The Scandal of the Deceived Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Hanna Hamilton

  “Mother, do you ever read the newspapers? They have their own nation now. It is called the United States of America. He is no traitor but a hero and a patriot of that country.” Her mother’s obtuseness never ceased to amaze her.

  “Rubbish. He is a traitor. He fights for them…for the Americans against the British,” said Mother, stubborn to the last. “How could you ever want to be with such a man? And an American?”

  It was no use. Amelia knew that her mother had absolutely no idea what was happening in the world. Whenever Father mentioned current affairs at the breakfast, lunch or dinner table, she would immediately reprimand him for speaking of such uncouth things during mealtimes. It was just her way. All that mattered to her was high society and what happened between the main players therein. Lord Templeton French had been her key to the highest echelons of that exalted creed and now that avenue of advancement was gone.

  “Mother let’s change the subject. All you need to know is that I love Jonathan. He could be a Red Indian tribesman for all I care…”

  Mother was no longer listening. “Tis the Duchess of Waverly…oh, how lovely. We had the most delightful conversation the other week about what flowers to put on the dinner table so that one might add an autumn note to the evening’s banquet. She had some fascinating ideas concerning the use of leaves that had already changed their color and how to arrange them so that they look pretty.”

  Lady Felicity’s entire demeanor morphed from the glum into a state that bordered on rapture. The change was miraculous. The complexion on her face lit up in conjuncture with the change in her disposition. If it weren’t for the laws of physics, she would launch into flight and never come down.

  Amelia followed her mother’s vulturine gaze that would’ve been better suited for some gluttonous birdie. It was wholly reserved for an elegant lady dressed in the most radiant maroon walking dress with a matching coat and corresponding fur neckline. She glided toward them with a coterie of other ladies attired in equally splendid garments. The main lady was in mid-conversation with one of her toadies. She did not notice Amelia and her mother standing by the wayside of the park lane, looking at them.

  “Oh, how lovely to see you, your Grace. I was just telling my daughter about the marvelous ideas you had concerning the decoration of an autumn table.” Amelia’s mother flitted forward happily. She behaved as if she was about to greet her closest friend.

  The Duchess of Waverly looked up briefly. However, her gaze swayed in mid-air, not once meeting Amelia’s mother’s regard, it remained there for a moment until she looked away – it was as if Amelia and her mother were invisible to the eye. The duchess’s naturally sharp features and penetrating blue eyes projected her conceited demeanor all the more. She whispered a few words to the gaggle of women in her presence and they quickly flitted past without looking in Amelia’s or her mother’s direction. The gaggle of geese couldn’t get away quick enough.

  It was a ‘cut direct’ if there ever was one. It was a deliberate act on the duchess’s part, signaling the cutting of all bonds of relationship between the two parties involved. It was a highly risky thing to do, especially when done in public. Generally, it was frowned upon and was very embarrassing for those present to witness such a thing. However, in this case, the duchess was with her close confidants from whom she would most certainly receive full support, no matter how uncomfortable the situation had been.

  It was what Amelia and her mother had dreaded all along. The cat was out of the bag. Lord Templeton French had been gossiping at balls, at his club or anywhere else where polite society coalesced. By now, Amelia would be considered a breaker of oaths and a harlot for having accepted another man’s proposal of marriage and breaking the one already in place with the duke’s son. It was considered the most dishonorable thing to do.

  “Amelia, let us go home. I have never been so humiliated in my life,” said Mother, looking at least ten years older. “I don’t know if I will ever be able to forgive you for putting me in this position. I have lost everything that I have worked so hard for.”

  Anna and Amelia exchanged glances. Anna could’ve killed Lady Felicity Carlyle, 1st Baronet of Windom, for treating her daughter so. In essence, it was Amelia with the bad name, but the ship sank with all souls aboard – her family would go down with her. Amelia patted Anna on the shoulder. “Don’t be too harsh on her; this could very well be the worst day of her life,” whispered Amelia. Anna rolled her eyes disbelievingly. It always astounded her how understanding Amelia could be.

  Amelia looked at her mother who was on the verge of tears. It would not be long before they came pouring out and started streaming down her cheeks. “Mother, we best get you home as soon as possible.”

  Mother nodded meekly. Amelia had never seen her like this before. But, in a way, she could understand her. Contrary to Amelia, she placed so much emphasis on social standing. It was her life. Everything was ruined now. The duchess was one thing, but the other women in the group constituted the pinnacle of society. Naturally, there were more women of note, but those aforementioned ladies decided almost everything in terms of who would be invited to events, who was worth keeping an eye on, and ultimately who would be discarded as disreputable.

  As it turned out, the Carlyle family was finished. Well, at least until one of the noble bunch needed a loan from Papa. This was something that occurred rather often because of the near addictive gambling habits of the upper classes. They had no choice as working was frowned upon. That only left them with gambling, hunting, frequenting clubs, drunken debauchery and the other useless pastimes that brought no intrinsic happiness to many of them.

  Anna and Amelia rushed Mother through the park in the direction of the West End and home as if she were an invalid. As if the clouds sensed her sadness, the various strands of cumulus in the sky had in the meantime become as one. The first drop of rain landed on the ground the moment the trio reached the front door. It would be a rainy night, thought Amelia.

  Chapter 29

  The Surprise Rendezvous

  London, England, October 1814

  “So, how was yer day, old friend?” asked Jake, entering the drawing room. His mood was chipper. Ever since his reunion with Anna, it had been soaring. Nothing could bring him down.

  Jonathan looked up from the paper he was reading. He shrugged. “The same as usual. I got some shooting practice done and did a little work.”

  “Work! What kind of work?” asked Jake, intrigued.

  “Well, I was looking at ways to improve the profitability of the plantation.” Jonathan was still studying the paper where he had made some notes.

  “And did ye have any brilliant ideas?” Jake lowered himself down in the armchair where he usually sat.

  Jonathan seemed very pleased with himself. Despite the fact that the duel was in two days time, his mood was good. “As you know growing tobacco is very heavy on the soil. We’re lucky to get up to five cycles of growth from any one field. It’s labor intensive as well. If we keep harvesting tobacco, it won’t be that long until the fields go barren and we won’t be able to grow anything there anymore. It would be the end of Fair Weather Heaths’ as we know it.”

  Jake nodded. “I see. Ye have a point.” It amazed him that his friend could be worrying about such things when in two days time his life would be on the line. However, at the same time, he also recognized the Triton captain in him: fearless and resolute when it came to his goals. “What do ye have in mind?”

  “Well, as far as I see it we have two options. We do what we know and stick to the sea…”

  “Ye mean rejoin the navy when we get back?” Jake looked worried.

  Jonathan laughed. His humor had improved a great deal since he could correspond with Amelia. “Don’t worry; I wouldn’t ask you to travel by sea for months on end with me.”

  “Ye know I’d go with ye though…to the ends of the earth if need be.”

  “I know that, Jake. I just wouldn’t put you in that position. Anna woul
d kill you for just mentioning something like that,” said Jonathan. “And me to boot,” he added, laughing again. He really was in a good mood.

  “I was thinking of something more along the lines of setting up a shipping company. I have all of the necessary connections with the shipbuilders and banks, and also I have very good ties to the people who sell cotton down south,” Jonathan said with a sly expression on his face.

  Jake scratched his chin. “Cotton ye say.” He thought a moment. “Well, I have been hearing that the stuff has been doing rather well as of late.”

  “Now, that is an understatement if I ever heard one. The cotton industry is booming. It is like a new gold rush. Currently, most of the cotton and also the best type called long-staple cotton grows exclusively on the Sea Islands off the coast of South Carolina and nowhere else because the land and weather are too harsh…”

  “What good is that to us in Virginia then?” asked Jake.

  “To be frank, none.”

  Jake snorted. “Well, that doesn’t sound all that promising.”

  Jonathan leaned into his friend. “Maybe not, but it doesn’t mean that we can’t take part in the exploit. A close source of mine says that another strain of cotton might exist – this one is of lesser quality to the long-staple variety. But it is far more durable, meaning it can be planted almost anywhere as long as the climes and the land are right. If that is the case, then the entire south and the lands farther westwards would be suitable for planting.”

  Jake whistled “Yes, and we purchased all that land from the French in…” Jake scratched his head in thought.

  “In 1803…we bought Louisiana from Napoleon,” said Jonathan, coming to his friend’s aid. “You are right that entire belt of land along the Mississippi all the way down to the Gulf of Mexico is arable land,” said Jonathan, thinking of the profits that could be made if the area could be planted with cotton.

  “So, I am assuming this is yer other business idea. We buy up as much land as possible and slaves to work it,” said Jake, catching on fast.

  “Precisely, my friend. The business is booming. Cotton is being shipped to Liverpool, Manchester, Le Havre, New York, Lisbon and other places. Already, there is not enough supply to cover demand and prices are going up even more. The profit potential is huge, Jake,” said Jonathan, getting excited.

  “Which is why ye mentioned the shipping company before. So, to sum it up, we have two options, one, we invest in land and slaves, or we invest in ships,” said Jake.

  “Indeed, my friend…now all we have to do is decide which one we like.” Jonathan lifted his glass. Jake followed suit. Both men drained their glasses and looked at one another with grins on their faces. “Which one would you go for?” asked Jonathan, walking up to the drinks cabinet to refill their glasses.

  “Ships,” answered Jake without hesitation.

  “I thought you might say that. Ships are always needed. Well, so is land, but what happens if there’s a change in the political landscape or the demand for cotton drops, eh? Or maybe slaves will no longer be an option – who knows what might happen in the next twenty to thirty years. But if we have ships, we can just change the cargo and be done with it. Shipping is the future.”

  “My sentiments exactly. And we know a thing or two about ships. I know nothing about cotton,” said Jake, gratefully accepting the glass Jonathan proffered him.

  “Good, it is settled then. To the Farrows and Mitchell Shipping Company,” said Jonathan, lifting his glass.

  “I’ll drink to that,” responded Jake, smiling.

  “Sirs, there are some ladies waiting for you in the hallway,” said Chives, appearing as butlers do, silently and discreetly.

  “Well, what did you leave them out there for, Chives?” asked Jonathan.

  “Sir, I was not sure whether to fully admit them to your presence,” said the butler, straightening his posture some more, if that were even possible. “Would you like me to escort them to the drawing room, sir?”

  “No, Chives. Please escort the ladies to the dining room. We will be having dinner now,” said Jake, beating Jonathan to it.”

  “What are you doing? I am not having dinner with some ladies I do not know. Have you lost your mind? I love Amelia. What would she think if she ever found out?” Jonathan shook his head.

  Jake could not help laughing. “You should see yerself. Ye are behaving as if I asked the devil to dinner.”

  “Don’t blaspheme otherwise he might really be joining us,” said Jonathan still looking shocked that his friend would make such an outlandish suggestion. I thought he loves Anna.

  “Do ye trust me?”

  Jonathan frowned. “Of course, I do, Jake.”

  “Good,” said Jake, getting to his feet. “Follow me; we can’t keep the ladies waiting that would be extremely bad form.” He navigated out of the drawing room. By the door, he swiveled on his feet. “Are ye coming?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He just vanished down the hallway in the direction of the dining room.

  Grumbling, Jonathan got to his feet and followed his friend. As he got closer to the dining room, he could hear animated talking. The tone was exuberant. He frowned. Does Jake know these women? He walked on and entered the room. “Amelia!”

  “Jonathan!” She rushed into his arms. She looked up at him meekly. He stood at least a head taller than she did. Jonathan smiled at her, coaxing a small grin on her face. “I can’t believe this is actually happening,” she said, breathing heavily. The small dash across the dining room had left her breathless, as if it had been a cross-country run.

  “At last, I can hold you in my arms again.” Jonathan lowered his head a little, more and more when he felt her body responding to his.

  In moments, his mouth found hers. They locked in a way that they might never break apart. Amelia felt the weight of sadness drop off her frame as the moments passed, turning it into a memory, a onetime pesky figment of her imagination. The longer she kissed Jonathan, the more fortitude she drew from him. He was a well of power and strength.

  Jonathan held Amelia close. If he could, he would’ve enmeshed his body with hers until they were but one realm in the physical as well as one kingdom in the spiritual. Reading her letters and being able to write to her about how he felt had already been a gift, but this…it was magical to touch, smell and kiss the woman he loved.

  As they reluctantly pulled away, their gazes remained fixed. He held her by the waist, needing to touch her, still disbelieving that she was real. Amelia let her hands slide down the length of his arms until she held his hands that rested on her waist.

  “I have waited for this moment. Until now, it was half agony and half hope. I had faith, but I never quite knew whether our paths would ever cross again,” said Jonathan. He still disbelieved his eyes. If their hands weren’t touching, he would have claimed this to be some false vision.

  “I am here now, Jonathan. There are really no words that can really describe what I am feeling right now…” Amelia breathed heavily. The kiss and the emotions ebbing and flowing inside of her were almost too much to bear. “I think all I can say is that I am the happiest woman alive.”

  “Ye can count me in on that one, Amelia,” said Anna, laughing in the background.

  “Aye, this is a fine evening. All four of us together again,” intoned Jake. “I suggest we sit down. I had Maud from the kitchen prepare us a little something nice for dinner.”

  Jonathan couldn’t quite let go of Amelia; he held her hand all the way to the table. Instead of sitting opposite her as Jake had originally intended, he insisted he sit next to her. He’d rather feel her soft skin and smell her fragrance than see her. And yet, he was undecided in that too. He wanted to look at her forever, and never lose sight of this woman who had claimed his heart. In essence, he wanted all of her and nothing less.

  For Amelia, it was the same. Despite her happiness, she was also baffled. Here was the man she loved…living, breathing, smiling and sitting next to her in the flesh. It
was too much good fortune to bear. It did not take long for the barriers she had so painstakingly raised since their unwanted separation to come crumbling down like a fortress after a siege. Tears poured out of her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. At that moment, she did not know whether they were out of happiness or sadness or both.

  “Amelia…don’t cry…everything will be all right.” Jonathan reached out and took Amelia in his arms. He buried his nose in her hair, relishing her scent that emanated off her scalp. It was enough to sear his brain and make him forget her anguish. Reluctantly pulling his head away, he looked into her eyes, momentarily letting the pristine greenness therein captivate and distract him. “What ails you, sweeting?” he asked, looking concerned.

  “It is just so magical to hold you again after having you presented to me at my father’s house a few weeks ago only to have you taken away again,” Amelia said, Wiping a few tears off her face.