Kind Ella and the Charming Duke

by Bridget Barton

  “This is my oldest daughter, Lady Patience Belville,” the Earl said pompously.

  “How very nice to meet you again, Lady Patience,” the Earl said and smiled.

  “And it is nice to meet you again, Your Grace,” Patience said and bobbed her head prettily.

  “And this, of course, is my other daughter, Lady Georgiana Belville,” the Earl went on and seemed to be finding his confidence.

  However, Ella thought it was confidence ill-deserved since he ought really to have brought his own wife before the Duke ahead of his daughters for an introduction. How very desperate he was to push his daughters to the head of the line.

  “And it is nice to see you again, Lady Georgiana. I must say, how very alike you are.” He smiled again, although Ella could not help thinking that his heart was not entirely in the room with him.

  “Thank you, Your Grace. And I do hope that you are well,” Georgiana said and smiled as she looked up at him in a most practiced adoring manner. “And I must say how very much I enjoyed the masquerade ball you held at Hillington. Really, it is the finest ball that has been held anywhere that I know of.”

  Ella winced; her stepsister had certainly gone too far too fast.

  “How very kind, Lady Georgiana,” he said, and his smile seemed just a little tighter.

  “And you will remember my wife, Lady Ariadne Dandridge.” The Earl blundered on, seemingly unaware of his youngest daughter’s pushy manner.

  “Lady Dandridge, what a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Good afternoon, Your Grace, and welcome to our home.” Ariadne spoke her lines with such a flourish that Ella realized they had been as rehearsed as the Earl’s.

  No doubt he had told her exactly what he wanted to say and the manner in which he wanted her to say it. Really, that they thought the Duke would not be able to see through such a charade. But then, of course, it was likely little different from the charades he saw about him each and every day. Why would this be any different? Why would this gain his attention any more than any other?

  “Thank you kindly, Lady Dandridge.”

  The Earl seemed ready to usher the Duke into a seat, but he was stopped in his tracks when the Duke turned his head to look in Ella’s direction. The Earl really had been about to continue their conversation without introducing Ella at all, and the Duke had seen it.

  “Oh yes, of course.” The Earl laughed nervously, making a very good attempt at pretending he had simply forgotten the final member of the household. “This is my stepdaughter, Miss Winfield.”

  Ella could hardly believe the brevity of the introduction. The Earl had called her Miss Winfield , not Miss Ella Winfield . He had introduced her in a way which had made her feel inconsequential, nameless, almost like a governess.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Winfield. How nice it is to make your acquaintance.” The Duke took a step towards her and bowed deeply.

  “I am very pleased to meet you, Your Grace,” Ella said in a quiet voice, hopeful that he would not recognize anything about her.

  “You were not at the masquerade ball last week, I believe?”

  “No, Your Grace.” Her mouth was dry, not just because of the lie, but because she was aware that her stepfather was staring at her furiously from behind the Duke.

  “Why is it that you did not attend with your family?” He narrowed his dark eyes quizzically.

  “I am afraid that I was a little unwell, Your Grace.”

  “What a great shame, Miss Winfield. I trust that you are feeling better now?” He was studying her curiously, and she had the awful feeling that he might recognize her at any moment.

  If only he would stop talking to her; if only he would turn his attention away from her and onto her dreadful stepsisters.

  “Yes, Your Grace, she is very much recovered,” the Earl answered for her, his tone loud enough to attract the Duke’s attention fully. “Do take a seat, Your Grace,” he said and ushered him into the armchair that had been strategically placed on the other side of the table from Patience and Georgiana.

  As the Duke sat down, he turned a little in his seat and seemed to be very cleverly taking in the fact that Ella had been set apart just a little from the rest of them.

  “Forgive my intrusion, Your Grace, but there was something that I had wanted Ella to do.” Ariadne had not yet taken her seat and quickly made her way to her daughter’s side. “Ella, my dear, would you go and have a word with the cook about the menu for this evening?”

  “Menu?” Ella said and immediately wished she had not.

  Her confusion had been clear, and the Duke would have been left in no doubt whatsoever that her mother’s request was simply a means of having her daughter removed from the room.

  Ella had never been more embarrassed in her life.

  “Yes, my dear, the menu,” Ariadne said a little more firmly.

  “Yes, of course, Mama,” Ella said and hastened to her feet.

  As she rose to her feet, the Duke did also, displaying very much finer manners than had ever likely existed within the walls of Dandridge Hall when the family was at home alone.

  He inclined his head graciously, and Ella did the same before scurrying away, her cheeks burning with shame.

  The very moment she was outside the drawing room door with it closed firmly behind her, she blinked hard at angry little tears. She knew there was no sense in making her way down to the servants’ area below stairs to have any sort of discussion with the cook, for she knew that no such query over the menu existed. She had simply been rejected from the room, and very publicly so.

  She wondered if her mother would come to regret her hasty decision, even if it had been done to help her husband and his daughters. After all, she had made something of a fool of herself, although it seemed unlikely that the Earl would even notice. There seemed to be a great gap in his education, and that gap, Ella knew well, was simple manners.

  “Miss Winfield?” Suddenly William, the second footman and firm favourite of Violet, was crossing the entrance hall. “Are you alright?” He gave her his typically sunny smile, and she blinked even harder for fear that she would cry in front of him.

  “Yes, I am quite well, William.”

  “But Miss, are you not supposed to be inside the drawing room instead of outside? ” He screwed his face up in a way which made her feel much better.

  There was an honest way about William which she hoped would one day not get him into trouble.

  “In truth, I am supposed to be inside, but I fear that my own mother has just banished me.”

  “In front of the Duke?” William hissed incredulously.

  “I am afraid so.” She felt her cheeks flushing again; it seemed her shame would never leave her.

  “I am so sorry, Miss Winfield. Is there anything that I can do? Ought I to run and get Violet for you?”

  “No, I shall manage very well, William. But thank you for your kindness.”

  “But where are you going to go now?” William persisted, his young face full of concern.

  “I am going to get my cloak and take a turn around the grounds. I think I do not wish to be in the hall when the Duke leaves, for I would not wish to see him again.”

  “I understand.” He nodded kindly. “But wait here, I shall run and get your cloak for you, Miss Winfield,” William said, and disappeared instantly.

  Ella moved away from the drawing room door and stood silently by the great entrance. William returned in no time and helped her into her cloak, handing her a warm bonnet to match.

  “I am sorry, Miss Winfield, but I could not find any gloves.”

  “Think nothing of it, William. It is warm enough today, I shall not need gloves.”

  “Very well, Miss,” William said and made a big performance of opening the door for her, treating her like the lady her own mother had refused to recognize.

  “Thank you, William.”

  “You’re welcome, Miss.”

  As soon as Ella reached the bottom of the great stone
steps, she marched quickly. She wanted to be as far away from the hall as possible, determining to make her way to the edge of the grounds, perhaps even right off the estate. She would march and march until her humiliation evaporated in the heat of her exertion.

  However, as determined as she was to outrun her anguish, tears of anger and injustice rolled down her cheeks. If the Earl himself had dismissed her from the room, she might well have been humiliated, but rather more amused than anything. It was the fact that it had been her mother, her very own flesh and blood, that had hurt her so.

  It took Ella almost an hour of determined marching to reach the edge of the estate. She had reached a pretty sort of wilderness just a little way from the great gravel driveway and, her face stinging from so many tears, she sat down on an old fallen tree trunk to put herself to rights again.

  The tree trunk had been cut and must have lain there for many years. Its surface was now shiny with use, and she wondered if it had been left there some generations before as somewhere for a determined walker to take their rest. Whether it had or had not, she was very grateful for it.

  She took a fresh handkerchief from the sleeve of her gown and did what she could to clean up her face. Her eyes were sore and puffy, and she knew that she could not return to Dandridge Hall in such a state. Not only could she not risk crossing paths with the Duke while she was in such a state, but she did not want her mother and stepfather to realize just what a capacity they had to hurt her. She would not give them the upper hand, even if she had to sit out there on that tree trunk all night.

  Ella was so determined in straightening up her appearance and so distracted by her own hurt and humiliation that she did not hear the carriage wheels approach.

  She knew she had been sitting there for some time, but still, she had not expected the Duke of Hillington to be leaving Dandridge Hall so soon.

  The carriage drew to a halt some distance before the exit, not far from where she sat. She heard the door opening and could barely look, knowing that the Duke himself was undoubtedly about to jump down.

  It was clear that he had seen her, and she knew that there would be no escaping the next few moments. If only she had been paying attention instead of wallowing in self-pity, she might have realized how dangerously close to the gravel driveway she was. She would have had the foresight to hide herself a little better.

  “Miss Winfield?” She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing herself anywhere but there. And in closing her eyes, she recognized the Duke’s voice as if it was her own. “Miss Winfield, are you quite well?”

  Ella rose to her feet, knowing that there was nothing else that she could do. She hurriedly bobbed and inclined her head, hoping that the skin on her face had returned to its normal smooth, unblemished softness.

  “I am quite well, Your Grace. I thank you.” She spoke quietly, still very aware of the fact that she did not want him to recognize anything about her, her voice included.

  “My dear woman, it is clear to me that you are far from well,” he said determinedly. “Look at me, would you.”

  “Your Grace, I …” As she spoke, she kept her eyes on the ground.

  “Miss Winfield, I beg that you would look at me,” he said, his tone still determined but very much gentler.

  “I suppose I am a little unwell, Your Grace. But I am improving, and I shall be absolutely fine, I thank you.” She looked up at him and immediately registered his look of concern.

  “Forgive me, young lady, but you have been crying,” he said and looked at her so intently she once again feared recognition.

  “Yes, but you must not trouble yourself with it, Your Grace. I am just being very silly, and I shall put myself to rights at any moment.”

  “I had thought that you might return after your visit to the cook,” he said quizzically.

  “Forgive me, Your Grace. I did not mean any insult by it.”

  “That is not what I intended to convey, Miss Winfield. I am not offended.”

  “My apologies.”

  “You do not need to apologize, just tell me why it was that you did not return.”

  “Your Grace, forgive me, but I do not think I was expected to return.” At that moment, she had nothing to give him but the truth.

  Perhaps, given their brief acquaintance so far, the truth was very fitting.

  “Yes, I had perceived much the same myself,” he said, clearly pleased with the frankness of her answer. “But tell me, why were you so dismissed? I do not mean to pry, but if you can tell me, I should like to know.”

  “I am often dismissed in such circumstances, Your Grace. I have not lived here for very long, and I am not a favourite with my stepfather. My company angers and distracts him, and I do not know why. But I believe that my mother sought to avoid any awkwardness that my continued presence might have caused. I would beg that you forgive her for her curious behaviour.”

  “I would if it had truly seemed curious and not simply cruel.”

  “Your Grace, please.” Ella wanted more than anything to turn around and run away.

  “Forgive me, I have overstepped the line and, as I said before, I do not mean to pry.”

  “No forgiveness is required, Your Grace. You have been very kind, and I thank you for it, but I beg you would release me for my presence will be expected back in the hall.”

  “Of course,” he said and looked truly apologetic. “And I did not mean to cause you any further embarrassment, Miss Winfield. I was simply concerned.”

  “And I thank you for your concern, Your Grace.” She smiled quickly and then bowed her head graciously once more. “I shall bid you good day, Sir.”

  “Good day, Miss Winfield,” he said and bowed deeply himself as he turned to watch her leave.

  Chapter 12

  In the days which followed the Duke of Hillington’s visit to Dandridge Hall, Ella’s life took a distinct turn for the worst. When she had returned to the hall that late afternoon, tearstained and entirely upended by her impromptu meeting with the Duke, Ella had made her way directly upstairs to hide away in her own chamber.

  She had washed and washed her face in a little cold water which remained in the bottom of the jug on the washstand until the swelling around her eyes had all but departed.

  An hour before they were due to take dinner, Ella finally rose up from her bed where she had been laying staring at the ceiling for more than an hour and wondered what she would wear.

  When there came a light tap at the door, she thought it would be Violet come to help her get ready.

  “Come in,” she called out brightly, keen to see the young woman who seemed to be her only real friend.

  “I just wondered where you had been all afternoon,” her mother said a little frostily as she entered the room.

  “Oh dear, I thought you might be Violet.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Her mother stopped dead on the spot.

  “Forgive me, what I meant to say is that Violet is ordinarily on her way to me at this time. I had thought that you were she coming to get me ready for dinner, that is all.” Ella was furious.

  How dare her mother march into her room with her feelings on display when she had treated her own daughter so very cruelly? Did the new Countess of Dandridge have no idea at all?

  “Oh, I see. Well, she will not interrupt us. I have put her off.”

  “Interrupt us?” Ella said cautiously. “Interrupt us in what, Mama?”

  “In the little talk that you and I so desperately need to have.” Ariadne arched her eyebrows in a way which seemed to indicate that Ella, and Ella alone, was somehow at fault in all of this.

  “Well, what is it that you have to say?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about this afternoon. This afternoon at tea , I am sure you understand.”

  “Yes, this afternoon when you dismissed me from the room as if I were a servant.”

  “Ella, I did no such thing.” Her mother laughed lightly as if to cover up for her crime.

  “That is
exactly what you did. You sent me from the room in such an obvious and shameful manner that the Duke could not think anything other than I had been dismissed. Not only did you embarrass me, Mother, but you embarrassed yourself.”

  “I will not be spoken to like that, young lady.”

  “And is that it? Is that all you have in response to my accusation? Presumably, you have no plausible explanation for your appalling actions?”

  “ My actions were not appalling, my dear. But your own, on the other hand …”