“And how are you, Abby? Do you feel well?”
“I do, although I am exhausted. I can only imagine how Her Grace must feel. She must want to sleep for a fortnight.”
Terence smiled. “Tomorrow is Sunday, Abby.”
“Yes, Mr Sheridan. Then Monday starts the new week. I daresay the Duke and Duchess will be celebrating the birth of their child with some parties. Then it will be back to London for the season.”
“Yes, but as for tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? Yes? Is there something I can help you with, Mr Sheridan?”
“Yes, or rather, I mean I was, I was … There is the country harvest festival. I wondered, well I ...”
“Has the cat got your tongue, Mr Sheridan?” Abby teased.
He was just about to say it when Phoebe’s bell rang. Abby set her knitting on the chair. “I must go to Her Grace.” And she was gone, her footsteps echoing on the stairs as she climbed them.
Terence turned into the butlery and went to his room.
Epilogue
Three weeks later, the Atwaters made the trip back to London. The season was about to begin with a ball at Hudson House in honour of the birth of the little heir to the Dukedom of Atwater.
“Mary, la, the country agrees so well with you. You look lovely, my dear.”
Phoebe sat in her old sitting room on Wimpole Street. It now belonged to Mary. Mrs Crabtree had the baby at Regent Street, telling Phoebe that she needed to get out and socialize and get fresh air. She looked positively ravishing. “You and Tom are coming for whist tomorrow, are you not?”
“Of course. We wouldn’t miss it. You know how my husband is about cards. Almost as fanatic as you, I must say.” The two friends laughed.
Motherhood certainly agrees with you, dear Phoebe. You look more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you look. And I’ve seen you under many different lights on many different occasions.”
“Why thank you, Mary. It’s having the baby that did it. La! I feel sixteen again. As young and pretty as I was when I went away to boarding school in Paris.”
“I certainly hope something similar happens to me when my little one comes.” She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.
“What did you say, Mary?”
“Oh nothing. Just that I hope motherhood would take to me so kindly.”
“That is not what you said. Come now, Mary. This is Phoebe. Surely you realize I know you better than anyone. What did you say?”
Mary blushed and looked down quickly.
“Mary! Are you going to have a baby?”
Mary met Phoebe’s probing eyes. “Yes, Your Grace. I am. My little one had decided to accompany me to the London social season.”
“La! How grand. Now our little ones will grow up together. Oh, how wonderful.”
“I … I didn’t want to come in between you and your happiness, Phoebe. I was going to wait a few months before telling you.
“La! That is nonsense, Phoebe. Hearing your wonderful news only adds to my happiness. When does your bundle arrive?”
“Sometime in early April, I believe. Now, I have a question for you.”
“I have maternity frocks; of course you may borrow them.”
“No, I, I’m having some made. What I want to ask you is … well, I know your labour was long, but was it terrible? I mean, did you pray for death?”
Phoebe giggled. “No. I didn’t pray for death. Mary, for shame! The labour was long, but the pain was never excruciating. And for that I have Mrs Crabtree to thank. My hips are narrow. She’d given me herbs to facilitate the birthing. And you’ve seen how quickly I’ve recovered.”
“I know. And look I was just wondering if I might talk with Mrs Crabtree. I won’t take her away from her work, I promise.”
“It will be fine. I’m not worried about that. I shall ring for her now.”
Mrs Crabtree came to the door of the kitchen.
“Yes, Your Grace? Little Thomas is sound asleep. Hello, Lady Mary. Are the two of you ready for dinner?”
“We are, but I want to ask you something first.”
“Yes, Your Grace?”
“Will you have a consult with Lady Mary? She needs potions and infusions much as I did.”
“Very well, Your Grace.” Mrs Crabtree turned to head back out of the sitting room and return to the nursery. She’d moved her bedroom upstairs until such time as a proper nanny became employed. Suddenly she stopped in her tracks. She looked back over her shoulders at these two women she loved as if they were her own daughters.
“Did you say potions and infusions such as I made for you, Your Grace?”
“That is exactly what I said, Mrs Crabtree.” Phoebe smiled and placed her arm around her friend. “Lady Mary is to have a baby.”
*******
It was late. The Radcliffes had stayed to supper, and they’d all enjoyed a few rounds of whist before calling an end to the evening.
Atwater had played toastmaster and had made toasts to everyone, staff included. It had been a joyous celebration, and everyone had left the festive event with full stomachs and smiling faces.
Atwater and Phoebe walked, arm and arm, upstairs to their chambers. First they stopped in the nursery to see their child. They stood, silently, watching the little one as he slept. They sent out their silent thanks to God and their silent blessings to their child.
In just a little over a month, a new year would be upon them. A year which promised more contentment and happiness. They marvelled at the fleet footed quality of time and wanted to preserve the feeling of this moment.
“I will come to you tonight, my darling, if you are up to it. I wish only to hold you in my arms.”
“I can think of no other way I’d prefer to sleep this night but wrapped up against you in sweet slumber, love.”
They gazed deep into each other’s eyes then. Eyes filled with promises of more tender and intimate moments such as this one. They both leaned down and kissed their baby, then quietly left the room.
Atwater walked Phoebe to her chambers. They entered and walked to the door of the corridor that separated Atwater’s room from hers. Soon, Abby would come to help her mistress prepare for bed.
“I shall come back in thirty minutes, Your Grace.”
Phoebe stood on her toes and kissed her husband sweetly. “No, my love, do not go.” She kissed him again with a sweet hunger that lit a fire within him. He picked her up and carried her to the bed.
“I’m not going anywhere, my love.”
THE END
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(After reading the Extended Epilogue, turn the page to read the first chapters from “For the Love of a Duchess”, my Amazon Best-Selling novel!)
For the Love of a Duchess
Introduction
Lady Eliza Ashton, daughter of the Earl of Bexley, had always thought her life would be a straight pathway to happiness.
Engaged to be married to the devastatingly handsome Miles Gainsborough, Eliza could never have imagined how easily happiness could turn into disaster. When her father tells her that she is the only hope of saving the family from financial ruin, she finds herself set to marry the Duke of Lytton instead.
Daniel Winchester, an accomplished and successful attorney, finds his simple existence at Lytton Hall turned upside down by the arrival of the Duke’s new young bride. Determined to think her a young title-hunter, he is surprised to find himself drawn to her as every day passes. When the old Duke, his ego bruised by the realization that the beautiful young woman will never love him, becomes increasingly aggressive, Daniel is the only man with courage enough to defend her.
But when the old Duke dies, will Eliza allow the threat of scandal and the fear of condemnation to turn her away from the only man she has ever truly loved? And will Daniel Winchester ever find a pa
thway leading to the heart of the young woman who occupies his every thought?
Chapter 1
“But why are you telling me this, Papa? What can I possibly do to aid the fortunes of Bexley Hall?” Lady Eliza Ashton studied her father closely.
Martin Ashton, the Earl of Bexley, was clearly uncomfortable. Eliza could not remember ever seeing him so before, and it was most unsettling. It seemed to Eliza that her father could only meet her eye every so often before looking away again.
There was something there she could hardly recognize, and she wondered if it was something he was ashamed of. Whatever it was, it was making her feel even more nervous.
To be told that Bexley Hall, her father’s fine estate, had been ailing for years was no real surprise to her. She had heard both her parents speak aloud their worries on the subject many times over the nineteen years of her life.
But she had never truly realized the extent of the worries her parents had, more often than not, they tried to contain as best they could. She realized now that all she had heard in the preceding years was just the tip of a very large iceberg, one that had suddenly grown out of all proportion.
“At a time like this, all members of a family must pull together, Eliza, must they not?” He looked into her brown eyes and hurriedly away again.
When she had first been ushered into the Earl’s study for a private conversation with her father, Eliza had certainly been taken aback. The household at Bexley Hall was comfortable in that it was relaxed, and anything her father had to say to her before then had simply taken place during tea or breakfast or any number of moments in the day when the family were together.
Nothing so formal as being asked by the butler, Eames, to attend her father in his study had ever happened before, and her senses were already heightened before she entered the dark, austere little room.
“Indeed, Papa. But we are the only ones here. Mama is not here, and Henry is not here.” Eliza began to feel suspicious, and the physical sensation that accompanied her disquiet seemed to grow.
“We all must do what we can.” Her father looked away again, staring at some point on the deep oak skirting board over by the door.
“And what is my part in this, Papa? For it is clear to me that I must have one.”
“My dear Eliza, perhaps you have the greatest part to play of all of us.” He smiled at her hopefully as if willing her to be proud that she could somehow make a difference.
This time, Eliza was the one to look away. She could not bear for her father to see her fear or worse, her unwillingness even before she knew what it was he wanted of her.
“What is it, Papa? I would rather you came straight to the point because you are making me afraid with your tiptoeing.” She continued to look down, studying the tiny green flowers which had been carefully embroidered onto her ivory gown.
“My dear Eliza, our financial straits are now worse than they have ever been. The estate is losing money by the day, and I have no means by which to pay back the loans I have been forced to take to keep life here at Bexley Hall going.” He paused and sighed, and she realized he saw this as a personal failing.
“But as you told it to me, you were bequeathed an estate that was already ailing for years before it was yours. You ought not to look so responsible for it all, Papa,” she said kindly.
Despite her own fears, Eliza Ashton loved her father dearly and could not bear to see him suffering.
“Yes, but I have never been able to find a way to rescue it, and that was my responsibility.”
“So, what are we to do now? Is it so very bad?” Eliza already knew the answer to her question.
“We are on the verge of losing the estate. Everything. And with no estate, I am sure the title will be useless, perhaps even bestowed upon another family altogether.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Eliza said breathlessly. “I had never imagined it was so far gone. But what shall we do then? Where shall we go?”
“I have no idea. There is nothing left of my personal inheritance, and any money your mother brought into the estate when we married is long gone. We would have to find somewhere to rent, but where and with what I cannot imagine. I will need to find some sort of occupation, employment. But again, I have no trade, obviously, and no clerical skills.”
The Earl looked utterly crestfallen, and Eliza felt her insides suddenly cold and taut at the idea of her father, a man who was not in his first flush of youth, having to seek traditional employment in a world that was not his and never had been.
“Then we are doomed, are we not? There is nothing we can do.” Eliza thought suddenly of her engagement to Miles Gainsborough and felt a guilt-ridden stab of relief.
Whatever the fortunes of her family, she was due to be married to the son of a Baron. Perhaps all was not lost, and yet she could not see how it would be possible for Lord Gainsborough to help the rest of her family.
“We have but one course of action available to us, Eliza.” Her father spoke in a voice that sounded almost unrecognizable to her, and she realized that he was not yet finished; there was worse to come.
“And what is that?” she asked with trepidation.
“I have received an offer of urgent financial assistance from the Duke of Lytton,” he said and seemed to study his daughter for her reaction to the news.
“But if you cannot pay the loans you already have, forgive me, but what good is another?” Eliza had never discussed matters of business with her father before.
She was an intelligent young woman for whom common sense was no stranger, so she did not find the concepts in any way difficult.
But the conversation was, and she felt that her father’s revelations to her specifically had somehow changed everything; she could almost feel the old, solid ground begin to shift beneath her feet.
“This would not be a loan,” he began quietly. “And it would be enough money to raise us all up from this dreadful uncertainty and keep the Earldom and estate in the Ashton family for generations to come. It would see off all our loans and return Bexley to a former glory I cannot remember seeing since I was a child myself.”
“Why would the Duke of Lytton do such a thing? After all, you are not a very close friend of his, Papa.”
“No, I cannot claim to be a close friend, but I am reasonably well acquainted with the man.”
“But being reasonably well acquainted does not secure the sort of money you need, Papa. And for it to be a gift and not a loan? There is more to this, I am sure.”
As she studied her father’s face, Eliza was sure that he was greyer and gaunter than she had ever seen him. He truly looked like a man whose cares were wearing him down, but it was the guilt in his eyes she was finding the hardest of all to witness.
“There is more to this, I am afraid.”
“Which has much to do with me if this meeting here is anything to go by.”
“My dear, the Duke has made me a very specific offer.” Before he had even finished his sentence, Eliza knew exactly what that offer was.
In fact, if she was honest with herself, she had already known the only sort of assistance a daughter could provide her family with from the moment it had been mentioned.
Falling for the Heartbroken Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 30