Regency Romance Collection

by Bridget Barton

  The grim, solemn look on his face remained until he finally broke the anticipating silence, “Some losses are irrevocable and undoable, my boy, and the pain of them will stay with us forever. No words will ever be enough to take the hurt away, and we will all just have to learn to live with the loss, but you have no cause or reason to feel alone. You are not without support or love. Your Lord and Lady shall be your staunch support. We shall never be able to replace the love of a parent, but you will have the same care. It is now your duty, boy, to work harder than ever and do your father and his memories proud. Your father died valiantly in service, and it is you who must carry on his legacy.”

  Pip began crying ceaselessly as hiccups hindered his speech, “I …I shall forever … ever … be indebted to y-y-you my Lord and Lady.” Abigail’s gentle hand ruffled his hair, her face, too, distraught with concern.

  “Now, now my boy,” the Duke’s voice cut across the silence again, “grab a hold of yourself. Go get yourself some supper, lad, eat well, and retire for the night. The rest will do you good.”

  Pip nervously arose and bowed courteously to his Lord and Lady before allowing himself out of their chambers and towards the pantry.

  “My heart aches for the little boy,” began Abigail as she walked over towards the Duke. He too arose and gently embraced her.

  “It has been quite unfortunate all that has taken place in the estate since my departure. But I thank the heavens for your safety, my dear Abigail. All will be well now.”

  Abigail looked up towards him, her eyes glistening with dread and concern. “I fear that will not be so, My Lord.”

  “I am not sure what you mean. The danger from the Earl has been averted.”

  “I pray to the heavens that be so, My Lord. But the Earl had conspicuously claimed he had plans far greater than those of capturing land. I fear what he may do in the future.”

  “He is capable of naught. His plans will rot with him behind the bars of justice.”

  “It is not just he who poses a threat to my tranquillity, My Lord, but the consequences of your actions, too, leave me apprehensive. You have abandoned your position at the channel, and the Prince Regent will hold you in question for transgressing orders. I fear what will befall you, My Lord and whether your services towards your household that have caused you to compromise on your services to the Crown will become the source of your deposement.”

  “Fear nothing, my fair Lady. The Lords and the Crown can be adequately convinced of the necessity of the situation, and even if trouble befalls, I will endure contently for I have done the duties that were most needed of me. Come now. Let us retire for the night. The events of our parting have convinced me that I must now stay closer to you than ever.”

  “My Lord, your love has been my greatest support and will always remain so,” Abigail whispered as they made their way into bed, unwilling to pull away from their embrace.

  Book 4

  Introduction

  Abigail could not help but worry endlessly about Edmund. She watched him and Tobias trot off towards the capital city from the window of her chambers. She worried that the Duke would have to face serious repercussions for what he had done. He had abandoned his post and had thus broken a royal decree and disobeyed the crown’s orders. For a common soldier, that meant he would go straight to the gallows. Edmund’s high status might protect him from such a fate but there would definitely be a heavy penalty. She had expressed her concerns to the Duke as well, just before he had left.

  The final chapter of Abigail’s story unveils as the Duke receives a summons to London to answer for his crimes. That coming right after the release of Earl Harold Balkemore. After just a fortnight of tranquility, Abigail and Edmund find themselves in the middle of a conspiracy that may threaten the whole Kingdom of Britain.

  Chapter 1

  Duke Edmund of Northumberland stood in the window of his study, looking into the distance. He held a smoking pipe in his hand as he watched the sun slowly disappear over the horizon. Bringing the pipe to his lips, he took a long drag of the burning tobacco before blowing it out aggressively. Just then, there was a knock on the doors of his study.

  “About time,” he muttered to himself before turning around and walking to his desk. “Enter!” he called.

  The door immediately swung open, and Tobias Harding stepped into the room. Tobias was his trusted advisor and friend, often taking charge of things that were the Duke’s responsibility. He looked flustered and weary, much older than his age of five and thirty, with thinning temples and hair turning white at the roots.

  “You summoned me, My Lord?” he asked.

  “This morning, perhaps,” said the Duke curtly, “you’re late Tobias.”

  “Only because I was dealing with the bills for that massive shipment of tobacco you ordered, Edmund,” said Tobias irritably, “you’re smoking a lot of it these days.”

  “Only because I have a reason to,” snapped the Duke, putting down his pipe.

  “What’s wrong, My Lord?” asked Tobias. “Something has you very restless.”

  “Aye,” said the Duke, massaging his temples, “Read that,” he said, beckoning to a piece of parchment on his table, “came from London this morning.”

  Apprehensively, Tobias stepped forward and picked up the paper. Stepping into the candlelight, he held the paper to his face and read through it quickly. “How can this be?” he muttered to himself, putting the parchment down.

  The Duke looked at his face, which had gone white after reading the message, chuckled tauntingly and slid him the still smoking pipe. “You might need this,” he said, walking back to the window.

  “Edmund, what is wrong with you?” muttered Tobias angrily, “That criminal of an Earl, Harold Blakemore, released with all charges dropped within two weeks? That is no laughing matter!”

  “Aye, my friend. It is not,” said the Duke without looking at him, “but this is.” The Duke turned around and held out another parchment with the official seal that he had taken out of his pocket, “Royal order from the Palace of Westminster. The House of Lords has summoned me to answer for my crimes,” he said with a grim smile.

  “Crimes?” exclaimed Tobias, “what crimes?” He grabbed the letter from the Duke’s hand and read it through carefully. After a while, he put it down on the table with shaking hands and grabbed the pipe before collapsing into a chair. He took quick drags from the pipe while the Duke watched him patiently.

  With a trembling voice, Tobias finally spoke, “The House, how could the House stand for this? This is preposterous. To address a Duke in such a manner. And to address the Duke of Northumberland in this manner.One of the oldest titles in the whole kingdom. What is the meaning of this?” He looked up at Edmund, his face filled with dread.

  “Heaven knows, my friend,” said the Duke, reaching out for his pipe, “but we must leave for London on the morrow, or I risk the chance of being stripped …”

  “Being stripped of all your lands and titles,” interrupted Tobias, taking another drag of the pipe as he waved away the Duke’s outstretched hand. “I read the letter too, Edmund. What are these crimes that you have been called to answer for?”

  “I deserted the Royal Army at the channel. By law, I disobeyed a Royal decree. That is only next to treason, Tobias,” said the Duke with a shrug.

  “We will get to the bottom of this,” muttered Tobias, “I am certain that that wretched Earl had a major hand in this treachery.”

  “Nothing is certain, Tobias,” said the Duke solemnly, “now if you would give me my pipe back …”

  Tobias got up and handed the Duke the pipe. “I will go and prepare for the trip that is to be made. And pray that all goes well.” Tobias turned around and walked towards the door, “Be sure to inform the Duchess about the situation, My Lord. She would like to know.”

  “Of course,” said the Duke, “And Tobias?” Tobias paused at the door, looking back at the Duke.

  “What is it?”

  “One t
hing most definitely is certain, my friend,” said the Duke with a grin, “we need to get you a pipe.”

  Chapter 2

  Harold Blakemore marched down the hallway of Westminster Palace, smiling to himself. A scrawny messenger boy crossed him hastily, going in the opposite direction. Harold loved this fear he commanded from the people around him. They trembled at the sight of him, looked down when he walked in front of them, cowered in fear at a single glance of his. He had power over each and every one of them. The thought made him extremely content. He enjoyed power. In fact, he adored it. Approaching a set of doors, he knocked once and entered the room. In the centre, stood an exquisitely dressed man, holding a chalice of wine.

  “Ah, Harold,” he said, turning around to face him, “I’ve been expecting you. Have a seat.”

  “Thank you, Lord Walder,” said Harold graciously as he walked towards the chair that the Lord was beckoning to. He despised having to refer to anyone by the honorific “Lord”, but he knew of Walder. The man would never stand for any insult to his pride, and Harold needed him. He, too, was powerful. People feared him, and so they followed him.

  “I see that your nose injury has healed well,” said the Lord.

  “Not well enough, My Lord,” said the Earl, tracing a finger down the hook of his nose that now leaned a bit to the left of his face at the tip. He cursed the Duke for this flaw on his handsome face. This was the result of the Duke taking a fist to his face when he had surrendered the castle of Northumberland to him.

  “Now, Harold,” began Lord Walder, “I sent out the Royal decree just this morning, summoning Duke Edmund Arundell to court.”

  “That is great news, My Lord,” said Harold. “Hopefully, all will go as planned.”

  “It will, it will,” said the Lord, waving a hand in dismissal, “but there is something I have to discuss with you first.”

  “What may that be, My Lord?”

  “Well, you see Harold,” said the Lord, “The House of Lords is extremely powerful in this kingdom; however, we are accountable to the crown. Now what you ask for the house to do is highly questionable. It can be done, son, but it is costly business.”

  “My Lord, you have stated the cost before, and I’ve agreed to pay that cost.” Harold smiled dangerously, “Surely you do not suggest a change in our agreement? That would be downright dishonourable.”

  “Of course not, my dear boy,” said the Lord, wetting his lips with his tongue, “the right and honourable Lords of the House do value their word. However, it is the problem of some who do not see things as we do. Some who would ask around, inquiring about the sudden death of good old Stokeworth. Some who would question some decisions that we made regarding your sentence. We need some security to nullify that situation, you see?”

  “I see, My Lord,” said Harold, “but I have other ways of securing my position.” The Earl smiled. “As the dearly departed Lord Stokeworth would tell you.”

  The Lord’s face immediately hardened, “Are you suggesting, boy…”

  “I am suggesting nothing, My Lord,” said Harold, getting up. “You shall have your security. Just have the job done.”

  With that, the Earl marched off, a dignified and angry expression on his face. He despised how he was dependent on dogs like Lord Walder to get his way. One day, he would have it all, he thought, and he wouldn’t have to be dependent on people like him anymore.

  Harold despised the House of Lords. For him, it was nothing more than a meaningless gathering of corrupt old men who wanted nothing but more gold in their pockets. The power of the House was overshadowed by no one else but the crown, and with the political instability of the Regency, the House was the supreme ruling body of the Kingdom. Of course those old crooks would take advantage of that, but Harold was no fool. He would have his slice of the cake as well.

  Chapter 3

  Abigail went around lighting the candles around her chambers, humming to herself as darkness fell on the countryside. She hadn’t seen the Duke all day; he had been in his study ever since Pip had brought those two letters from the capital that morning. Edmund had insisted on taking his meals in the study as well. As far as she knew, the only person he had actually interacted with was Tobias. She had run into the Duke’s trusted advisor in the hall as he hurried away from the study after his audience with Edmund.

  “Tobias,” she had called to him, “What in heaven’s is the matter? I have seen not of my husband all day.”

  “My Lady,” he had replied solemnly, greeting her with a bow, “your Lord husband will surely inform you of the matters of the castle. I am in no place to.”

  Abigail had sighed, “You have nothing for me, Tobias?”

  “Nothing but prayers, loyalty, and devotion.”

  “Bah!” she had exclaimed in frustration, “Ye be loyal to Edmund, Tobias, not to me.”

  “Is it any different, My Lady?” he had asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

  Abigail had glared at him with annoyance, finally breaking into a smile herself. “On your way, then, sir. Surely I’m holding you back from some important matters you have to attend to that I have no knowledge of.”

  “Surely,” he had chuckled and walked away, leaving Abigail to stare after him. What was it that Edmund was hiding from her? she had wondered.

  Now she waited for him to retire to their chambers for the night so she could finally question him on what it was that had locked him up in his study all day. The anticipation had been gnawing at her up from the inside, making her feel nauseous and drained. Or was that just the baby she carried inside her? she thought as she ran her hands down her navel, feeling the slight bulge in her belly.

  Just then, the doors of the chamber lightly fell open. Abigail turned around to see Edmund standing in the doorway. She couldn’t see his face as it was shrouded in the darkness of the dimly lit chamber. As he approached and took her into his arms, she could see the worry and fatigue in his eyes.

  “Why are you lighting the candles yourself, my dear?” he asked, planting a light kiss on her forehead. “Where be the ruddy chambermaid?”

  “The ruddy chambermaid be downstairs fetching water for the bed warmers,” she said coyly. “Surely you would know that if you weren’t shut up in your study all day, Edmund.”

  “Aye, I would,” he said, pulling away from her, “but no need to taunt, my lady. I was not there out of my free will.”

  “Of course you weren’t,” she said, gently guiding him to the four-poster they shared. Sitting him down, she proceeded to pour him a cup of mulled wine. “What was it that kept you, Edmund?” she asked, handing him the cup.

  “Trouble,” he said grimly, taking a long sip from the cup.

  “What kind of trouble?” she asked, clasping his hand in her own as she sat down next to him.

  “’Tis what you feared, Abigail,” he said, regarding her with a tragic look in his eyes. “They have called me to court for abandoning my post at the channel a fortnight ago.”

  “I would be lying if I said I didn’t expect this to happen, My Lord,” said Abigail with a sigh, “but I’m sure it will turn out well, Edmund. You have friends in the House.”

  “I thought I did, Abigail,” said the Duke, “but there is other news.”

  “What may that be?” she asked, squeezing his hand.

  “That murderer of an Earl, Harold, was released. All charges dropped,” said the Duke in a defeated tone.

  “Edmund!” exclaimed Abigail, grabbing her head in exasperation. “How can this be?”

  “Tobias reckons the House favours the Blakemores.” Edmund took another gulp of wine, “That’s why they sent me to the channel knowing well enough the civil unrest in my countryside.”

  “But that’s criminal, Edmund!” Abigail cried out, “Surely the Crown–”

  “Surely the Crown has enough issues within itself to pay too much close attention to the House of Lords,” said Edmund, gulping down the last of the wine, “God save the Kingdom, Abigail. I pray it surv
ives this Regency.”

  “What is it that Harold Blakemore offers the House for them to abandon their honour and duty?”

  “Treasure. And wine that is free from his poison,” said the Duke, grinning gravely.

  “I pray you would stop speaking in riddles, Edmund. Say it as it is,” exclaimed a frustrated Abigail, squeezing his shoulder.