Extraordinary Tales of Regency Love: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance Collection

by Fanny Finch

  "My father believed I would someday end up inheriting his earldom, and he raised me to manage an estate if I had to," she explained. "I suppose that is why he taught me such matters."

  The duke nodded, looking a little uncomfortable. "My parents never thought I was ready to learn these things."

  "That surprises me," Agnes replied. "My father said that noble ladies and bachelors had to, by necessity, know the basics of household management. So he made me take care of the house until I could direct the servants expertly."

  "My mother was much the same," the duke remarked. "She had been taught to handle matters of house and lands, for which my father was always grateful. But me? They thought I would spend my time better learning to dance. One cannot dance cobwebs away, or dance a budget into existence."

  Agnes understood that perfectly. In much the same way that one could not befriend people by showing off their knowledge of etiquette, nor drive out lovesickness with logic. There were skills in all areas of life, and it was essential to have some ability in all of these areas if one wanted to be a well-rounded, productive, happy member of society.

  "I am glad you will help me," he continued.

  "I shall do my very best, sir," Agnes insisted.

  "Very well, what do you suggest I ought to do? I am prepared to listen to any advice that results in this pigsty turning into a liveable home," he said. "I have tried everything I could think of, but it seems I do not think enough to achieve anything."

  "Well, the first part is that you should not be ordering your servants to do any single task, sir," Agnes said. "That is what you have a housekeeper for. You do have a housekeeper, yes, sir?"

  "I do," he replied. "I was not exactly sure what she did, so I suppose I never instructed her directly."

  "And your butler?" Agnes asked.

  "Is it not his job to attend to my needs and my quarters?" the duke asked.

  Agnes felt as though her head would burst with frustration. "In part, sir," she replied. "But he is also to help direct the staff and ensure the household runs smoothly."

  "So it is my job, not to direct my servants, but to ask the housekeeper and butler to do that for me?" he asked, seeming a little confused, but also a little bit excited, as though all the pieces were coming together in his mind. "How do they know what I want, though?"

  She showed him how to write up a schedule for the housekeeper and the butler, and explained that they would manage the lesser servants. He was thrilled at the prospect of living in a clean, tidy home like he had grown up in.

  But Agnes was shocked by the duke's cluelessness. Surely a man of his age ought to know what the duties of his butler were? And how could he not realize that it was impossible for a duke to manage all finances, all social affairs, and direct an entire house of servants at once? These were quite simple matters, matters that Agnes understood the fundamentals of from the age of six or seven.

  These were not complicated matters, but things she would have expected him to know. But both he and his sister had been coddled, that she knew. But she had not realized before exactly how harmful coddling was.

  As a child, she had always assumed that the people who were coddled had an easy life, that they were to be envied, for they got it all and did no work of their own. Now she saw the other side of it: a duke who knew absolutely nothing of how to manage half of his roles, all because his parents believed that even in his twenties he was too young to have to deal with these matters.

  It made Agnes even more worried for Georgia, but it also gave her hope for a breakthrough of some description. After all, if the duke was receptive to Agnes's advice now, and if it worked as he wanted it to, perhaps he would be more receptive to her advice later on as well.

  Unlike some men would be when their pride was attacked, he did not seem angry at her for explaining such matters to him. He seemed grateful, more than anything else. He listened attentively and was in awe of how much she knew, as well as expressing slight embarrassment that he did not know these things himself. She still made sure to phrase things modestly, so that he had no cause to see her as lording over him, but it seemed he did not mind at all.

  "You ought to dine with me tonight," he said with a smile once she had finished explaining the nuances of monitoring a housekeeper. "I enjoy your company at breakfast and I would like it at dinner also."

  Agnes shook her head vigorously. "Sir, I must decline. It is not right for someone of my station to spend so much time in Your Grace's company."

  "And yet you do," he replied with a smirk. "It is almost as though your protests were entirely false. I am sure that you want to dine with me as well."

  Agnes fell silent and averted her gaze.

  "Please, Agnes. It would make me happier, and it would no doubt thrill Georgia. Besides, I am sure that you tire of dining alone every night, do you not?"

  Agnes was still hesitant. This was not exactly the best way of ending her fascination with the man. But her instincts shouted louder than her senses. All she could think of was how wonderful it would be to spend so much time in his company, to enjoy his conversation, the sight of his face, and his warm, affectionate aura every night at dinner.

  "Very well, I shall dine with you tonight," she replied.

  He beamed. "I am so glad to hear so! And understand, I do not aim to force you. If you do not wish to, then you do not have to. It is up to you."

  "I want to," she replied, smiling. "I only agreed because I do want to, however inappropriate it is," she confessed.

  "Would you dine with me every night?" he asked with a placid smile. "That would please me very much, Miss Hubbard."

  In that instant, she knew. She knew that he knew. The duke was entirely aware of how much she loved him, and he was playing with her feelings.

  Agnes felt the heat rising to her face. She wanted the earth to open up and swallow her. She wanted to turn about and march straight to her room and never need to face the man again. She did not even have the energy to be angry with him, only ashamed at herself for being so obvious about her sinful desires.

  "Well, Agnes?" he asked again, stepping in closer, so tall and handsome.

  She paused. "Very well. If Your Grace insists, then I shall dine with you and Georgia every night, for as long as you require it."

  "I will require it forever and ever," he said, his voice almost sing-song.

  Agnes could not understand what exactly was motivating this man. He always said he saw her as family, and yet he knew of her love? He was clearly teasing her about her affection for him, but she did not believe him capable of any kind of malice.

  It was altogether too much for her to handle. She wanted to embrace him, kiss him, and strike him all at once.

  "Your Grace is getting very friendly with me," Agnes finally said under her breath.

  He nodded. "Well, I have already said that I see you as family now. It is only right for family to sit around a dinner table together, do you not think? If anything, the peculiar thing would be to see you as my family and not want to dine with you."

  Agnes nodded, feeling a little calmer. "Of course, sir."

  "Why do you mention it?" he asked. "How is it that you feel about me?"

  The heat was rising to her face as quickly as it had retreated mere seconds before. "I am not sure, Your Grace," she lied.

  "Do not lie to me, Agnes," he replied. "I know that you have an opinion on everything. You are as opinionated as I am. Are you my friend?"

  "I would like to think that I am," she said.

  "Are you my family?" he carried on.

  "I would like to be."

  It took her a few seconds to realize what she had done. Rather than say "I would like to think that I am," or "I seem to be," she had merged the two, revealing her true feelings yet again in one simple sentence. So much for keeping a low profile. So much for stifling her emotions until she gained complete control over them.

  The duke chuckled. "That would be lovely, would it not?" he mused. "Well, I suppo
se I ought to return to my office and design a schedule for the servants. And you should make the most of your day off, Agnes."

  Her thoughts were running away with her already. It was not right. She had to maintain her distance from both of them.

  Chapter 14

  The duke seemed a bit too friendly during mealtimes and Georgia's lessons, and yet a bit more absent at all other times of the day. It was this push and pull that drew her to him even more. She longed for him. Every minute with him gave her a spike in energy that drove her forward. Every minute away from him made her feel so hollow and so lonely.

  But he knew about her desires. And, no matter how clueless or playful he might seem, he knew that they were wrong. No wonder he was spending time with her in his sister's company, but avoiding meeting her alone again. He had probably realized the error of his ways and would never act so close to her again.

  Agnes wanted nothing more than to talk to him, but she knew that it was for the best he was keeping his distance. It was the noble, dignified thing to do. It was the right, mature thing to do. He had to look after himself and his own needs, and she had to look after Georgia, and besides that, they did not need to meet.

  When the time came to once again meet him in private in his office for tea and to discuss the household management schedule, she felt as though all her innards had been knotted together.

  The duke was clearly not faring much better. He seemed almost sheepish as they sipped tea, like something on his mind was bothering him a little. Once again, Agnes's mind flew to romance. That little spark of hope in her had not died, and she still wished that perhaps he could open his heart to her and grow to love her. Why could Leah marry a man who would someday be a duke, and yet Agnes had to suffer in silence like this?

  "You recall how I told you about my mother's work keeping this house in order?" he asked.

  "I do recall that, sir," she replied. "Is anything the matter? Did my suggestions not work?"

  "They worked perfectly, Agnes. And that is precisely what I wish to talk about. My mother used to manage the estate for my father also," he said. "I was never taught how and to be honest it has become quite troublesome to maintain."

  Now she realized why he was so embarrassed. It must be terribly awkward for a duke to not know how to manage his estate. It was acceptable to delegate such duties to a wife or a child later on, but to not know in the first place was absolutely horrendous.

  Her expression must have betrayed her surprise.

  "Do not look so shocked. We both know that my parents neglected many things in educating me. It happens that one of them was managing the estate. Which is why I am humbly asking you if, perhaps, you know how to manage an estate. A whole one, from the mansion out to the borders of the duchy." As he spoke he looked away, his face red.

  Agnes knew better than to boast or do anything else which might hurt or offend him. "I have not had any practice, but my father explained the basics of estate management to me," she replied with as much confidence as she could muster. "I suppose that if Your Grace told me what he wanted, I could offer some suggestions as to the best courses of action."

  The duke seemed relieved. "I would like that very much. But how come you had not practiced that at all?"

  "It would have meant meeting many people, leaving the house," Agnes replied. "I suppose he worried my studies would suffer."

  "If you do not mind my asking, why is it that your father did not like you socializing?" he asked. "I understand a father protecting his child, but it seems he went so much further than that."

  Agnes shrugged a little. "I do not know, sir. It was just how he was."

  "Did he not let you stay the night with relatives, or with friends?" he asked.

  "I did not have many friends until I became a young woman," she replied.

  He hesitated. "Not even among your own family?"

  Agnes paused as well. "No, not even among them."

  "Do you think he was protecting you from... something else, perhaps?" the duke asked.

  Agnes was a little taken aback by this sudden inquisition. It left her uncomfortable, and even questioning some aspects of her life and childhood. It was bringing up all sorts of small memories of things she had assumed to be meaningless, of things she had wanted to forget, tried to move on from. Memories of her father shouting at her aunts about invading his privacy. Memories of her father leaping to the door when she tried to walk out unescorted, even in her own garden.

  He'd known all along. He'd known what his family thought of her. And it had scared him.

  Were it anyone else asking these questions, raising these concerns and these emotions in her chest, Agnes would have become indignant. But this was not just anyone. It was the Duke of Portsmouth and, what is more, a man she had grown affectionate towards. She actually felt grateful to him for this, for revealing to her what had been under her nose her entire childhood.

  "I suppose that he knew what his family could do to me if they were left alone with me," Agnes said. "Not that they would dare physically harm me. But perhaps they would have told me about my mother, or tormented me, as they did after he died. He was trying to keep them away so that I would never have to know how despised my mother was."

  "And so he never let you out alone, never allowed you to socialize, for fear that someone may tell you the truth?" he asked.

  Agnes looked up into the duke's eyes. For a moment, a thought flashed through her mind. "Have you found out what my mother did, sir?"

  The duke froze and he broke eye contact, looking instead at the carpet. "What I have found are simply rumors about a thousand different sins, crimes, and minor infringements. Anything that can be done, your father's family say your mother had done. I am not sure what to believe, if any of it at all."

  "Perhaps the truth is in there, though," Agnes whispered, more to herself than to him.

  "Or perhaps there is no truth?" he suggested. "Perhaps whatever truth there was is never going to see the light of day again."

  This could have been the perfect opportunity to establish some distance. She could have accused him of prying too much into her affairs and of denying her valuable information about her childhood and her mother. But, watching the fire and explaining her upbringing to him, she felt at peace. He was right. Hearing all the rumors and vile things her father's family said about her mother would be of no use. After all, her father had wanted to protect her from precisely that her entire life. Why would she undo all his hard work now?

  "Do you believe he was doing all this for your own good?" the duke asked cautiously, as though reading her mind. "Or at least, that he thought it was for your good?"

  "I do," Agnes replied. "I may have suffered from being too focused on learning practical skills, paying no attention to my social needs, but I trust he did the right thing. I have to trust it. After all, it is not as though I can undo it."

  "But you can still say that you believe he was in the wrong," the duke replied. "Do you truly believe he did what was right?"

  "I have no way of knowing," Agnes admitted. "After all, nobody is perfect, so how could anyone do anything that was definitely, truly in the right? But I would like to think, sir, that he did enough."

  "My parents were much the same," the duke confessed. "Not in the act, but in their good intentions. They were far from strict. All the opposite, as you already know. They were so relaxed about my upbringing that I am surprised I can even read and write."

  Agnes had to suppress a laugh. "I suppose that everyone has their limits, sir. My father did not lock me in an attic away from his family. Your parents ensured you learned the bare minimum required to carry on as you need to. Had either your parents or my father done any worse, they would have been insane."

  "We do come from very different upbringings," he mused. "Agnes, do you ever wish you had been raised by parents more like mine?"

  "I would not have traded my father for any other man on Earth," Agnes said with a smile. "He may have been misguided an
d frustrating, but he was my father, and he loved me. And I loved him."

  The Duke grinned. "I feel much the same way. Sometimes I wish they had been a little bit stricter, but I would never have traded them for new parents. I loved the ones I had, even as I got angry with them, or they confused me or disappointed me. I loved them and would have chosen nobody else."

  "Then they must have done enough as well," Agnes said. "Not truly right, or truly wrong, but enough."

  For a moment, silence hung heavily in the air.

  "I wish they could come back," the duke whispered with a rough throat, his voice breaking a little.

  Agnes understood exactly how he felt, but she was not sure how to respond. It was too much for her to bear, seeing him like that, knowing how much pain he was feeling, that he was feeling the same pain she was.