Regency Romance Collection

by Bridget Barton

  “Ah, Samuel,” greeted the Earl with a smile, “Enjoying your stay?”

  “Can’t say I’m not, sir,” said Samuel smiling back, “but is it time, My Lord? To move against that rake of a Duke?”

  “Patience, my friend, patience,” drawled the Earl. “All in due time. Right now, I need you to go to the barracks and find one George Ernest. Tell him that I demand his presence at once. Also, drop by the armoury. See if there are enough swords and shields and lances to arm five hundred men.”

  “Five hundred men, My Lord?” asked Samuel. “Seems as if you be planning to march on Northumberland itself.”

  “That is precisely what I plan to do,” hissed the Earl, a menacing smile forming slowly across his face.

  Chapter 12

  “Is something the matter, Edmund?” asked Abigail as she slipped into her nightgown. “You seem rather distracted.”

  The Duke paused, “’Tis be nothing, my beloved,” he said, giving his wife a smile, “thy beauty is a bit too mesmerising, that’s all.”

  “Aye, and I also happen to be the queen of the world,” she retorted.

  “You are the queen of my world, Abigail,” said the Duke, walking up to her and pulling her into his arms.

  “Are you sure there is nothing that ails you, my Duke?” she asked, looking up into his eyes.

  “Aye, I be sure,” he replied. The Duke had decided to withhold the news of the war until the next morning. He hoped that he could have one more night with the love of his life without a sword of dread hanging over their bed. He would tell her on the morrow and leave the same day. However, the worry and unrest were plain in his eyes for one such as Abigail. Abigail, who knew him better than he did so himself. Nothing could be hidden from her for long, but he would not have her fretting over the matter any more than she should have to.

  “Let us go to bed, my love,” he said, pulling her towards the royal four-poster in the centre of their chamber.

  The two walked slowly to bed and tumbled onto it, entwined with each other. The Duke held her close as he closed his eyes, hoping for a good night’s rest before he would be deprived of it in the field.

  “You shall have to tell me what it is that bothers you first thing tomorrow morning,” Abigail whispered to him through the darkness.

  “Aye, I shall,” he said, chuckling as he held her even closer to him.

  As the morning rays sneaked their way into their chambers, Abigail slowly rubbed her eyes to consciousness and mindlessly leaned over to caress her husband, only to realise that her hand had landed on a bare bed. She suddenly roused and looked around to find the Duke standing next to the jarring window, silently gazing towards their land, or perhaps into the void.

  “It’s not too often that a man as vigilant as yourself is found engaged in idleness,” Abigail remarked with a laugh.

  “You’re up, my darling? It’s perhaps too early. Was it the sunlight? Oh, how mindless of me to opened the …”

  “My dear, Edmund, I roused early because I slept well. You’ve gained expertise in needless concerning,” she remarked amusingly again.

  The Duke smiled and walked over to his wife who seemed to him more radiant than the brightest morning. “I happened to have learnt the invaluable lesson of caring for those I love,” he responded, smiling at her.

  “But come now, My Lord, I believe we have something more serious to be devoting our conversation to. You gave me your word, and the morning demands your confession.”

  The Duke’s head hung gently as he gathered the strength to inform his wife of the unfortunate proceedings of the previous night. But he did so gallantly, narrating the entire tale as it was, from Tobias’ arrival to the arrangements that the two men had privately agreed upon.

  “I am compelled beyond my desire and even my will. Lord Wellington’s untimely injury will weigh heavily on my domestic affairs. I find it easier to entrust all my holdings and estate with another than to entrust you. Particularly when you perhaps need me more than you ever could. Your reluctance with your health worries me beyond comprehension, yet I find myself shackled by the Royal decree.”

  Duke Edmund watched closely, yet silently, as Abigail took her time comprehending the grave news. Her head hanging low, she slowly reached out for the Duke’s hand and held it in her own. Traces of tears glistened on her cheeks by the time she lifted her head and her gaze met directly with the Duke’s.

  “The service to the land comes before all other services. We shall be able to endure your absence, but the Kingdom will be able to bear no such burden. We shall await your return with pride.”

  Abigail had let these words out with careful deliberation, careful not to increase the pain of the parting on her husband who was already immensely grieved by it. Her words lifted his spirits as her own heart sank with dread.

  Chapter 13

  Pip watched from atop a wall as the Duke assembled his men in Northumberland’s courtyard. He had not been told much except that the Duke had to leave for the coast of the English channel because of some war with France. Pip had always thought France was closer towards India, but he had been told otherwise by Mr Tobias.

  “Where be Jed,” called out Tobias Harding, who was preoccupied with the task of getting the two hundred and fifty men accompanying the Duke into two single files so they could march out.

  Pip immediately jumped down from the wall and approached the man. Tobias had a look of deep-set worry in his eyes; however, he refused to show it. Pip knew that Tobias was a man who would never panic, even when faced with the direst of situations; or at least he would not let others see him panic. He would maintain a calm and contained expression and do his best at handling the situation. Pip had tremendous respect and admiration for the man.

  “He be in the stables getting fresh stirrups for his horse, Mr Tobias,” he said, tugging at Tobias’s tunic. “Shall I fetch him?”

  “Aye, Pip,” said the man, gratitude flushing his face, “I shall remember to get you two bottles of marmalade the next time I visit the city, my boy.”

  Pip nodded, delighted and ran off towards the stables. Vaulting over a wall, he took a shortcut through the castle’s orchard. Under one tree, he saw one of the day guards, Harrison, in a tight embrace with the Duchess’s chambermaid. He had heard tales of their newly budding romance in the kitchens and from Nurse Daisy. Harrison was obviously accompanying the Duke to the channel, and so Pip decided not to interrupt their valediction and continued towards the stables. Vaulting effortlessly over another wall, he landed right in front of Jed himself, who was rushing towards the courtyard, a pair of stirrups around his shoulders.

  “Hurry now, Mr Jed,” said Pip. “Mr Tobias be looking for you.”

  “Aye, Pip,” the man panted, “I be going there right now.” With that, the man broke into a brisk walk.

  Pip watched him go and then proceeded to return to the courtyard himself through the orchard. This time, he did not see Harrison. The chambermaid, however, was still under the same tree, quietly weeping to herself. War was a terrible thing, Pip decided. It caused families to break, lovers to part, and innocents to die. It was almost as bad as the famine. Even his own Duke and Duchess had had a hard time parting earlier that morning. The Duke had called for Pip in his study while he prepared to leave.

  “Now you take care of your Duchess, Pip,” he had said. “You are to stay out her chamber’s doors at all times, you understand?”

  “Aye, sire,” Pip had replied with a salute.

  “Watch out for her, my boy,” the Duke had said softly, placing a hand on his head. “Let no harm come to her. You do that for me, boy.”

  “Of course, My Lord.”

  “Good lad.”

  And that had been it. He had not seen the Duke since, except from afar as he hastily prepared for his departure. Returning to the courtyard, he walked up to Tobias who was busy checking a carriage filled with supplies and armour.

  “He be on his way, Mr Tobias,” he said.

  �
��Good job, my boy,” he replied, without looking up from a long list of items in his hands.

  Pip wandered off, not wanting to be a source of hindrance for Tobias. He saw Harrison standing next to his horse, his eyes looking red and puffier than usual. Pip sighed to himself. He knew naught of the purpose or reasons behind war, but he knew that he despised it. Just then, a lone rider rode in through the open gates of the castle. He carried the Crown’s standard. Pip immediately knew that it was a messenger from the city of London. All the soldiers in the courtyard looked at the messenger who approached Mort, the old gatekeeper, handed him a piece of parchment, and rode off. Mort immediately took the letter to Tobias who read it through once, quickly. A look of dread suddenly crossed his face as he clutched the letter. Looking up, he marched briskly towards the castle door. Pip decided to follow him. A bit out of curiosity, but mostly out of a strong feeling of duty. He was, of course, a messenger.

  However, he could not catch up to the man who had marched straight up the stairs and reached the Duke’s chambers before Pip had even managed to climb the stairs. Pip reached the corridor leading up to the Duke’s chamber and found his master deep in conversation with Tobias.

  “How could he be dead?” asked the Duke, “you met him that same morning, did you not?”

  “Aye, My Lord,” said Tobias, “I did. Right before Harold Blakemore.”

  “You’re not suggesting that Harold …” said the Duke, looking baffled.

  “I am, My Lord.”

  “You suspect poison?”

  “Aye.”

  “Something that a snake like Harold Blakemore would have no problem with,” muttered the Duke, clenching his fists. “I do not like this, Tobias. I do not like this at all. How can I leave my wife, my home when such treachery takes place in the capital city itself. No one is safe, Tobias,” the Duke began bellowing with fluster.

  “Calm yourself, My Lord,” said Tobias, putting a gentle hand on the Duke’s arm. “No harm shall ever come to the lady; I swear it on my honour.”

  The Duke seemed to be deep in thought. “How long will it take for you to ride to London and back, Tobias?”

  “A day and night, My Lord,” said Tobias.

  “Go now, then, my friend,” said the Duke, solemnly.

  “But the castle, My Lord?” inquired Tobias, puzzled.

  “The castle can stand a day without you, Tobias. We need to get to the bottom of this. I need you to ride to London, Tobias. As fast as you can.”

  “Aye, My Lord. I shall leave this instant,” muttered Tobias and darted off.

  Pip stood there and shuddered. Someone was dead in the city, and some Lord Harold was behind it. Pip did not understand the situation completely, but he shook with fear. Dread filled the air as uncertainty lurked unleashed.

  Chapter 14

  “Ye will find yourself immensely rewarded or otherwise magnanimously punished based on what you may say next, Samuel. Be very wise,” the Earl mused as he paced back and forth.

  Samuel had been very sure of the Earl’s dependence on him and his services, but he could feel his own belief in his importance dwindling. Samuel, as much as he hated to admit, felt threatened, and the dignity that had been so graciously conferred upon him robbed with just one statement. Reduced to an ordinary servant as he was, he replied accordingly.

  “Sire, I arrive with news of considerable strategic importance. I have fulfilled the task that had been required of me to the best of my humble abilities. If you be kind enough to offer you my patience, I shall narrate it to you just as it happened.”

  “Very well, then.”

  “It was well before noon when I arrived at the Duke’s estate. Long years of loyal service to the house of Aldrich has often made me part of such schemes as this where my tasks are of a secretive nature. ’Tis why I was aware of …”

  “I have not called upon your services to receive nonsense. Tell me what is of value and waste no more of my valuable time,” the Earl growled indignantly.

  Samuel, averted by the crude behaviour of his lord, felt used, and fearing for his own safety, continued with the tales of his endeavours.

  “Peeping through a hole in the fencing wall of the front yard covered well by bushes and safe from the eyes of the guards, I witnessed not one but two partings that you may be pleased to hear of. Before the Duke could leave the castle for his journey towards the channel, I caught sight of Tobias departing and happened to faintly overhear his conversation with the man at the gate, Mont, I believe. He claimed to be departing for London, as far as I heard.

  “The premises remained silent until the sun was at its highest point at noon; the guards from the entire palace began assembling in the front courtyard, with their wretched displays of unnecessary emotion. My vision being limited from the peephole, I cannot provide Sire with an accurate count, but I do believe it was close to five hundred men, perhaps the entire royal guard present at the castle itself, with the exception of a mere hundred men or so.

  “The Duke himself appeared with perplexity and concern on his visage. He was armed, perhaps to proceed straight to the battlefield. It was curious that the wretched wench … the Duchess, pardon me … did not bid him farewell as per custom. She made no appearance in the courtyard, and it was a young servant who helped him with his departure. The men noticed it too. There was word circulating about why the Lady remained in her chambers and did not bid him adieu, as per her responsibility as a dutiful wife. The Duke called it upon himself having married a servant girl with no refinement. Pardon me, Lord, I deviate again.

  “The castle remained silent until the sun began to decline after which a single guard began his evening round, instead of the normal dozen of them. Having waited longer and seeing no more signs of any significant movements, I carefully departed from the position I was stationed at, ensuring I was entirely out of sight. That is all there is to the tale and matter, My Lord.”

  “Very well, then,” the Earl replied, evidently lost deep in thought, his conniving mind brewing up a new plot of evil with the invaluable information that he had just laid his hands upon.

  Samuel reluctantly bowed courteously and departed the room with a persistent feeling of degradation.

  Chapter 15

  “And lastly, we lost another three men today,” said Captain Bard Roper of the Royal army.

  He rolled up the piece of parchment he was reading from and looked up at the man lying in a cot before him. Lord Wellington had insisted that he be given reports of the workings of the battlefield twice every day, once at noon and once at midnight. He was a good commander, having won battles against the French in Indonesia, India, and the Strait of Panama. Lord Wellington had been leading the regiment on the channel against the French with much valour and courage, always leading the men, charging in on his horse before anyone else had even had the time to load their bayonets. However, his horse had taken a pellet in its leg and had toppled over, burying Lord Wellington underneath itself. The wretched horse had left the Lord with two broken ribs, but otherwise unharmed.

  “Three men?” asked the Lord, “Pray tell me, Captain, when did the ruddy French get so good in guerrilla warfare?”

  “My Lord …” began Captain Bard, but the Lord held up a single hand to silence him.

  “The answer, my good man, is that they didn’t,” said Wellington. “Who was on guard this morning, Captain?”

  “Five lads from the fifth company.”

  “Have them all flogged ten times each,” he said through gritted teeth, “They have been sleeping on the job.”

  “Aye, My Lord.”

  “And the Duke of Northumberland is to be arriving today,” he continued, “keep an eye out for him, Captain. And bring him straight to me when he arrives.”

  “Of course,” said Bard and ducked out of the Lord’s tent.

  The dull glow of the winter sun gave the place a hazy look. Even though they had camped two leagues to the west of the channel, Bard could still smell the brine in the air.
He sighed, looking out towards the horizon. It had been a long and treacherous war, with one battle after the other. The French would not relent, sending men to cross the channel day and night. Of course, the low tide made it a lot worse. Men could practically wade through the waters of the channel. However, considering the cold, they preferred to use horses.

  Just then, a rider approached the captain. “Captain Bard, a cavalry approaches from the west, flying banners of the house Northumberland,” he said.