Wicked Temptations for the Seduced Duchess: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Olivia Bennet

  “This is entirely you, Caroline,” Lydia replied. “You have always looked this fair to us, and now you can see it for yourself.”

  Her eyes glittered with tears. “I do not know how to thank you both. This is…I am speechless.”

  “You do not need to thank us, Sister,” Mary said. “You simply need to be confident in your own beauty, for we have done very little. This fairness is all your own.”

  Through the half-open doorway, Lydia froze as she heard her mother’s voice calling from downstairs. “Lydia! Where are you, darling?”

  “Might I be excused for a moment. I will not be long,” Lydia said rapidly, before hurrying from the room. She ducked into Mary’s bedchamber and snatched up a freshly-dunked cloth and rested it to her forehead. From there, she raced towards her own bedchamber and sank down on the covers.

  That was where her mother found her, several minutes later.

  “Lydia? My goodness, Lydia—are you well?” Her mother rushed over to the bed and placed a hand against her forehead. “Oh, my goodness, you are rife with fever. How can this have happened? Whatever will Lord Chalmers say?”

  Thank you for your concern as to my welfare, Mother.

  “Caroline…” Lydia croaked.

  “What did you say?”

  “Caroline…will take…my place. I do not…feel at all…well.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach and shivered most convincingly.

  The Duchess shook her head. “I knew something like this would happen. The moment Mary took ill, I just knew this would occur.” She paused. “As for Caroline, I do not think she will be a suitable substitute.”

  “She will…I know she will.” Lydia trembled and shuddered on the covers, her head still hot from the cloth that she’d thrown under her bed.

  As if beckoned by the mention of her name, there came a knock at the bedchamber door. Mary and Caroline walked in, and their mother’s mouth fell open in awe.

  “Mary, you ought to be in bed, for goodness’ sake!” she yelped. “You have done enough injury this day. Off with you!” Mary cast a sneaky glance at Lydia, who flashed one back, before she disappeared to her own bedchamber.

  Meanwhile, Caroline shifted uncomfortably. “I hope you do not mind, Mama. It would be better to have him greeted by one of us, would it not?”

  “Yes…yes, I believe it would,” her mother replied. “And you will do rather nicely. I have never seen you look so pretty. Have you done all of this by yourself?”

  Caroline looked at Lydia, who lifted a finger to her lips. “Yes, Mama. Once I discovered that Lydia had taken ill, I thought it best that I did what I could to look presentable for Lord Chalmers. Even if he lacks interest in me, it would not reflect well on the family if he were to be turned away.”

  “My dear girl, how thoughtful you are. And how radiant. Goodness me, I ought to demand you attend more balls and soirées, now that I know you can look so fair.” Her mother looked like she might cry tears of joy.

  “I do not know about that, Mama, but I am glad to take Lydia’s place for this afternoon, given her poorly state.” Caroline dipped her head, and a pleased smile found its way across her features.

  “Yes, well you must come downstairs with me this instant, for it will not be long until his arrival.” She got up from the edge of the bed, leaving Lydia shivering, and made her way to the door. She cast a glance back at her middle daughter. “I will send a maid to attend on you and call for the physician if your state worsens. You must rest.”

  Lydia nodded feebly. “I will, Mother.”

  With that, her mother ushered Caroline out of the bedchamber and closed the door behind her.

  It worked! My goodness, it worked! Lydia crawled to the top of the bed and slipped down beneath the comforting covers, pulling them up to her chin in delight.

  Glancing towards the window, she grinned with sheer happiness. Wait for me, my love. I am coming to you.

  Chapter 18

  “Well, how did it go? Do not keep us in suspense,” Mary squealed, as she sat up on Lydia’s supposed sickbed. It was almost six in the evening, and Caroline had spent the better part of four hours in the company of John Chalmers. Lydia was just as eager to discover what had gone on between them.

  Caroline smiled and lay down on the covers. “It was marvelous. Simply marvelous.”

  “Tell us more,” Lydia urged.

  “Well, he was naturally rather surprised when I walked through the door, but Mama had explained the situation to him. He agreed to remain, though I do not believe he expected to have much amusement,” she said, somewhat sadly. “But then, as soon as he set eyes upon me, he smiled with such admiration that I thought my heart might burst.”

  Lydia grinned. “Is he handsome?”

  “Oh yes, very. He has dark hair and deep brown eyes, the color of chocolate. And he is rather tall and well-framed, and he carries himself with such elegance.” Caroline beamed at the ceiling, clearly in heaven.

  “And smart?” Mary pressed.

  “Even smarter than he is handsome,” Caroline replied, with a contented sigh. “We spoke of everything there is to speak about. He is also a religious gentleman, so we discussed our favorite psalms and passages. But we also spoke of literature, and poetry, and theater, and how pleasant it is to take frequent walks. I confess, I did not know such gentlemen existed.”

  “Has he asked to see you again?” Lydia brimmed with pride. Her plan had worked far better than she had anticipated, and she could not have been happier with the conclusion. She had never seen her elder sister so enchanted. It was a glorious thing to behold.

  She clasped her hand to her heart. “He has, dearest Lydia. He has asked if we might take a turn about the gardens after church, this very Sunday. He has also asked if he might sit with our family during the service.”

  “How splendid, Caroline,” Lydia gushed.

  “Mama must be thrilled,” Mary said, with a sly glance at Lydia.

  Caroline nodded. “She is absolutely ecstatic. I suppose she did not expect me to be the one entertaining potential suitors.” Her tone turned sad again, which irked Lydia.

  “You do yourself a disservice, talking so,” she chided. “You are a wonderful young lady, and Lord Chalmers sees that. You have always been beautiful and charming, and you must take pains to see it for yourself.”

  “I owe it all to the both of you.” Caroline sat up and gazed at her sisters. “None of this would have been possible without you.”

  “Then, it is fortunate that this fever came along when it did. You must admit that it is fate?” Lydia smiled.

  “I can feel God’s hand in this, for certain. I only hope this is not a test, where I am destined to have such happiness taken away from me.” She paused. “Now that I have experienced Lord Chalmers’ warmth and intelligence, I do not believe I can be without it.”

  Mary sighed merrily. “Then you are both lucky souls. To find each other in this world, and to fall into such happiness—that is no mean feat.”

  “No, it is not,” Lydia agreed.

  “Then, I shall look to it with bright eyes and a heart filled with hope. I shall pray for my continued happiness and implore the Lord to let me remain in such a joyous state.” Caroline flopped back down onto the bed and hummed a quiet tune to herself.

  Lydia could not have been more grateful. She was not a religious young lady, though she attended church in due fashion, but for the first time she found herself looking to a higher power. If Caroline may have such happiness, I pray that I may be gifted the same joy. For we are all Your creatures, are we not? We are all equal in Your eyes. If you are listening, let Edward and I be together, and I shall pray to you every night for the rest of my days.

  She did not know if anyone could hear her, but she refused to let the candle of her hope go out. Edward was out there, and he would be waiting for her. For now, that was enough to keep her spirits up.

  I will be with you soon, my love.

  Edward waited impatiently in the haylof
t for the clock to strike twelve. He had spent the day in a state of perpetual anxiety, eager for the day to be over so he could go to his love. He had heard from the staff that she had taken to her bed with a sudden bout of fever, but he was not worried. He knew a ruse when he heard one, and Lydia was remarkably clever.

  She has evaded Lord Chalmers and used her wits to avoid a match. By all accounts, the fellow had taken a shine to the elder daughter of the Duke—Caroline. Edward did not know much about her, but he wished her well if such a romance had begun. It would certainly take the pressure away from Lydia.

  He froze as he heard the distant church bells chime midnight. Feeling overcome with excitement, he threw on his long coat and headed out of the stables, moving in the direction of the riverbank. Ever since he’d had his first terrible dream, he had avoided the beautiful stretch of water. But now, it held no fear, only anticipation.

  The night was crisp and clear, with a blanket of stars overhead, twinkling in the cloudless sky. In the distance, he heard the hoot of owls, scouring for their prey, and the screech of foxes in dispute. Paying them no mind, he pressed on along the riverbank, his boots thudding on the hard-packed dirt. Dew had bejeweled the grass, each blade glittering in the moonlight.

  Where are you, my love?

  He looked towards the spot where the forest met the river and squinted for any sign of her. She was no doubt hiding, to avoid being seen from the house.

  He trudged along and let his gaze meander down to the rushing river water. Willows bent toward the flowing current, and several soft splashes revealed the presence of darting fish, who had yet to slumber. Ducks nestled on the banks, their heads tucked into their plumage, sleeping soundly. He admired them as he walked on, trying to keep the image of the drowned girl out of his head.

  This is not the same river. He did not know the location of the one where she had died, but he knew it was not here. The bank did not look the same, and there was no waiting horse to awaken his vanished memories. Nor was he being chased by an unseen rider, with pistols glinting at his sides.

  Before long, he reached the woodland and came to a halt. He could not see Lady Lydia anywhere, making him wonder if he had arrived too early. Perhaps, she had been held back at the house, and was conjuring up a way to escape, right at that very moment. He looked to her window and saw a single candle burning on the ledge—all is well.

  He stood there for ten minutes more, the creeping cold of the evening slithering into his bones and making his teeth chatter. Even with his coat on, he could not keep away the chill. Hopping from foot to foot to chase it away, he lifted his collar to his chin and kept his eyes fixed on the house. If she hurried towards him, he would see her immediately.

  She will come. She will not abandon me.

  He felt sure of it, for the letter had been written in earnest. And there were no lingering qualms about her falling for the charms of the Earl’s son, for she had not met with him.

  Unless she is truly unwell?

  The possibility began to dawn on him. Maybe, that was the reason for her lateness.

  He whirled around as a twig snapped behind him, ricocheting through the silent wood like a gunshot. A figure approached from the darkness, shrouded in a hooded cloak.

  “Lydia?” Edward’s voice echoed between the trees.

  “You came.” The reply sounded muffled and distorted.

  “Is that you, Lydia?” A sudden sense of dread gripped his chest. The figure did move the way that Lydia did, nor did they match her shape and elegance.

  “I am surprised at how easy it is to fool an imbecile in love.” A grim laugh erupted from behind the hood, the voice now undeniably masculine. And very familiar.

  Edward glanced this way and that, trying to figure out a plan of escape. If he turned and ran, he did not know how far he would get. If he headed into the woods, there was every chance the hooded man would come after him and murder him where he stood.

  “What have you done with her?” Edward spat.

  “Done with whom?”

  “Lady Lydia. Where is she? If you have harmed her in any way, you will die for it.”

  The man laughed. “She is not here, you fool. I sent the letter. I saw your brazen display in the stables, and I knew you would fall into my trap.”

  He realized how stupid he had been, to believe that the letter had come from Lydia. But it had been so very convincing, and he had never seen her handwriting before. How could he have known that it was a trap? This man had used Lydia against him, and he would not get away with it.

  “What do you want from me?” Edward barked, eyeing the house. He was a fast runner, and he knew he could make it there before the hooded assailant could stop him.

  Unless he is armed. Edward glanced at the thick, woolen cloak that the man wore, and caught the telltale shine of a pistol.

  Is this the same pursuer from my dream…it has to be. But why does he want to see me dead? He thought about Danson once more, and the truth began to dawn. Danson had been the one to deliver the letter, and Danson had been the one to urge him read it. Had someone else instructed Danson to do so? The Duke of Greenwick, perhaps?

  He knows. The Duke knows. The Duke wants me gone for touching his daughter.

  With no memories to support his thoughts, it seemed like the only fathomable explanation. The first attack had come shortly after Danson had discovered them, and this one had come after he had kissed Lydia, in the wake of that initial assault.

  “I want to see you punished,” the man replied.

  “For what?”

  His mouth twisted up in a grimace. “I think you know why. Do you expect us all to believe that you have lost your memory? You cannot trick us any longer. You know who you are, and you know why I am here. Do not deny it.”

  “I promise you, I do not have my memories.”

  “You dare lie to me?” the man raged, casting aside his cloak and pulling out the two pistols. With his hood down, Edward saw that it was the same man who had attacked him previously. Even in the darkness, he could see the crosshatched scar and the same grizzled face. “You will pay for what you have done, and you will pay with your life!”

  Edward lunged towards the fellow before he had the chance to fire a shot, the two of them tumbling into the undergrowth with a crack of branches. Immediately, Edward’s hands wrestled for the pistols, fighting to get them away from his assailant’s hands, whilst trying to stop the man from pulling the trigger.

  “Who are you?” Edward hissed, as he came nose-to-nose with the attacker. He smelled the faint sourness of old booze on the fellow’s breath and saw scarlet thread veins webbing across his skin.

  “The pretense is over! You cannot fool me any longer!” The attacker rose up with sudden violence and pushed Edward onto his back. The fall knocked the air out of him, but with his life on the line, he paid it no heed.

  “I do not know you, Sir.” Edward grimaced as the fellow brought the butt of the right-hand pistol down on his brow. A faint, warm trickle began to move slowly down the side of his face, before dropping into the undergrowth. Crimson filled his eye, forcing him to close it.

  “I will watch the life leave you. I have been looking forward to this moment, and I will be satisfied. My instructions have led to you, and you will not escape me.” The man’s breath came down hot and foul on Edward’s skin, as he swiftly kneed the fellow in the stomach. He howled in pain and clutched at his abdomen, giving Edward the opportunity he needed to get out from under him.

  “Your instructions? Whose instructions?” Edward panted for breath as he stood over the assailant, and wiped blood from his brow.

  “You will never know,” the man shot back. Without warning, he lifted the two flintlock pistols and aimed them directly at Edward’s head, leaving him in an impossible situation.

  Can I run before the bullets hit? He had to try.

  Turning on his tail, he fled the woods as fast as humanly possible. All he could hear was the breath gasping from his lungs and the
blood rushing in his ears. He did not hear the click of the trigger and the ensuing blast as the first shot erupted from the chamber and hurtled straight for him.

  Chapter 19

  James and Adrian pulled to a halt outside a rather pleasant townhouse in the borough of Belgravia. It was not quite the abode of a titled member of society, but it was not far from the neighborhoods that held the upper echelons.

  Adrian whistled. “Not too bad for a merchant. I wonder what he trades?” He had endured the silence of his cousin since leaving the dreary terrace in Southwark, though his own spirits would not be quashed. If they had discovered one of Edward’s pins, then they were undeniably on the right trail.