Once Upon a Duke

by Sandra Masters

  “True, an apt description, Lady Serena. I am charged with its protection to keep France off our shores. My French ancestors were loyal to the English court, as am I. Should you have an interest in my lineage, we have a vast library.”

  “I am impressed,” she answered with cunning.

  How would she ever escape?

  He gazed at her.

  Was that a flash of admiration she saw? If so, it fleeted.

  She carried her Bible in her clenched hands and followed him up the stone steps to a massive double door. They entered and he removed his hat, gloves and cane.

  A thin woman wrapped in a shawl stood in the foyer. He greeted her with inane politeness. “Mother, this is Lady Serena, my future wife—your soon-to-be daughter-in-law.”

  He introduced his sister. “This is Lady Josephine whose quarters are next to yours.” Lord LeBran pointed to Emma. “The other woman is the maid.”

  His mother’s tall stature suited the unadorned grey wool dress she wore with long sleeves and high collar.

  Serena curtsied and spoke in soft measured words, “We have not stopped along the way. It was a lengthy ride and I have a need to use my chambers. Is that possible, Madame LeBran?”

  She looked to her son. “Such a long trip and you did not oblige? Josephine will show you to your rooms. You can attend your needs there. Perhaps we can meet in a half hour. My name is Madame Yolanda. I welcome you. We were surprised when my son spoke to us about his impending marriage. I will try to see you are comfortable here, but we do have certain rules with which I will acquaint you.”

  “You are too kind.” Serena stifled a breath. Could not the angel of mercy give her death at this moment?

  “Follow me,” Josephine spoke to Serena and her maid. “We are on the top floor. It is private.”

  Where no one will ever find her.

  With all the parapets of the fortress, she might find one she could throw herself off to drown in the cold waters of a relentless sea. The surroundings were as frigid as the man who now claimed her.

  “My brother’s apartments are in the other wing.”

  Josephine had a sad twist to her mouth, for a house that appeared to have no smiling women.

  She opened the only entrance door to a three-room suite. Serena entered. The first room was a sitting room. It looked large but sparse, like Lord LeBran. It led to a bedroom, presumably hers.

  “I’ll leave you here and have your belongings sent up. Your maid will be in the adjoining room beyond yours, through this doorway.” Josephine pointed. “Can you find your way down to the main hall or shall I come for you?”

  “I believe I can find my way. Thank you.” Serena answered in a resigned manner.

  “May I call you Serena?” the slight woman asked. “It is a beautiful name. It will be nice to have someone nearer my age to talk to. I hope we can be friends. Life here can be cold and harsh. If you need a shawl, I can bring mine to you.”

  “Josephine, thank you. I will let you know.” Serena untied her cape. “Please, could you direct me to a chamber pot?”

  The young woman pointed to a dressing screen behind which sat the necessary. “It’s there. I’ll leave you now.”

  The young woman left, Serena rushed to Emma, and they hugged each other in desperation.

  “What are we to do, mistress? This is such a lifeless, harsh-looking place.”

  “I know, Emma. It is more like a dungeon than a fortress. I feel like a prisoner.” Her eyes pooled.

  A knock on the door sounded and they separated. “Enter,” she answered, brushing away the tears.

  A footman brought in the small trunk and cloth travel bag and placed them at Serena’s feet, then left without a word.

  She moved to the screen.

  “I’ll take my bag to my room, mistress, and do the same.”

  Once their immediate problem had been relieved, the women stood again in Serena’s sitting room.

  She sighed as she removed her heavy cape and felt the chill.

  “Sir Henry did tell me the climate would be much cooler than we’re used to. There is not much to unpack. I can’t believe how his mother is dressed in such a somber color. Do you wish to change to the one dress you brought? Will that do?”

  “No, what I have on will suffice.” Serena rubbed her fingers against her chin. “I need to devise a new plan, Emma. We will stay here only as long as it takes to find a way to leave. As you go about your tasks, take note of the rooms and especially the exits. I will do the same.”

  “Yes, mistress.” Emma started unpacking what little they had brought. She combed Serena’s hair back and secured it with barrettes.

  “Emma, find out what the routine is for meals. Thank goodness you thought to bring some biscuits.”

  “Mistress, don’t worry about me. I will do as I am told and will report it all back to you. They will think me a docile servant in all things.” Emma went to her mistress’s small cosmetics container and opened it. A few items were not in the proper order. “Someone has been through your things.”

  Serena rushed to her maid. “You are sure?” her hand trembled.

  “Yes, the salves for your back are at the bottom. I always pack them on the top with great care. And your portfolio is on the very top.”

  “I can surmise they were searched before delivery to our rooms. Has yours been searched?”

  Emma ran to her satchel, opened it, and pinched her lips. “Yes, mistress.”

  Serena gave an exasperated nod. “It is a sad circumstance.” She hung her only other dress in the wardrobe and slammed the armoire door. The brute would not get the best of her. She straightened her back, went through the portal to the hallway and closed the heavy door behind her. The steps down to the hall did not seem as many as the steps up. Anger fortified her.

  Serena entered the main hall where LeBran’s mother waited.

  “Please, be seated near the fire,” the woman motioned to a wing chair. “I saw you arrive with your Bible. Are you a good Christian woman?” His mother stared at her.

  “I believe in God and the commandments,” Serena replied.

  “You brought little with you, dear.”

  “We did not have sufficient time to properly pack our clothes and other supplies. They are to be sent to us at a later time.”

  “What do you mean by other supplies?” the older woman inquired.

  “I am an artist, Madame. I brought a sketchpad and charcoal pencils. At some point, I would ask for my paints and canvases to be sent. It helps occupy the time. I do not embroider well enough.”

  “I will talk to my son at the appropriate time about your artist’s tools. It is an unusual pursuit for a woman.” The expression on Madame Yolanda’s face changed when her forehead creased in concern. “What will you paint?”

  “I am not sure. Perhaps the seagulls? Or the ocean? Or the fortress? Maybe the schooners? Would you like to have a portrait of Josephine?”

  “That would be acceptable. Could you also paint Leland?”

  Serena’s breath faltered. “I do not know if I could do him the justice he deserves.” There wasn’t enough black oil in the world to paint her monster of a son. “However, after I have completed Josephine’s portrait, I will try, Madame Yolanda.”

  “Due to my religious convictions, I cannot abide lewdness.”

  “Perish the thought. Neither can I,” she answered in an appropriate manner.

  She did not think LeBran’s mother would appreciate her sketches of Geoffrey’s male parts. A sly smile crossed her face at the wonderful thought.

  “I should like to see your work,” Madame Yolanda’s tone quickened.

  “I would be happy to show you when my other sketchbooks and supplies arrive.”

  His mother informed her of the household routine and times for meals.

  “Your maid will eat with the other servants and will be allowed to go to the market as necessary chaperoned by our cook.” Madame Yolanda stared at Serena. “You may not leave the
keep without Leland’s permission, but feel free to use the chapel as you wish.”

  “Madame Yolanda, your son has informed me he has a vast library. I do like to read about other countries, and in particular, about France. May I borrow some books? I would show you my selection before I read.”

  “I see no reason you cannot further educate yourself.” His mother smiled.

  “Madame, how do I address you? I would not wish to offend.” Serena wanted to appear submissive, but inside dwelled an angry woman. She would not marry that ogre.

  “Madame Yolanda will suffice. I appreciate your courteous inquiry.” His mother’s imperial tone cautioned, “If you would like to rest before dinner, you are excused.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that Emma has a room to herself in my suite. Shall I send her down to the kitchen quarters, wherever they are?”

  “I will have Josephine introduce her later to the staff.”

  Serena curtsied and took to the stairs in silence. She entered her rooms and found Emma waiting.

  Emma saw the look on her mistress’s face. “Is it that bad?”

  “His mother is as stern as her son. I have been informed…” She told her maid about their conversation. “I will have free use of the library. There might be drawings of this fortress. Keep your eye out for guards and their placement as you get acquainted with the staff. Pretend you are glad to be here.”

  She placed her hands on Emma’s shoulders. “Courage, my dear friend. I will find a way out no matter what I have to do.” Serena tasted fear; it sucked at her like the bite of a fiery monster, despite her brave words.

  Josephine spoke from the hallway. “Serena, may I enter?”

  “Yes, you may.”

  “I’ve come to fetch Emma and show her around,” Josephine informed her.

  “Go with Josephine. Emma, follow her in all things.”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  “Josephine, can you tell me where to find the chapel?” She reached for her Bible.

  “It is opposite the main hall.”

  “Josephine, may I accept your offer of a shawl? There is a chill in the air here.”

  “Yes, Serena. I’ll get it for you now.” She turned and left, returning with a dark shawl, and handed it to her.

  “Come, Emma. I will take you downstairs to the kitchens.”

  Emma followed without comment.

  Alone with her thoughts at last, Serena went to the window niche and watched the ships in the bay. Somehow she had to get in touch with Geoffrey. She dared not write anything down as yet and would have to use Emma in some way, yet did not want to endanger her maid.

  Could she be doomed to this cold environment? She would never forgive Henry’s betrayal.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Serena took her Bible and closed the door behind her. She found her way to the chapel, which seemed warmer. The light shining through the stained glass windows cast a colorful aura. Each window showed a date. One in particular dated back to the fourteenth century.

  There were prayer chairs as well as pews. Serena knelt at the chair and clasped her hands. She opened her King James Bible to a favorite. Psalm 23:1-6. She read.

  The LORD is my Shepherd. I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for Thou are with me…

  A door opened behind her. She turned. Lord LeBran was walking toward her, his gait menacing. He paused beside her. The light through the stained glass window seemed to dim. Could this man be the devil’s disciple?

  “It is good you seek guidance, but why do you pray so hard? Do you have that many sins?”

  “I pray for salvation, my lord. We are all sinners. Evil resides in us like a plague.”

  Damn this wretched man.

  She argued in a soft voice. “Do you consider yourself a moral man?”

  “Yes.” He loomed over her.

  “Let me leave here. I do not wish to marry you.” She held his gaze. Hatred dwelt behind his eyes. “I see the revulsion on your face. You loathe me.”

  “You are everything I am not,” he hissed, and pointed his thin boney finger in accusation at her. “Your brother and I have larger-than-life plans to control the House of Lords. In order to do that, we have to form alliances. Some have to be bought. That requires money. You have a vast sum and I do not. We wish to change the future direction in England. In short, Serena, as I have said before, you are a means to an end. I will tolerate you if I must.”

  “Then I shall pray for you, too.” She turned from his sinister face.

  “I do not need a harlot to pray for me. I know all about you and how you tempt men with your wicked ways. Your brother informed me of everything. You must have provoked your husband. You deserved the ugly scars.” His words boomed.

  “Please do not shout. We are in God’s house. I am not a harlot, but even if it were true, Jesus forgave Mary Magdalene and took her into His flock. He demonstrated compassion and mercy, believed in forgiveness.” His unyielding expression terrified her.

  “I am a French Huguenot. My family settled here in the sixteenth century. We endured many persecutions. The English branch summoned my ancestors to assist in this fortress’s settlement. You are an abomination to me and all I believe in.” His rant continued. “Yet I am obliged to give you my proud family name.”

  “In exchange for my inheritance,” she reminded him. “We can remedy this if you so choose. If you are so moral, set me free. I will pay you a significant sum.”

  “It is a temptation, but as a man with principles, I made a bargain with your brother and I will keep it, rest assured. Do not attempt to leave this keep without my permission. All exits are locked. There are eyes on you wherever you go. Remember that. Continue with your prayers, you will need them.” He left the chapel.

  It was now a moral imperative for her to escape this man’s clutches. Serena lowered her head to her folded hands. “Lord, please help me. I am a good woman with a sad history. I can bend but I must not break.” She gazed at the stain glass window depicting a man struggling against a torrential sea.

  She feared she was at the breaking point.

  At the supper hour, Serena appeared in the main hall dining room. Madame Yolanda motioned for her to sit near Josephine. Lord LeBran sat at the head of the table. She held no appetite for the plain simple fare, and picked at her food. She noted Lord LeBran drank ale while the women were served water.

  His mother asked, “Are you not hungry, Serena? You do not eat. Is the beef not to your liking?”

  “Everything is fine, Madame. I am fatigued by the long ride and if I may be excused, I will pick a book from the library and retire.”

  Madame Yolanda asked, “Is it permissible, Leland?”

  He nodded.

  “Good night to all,” Serena spoke in a whisper.

  “I’m finished eating, Serena,” Josephine said. “Let me show you the library and how it is catalogued.” She turned and kissed her mother on the cheek. “Good night.” She nodded to her brother.

  Serena’s smile held no emotion, and they left the room together.

  “We are dominated by him, Serena. It is best not to resist. My mother and I have learned the lesson,” she whispered, yet looked over her shoulder.

  “Josephine, you seem like a kind person. How old are you?” Serena asked.

  “Five and twenty years.”

  “Are there no entertainments here where you can socialize?” She shivered; her hands shook.

  “This is our way of life, day in and day out. On rare occasions, we do go to London for a short stay at a hotel while Leland attends to politics. He allows us a small allowance for new clothing, but we know fripperies are not suitable here in this harsh climate.”

  “Have you no suitors?” Serena questioned this horrific lifestyle.

  “I
do not have a suitable dowry. My brother will seek a husband for me one day. He has indicated he does not want to continue to support me. Our staff is small here so we make do as we can. There is nothing else for me to do but wait.”

  They entered the library where Josephine showed Serena the catalogue system. “If you want to take a book, you sign out the card and place it here in this box. When you return it, you put the card back in the file. Leland says it is important to do this because the volumes are centuries old and irreplaceable. Sometimes, he makes them available to esteemed friends.”

  Josephine sighed. “Even in your black dress, you are stylish compared to what I wear.” Serena noted the girl wore the ugliest dress in the worst color.

  “Your dress is a drab color and does not complement your hair. There are no adornments. Perhaps I can help you,” Serena offered.

  “I am aware, but we are not allowed such things. Leland would object.” She cast her eyes downward in obvious regret. “What is the book you seek?” Josephine asked, leaving the subject of dresses.

  “I look for a book on French translations to English. Is there such a one?” Serena formed a plan in her mind. “Is there a book on the history of this keep?”

  “Yes.” She pointed to a shelf which held many volumes. “Over there is where this fortress’s history can be found.” She moved to another shelf. “Right here is where the translation book is,” she replied and handed it to Serena. If you need writing paper, I can find some for you. Will you require a pen?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Josephine placed the card in the antique box.

  “Let’s go back to our chambers together. May I stop at your room, Serena? I would love to see the gown you’ve brought to wear at your wedding.” They exited the library and walked up to their rooms.

  “Josephine, I did not have time to choose one. My brother told me to pack and be ready in three hours.”

  “How can we plan for a marriage without a proper dress for you? I shall speak to Mother about it.” Josephine smiled, her eyes flashed excitement, “And I could be your bridesmaid.”

  “You are a sweet woman and I feel close to you already, but this marriage arranged by my brother does not suit me. Your brother disliked me on sight, yet he does not even know me. He is formidable.”