A Scandalous Love for the Enticing Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Henrietta Harding

  There had been denial. Even after she received that damned forged letter, confessing his guilt and offering a weak apology, she had refused to trust that all of it was true. Then, she began to think of all the times she had begged him to take a stand for them over the years, all the times she had begged him to take her away, only to receive his adamant refusal. These things began to fall into place then, and she easily saw why he would have turned her down so many times, knowing that the disappointment broke her heart each time, and still claimed to love her. It was simply because he never had. All those words whispered in her ears in the still of the night when it had just been the two of them, those professions and vows … they had all been lies. Nothing but lies, and she had simply been nothing but a means to an end.

  The moment that realisation dawned, anger did with it. She had been livid. At that moment, if he had appeared in her presence, she was certain she would have raised her hands to him in a very unladylike manner. But he had not, and she had been unable to go to him. So left to herself, she had burned. Burned until the fever moved from her soul, her heart, her mind, to her entire body. Then, she had taken ill. She knew not which had been more shocking to learn … that he had been conning her father all this while, or that he had a mistress. Whichever it was, it only told her one suddenly glaring truth – he never loved her. As acceptance came, so did the tears, again. They poured, freshly, heavily, seemingly unending. Then, when she had been left with no more strength to hurt, no more water in her eyes to shed, the sobbing ceased.

  As she was nursed back to health by her physician – the kind Mr Knightley, so did she, her heart. Upon receiving the news, she had thought herself lucky that she had Nicholas, that she would marry him, and he would make her happy, kiss her ache away, erase every memory of Alan and replace them with new ones, memories she would cherish for an entire lifetime. However, as her mind’s fog cleared, she saw how foolish she had been in her thinking. Nicholas could not do that to her. Most of all, she could not marry him with an aching heart. A heart which mourned the loss of another man, who despite the cruel betrayal it suffered, still wanted that man. That was when she made the decision. She would tell the truth to her father. She would refuse to marry Nicholas, and she would speak to Alan whenever he deemed fit to step foot in London again. She would look him in the eye and have him tell to her face why he had done this wicked thing to her, when all she had ever done was love him. With that plan hatched, she began to recover in all the innermost places that hurt and as she did, so did her body.

  That was when Eleanor visited and made the shocking revelation. Her sister was in love with Nicholas, and he with her. Oh, but the sheer wonder of it all! She had been flabbergasted. Too astonished to think or say anything. Yet, Agnes saw the spark in Eleanor’s eyes as she spoke of him; she heard the longing in her voice, and she had known right away that it was true. The moment she recovered from her awe, she felt a sudden sense of happiness. Strange, she knew, yet it had been the first true glimpse of sunshine in her otherwise, bleak heart. She instantly saw her grief for the blessing it was, for she never would have gotten that revelation, otherwise. Eleanor loved Nicholas. It explained her sadness, her withdrawal. Nicholas loved Eleanor, it explained all the times Agnes had seen in his eyes that she wasn’t who he wanted. All those looks past her whenever he visited, as though he was searching for something. He had only been searching for Eleanor, who did a great work at evading him. Again, the world shifted and righted on its axis. It was instantly clear what was to be done. She had to make certain that Eleanor and Nicholas ended up together. Only, Isabelle had decided to join in that moment and had made a revelation of her own.

  She could only liken her experience that day to a journey on a carriage, through a road filled with bumps that were her varying emotions. They hit her and jumbled her, tossed her about, as though her comfort meant little. Disbelief, shock, anger. She had felt it all towards her mother. Then finally, as she got herself to see beyond the problem her mother posed, she saw the candle of hope flickering once again, with light. Though she had suffered for nothing, she had only been thrilled to learn that Alan loved her truly and plans were already underway to ensure that they would spend the rest of their lives belonging to one another, as they should.

  Upon Isabelle’s request, she had given her word to keep her calm until all was over. That had been necessary because she had been willing to march to her mother and have a confrontation. However, her dearest sister had pointed out the foolishness in that. All was not over, and the only person who could truly get Victoria to stop, was her father. It was their word against hers. A terribly unfavourable situation. They had to bide their time, and bide their time, they had. For this reason, she had acted like all was well with her mother. Had smiled and engaged in small talk, while she seethed inside with mild anger and an iota of irritation. Only this morning, she had decided to do herself a good deed and let go of every ill feeling, work towards offering the woman she loved, regardless, forgiveness. Then she had gone and locked them up!

  “This is preposterous! Father must learn of this! How could she have done this to us, her own children? How can she have no regard for our happiness, the woman who brought us into this world? Damnation! I cannot get myself to calm.” She was pacing. It was what she did when she was not banging against the door, trying to get Louis to open it. There could only be one person trusted with keeping them locked in. She had not one doubt that it was Louis.

  “Agnes, you must. Please, for the love of God, I cannot claim to understand how you feel but being so riled up is only relinquishing victory to her. Take deep breaths. Unless Louis opens up that door, there is no hope to escape here. We can only wait.”

  Agnes stopped pacing, unable to disregard the voice of reason that was Isabelle’s. Indeed, little else could be done until her mother decided it was time to let her out. For her own benefit, she must seek her calmness. Yielding Isabelle’s advice, she dragged in a lungful of breath and let it out in steady streams. She repeated this twice more, and by the end of the third exhale, she felt better. Her head seemed to have cleared, and she felt a little lighter.

  She looked at her sisters who were looking at her, questions in their eyes. The concern that resided therein also, tugged at her heart, and she found herself giving into a smile as she sighed. Oh, but she adored them, loved them greatly.

  “You were right, Isabelle. I do feel calmer. I thank thee for that.”

  “I am glad you do. Now, please halt your pacing and take your seat; forgive me, but I find it terribly distracting.” Isabelle’s eyes twinkled so that Agnes could not find it in her to pick offence. Not that she ever would have. Nonetheless, she gave into the request and found herself a chair to settle into.

  “At least, we have tea,” Eleanor spoke, finally joining in on the conversation. Her smile dazzled, and Agnes thought of how much a lucky man Nicholas Stamford was. She found solace in the knowledge that he was a noble man by heart. He would certainly do well by her.

  She looked around, and her eyes caught the bowl of biscuits. She got up, retrieved it, and adjusted her chair so that she too would be closer to her sisters, in the camp they had made by the door.

  “We also have biscuits. It is certainly nice to know that we would not starve while in captivity,” she teased, holding up the bowl, a smile in her voice. If her sisters could find humour in this situation, so could she.

  “Ahh. Yes. Beyond that, I reckon Mother would not want to have us starve, either way. Surely, she would have made provisions for our lunch.”

  “I too believe so, Eleanor.” Agnes selected her biscuits and passed the bowl to Isabelle who passed to Eleanor.

  Silence reigned as they chewed their biscuits. Then after a while, Eleanor spoke, breaking the spell.

  “What do you reckon she was thinking? However did she hope to explain this away to Father?”

  It was Isabelle who answered. “I suppose she reckoned that she would exploit us into silence by threatening to
expose the truth to Father. There is no doubt now that Benjamin was right. Somehow, she had learned of our plans and decided to make her moves. She must have believed that we still planned to help Agnes elope today.”

  “And you would have. Thank goodness Benjamin had caught her at that firm yesterday and written immediately. We would have been no wiser.” Agnes knew she would offer her profound gratitude to the Duke and her sister when all of this was over. They deserved that and more. Word from Benjamin had been specially delivered to Isabelle by his footman, who had insisted he would only give the letter to the Lady Isabelle. Her mother had been left with no choice, unwilling to betray what she knew.

  The letter had informed them of his findings at the firm, and his plans to bring their father into this. He had also shared that he would write to Alan and have him know that the plans had changed, the elopement had been placed on hold, and that instead, they would expose her mother’s subterfuges afore anything.

  “Indeed,” Eleanor began. “Now, we can only hope that Father will do the right thing with what he shall learn.”

  “I have cause to believe he shall. I find it a pity that we will not be present to witness Mother’s shock when she finds Father at the firm – or when she realises he knows it all, for that matter.”

  “Aye, Isabelle. That would make quite the sight, would it not?” Agnes paused as she imagined the look of shock her mother would possess in that moment. They had hoped to be present at the firm for that. Unfortunately, they had never imagined that she would lock them in.

  “It certainly would. Nevertheless, all that would matter in truth, is to see both you and Eleanor happy with the men you love.”

  Agnes saw the heat crawl up Eleanor’s cheeks as she gave a shy smile. She was aware that she too wore an identical look. To be married to Alan would be her life’s greatest dream come true.

  “We can never thank you enough, Isabelle. You have made all of this possible. How shall we ever hope to repay you?”

  Isabelle seemed to give it a thought. The moment her eyes began to twinkle, Agnes knew she would utter something completely ridiculous and embarrassing. She did.

  “I want nieces and nephews. Beautiful and handsome, running around your homes when I come to visit, and I shall.”

  Eleanor palmed her face, and Agnes simply gave into fits of laughter as she felt her cheeks grow hotter.

  “You never cease to amaze me, Isabelle,” she said as she recovered.

  “Indeed. I hope never to,” came her sister’s reply, chin proudly in the air.

  Eleanor who seemed to have overcome her embarrassment relieved her hands of their duty. “What about you, Isabelle? You and Benjamin would make beautiful babies, I declare!”

  Agnes gave into another fit of laughter as Isabelle stared daggers at Eleanor. Nonetheless, the pink hue on her cheeks glowed in the noon light. It felt nice to know that Eleanor had repaid her in her coin. She did not know much, but she could tell there was something between Isabelle and the Duke. She certainly was here to see the end of it.

  Isabelle offered no response which was unlike her. Agnes suspected that she could not find the words to say. Instead, she stood and walked over to the doors. Agnes and Eleanor watched her in wonder. She spoke when she finally had her back resting against the sturdy wood.

  “You know what would serve as entertainment, rather than my non-existent interest in Witherspoon?” On cue, Agnes and Eleanor shook their heads, and Isabelle dazzled them with a brilliant smile. Then, she answered her question.

  “Irritating Louis with our noise. I declare, if we made a nuisance by banging on the door and calling out her name, she would be driven to the brink of losing her mind.”

  Hmmm … Agnes thought. Knowing Louis, that would be the ultimate revenge. She was up on her feet the next instant. “I love it!”

  Eleanor joined her. “Indeed. So do I. We shall pound with our fists and holler aloud. That way she would never be able to escape us. I reckon she would have nightmares of it in her sleep.”

  They all giggled, and as Eleanor joined them by the door, they began to bang and shout, engaging in stifled giggles, every now and then.

  Chapter 35

  Life was filled with risks. His father always said so. Business ventures, getting married, becoming a parent, there were always risks involved and many times, one had to take the plunge and simply hope for the best. And if the best didn’t come, then he would at least know that he tried. These were the thoughts Nicholas had in his mind as he found his way to the Birmingham residence. What would society say? To hell with that! What if they ended up miserable? That was the risk he was willing to take. The days were not making it any easier to be without Eleanor. If anything, they were doing the exact opposite. He had given it a lot of thought. This might be a rash deed, but it was no rash decision. Today, he would go to Eleanor and tell her that he was willing to fight for her, to fight for their love. He only needed her to say yes, that she too was willing to fight. That was all he needed to face the world, his parents, her family, the ton. With her hands in his, with her by his side, they would survive whatever backlash would come. They had to. And if they did not, his nights would not be marred by the thought that he never fought for her, never gave them a chance.

  He soon arrived at Birmingham’s residence and alighted from his carriage. He contemplated going up the wall to Eleanor’s chambers, but this was daytime, and he could easily be seen. Beyond that, he had no assurance that she would be in her chambers by this time of the day. The best thing to do was to request to see her, then with permission, he would take her out into the gardens and pour out his heart to her. He was hers, utterly, wholly, and he could never be anyone else’s.

  As he got to the doors, he lifted his hands in a fist, gave three rasp knocks, then waited. When after a while, no response came, he knocked again. This happened three more times, and he instantly got worried. Edward should have appeared at the door after the first two knocks. He was never late for he never slacked in his duties. What could possibly be wrong? Making up his mind, with hope that this would not be considered as an intrusion, he tried to open the door himself. As he bent the handle, the doors came open with a click and opened into an empty hallway. Tentatively, he stepped in and closed the door behind him. The house was unusually quiet, and there was no one running around. He knew someone had to be home, for there was no way they would have left the doors unguarded otherwise. Where was everyone?

  He walked further into the house until he came to stop in front of the staircase that led to their private chambers. For a while, he contemplated going up the stairs but knew that would be taking things too far. It was simply improper, without an invite. Just then, a sound caught his ears, and he stilled, alert, to listen. It came again, and it sounded like fists pounding against a wooden surface or more appropriately, a door. Involuntarily, he found his legs carrying him in the direction of the noise. As he got closer, the sounds became louder. He soon discovered it was coming from the drawing room. Having been here a few times, he knew which corner of the house the drawing room was situated in. Suddenly, Louis appeared in front of him, and he halted.

  Where had she come out from? Looking in the direction from which she came, he sighted a hidden corner where she must have been waiting.

  “Good day. Lord Stamford. Is there any way I can be of help?”

  She sounded prudish, but then, the woman always sounded that way. He had never liked her and truly, it wasn’t hard to see why. She often reminded him of the wicked witch he had read about in several fairy tales.

  “I would hope so. I stayed by the door, knocking for a long while but no one came in response. The door was slightly open, so I took the liberty to let myself in. I hope you do not mind, but I have come to see the Lady …”

  He was not done with his sentence before she cut in, her eyes narrowed, her voice stern. “The ladies have stepped out for more shopping with Her Grace. They will not be returning until later in the evening. I can deliver
any message for you, if you care to leave one behind.”

  Hmmm. That made sense, yet something gnawed at him. The drawing room was just a few feet away now, and although the banging had stopped, he just could not shake off the feeling that something was not right in this household, today. He looked at the door and back at Louis, as if expecting something out of the ordinary to happen. There was also the fact that she stood in his way as if blocking him from going further.