The Lost Love of a Stunning Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Book

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The Lost Love of a Stunning Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 13

by Bridget Barton


  Suddenly, it was clear to Mimi. Her mother had been deeply in love with her comte. She hadn’t made the mistake of being seduced once. She’d been his mistress. She’d known he would never marry her. So she’d taken what she could get, a fine house, jewels, and lovely clothing, until the day came when he gave it no more. If the revolution hadn’t interrupted their lives, Mimi wondered if her mother would still be the comte’s mistress. She dared not ask. She’d said too much already.

  “What did my sister, Marguerite, tell you, Mimi? She was always a champion for your father. I used to think if I hadn’t married him she would have. But he was courting me. It happened very fast. We had to leave Paris. I told you my aunt viewed me with hatred. What was I to do? Your father offered to save me. I was, I am eternally grateful to him. But, if you must know, I was in love with the comte. Your father was aware of it.”

  “But there came the day when I realised I had, somewhere along the line, fallen in love with Joseph. After you were born, I realised a contentment that I’d never known. Then I knew I was in love with your father. Those early years were some of the happiest of my life.”

  “Yes, Maman. My father knew you had been loyal and committed to him. But he also thought you regretted having married him. He knew you cared for him, but I don’t think he knew you were in love with him. At least, that’s what I thought when he told me about Paris.”

  Marie had been playing with her fingers in her lap. When Mimi stopped speaking, she looked up. A lone tear slid down the side of her face. “That will be enough, Mimi.” She stood to leave the bedchamber. Mimi watched the reflection of her mother in the looking glass as she walked out.

  *******

  Some minutes later there was a knock on the door.

  “Giselle? Come in.”

  The maid entered the room. “Is everything well, Miss Mimi?”

  “I suppose so. My mother is upset. Of course it started with me being upset, but you know my mother.”

  “She went to bed, Mademoiselle. She told me to dress and accompany you to the dance this evening.”

  “ She did? She is angry with me. I said some hurtful things. I brought up issues from her past. I think I wanted to hurt her. Because she has hurt me. She intends to impose the kind of life she tasted and lost on me. Giselle, I’m so confused. I know she wants my happiness, but I need to make my own choices.”

  “You’ve seen Mr Warren, excuse me, the Lieutenant. If you don’t mind my asking, Miss are you still in love with him?”

  “I don’t know. I never heard from him. I wrote him so many letters that he never answered them.”

  “It’s possible his responses were lost, Mademoiselle. There is a war being fought.”

  “I suppose. Still, he didn’t mention receiving them.”

  “Maybe he will be at the party tonight.”

  “That wouldn’t do any good. Duke Hertford will be there. My mother will wish me to speak to no other.”

  “No! Mademoiselle.” The maid lowered her voice. “But, your maman will not be there. And I cannot believe she would be upset if you were to speak to Lieutenant Warren. I cannot believe she would insist that you speak only to the Duke.

  “That makes two of us, Giselle. I was simply shocked by some of the things my mother told me tonight. She honestly believes that if I were to become the Duke’s betrothed then none of us would ever have a problem ever again. She hopes for marriage, but sometimes I believe she would take my being his mistress if it was the only available option. She told me there are worse things that could befall a woman than to be the primary mistress to a very rich man. She doesn’t realise that this is not the Paris of her youth. Mistresses are not celebrated in London.”

  By Mimi’s and Giselle’s standards Marie had been somewhat mercenary in confirming any information she heard about the Duke. She paid particular attention to the rumours of women in the Duke’s sphere.

  And it appeared that he had no one special. In fact, it was difficult to find out very much about him. The women he was allegedly involved with never said a word to anyone. And there had been nothing other than sightings of the Duke and whichever young lady he chose to pursue on a given night.

  He was notorious for spending almost the whole evening at a party with one woman. He would dance with her twice, but no more. He would bring her refreshment. He would be utterly charming and attentive. And each girl went home that night sure in the knowledge that the Duke would become her beau. Each young lady, warm in her bed, would lay her head on the pillow planning her trousseau and dreaming happy dreams of wealthy, privileged wedlock.

  Until the next dance. Then the young lady might be squired around the dance floor once, not twice. She would find herself asking some other gentleman to get her some refreshment. And she would notice at the end of the evening that the Duke had barely said a word to her for the duration of the party.

  Or worse, the girl in question would find herself all but ignored for the entire party. No dances, no dashing smiles, no attention whatsoever.

  Many unhappy tears had been shed over the fickle antics of the Duke of Hertford.

  *******

  Giselle and Mimi departed for the Hudsons’ in the carriage. Jones rode inside the coach with the ladies as chaperone. He would wait outside with the groom until the party was over. Then he would escort the young ladies back to Jermyn Street.

  Giselle wore an evening dress that Mimi had given her for Christmas the year before. It had been made according to the height of the Parisian fashions which were currently making their way to London. Waistlines were beginning to drop ever so slightly. Giselle looked exquisite in the lavender silk frock, her blonde hair piled up in a mass of soft curls on either side of the part down the centre of her head. A subtle touch of pale colour painted onto her lips brought out her features to perfection..

  The two young women walked side by side into the house and gazed around the room. The hostess hurried over to them, greeting and offering refreshment. Then they were led to a nice setting of a sofa and two chairs to enjoy their beverages and watch the dancers who’d already taken to the pretentiously chalked dance floor.

  Bella and Francis walked up to them with another man. “Mimi, Giselle, may I present Mr Charles Lindsey?”

  The five conversed for a few minutes, and then Mr Lindsey asked Giselle to dance.

  “Mimi, why I haven’t seen Mrs Hancock. Is your mother here at the party? Where did she make off to?” Bella looked somewhat confused. “I thought since the Duke is alleged to be coming that she would have been here an hour ago, whip in hand.” Bella laughed.

  “I wish I could laugh about it, Mia. Maman and I had a terrible fight. I said some things I wish I hadn’t. She’s punishing me by having gone to bed in tears.”

  “Whatever happened?”

  “I will discuss it with you another time. Too many ears in the room, if you understand me.”

  Bella glanced discreetly, around the room. “Oh yes. I understand.”

  There was a flurry of activity at the door to the drawing room. “Attention Mimi, I believe the Duke has arrived.” Francis grinned.

  Mimi rolled her eyes. “If he is true to what is said about him he will, I dare say, cut me.”

  “Why do you say that, Mimi?” Francis was scanning the people in the doorway. “Yes, it is the Duke.”

  “I say that, Francis, because that is what people say.”

  “And when did you start listening to what people say?” Bella joined her husband in laughter.

  “Laugh as long as you like. The Duke’s behaviour will prove me right.”

  “Or wrong.” Francis turned to Mimi. “Here he comes now.”

  Hertford approached the little group and extended his salutation to each. He then promptly asked Mimi to dance.

  “Oh, well, yes. Of course, Your Grace. I would be honoured.”

  The Duke glided away with Mimi. Bella and Francis sat down on the sofa. They had only watched the dancing a little longer when they caught
sight of a soldier’s uniform. Bella grabbed her husband’s arm. “Francis, look. It’s Richard.”

  “My darling. Why do you grab my arm so?”

  “Because, dear heart, Richard and the Duke are both present.”

  “Bella, are you feeling unwell? Of course they are both here. They were both invited, I’ve no doubt. What are you thinking?”

  She looked around the room. “Shh. He’s coming over here. I shall tell you everything later at home.” She smiled at her husband then turned to see Richard as he walked up to them.

  “Lieutenant Warren. What a pleasant surprise.” Francis looked at his wife but said nothing, nodding to Richard.

  “That is quite the walking stick, Lieutenant. Is that gold on the handle?”

  “Yes, it is.” The two men went on to discuss the merits of walking sticks while Bella watched the dancing. They saw Duke Hertford reach up to a tray for a glass of ratafia which he then handed to Mimi. She smilingly, accepted. And after enjoying her refreshment sitting on a small sofa across the room with the Duke, Mimi was once again led out to the dance floor by him.

  Bella casually looked at her husband and Richard. It was too late. She could tell that Richard had spotted Mimi with the Duke. His conversation with her husband continued, but she realised it was mainly Francis doing the talking. She didn’t know what to do. She had imagined that a scene such as this would have played out sooner or later, but she’d had no idea how in-depth the situation had become. Mimi had been quite casual in her comments to Bella about the Duke. And about Richard.

  To Bella, it was as clear as day that they were in the midst of a love triangle. Just who was in love with whom, she wasn’t sure of. But there was most definitely a love triangle emerging.

  Giselle had come back winded from her long dance with Mr Lindsey. She’d had one sip of lemonade, and Richard asked her if she’d like to dance. She looked to Bella who nodded in an almost imperceptible way. Then she headed to the dance floor with Richard.

  Across the room, Mimi was seated near Hertford. A little too near, she thought, but if Marie wanted her daughter to seduce the Duke, then Mimi would try her best to make the man fall in love with her. She’d thought about it and had come to the conclusion that it was what was due to her mother. Especially after the harsh words Mimi had used. And it wouldn’t hurt to one day be a Duchess and never want for anything.

  “Oh look, Miss Hancock. Is that not your friend? The one from the army?”

  Mimi followed the Duke’s gaze out to the dance floor. Richard was dancing with Giselle. His movements were slightly stilted, but he was still a lovely dancer. He’d always carried his upper body with an inborn elegance and grace. She found herself wondering why he seemed a little out of practice, then reminded herself that he had been to war. She also found herself wondering what he was talking about with Giselle.

  They looked happy, the two of them laughing about something. Giselle was radiant. Mimi had a most unpleasant sensation in her stomach. There was no reason why Giselle shouldn’t dance with Richard, except he was a gentleman now, and she still a servant. But no one here knew she was a servant. Marie had sent her to the party because Mimi could not go alone. And as she looked around the room she saw that men were noticing Giselle.

  She saw the words form on the lips of one man who had been watching her to the other. “Who is she?”

  Suddenly, the Duke stood. You don’t mind if I ask your little friend to dance, Miss Hancock, do you? Of course you don’t. I shall return.”

  “But you haven’t been presented to her. Your Grace, you must be introduced.”

  “Don’t worry about that; she’s just a serving girl. I know she is your maid. Your mother most likely ordered the girl to come here tonight with you. As a sort of chaperone. No? I notice the lovely Mrs Hancock is not in attendance.”

  He winked at her and headed out to the other side of the dance floor. He hovered near Richard and Giselle until the music was over.

  “Hello, may I have the next dance, Miss. I am Hugh Templeton, Duke of Hertford.”

  Giselle’s face went white. She looked at Richard.

  “By all means, Your Grace. This is Miss Giselle.” He didn’t know her last name, so left it at that willing the odd moment to go unremembered, and, more importantly, undiscussed by any mutual acquaintances.

  He walked away from the couple in the direction the Duke had come from. He saw that Mimi was still seated on the sofa. He approached her.

  “Miss Hancock.”

  “Richard. I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

  “My apologies for disappointing you.”

  “No, I didn’t mean I am disappointed to see you. I didn’t know how many would be here, that’s all. I’m not well acquainted with this family in spite of the fact that my mother and Mrs Hudson have grown close. I do not know who their friends are. But a party is a party, is it not?” She smiled nervously.

  “Would you care to dance, Miss Hancock?”

  “Oh, Richard, I don’t want to dance. Will you forgive me? Sit with me, will you?”

  “You don’t want to dance, or you won’t because you are waiting for the Duke to come back?”

  “Richard! Don’t be silly.”

  “Am I being silly, Mimi?”

  “It seems to me you are. I’m tired, Richard. I’ve been to so many soirees and parties and teas since May that I can barely keep my head on straight.”

  “Would you like me to escort you home? Seeing as you are so tired?” His eyes bore into hers.

  “Well, uh, Giselle is dancing. I can’t very well leave her, can I? We cannot leave together, alone.”

  “Let me ask you a question, Mimi. May I?”

  “Very well. What is it?”

  “When the Duke offers to drive you and Giselle home later, and he has his groom walk Giselle to the area door, will you not be alone with him? And when he suggests late supper at Almack’s in a private room, will you not be alone with him?”

  She was looking down into her hands, folded demurely in her lap, to hide the blush she felt in her cheeks. “Surely, I … I do not know of what you are speaking, Richard. I will ask you to stop with this foolish talk, this instant.”

  He bowed to her. “As you wish, Miss Hancock. Oh, look. There is Miss Stevens. Good evening, Miss Hancock.” He said no more, and when she looked up, Richard was across the room chatting with Lizzie Stevens. Mimi felt a tear come to her eye and quickly wiped it away behind the cover of her fan.

  *******

  London

  Early Autumn 1814

  “Darling. I’m worried about Richard. He hasn’t left the house to do anything social in weeks. Since we’ve been back from Cromer all he’s done is go riding early in the morning, every morning, for hours on end. Then he comes home, has some luncheon, and sleeps until dinner. It’s most unlike him. He seems so far away as if he’s always preoccupied with something.”

  “My dear, you must realise that our boy saw some very upsetting things when he was away at the war. He and I have discussed it somewhat, but it is something I cannot repeat to you. It is disturbing what war can drive some men to. And our son saw it for himself. He’s been trying to readjust to a life that no longer has meaning for him. He doesn’t care what the latest hat or waistcoat style is. He’s sickened by all the gossip he hears. I’m considering paying his way through law school just to see him interested in life again. He loved the law. It had been his first choice until he decided on the army. And now, of course after what happened with his leg, he …”

  “His leg is not healing? Why the doctor told me it would take some time, but we should expect a good recovery. Richard told me it was not serious. Has he re-injured it?”

  “No dear. It pains him is all. He doesn’t want you to worry about him any more than you do.”

  “How could I possibly worry any more about him than I already do? I’ve been concerned at his lackadaisical and, at times, his antagonistic attitude. He hasn’t been himself. Do you m
ean to tell me the leg will never heal properly?”

  George Warren was caught between a rock and a hard place. He’d promised his son that he would never divulge the secret details of his son’s injury to Lavinia. He knew, as did Richard, that Lavinia would be terrified at the mottled flesh and scar tissue. But she’d let him know that she wanted to examine the leg in hopes that she might do something to ease her son’s pain.

  The pain his injured leg gave Richard was immense. George thought to try and talk Lavinia into not insisting on seeing it. But she would insist. And George knew it would be just a matter of time until her concern over the matter would cause her to become consumed with the idea of assisting in the healing of the leg.

  The thought upset George a great deal. He had no idea how to broach the subject or how to talk about it with his son. Lavinia would see the injury. She would not take no for an answer. He would have to brace his son for the investigation that would surely follow this conversation with his wife.

 

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