  Lady Phoebe breezed back into the room. “I have everything. Are you ready Judith?”

  “I am. This will be delightful.” She looped her arm through Phoebe’s, and the two of them made their way downstairs and outside to the waiting carriage.

  *******

  “I tell you I’m not ready Tom. You are the last person I would imagine to put me in this position. I’m not ready.”

  “Are you not ready, or is Judith the wrong woman for you?”

  “Of course she’s the wrong woman. She’s made my life over-complicated at best. Bad enough I’ve lost my father and brother, but she still will not stop telling people about how I’ve forsaken her. I’m expected to take care of her now and marry her to be absolved from something I didn’t do? I ask you, Tom if you were in her predicament, would you want to marry the person who betrayed you?”

  “Maybe she’s thinking of survival. She has no options, really. Unless she waits until an heir is located for her father’s fortune and tries to blackmail him into marrying her.”

  “So you do think it’s blackmail?”

  “Yes, of a sort. I don’t understand her game. It’s most unlike Judith.”

  “I agree. It’s one of the most curious situations I’ve ever encountered.”

  “But you could rectify your reputation by making her your wife.”

  “Tom, do you really think I care about my reputation? Especially at this point? It would rectify nothing if I made Judith my wife. Why should I marry her because people think I treated her disrespectfully? I did not. And you would think the ton might wonder why she would marry me after what I am supposed to have done.”

  “Too many considerations, Robert.”

  “I should move to Hempstead permanently and become a hermit. I won’t let those people and their avarice for gossip control me.”

  “What about an heir?”

  “What about one? I’m twenty-eight. My brother was near to thirty-one when he died.” The volume of Atwater’s voice crept up until he was almost yelling.

  “Robert, I’m working as the devil’s advocate here. You know I’m with you, whatever you decide. I will always stand by you.”

  Atwater calmed down. “I don’t know what to make of it. But I will tell you this ... I don’t trust Judith. My own cousin, and I don’t trust her. I could never marry her. Not now. The man I was, the man who loved her, is gone. And it seems the woman I once desired to marry is gone also.”

  “Fair enough. You do need to relieve your mind of all the balderdash. Let’s go to Brooks’s. That will get your mind off the unsavoury events of late. We’ll go the back way through the mews. That way we won’t accidentally run into Lady Judith, being her townhouse is near there.”

  The men boarded the black carriage with no crest, and Dan drove the back way to St James and the club.

  Chapter 7

  Phoebe and Judith exited the dressmaker on Cavendish Square. Judith’s footman placed the packages on the floor of the barouche. The streets were crowded, as were the shops. Phoebe was exhausted from sitting at the linen draper for two hours, then another one at the haberdasher’s.

  Judith had managed to buy every type of lace, ribbon, and feather she could find. She’d purchased ten hand-painted fans from Japan of all places. A multitude of chemises, twelve pairs of silk stockings, six pairs of cotton stockings, five sets of garters and five new sets of stays and several shawls, were all packaged and bundled into the barouche.

  Seemingly on a divine mission, Judith then decided to visit her favourite dressmaker. That had taken another three hours and had culminated in the orders of a pelisse, and a variety of morning frocks, visiting frocks, promenade frocks, and three opulent dinner gowns.

  Finally, the two women were to head for their respective townhouses. A shopping excursion that generally would have taken three hours at most, promised to keep the women from their homes until after six o’clock in the evening.

  Judith was inside the barouche, and the footman was about to assist Phoebe when a black carriage came clattering around the corner almost colliding with the stationary carriage. Phoebe looked up just in time to see Atwater passing. He was looking out the window, and their eyes met for a frozen moment.

  Phoebe thought the glimpse of him to be not unlike the day she’d seen him on the bridge from London. Only this time, everything was very fast.