The Duke's Yuletide Blessing: Christmas Regency Romance (A Regency Christmas Book 2)

by Charity McColl

  The Duke’s Yuletide Blessing

  A Christmas Regency Romance

  Charity McColl

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  © 2019 PureRead Ltd

  PureRead.com

  Contents

  1. Locked Away

  2. Searching for Hope

  3. Don’t You Cry, My Queen

  4. Homeward Bound

  5. In the Spirit of Christmas

  6. Dream Me a New Life

  7. Unexpected Feelings

  8. Winds of Change

  9. Exposed Secrets

  10. Journey’s End

  Epilogue

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  1

  Locked Away

  Andoria Shovia knew that if she was caught, she would be hanged without a trial, or at least a fair one, at that. That was how cruel and vicious their new king was. Anyone who opposed the monarch was immediately termed a traitor and hanged in the public square.

  But she was tired of being afraid, and there was a lot at stake here. The future of this beloved kingdom hung in the balance and only one person could ensure that Molorva would one day be free again.

  Though she wasn’t born in Molorva, it was her mother’s homeland, and for the past twenty years this is where she’d lived. Molorva was a small island kingdom just off the coast of Netherlands which had been ruled by monarchs for thousands of years. It was a beautiful and mountainous island which was one of Europe’s leading producers of diamonds, sapphires, zircons, agates, and rubies. Because of their wealth, the kingdom was quite developed but also set in their cultural ways, such as owning slaves and bondservants.

  Because of a terrible deed done nearly two centuries before, Andoria’s mother’s family had ended up as bondservants, and only a sitting monarch’s Edict of Pardon could overturn that terrible sentence. This meant they had lost all their lands, and apart from small homesteads, they had nothing else. It wasn’t an ideal life for Andoria, and she dreamed of one day returning to England where she was born and being free.

  Andoria smiled as she slipped through the dark door, careful to make sure none of the guards saw her. The future of Molorva was in the hands of one little baby, and that one as yet unborn, and whose mother was a prisoner in the palace dungeons. A king born in bondage, she thought, shaking her head.

  Hearing voices ahead of her, she stopped and pressed her slender body against the wall, heart pounding hard. She hadn’t been paying attention and had nearly walked into the guards, which would have ended badly for her. From the voices, she quickly deduced that there were only two of them and she breathed a little easier. Two guards could be dealt with, not a whole legion. But the words of one of them made her blood run cold.

  “In just a matter of four months’ time, King Francis Kirkon will have no more threats to the kingdom. It has been planned that the day the child of Kaffas is born is the day of his coronation, and that will be around Christmas time. I can’t wait for the celebrations then,” the guard laughed, a gruff sound that made chills run down Andoria’s back. “One full week of doing nothing but celebrating the new king.”

  “Why does he keep his sister-in-law alive? Why not just kill her and be done with her and the baby?”

  “Because Queen Bernice thinks that would be a very easy way out. She hates her half sister and wants her to suffer even more,” the two guards laughed. “The deposed queen will first go through the pain of childbirth and then watch as her child is torn from limb to limb on the day of the coronation, an end to Kaffas’s lineage. And then she will be given the choice of going into exile or being executed.”

  “Chilling,” the second guard said, “But quite spectacular, not something I would want to miss,” and the two men moved out of her hearing range, their laughter fading away.

  Andoria’s lips tightened. Now more than ever, she needed to get the sweet true queen out of Molorva and take her to safety. It wasn’t going to be easy and they might die in the process but there would be no spectacle for those attending the usurper’s coronation to see. No, whatever happened, she was going to do her best to get Queen Naomi Kaffas out of those horrible dungeons.

  Seeing that the guards had gone in the direction she was headed, Andoria decided to postpone her visit to the dungeons and instead returned to Queen Bernice’s chambers and just in time. For the queen walked in a few minutes later and started fussing.

  “Andoria, my jewels,” Queen Bernice barked at her. “There’s a state banquet to discuss our coronation and I want to look my best.”

  “Yes, your Majesty,” Andoria curtsied, her face devoid of any expression. It was an art she had perfected in the past seven years that she had lived and worked in the palace of the country she loved and hated in equal measure.

  As the daughter of an Englishman and Molorvan mother, Andoria’s features leaned more towards her father’s side. Whereas most of the women in Molorva had dark hair and dark skin, Andoria’s hair was golden and her eyes blue, and she was the envy of many women. A number of men had expressed the desire to marry her, but she rejected them all, her heart set on one day returning to England to marry an Englishman.

  Her father, Ernest Miller, had died when she was two years old and she couldn’t even remember him. But her mother had kept his memory alive for her.

  “Your father would have been so proud of you,” her mother had told her seven years ago when she was chosen to work in the royal palace of Molorva as an apothecary, for she had extensive knowledge in the herbs used in the treatment of various ailments, courtesy of her maternal grandmother. For her own safety, she had also dropped her father’s surname and used her mother’s instead.

  Andoria had also been chosen because she was also one of the few young women in Molorva who spoke perfect English, again because of the extensive lessons she received from her mother.

  “Andoria!”

  “Your majesty,” she curtsied.

  “I’ll wear my colourless zircons which look like diamonds,” Queen Bernice giggled. “It’s a game I like to play with his majesty, King Kirkon. When I appear in something other than diamonds before his guests, he will immediately commission the jewellers to make me a set of earrings, bracelet, necklace and rings from real diamonds and gold,” she turned her bright eyes to Andoria. “Isn’t it wonderful how much my husband really loves me and will do anything for me?”

  Andoria wanted to laugh out loud but knew that if she did that, her head would be severed off without mercy.

  Queen Bernice was one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom, and songs were written about her, but underneath all that beauty lay a manipulative and vindictive woman. So much ugliness existed within her.

  As a servant in the palace and the highest female one at that, Andoria as the queen’s lady-in-waiting was revered by the other servants. But she kept her lips shut, so no one would ever misquote her since she held a very enviable position. The reason she was the queen’s lady-in-waiting was because of her knowledge of English. Upon ascending to the throne, Queen Bernice had immediately ordered that Andoria be brought from the palace pharmacy to attend to her.

  Andoria made it seem like she had very little knowledge
of the Molorvan languages of which there were only two. But she was fluent in both dialects, thanks to Grandma Milcah. So, the servants freely gossiped in her presence, believing that she couldn’t understand them.

  It was through that gossip that Andoria had learned that a number of the young servants had lain with the current king, for he was quite a philanderer. And they received many gifts from him because he was also quite lavish.

  King Francis Kirkon was a weak man, according to Andoria, unlike King David Kaffas, the true king of Molorva. Her grandmother used to tell her that a king who was ruled by his base passions of loving power, possessions and women was a weak man and never to be trusted. From when King Kaffas had appointed his cousin to be the Grand Duke of Molorva, her grandmother had predicted disaster for the kingdom just a few weeks before her death.

  And her predictions came to pass, for King Francis, who had been the Grand Duke, had murdered his cousin, the king, during a coup five months ago. King Kaffas had been overthrown and murdered and his body buried secretly, according to the rumours running rife in the kingdom. But no one dared speak out loud for fear of being termed a traitor and being executed. Many of the noblemen who had ruled under King Kaffas had gone into exile, and the kingdom was now under the rule of pompous imbeciles, as Grandma Milcah would say, had she still been alive.

  Everyone in the kingdom knew that King Kaffas had truly loved his beautiful and sweet wife, who was Queen Bernice’s younger half sister. But now wasn’t the time to reminisce about the past, and Andoria put her thoughts aside to serve her queen.

  “Your majesty, you look so beautiful and adorable, the king won’t be able to keep his eyes off you,” Andoria had been trained to give the right responses and the queen glowed at the praise.

  “More beautiful than my sister?”

  Andoria nearly rolled her eyes. It was always the same thing. Bernice had to outshine her sister in every way. She was struggling to get pregnant so her child would be the crown prince or princess but so far, she was unsuccessful. Andoria could have told her that she was wasting her time because, as the person who attended to her in every way, she knew that the queen was barren. But never would such words leave her lips.

  “You’re the most beautiful jewel in the Kingdom of Molorva,” Andoria curtsied. “No matter how beautiful the diamonds, gold and gems of Molorva are, none can hold a shine to my Queen Bernice, fairest of them all.”

  Helping the queen dress and then walking her to the stateroom where the major domo took over and led her inside was quite taxing, and Andoria was exhausted. Her duties for the next six or so hours were over, and all she had to do was return to the queen’s chambers and tidy up after the flurry of dressing activities. But she was also the only one entrusted to take food to the prisoner in the dungeons, and she was the only one who held the keys to the doors leading to the prison. After picking up the lunch dishes from the queen’s private dining room, she left the chambers.

  As she walked into the kitchen and appreciatively smelled the delicious aromas wafting about in the air, a smile broke out on her face. “Catherine,” she called out to the head cook, “You have outdone yourself today, the guests will be very happy. No one can ever do it as well as you, my dear good lady.”

  “Andoria, you’re a gem and I’ll spare you a rib or two of wild boar.”

  “You’re the best,” Andoria looked around, “I’ve come to collect the prisoner’s food and take it to her.”

  “In the bin,” Catherine pointed her ladle in the direction of the huge bin. “And please stay out of our way because there’s so much to do and I don’t relish the thought of finding my head on a platter if I should delay even a single dish.”

  “I’m gone,” Andoria went to the other side of the kitchen, away from the hustle and bustle. The large bin contained all the leftover food that even the servants in the palace wouldn’t eat. It was put there to feed the palace hogs and dogs and Queen Naomi, as per Queen Bernice’s strict instructions.

  Using an empty pail, Andoria took as much as she could, glad that the cook and her assistants were too busy to notice that she had picked out the choicest bones. No one knew that Queen Naomi’s cute poodle, Silver, lived down in the dungeons with her. The little dog was so faithful to his mistress and kept the dungeon free from rodents and serpents. Whenever she could, Andoria would take him some choice pieces of meat.

  Leaving the pail at the bottom of the stairs, she quickly went to her mistress’s chambers and to her side room where she had hidden the food Bernice had left over from lunch. Storing the package under her thick coat, she returned and picked up the pail and walked along the deserted corridor toward the heavy door leading to the dungeon.

  “What do you have there,” she met the usual guard standing there. His name was Ewan, as he’d told her, and he was mild mannered but she was still very careful around the guards.

  “The usurper’s dinner,” Andoria giggled, sounding like one of the foolish and flirtatious maids. “And I got you something too,” she slipped him a small bottle of the best vodka and two pieces of chocolate. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She slipped the key into the lock, turned it and went in, then locked it again.

  “You’re a beautiful one,” she heard him say. “Be back in a jiffy then.”

  “Very well,” she said in a mild tone, but her face was hard. One day, all this would be over.

  2

  Searching for Hope

  It was hard to think, but he had to. All around him was devastation and all he could do was pray that the weather would be merciful to him and his people this year. Scorching sun for the past two summers followed by extremely harsh winters had caused so much devastation to his duchy. Lord Connor Braxton, Duke of Winthrop, knew that not many people could bear to suffer through more bad weather.

  His own fiancée, Lady Serena Marshall, daughter of a lowly baron, had been one of the victims of the terrible weather conditions just two years ago. They had been planning for their wedding and Lady Serena had come to the manor to discuss more about their ceremony which was to have taken place the next year in spring. Even though it was an arranged marriage, Connor had developed a fondness for the fair-haired and blue-eyed woman. She was pretty and vivacious and everyone who knew of their engagement had agreed that she would make a good wife to him and a suitable duchess and would beget strong and healthy sons.

  Much as Connor yearned for some passion in their relationship, he knew that Serena with her uptight upbringing wasn’t going to provide it. So, he had resigned himself to having a comfortable marriage in the days to come, but that wasn’t to be.

  On that fateful day, Serena had visited him and halfway through the visit, it started snowing. She announced that she had to go back home even though the manor had many empty rooms that she could have used.

  “Please stay,” he begged. “When it stops snowing, I’ll take you home in my carriage, no matter what time it is.”

  Serena shook her head, “I rode over and besides, what’s a little snow? I’ve ridden in blizzards, and my home is only a mile down the road from here,” she said.

  “The weather isn’t good and I don’t like you being out there on your own. Or at least let me get my horse saddled and I’ll come with you.”

  “Don’t be such a fussy mother hen,” she brushed his protestations aside and picked up her crop and jumped onto her horse. She waved as she left, and it was with a heavy heart that he’d watched her go.

  As he was getting ready for bed that evening, his valet walked into his bedchamber or more like burst in, his face very white. It wasn’t like Rupert to behave in such a manner and Connor frowned. “What’s going on, Rupert?”

  “Your Grace,” the man looked shaken. “I’m afraid I have very bad news.”

  “What is it?”

  “Lady Serena met with an accident when she left here and has been taken to her father’s house, but the doctor says she may not last the night.”

  But Serena had lived in a vegetat
ive state for a full year, during which every physician and surgeon had done what they could for her but all in vain. Connor hadn’t spared any money to make sure that his fiancée was treated, and when his own ran out, he turned to borrowing from whoever could lend him. In the end, just a year ago, Serena had succumbed to her injuries. While she still lived, Connor’s creditors had stayed at bay, but after her death, they had hounded him mercilessly.

  The Winthrop Duchy, a once-prosperous and successful entity had suffered terrible summers and winters, and his tenants were unable to meet their obligations to him, which further put him in a lot of debt. He dug into his coffers and, in the end, it was like chasing after the wind.

  For a full year, he’d been struggling to pay off what he owed but was still a long way from being free. While a few peers whose help he sought advised him to sell part of his estate and recover, he knew that he could never do it.

  He’d made a promise to his grandfather that he would keep the estate intact, and he intended to keep his promise even though things were really tough now.

  Autumn was nigh, and he could hear the wind whistling in the trees. The windows rattled as they kept the fierce winds at bay.

  “What am I going to do?” He asked himself as he went to check on his horses. They were the only precious assets he still had, and come the New Year, he was going to have to sell at least two of them to pacify the creditors. He had five prize horses that he knew would fetch him a tidy sum, but that was a drop in the ocean in as far as his debts went. He would need to do more to get himself out of this problem.