Bewitching the Forbidden Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Scarlett Osborne

  Brynn was already nodding in understanding. “Write your note, I shall take it for you and await a reply. I do not think you should be seen together and I do not know of any place that would be safe to meet.”

  “Perhaps he would know.”

  “Or you could wait until you all adjourn to the country for this hunt and then speak to him.”

  Melissa sighed heavily. “Oh Brynn, I do not know if I can wait that long.”

  Brynn gave her an affectionate smile. “You always were an impatient one. Now come here and let me help you with your buttons. After you’ve taken your gown off, and had a nice soak in the tub, you’ll be nice and calm, ready to write something coherent.”

  Melissa fixed her with a glare. “I am plenty coherent!”

  “Yes, yes,” Brynn said herding her over to the dresser and beginning to undo her hooks, “Of course you are. Now hush and let me get this off.”

  Melissa stood huffily, pouting at Brynn through the looking glass. It was rather a relief not to be confined in her constricting gown so she let Brynn take it off before turning to continue haranguing her.

  “Now, now, your water’s cooling fast even though it’s by the fire. Come and step in the tub,” Brynn said heading her off at the pass, “I’ll just go and fetch you a nice bit of stationery and a pen.”

  Melissa knew she was being placated but still, she went along with Brynn because it was nice that someone cared enough to fuss over her in such a fashion.

  She sank slowly into the steaming water, feeling all the tension in her body seeping out of her. She closed her eyes and sighed, relaxing into the water and letting the steam blow away her worries.

  She did not even notice when Brynn slipped back into the room and placed the sheet of paper on her bedside table, having fallen asleep in the water.

  Patrick startled awake in the middle of the night, in a cold sweat. His heart was racing and he could not seem to draw a deep enough breath. The last vestiges of his dream were already shredding into indecipherable fragments. The feeling they left behind, a frantic worry that something was wrong, stayed lodged right in his throat.

  He got out of bed, his naked body gleaming with sweat. Considering that it was the middle of autumn and his fire had burned low, that was cause for worry. He wondered if he was coming down with the ague but aside from the churning in his belly, he did not feel unwell.

  He reached for his dressing gown, tying it securely around his waist and slipping on his red velvet slippers before heading down to his study. A glass of whiskey seemed imperative to his continued wellbeing. He threw the liquid back, swallowing it in one gulp before pouring himself a second glass.

  Sitting on the settee facing the window, he stared outside at the quiet street, watching as a man, clearly intoxicated, wove his way down the street, cane tapping on the stone walkway.

  Patrick snorted. You’re lucky you weren’t set upon by brigands, you fool.

  He turned away from the window and back to his desk, noting that he had quite a bit of paperwork to get through, even with a steward to do most of the heavy lifting.

  I need to get through that before Melissa and I go away. His mind went to the thought of the two of them, alone, together, perhaps in a chateau in France, perhaps on a ship to the new world. They would lie abed together, and he would divest her of her clothing and gaze upon her soft flesh for the first time. He would run his fingers all over her body before making her his.

  Patrick shivered, thrusting the thought away from him before his breeches became too constricted.

  Brynn got up as early as possible and got dressed quietly. She could feel her mother’s eyes on her even as she pulled her shawl over her head.

  “I don’t think there’s anything we need from the market this morning.”

  Brynn jumped at the words, not having expected her mother to comment.

  “Uh, I er, thought I should get some flowers for Melissa’s room. She's been so down in the dumps lately; I just want to cheer her up.”

  “Is that so? That's very kind of you my dear. But if I am to groom you to take over as housekeeper, you cannot be so obviously biased toward one member of the family, Brynn.”

  “I am taking care of her as best as I can! Like you taught me.”

  The housekeeper put up a hand in a quelling gesture. “I understand Brynn, but you need not be so blatant about it.”

  Brynn looked away, afraid that her mother had seen something in her manner that alerted her to their plans. “Yes, mother,” she said even as she walked out of the room and headed for the back door. Lynn sighed as she watched her go. Unlike the rest of the household, she was aware that Patrick Dutton had not left right away when asked to do so by The Duchess. Instead, he had stolen up to Lady Melissa’s rooms and had a private audience with her.

  The only thing that had stopped Lynn from raising the alarm was that she knew that her own daughter, Brynn, was in the chambers with them. She knew that her daughter would not let anyone hurt the lady. However, ever since that visit, both Lady Melissa and her daughter had exuded a frantic kind of energy as if they held a grave secret.

  Lynn was scared for Brynn. While Her Grace might exert the direst of consequences upon her daughter should she find out about whatever it was they were hiding–and she would find out sooner or later–the lady was still her daughter and so there was a limit to the things The Duchess would be willing to do to her. Brynn had no such protection. The only thing that would save her was if she proved to have no knowledge of whatever Lady Melissa’s plans were. Even then, it was unlikely that she would escape unscathed.

  Lynn resolved that the best thing to do would be to find out Lady Melissa’s plans and betray them to The Duchess before she had a chance to find out herself. That was the only way her daughter would be saved. Gathering a shawl of her own, she resolved to follow Brynn upon her mysterious errand.

  Brynn was glad to see that Henry was the footman on duty as she drew her horse to a stop in front of Lord Bergon’s Grosvenor Street resident. He came to her at once, taking hold of her bridle as she alighted from the horse.

  “Miz Sumner,” he bowed to her just as if she was a lady. “How nice to see you again.”

  “Is your master in?” she asked, a hollow feeling taking over her chest much to her puzzlement.

  “Yes, he is. I believe he is about to sit down to breakfast. Do you have something for him?”

  Brynn removed her hand from inside her shawl to reveal the missive she was clutching. “I am entreated to get a reply.”

  Henry nodded. “Come with me then, ma’am.”

  He led her through the front door and down the corridor. She ignored the hustle and bustle of the household around her, keeping her eyes on Henry’s broad back. He came to a stop beside a man who by his dress was definitely the butler.

  They whispered together for a while before the butler opened the door behind him and went in. Henry turned to favor her with a reassuring smile before the butler returned and ushered her into the room.

  Lord Bergon was sitting at the head of the table, a newspaper in his hands. He folded it and put it aside as she entered, his stormy eyes latching onto her. “I am told you have a note for me?”

  Brynn nodded, feeling oddly intimidated. She handed over the letter in silence and then stood by the wall, waiting.

  “Please, sit,” he pointed to a chair, much to her surprise. She pulled it out and sat down slowly, tapping her fingers soundlessly on the table as he slowly unfolded the missive.

  “Can I offer you tea or coffee?” he asked, not looking up from his reading. Brynn shook her head before remembering that he wasn’t looking at her.

  “No thank you, sir.”

  “Are you certain? We have some of the most excellent coffee to be found on these shores.” He glanced up at her briefly, his gaze friendly.

  “Well then, I shall have a cup.” Brynn had never heard of a lady’s maid being offered any sort of beverage to drink. She found it quite discombobulati
ng. Even more startling, Lord Bergon got to his feet to pour her a cup himself! She held her breath until it was done, wondering what was happening.

  The Marquess impassively went back to his letter and she reached out and took a tentative sip of her brew. She nodded in approval, feeling that Lord Bergon might be right about this being the best coffee in the land. She took another sip, relaxing in her seat as the Marquess read his letter.

  A loud sigh from Lord Bergon startled her, pulling her out of the reverie she had fallen into. “How is My Lady? Is she well?” he asked, lifting his eyes to pin her to her seat.

  “Um, she is fine. A little confused.”

  “Yes, I can see that,” his eyes flicked down to the letter in his hand. “What does she think is going on?”

  Brynn was really not happy to have to answer these questions. “She, uh, she does not know My Lord.”

  “If she cannot trust me, I do not know if we will last very long.”

  Brynn almost dropped her cup. “She does, she wants to trust you. But I think there are just too many changes all at once and it gets confusing.”

  “I just told her a few days ago about my plans to marry her. To elope with her. So, what is this nonsense about Lady Rose?”

  Brynn really had no idea what Melissa had put in the letter and so it was difficult to answer Lord Bergon’s questions. She could not exactly tell him that if he wanted to know he should ask Melissa himself; that would have been too rude. But she was at a loss as to what to do.

  “I don’t know, My Lord.”

  Chapter 20

  Confrontations

  Dear Lord Bergon,

  Forgive me for writing to you in this manner but I am in a state of confusion. I do not know whether I am coming or going and I need you to clarify things for me. Your father just invited us for a hunt. Would you mind telling me why he would do that? Is he still laboring under the delusion that you and Rose are to be wed, or am I the one who is deluded?

  Please answer these questions right away for I am close to hysterics just thinking about it.

  Yours hopefully,

  Lady Melissa Alford

  Patrick had no idea what had gotten into Melissa. He was inclined to dismiss it all as women’s nerves but he was afraid she might interpret it as lack of care. Her lady’s maid was not of much help as far as what her mistress could be thinking about. It was left to Patrick to decipher things for himself and come up with a suitable response.

  He spared a moment to lament the absence of his mother, who would have known just the thing to say, to soothe Melissa’s fears. Patrick, on the other hand, had no idea how to proceed.

  He reached out and rang the bell, summoning Jeffries to him.

  “Yes My Lord?”

  “Take Miss Brynn to the parlor to await me and bring my coffee to my study, right away.”

  “Yes m’lud.”

  Jeffries was blessedly free of questions and simply did as he was bid. Patrick picked up the letter and walked out of the room, conscious of the lady’s maid’s anxious eyes upon him. She probably needed to return to her station as fast as possible but regrettably, Patrick would need some time to compose a suitable missive. He stopped short and turned.

  “On second thought Jeffries, see Miss Brynn to her horse. I shall send a footman with my reply later on today. Please be good enough to watch for his arrival.” He addressed the last part to the lady’s maid, who nodded although she did not look happy. Patrick almost opened his mouth to explain his reasons but then closed it again. It would do no good and might even do harm if Lady Melissa decided that his delay in answering was steeped in subterfuge.

  Clearly, they had to work on their trust issues.

  Brynn rode home feeling a bit of trepidation. She knew that Melissa was waiting anxiously for a reply and having to tell her that she would have to wait a bit longer than anticipated well, she was not looking forward to it.

  She could well anticipate all the badgering her lady would do, trying to gauge from his words or expression just what her beau might have been thinking. Brynn had no idea. She was still reeling from being treated like a guest and regretting the bit of coffee she had left in her cup. It really had been delicious.

  Seeing her mother waiting for her at the servants’ entrance as she rode up caused her spine to stiffen. She remembered the lie she had told this morning. The reason for her early sojourn.

  And here she was now, her hands empty of flowers. Her face paled as she realized that her mother looked most unsurprised to see her bare hands.

  Does she know where I have been?

  She walked slowly toward the door, keeping her eyes glued to her mother, her arms crossed over her shawl, trying to think frantically of an excuse for not having flowers.

  “Brynn.” Her mother was giving her a gently-disappointed look and Brynn’s shoulders slumped as she realized that the jig was up.

  Her mother held a hand out to her. “Come with me.”

  To Brynn’s surprise, her mother led her not into the house, but down the alleyway between the Greyfield House and the mews.

  “Tell me why.”

  Brynn closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and contemplated the prospect of lying to her mother. She did not think it would go well if she did, especially since it was clear that her mother knew something.

  “I was simply passing a message on,” she tried, hoping that would be enough for her mother.

  “What kind of message?”

  “I did not read it!” she winced, knowing that her mother was not going to let this go, but doing her best to keep Melissa’s confidence in any case.

  “Why are you passing messages between Lady Melissa and Lord Bergon? You know The Duchess has her heart set on him marrying Lady Rose.”

  Brynn took a deep breath, stopped walking and turned to her mother. “Mother, it is not your place to question what the masters do.”

  Lynn narrowed her eyes at her. “It is my place when they put my daughter in the middle of their games.”

  “Nobody put me…” Brynn began to protest.

  Lynn took a step closer, the look in her eye intense. “Brynn, you might think that you can hide behind Lady Melissa’s skirts and nothing will happen to you when you are caught. But rest assured that you will receive the brunt of punishment when all this comes to light. So tell me what you are about so that I can at least protect you!”

  Brynn’s felt her core turn to mush at her mother’s words, appreciating them so much more in light of The Duchess’ neglect of her own child. “Oh mother,” she shook her head helplessly.

  “Tell me girl, this minute. That's an order from your mother and your boss. Do not think I won’t let you go. I have the power to hire and fire all staff below me.”

  Brynn widened her eyes at her mother. “You would do that?”

  Lynn snapped her fingers in Brynn’s face. “Just like that my girl. Try me.”

  Brynn gawked, never having seen this side of her mother, not at least directed toward her. “Uh, well,” she fluttered her lashes a few times trying to get her thoughts together. “It’s uh, well Lord Bergon and Lady Melissa are in love.”

  “But he is engaged to Lady Rose.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No. He broke that engagement and now he is free to elope with Lady Melissa.”

  “Elope?”

  “Yes, Mam.”

  It was Lynn’s turn to gawk, eyes bugging out of her head as if she had never heard of such a thing. Brynn bit her lip, hard, so as not to giggle.

  “You cannot help her with that.” Brynn could feel her mother’s hot breath in her face, her fingers digging painfully into Brynn’s arm.

  “Er, too late?”

  “What do you mean too late?”

  “The plan’s already been made mam.”

  “But, not executed. She’s still here,” Lynn made to turn to the house, as if to confirm that Lady Melissa was still indeed, still on the premises, “When is this to occur?”<
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  Brynn shrugged. “Lord Bergon is to make arrangements.”

  “You must...you can’t...” Lynn was clearly agitated. Brynn put a calming hand on her arm.

  “It is fine mother. Lady Melissa will take me with her when she goes.”

  “What?” Lynn’s face blanched, her eyes disbelieving.