by Alanna Lucas
In the quiet of his rooms later, he would question his sanity. He’d bedded his fair share of women since the betrayal but had insisted on no kissing. What was it about her that he could not resist? Was it duty that dictated the survival of the dukedom, or something deeper?
Reality fought its way through the moonlit haze of desire. He rested his forehead against hers. “You should return before someone notices.” Lovely blue eyes searched his, the unspoken question lingering on her lips. “I will join you for the unmasking.”
Her smile touched every inch of his body. “I’m enjoying the evening much more, thank you.”
“It has been my pleasure,” he said before brushing another soft kiss across her lips.
He watched as she retraced her steps toward the ballroom. Hope continued to surge through his body. Perhaps he could lay the past to rest.
Ten minutes later, he decided enough time had passed to rejoin the throng. He did not want to sully Miss Leybourne’s name with unwarranted gossip. Heaven knew the gossipmongers did not need much to create a stir. He was just on the perimeter of the great hall when the sound of giggles broke his progress.
“I think he will be mine within a fortnight.” A young woman’s voice echoed softly from a dark room. The voice sounded vaguely familiar. He halted just beyond the open door and leaned in to listen more closely.
“Do you really believe that you can seduce him?”
“I have no doubt,” the lady said with a confidence that churned his stomach. But nothing could have prepared him for the words that followed. “I am a Leybourne, after all.”
So that was Miss Leybourne’s intention this evening. She was interested in snaring a duke? The surreal moment they’d shared soured in his gut. Well, she would have to look someplace else. This duke would not fall such antics.
He might have been fooled by her this evening, but never again. He would not, not now. He would not, not ever. Not here in London. Not anywhere.
Never again.
Chapter 2
December 1819
Sequestered in a carriage, trudging along muddy roads was not how she thought she would be spending the festive season. Patience was losing, well…her patience. The journey had started pleasantly enough but quickly turned into one fraught with one problem after another. In all honestly, she was quite surprised her aunt wanted to travel at this time of year. She supposed the timely invitation from Aunt Agnes’s dearest friend to spend Christmas with her at Castle Greystone at least meant a reprieve from all the gossip.
The gossipmongers had been quite ruthless in their speculation as to why Patrick had not attended their younger sister Parnell’s wedding earlier this month, never mind that his wife was due to deliver a baby at any moment. Not to mention that, being a Leybourne, of course there were rumors about how Parnell had seduced and snared the Duke of Bedford. Patience knew better. Both her siblings had married for love, and so would she. But, as of late, she had begun to wonder if she would ever find that special someone. She wanted a love like her parents had, except without all the tragedy.
She inwardly sighed as her stomach turned and knotted. This was to be her first Christmas without her siblings. Family meant everything to her, and now… the heavy ache of more change weighed down on her.
“Are you alright, dearie?”
“I suppose.”
Aunt Agnes raised a delicate grey brow as if not quite believing her before returning to her needlepoint.
“I’m just tired of being trapped in this carriage.” Patience decided to broach another topic that had been on her mind since they’d received the Christmastide invitation from the Dowager Duchess of Greystone. “I still don’t understand why His Grace would not want to spend time with his mother?”
Didn’t he know how precious one’s parents were? How it all could change in the blink of an eye? Painful memories of her mother’s, and then father’s, funerals flashed before her eyes. She could feel the anxiety rise with each breath she took. She swallowed hard, begging the memories to stay down. It was always worse at this time of year. She never talked about those feelings, and she wished to keep it that way.
Not looking up from her mistletoe needlepoint, Aunt Agnes responded without elaboration, “Castle Greystone holds unpleasant memories for His Grace.”
Patience was thankful the elusive Duke of Greystone would not be in attendance this time. He had rarely been seen in polite society, but rumors had swirled about him for years. She wondered if any of them were true. She supposed the part about him running his brother off the estate, wielding a sword, was utter nonsense. But there were so many other tales of mistresses and even one about a fiancée. Despite her aunt’s friendship with the Dowager Duchess, Patience had never met the Duke and hoped to keep it that way.
Pushing the carriage curtain aside, she peered out of the window at the passing countryside. The rain had stopped, and vast patches of blue filled the sky. She lost herself in private thoughts as the dusk sky slowly darkened. Soon, dozens of stars would begin to twinkle. Ever since she was little, twinkling stars had always reminded her of chandeliers in a ballroom. But since Lady Trumble’s ball, they’d reminded her of a perfect dance and a handsome gentleman clad in black with a dark grey mask. His green eyes reminded her of mistletoe leaves. And his kiss…ah, his kiss. The memory of it still sent a delicious shiver down her spine.
Clearly, her feelings were one-sided, which made the sting all that much more hurtful. He’d said he would come to her at the unmasking, but he disappeared. Over the past couple of months, it had become easier to try to convince her heart that she’d conjured up the entire scene, but even she didn’t believe her imagination was that good.
She inhaled deeply.
“Are you certain you’re not taking ill, dearie?”
“No, just tired of being cooped up in the carriage.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t entirely the truth. Her masked gentleman was the current cause of her angst. He’s not yours, nor is he a gentleman, she reminded herself, hoping to ease the ache in her heart.
With a quick glance out the window, Aunt Agnes responded with confidence. “We should be nearing Castle Greystone soon.”
Wanting to avoid further questioning, she turned her attention back to the changing landscape. She hoped the castle would come into view before it got too dark. She had never ventured to this far north before and was fascinated by all that she saw. The vast rolling hills and the abundance of wildlife were all food for her starving imagination.
In the far distance, the castle loomed on the horizon, illuminated by the setting sun behind it. Two large turrets reached up toward the sky. Imagine the views from up there. The walls stood tall and foreboding. A soft giggle escaped her lips.
“What’s so amusing?”
“I was just imagining what dark secrets lurk within the castle walls.”
Aunt Agnes’s wide grin teased from across the seat. “You have quite the imagination, Patience. Perhaps you should spend a little less time reading and more time contemplating your future. I’m not going to be around forever, dearest. One day you will have to marry. The life of a spinster would not suit you.”
That was a sobering thought.
“My imagination makes life interesting.” Patience could not tell her aunt the truth. Her imagination was what had helped her survive the darkest times of life. First, her mother’s illness and death, and then her father’s quick descent into debauchery that had led to his ultimate demise. It was during those dark moments that Patience and Parnell would make up fairytales. She missed her sister. Parnell had always been part of her life. They were practically twins, a year apart to the day. And now, Parnell was married. Tears stung her eyes.
So lost in her thoughts, Patience had not realized that they had turned down the drive and were approaching the front entrance until her aunt whispered, “Castle Greystone.”
They passed through a magnificent stone gate connected to a stone rampart and then passed a gatekeeper’s cotta
ge, which stood as sentinel. It looked like a miniature version of the castle she had spied in the distance just a short time ago. Streaks of waning sunlight cascaded across the land, bringing mystical creatures to life.
It must have been wonderful to grow up amongst such fascination. One would never want to leave such a magical place. She hoped the weather would cooperate, and she would have time to explore the beautiful countryside over the coming fortnight.
After what felt like hours later, they finally arrived at the entrance to the castle. Dark clouds had blanketed the land now, almost extinguishing the moonlight.
The moment the carriage stopped, efficient, liveried footmen clad in green and white readied the steps. A fresh, cool wind whipped through the carriage as the door opened. Aunt Agnes coughed slightly before she pulled her cloak about her frail shoulders and accepted assistance. Patience held her breath as she watched her aunt’s unsteady descent. The journey had taken its toll on her relative. A couple of days rest on solid ground and hopefully the older woman would be back to normal.
The sight of Castle Greystone took her breath away. Stonework stretched up toward the black sky. It must be a hundred feet high. She had seen impressive homes before, but none that had compared to this.
They were quickly ushered into the entry hall where they were greeted by the Dowager Duchess.
“At long last. I feared something ill might have happened.” Her Grace embraced Aunt Agnes, and then turned her attention to Patience. “I am so pleased you were able to accompany your aunt, Miss Leybourne.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” It had been a couple of months since she had last seen the Dowager Duchess at Lady Trumble’s ball, but she seemed to have aged in those months. Worry and sadness creased the delicate skin around her eyes.
“You must be tired from your journey. After you settle, we will dine.” Her Grace’s tone was warm and welcoming.
Patience followed behind at a snail’s pace. If she was in awe of the outside of Castle Greystone, no words known could describe the impressive interior with its high ceilings, exquisite artwork, and colorful tapestries. It was grand and filled with wondrous treasures, but it was more than that; despite all the grandeur, it felt like a home.
After getting settled and changing out of their traveling clothes, Patience and Aunt Agnes were shown to the dining room.
“We need not stand on ceremony,” Her Grace said as they entered yet another opulent room decorated in deep green and gold. “Dinner will be informal this evening.”
Even the food smelled more extravagant in the country.
Too enthralled with the duck and mushroom sauce, Patience was not able to say two words during the second course. By the time dessert arrived, she was certain that Her Grace must think her mute.
“And what traditions do you enjoy during Christmastide, Miss Leybourne?”
Before her siblings had gone off and married? She inwardly sighed.
“Spending time with my family.”
“I would have to agree.”
The sadness in the Dowager’s voice nearly broke Patience’s heart and before she could stop herself the words started pouring out. “I cannot fathom why your son does not see it as essential that he should spend time with you during the Yuletide.” Aunt Agnes gave Patience an astonished glare and looked as if she were about to deliver a scolding. Heat inflamed Patience’s cheeks. Before the situation worsened, she corrected herself. “I apologize, Your Grace. I should not have been so carefree with my words. Sometimes I say things before I think if they are proper or not.”
Her Grace’s warm smile eased her embarrassment a little. “You do not need to apologize. You are quite right.” She let out a long, almost painful sigh. “Ever since my younger son ran off, Greystone has not been the same. Arthur has been dead four years and things still have not improved.”
Patience did not want to press the topic any more than she had already. As it was, she knew she would be receiving a lecture from her aunt about proper etiquette, especially in the presence of the Dowager Duchess. Somehow, she managed to keep her thoughts to herself through the rest of the dessert course. She owed that monumental feat to the sugared almonds. Never in her life had she tasted anything so decadent.
The evening greatly improved when Her Grace offered to take Patience and Aunt Agnes on a little tour of the house, informing them that, on the morrow, she would show them the sculpture gallery.
Patience fell behind, admiring a beautiful tapestry that encompassed an entire wall, edge to edge and floor to ceiling. Even in the candlelight, it was magnificent. She leaned to take a closer look at the intricate details.
A blue and gold intertwined rope framed the magnificent tapestry. In the foreground, an elegantly dressed lady sat perched atop a white horse. Several playful dogs pranced in the lush surrounding vegetation. In the distance, set against the rolling green countryside, was a castle quite similar to Castle Greystone, or at least some medieval version of it.
“It is one of my favorite pieces in the house,” the Dowager Duchess’s sweet voice said over Patience’s shoulder.
“It is breathtaking.” Patience fought every urge not to reach out and touch the beautiful horse.
“When I was first brought here as a bride, my husband would tease me, saying that I spent more time admiring that tapestry than I did him.”
A giggle escaped Patience’s lips. “I would’ve been accused of the same. You have such a wonderful collection, I can imagine it would be difficult not to get distracted while seeing to your duties.”
“I remember my first visit to the castle.” Aunt Agnes’s eyes sparkled with a youthful mischievousness of years gone by. “The hedge maze was what kept me in awe. On more than one occasion, Clarice and I got quite lost in that maze.”
“You have a hedge maze?” Patience’s excitement echoed off the walls. She’d only ever read about them, but would very much enjoying exploring one, setting her imagination free.
“If weather permits, we can take a turn in the grounds tomorrow.”
“That’s very kind of you, Your Grace.” Patience was not expecting to be entertained by the Dowager Duchess during her stay. Her only purpose in coming to Castle Greystone was to be near her aunt during the Christmas season.
“Do you…” Aunt Agnes’s words trailed off as she succumbed to a series of little coughs.
“Are you unwell, Aunt Agnes?” Patience rushed to her relative’s side and placed her hand on the older woman’s forehead. “You feel quite warm.”
Aunt Agnes pulled a delicate white handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her face. “I feel quite tired, but then again I suppose I’m not used to traveling.”
That was exactly how it had begun with Mother. For days she’d complained about fatigue and then…
Panic coursed through Patience’s veins. “We should send for a doctor or—”
Her Grace began to step away, speaking over her shoulder. “I’ll have Boris go for—”
“No,” her aunt waved her hand. “I’m just a little tired, nothing more.” She offered a smile that Patience assumed was supposed to put her at ease. “Nothing that a night of rest won’t cure.”
“But…if you are unwell, it could be more than just fatigue.”
“Agnes,” Her Grace began in an informal, yet firm tone, “Please, it’s no trouble at all.”
“Listen to the two of you fussing over me. I am not on my deathbed, just tired after the lengthy journey.”
“Very well, we will let you rest.” Patience bent and kissed Aunt Agnes’s forehead. The spicy scent of carnation filled her nostrils as tears threatened to spill.
“You have to promise me that the moment you feel any worse, you will allow me to send for a doctor,” Her Grace insisted.
Aunt Agnes offered a sweet smile. “I promise. Now, I think it past time for me to retire.”
Chapter 3
After checking on her still-sleeping aunt in the morning, Patience joined Her Grace for a tour o
f the hedge maze. But no sooner had they ventured outside than the rain descended on them in heavy sheets and they were forced to retreat. Her Grace altered their plans, giving Patience a thorough tour of the house, sharing stories, showing hidden treasures and secret passageways. They spent a most enjoyable three hours in each other’s company.
They entered what once was the Great Hall in the medieval part of the castle, but now looked like a wing at the new British Museum. Pride filled Her Grace’s voice, “This is my favorite room of the house.”
Crisp white marble statues filled the half-dozen niches, several large, sparkling chandeliers hung from the white coffered ceiling, and huge, intricate tapestries filled the spaces between the tall white fluted columns. Elegantly upholstered settees were strategically placed to maximize one’s viewing pleasure of the fine display of artwork and sculptures.
Patience could hardly wait. It was Christmas Eve; decorations would soon be hung and the Yule log lit. Her excitement spilled over into words. “This room will look splendid once it’s decorated with greenery and red ribbon.”
No sooner had the words left Patience’s mouth than the Dowager Duchess’s face sagged with sadness, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
“I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have presumed…What I meant to say….” Patience knew she sounded like a simpleton, but she could not seem to form the words for a suitable apology. She really did need to control her thoughts and speech.
“You have nothing to apologize for.” Shaking her head, grief marred the Dowager’s features. “It has been years since this house has had the joy of being decorated for Christmastide. Not since…” Her Grace inhaled deeply before clearing her throat. “And besides, my son—”
After scolding Patience for her inappropriate comment during dinner last night, Aunt Agnes had shared just a little of Her Grace’s life, and why sadness always seemed to be lingering in her eyes. She’d had a fairytale wedding, married a man she’d adored, and who’d adored her even more in return. Two sons had completed their family, but jealousy and a fallacious acceptance of a betrothal changed everything.