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

by Bridget Barton

  “Very good then. Blackmore, we will leave for the ship at sunrise.”

  “Yes, very well. Shall I ready your things now or wait until morning?”

  “You’ll do no such thing. At either time. I will see to myself. I must learn sometime, you know. And, quite frankly, when I was at the war, I had no valet.”

  “But ...”

  “I’ll be fine, Blackmore. Now, Camille, you two go and have some supper. I will see you in the morning. Sunrise, Blackmore.” Richard grinned and winked. The couple said good night, and then retired.

  Richard went to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of claret. He would have toasted with Camille and Blackmore, but there would be time for that when they were all settled in Georgia. There would also be time for Richard to find himself an American wife.

  *******

  After luncheon, Marie walked down the road to the house three doors away. She’d been doing much thinking. It was finally apparent to her that her daughter was in love with Richard Warren. And she’d realised that she wanted her daughter to be happy. It was time to make things right.

  Once at the front door, she struck at the oaken door using the knocker. After a moment the door opened a crack.

  “Madam! It’s fine to see you. Mrs Warren is not here. She has moved over to Wimpole Street. I’ll have Kirby take you in the carriage.”

  “How are you, Camille?”

  “Very well, Madame.”

  Marie eyed her former cook up and down. “It looks as if married life agrees with you.”

  “Oh, it does, Madame.”

  Marie was sincerely happy for Camille. “May I come in, Camille?”

  “Forgive me, Madame. Entrez.” She stepped aside and gestured Marie in. The two went downstairs to the family sitting room, since Marie was, technically, a friend of the family.

  “Merci, Camille. Merci.”

  “May I get you some refreshment, Madame?”

  “No, thank you. I must speak with the Lieutenant.”

  “Madame?”

  “I know. I know it sounds odd, but I must speak with Richard. This instant.”

  “I’m afraid that will not be possible, Madame.”

  “What do you mean it’s not possible?”

  “Uh, what I mean, Madame, is Lieutenant Warren is not at home.”

  Marie shrugged. “Very well. I’ll wait. Where is he? Riding in the park? Last I heard he was on a self-imposed regimen to strengthen himself.”

  “Madame, Lieutenant Warren is not out riding. He is on a ship, Madame. A ship to America. He means to make a new life there.”

  Marie said nothing. Her hand went to her heart.

  “Madame? Are you well?”

  “What?” Marie shook her head, and her attention came back to her. “Uh, yes. Yes, I’m fine, Camille. Please. Tell me of Lieutenant Warren’s plans.”

  *******

  “Why did he not contact me first?” Mimi rolled onto her side in the bed. She faced away from Marie.

  “I’m sorry, mon ange.” Marie had come to see the error of her ways. But her self-revelation had come too late. Richard Warren was on his way to America. She’d had no idea just how much her daughter loved Richard. But when she’d realised it, she’d gone down the road to try and make things right.

  That was when Camille had sat in the sitting room at the Warren house and told Marie of Richard’s plan. He’d left. He was gone to America. He was, once more, in search of a new life.

  “Mimi. I wish there was something I could say. Something I could do. I love you, mon ange. I had only your best interests at heart. I had no idea how deeply you loved Richard. I thought it was not much more than a schoolgirl’s interest in a handsome friend. He did cut quite the figure in his uniform, did he not?” Marie smiled, talking fast and nervously, trying to get her daughter to forgive her.

  “Yes, Maman.” Mimi still faced the bed curtains on the wall side of the bed.

  “Please, Mimi.”

  “Please? Maman, there is nothing more to discuss. The Duke is intrigued with me. I will make him fall in love with me. I will be Duchess Hertford. You shall have your wish, Maman.”

  “Mimi, perhaps I was presumptuous in wanting you to seduce the Duke. You must realise that those people, the ton, they will never accept you.”

  “Those people? You’ve wanted to walk freely among ‘those people’ for your entire life, Maman. When Papa died, you became nearly crazed with the idea of it. So much so that you’ve been willing to give me to the Duke to be his pet until he tires of me. I remind you again, Maman, this is not France. This is not a business arrangement that gives me some kind of security for my old age. Or yours. Whatever benefits I were get from a liaison with the Duke, and what you might get for that matter, other than matrimony, are present tense only.”

  “You talk like a bitter old woman.”

  “I feel like a bitter old woman. Now, please let me rest, Maman. This relapse of the influenza has left me exhausted.”

  “Shall I send Giselle in to read to you?”

  “No.”

  “Mimi.”

  “I said no, Maman. Laissez-moi tranquille.”

  “Very well, mon ange. I will leave you alone.” Marie stood, all the while looking at her daughter’s back. Without another word, she softly left the bedchamber.”

  “Madame?” Giselle sat on the sofa in the hall, working on some sewing.

  “Go in, Giselle. Sit with her. She is resting.”

  “Yes, Madame.”

  ******

  Giselle entered Mimi’s bedchamber as quietly as Marie had left it. She sat in the chair at the foot of the bed and worked her needlepoint. Mimi’s shoulders moved silently and softly, and Giselle knew she was weeping. She also knew that she had to tell Mimi about Richard’s visit. Even if Marie were to let her go for doing so, Giselle had to tell Mimi that he’d been there to see her.

  Giselle didn’t want to see Mimi marry Hertford and become a caricature of herself. Giselle could not deny the charm of the man, but she’d heard the story of the young seamstress who was nearly ruined because she would not allow the Duke to have his way with her.

  Giselle knew the girl and went to speak with her. And the story was true. The Duke had made up vicious rumours about the girl. She’d almost gone out of business as a result. It was only by the good graces of the traders’ wives that she’d been able to subsist. Thank goodness the middle class women wanted frocks and ball gowns that imitated those of the higher echelons.

  As it was, Giselle wondered what kind of a husband, what kind of a father would such a man be?

  “Mademoiselle? Would you like a posset to aid your sleep?”

  Mimi sniffed in reply.

  Giselle lowered her sewing to her lap and watched Mimi’s back. She’d never seen Mimi this way. She couldn’t bear it. She had to say something about Richard’s visit.

  “Mademoiselle, will you face me?”

  Again only a sniffle answered her.

  “Miss Mimi, I must tell you something very important.”

  “Oh really? There is something on this earth that is more important than my maman’s wishes.”

  “Please, Mademoiselle. Turn to face me.”

  Mimi sighed audibly. “Very well. What is it?”

  Giselle masked her surprise at seeing Mimi’s white face and tangled mass of black curls. She looked wild and beautiful, not frail and ill. But Giselle knew Mimi had come very close to death during both phases of her illness.

  “Let me help you, Miss. There we go.” The maid plumped the pillows behind Mimi’s back so she could sit up.

  “Giselle. Are you going to tell me something or no? Please do not humour my mother and sit here with me because I have nothing to say to her.”

  “Oui, Mademoiselle.” Giselle went back to her chair and moved it up

  closer to the head of the bed. She looked at the door to be sure it was snugly closed. Then she leaned towards Mimi. And she remembered that Richard had sailed off to
the United States.

  What good would it do to tell Mimi now? The Lieutenant was in the

  middle of the ocean. Somewhere. He was going to make a new life in a new country. It was too late to tell Mimi anything about his visit. It would only serve to upset her further.

  “Well? Giselle. What is this secret you simply must share with me?”

  “Um.” The maid looked down at her sewing. “It’s nothing. Nothing, Mademoiselle. I wanted to get you away from the wall is all.”

  “You mean to say you have nothing to tell me?”

  “No, Mademoiselle. I do not.”

  Mimi was quiet for a moment. Then her eyes narrowed. “Please go. I cannot even trust you anymore. Giselle! I never thought you would side with my mother this way. Leave, now. If I need anything, I will ring Nancy.”

  “But, Miss Mimi.”

  “Go Giselle. Leave this instant.”

  Giselle lowered her chin and stood up from the chair. She gave Mimi a small curtsy and left the chamber. It was better not to make Mimi any more upset. Marie would have Giselle’s head if that were to happen. Giselle glanced back over her shoulder. Mimi’s face was to the wall side of the bed again. Giselle turned away and slowly walked downstairs to the servants’ hall.

  Chapter 17

  London

  Spring 1817

  Mimi sat at her dressing table in the new house, Temple Abbey. She looked at her reflection in the looking glass and made a face at herself. She and her mother were living the lives of the landed gentry.

  The house was not huge, but it was very elegant with expensive furnishings, paintings on the walls, and plush carpets. Gorgeous chandeliers and wall sconces holding beeswax candles lit the rooms. There were eight bedrooms, the drawing room, library, family sitting room, and dining room. One half of the second floor housed a series of six adjoining medium sized rooms that could be opened to a large room on the other half of the floor. Everything opened up into a beautiful, large ballroom.

  Mimi found life in the country a little boring in spite of the lovely park and woods surrounding the house. Immediately outside there were landscaped gardens for walking and taking the fresh air. Mimi knew she should feel grateful, but she was not happy. Her mother, however, appeared beside herself with joy.

  Mother and daughter had been here, in Isleworth, since late summer. They’d spent quiet holidays with Marie’s friends, the Hudsons, who had come to stay until a full week into the new year.

  For the next year, Marie planned to host an extravagant ball to show off to the neighbours. Her main occupation of the moment was locating the best floor chalk artist to do up the huge, hardwood ballroom floor.

  Marie had found herself being courted by a man whose family was three generations deep in the county parish she and Mimi now called home.

  The man was very rich, and Mimi hoped they would soon marry. Then Marie would go to live at his larger, grander estate leaving Mimi to fend for herself at the Abbey until the wedding.

  Hertford, of course, had picked the estate Mimi and her mother now inhabited. It was a mere ten miles from London. And while it was a tranquil, bucolic area, it was close enough to the city that the Duke could visit Mimi whenever the mood struck him.

  After the onset of their engagement, Hertford had almost immediately proven himself to be a self-centred and manipulative man. He never took Mimi out in the local town, and London was out of the question. Hertford came to Isleworth to relax and spend time with his fiancée.

  After the marriage, the Duke and Duchess would reside at Temple Abbey. The Duke wished for his children to be raised in the country. However, he wanted easy access to London for himself.

  Mimi couldn’t imagine being a mother. But the entire point of the Duke’s desire to wed revolved around it. She regaled him with stories of how she longed to be a mother. He would nod with satisfaction. That was what he wanted to hear. It was what he needed to hear.

  Mimi had figured it out. Hertford needed the security of knowing that he would present his grandfather with his heir. It was Hertford’s Achilles heel, and Mimi had taken a firm grasp of it.

  With the way things were at the moment, it seemed the Duke could take time to enjoy his relationship with Mimi. His whole life seemed to run along entirely to his liking. His marriage to Mimi would take place by the end of the month of May. There was just one peculiar twist he had no knowledge of.

  Mimi had grown to despise him. Yes, she lacked for no material comfort. But the Duke would order her about almost as if she were a servant. He refused to allow her to leave the estate. He expected her to be there to read to him, sing, or play the pianoforte whenever he wished it. He demanded her to play whist whenever the mood for cards fell over him.

  Mimi’s entertainments were dependent upon the Duke’s whims. She would need to drop whatever she was doing the moment he desired her company.

  As for Marie. She gave lavish parties, dinners, and balls. But only for those with a title or with enough money and land to be in the gentry. She appeared to be thoroughly enjoying herself, happy in the knowledge that she was now, finally, where she belonged. Mimi found it disgusting and narcissistic.

  So she plotted. Day in and day out, Mimi thought up fantastic schemes to escape from her golden prison. She had some jewellery that the Duke had given her. She could pawn it, but it would be only a matter of time before word would get back to Hertford.

  There were a great many in London who knew who Mimi was. Keeping a secret from the ton was about as possible as flying. The beau monde knew that Mimi was very soon to be the Duke’s wife. If she were to sell a piece of jewellery, in town or in London, it would be tantamount to announcing that she was looking to run away from her fiancé. It simply wasn’t done. It couldn’t be. Not in this instance, surely.

  The advice she would be given if she were to ask anyone about how to leave the engagement would be to count her blessings. She would be told to give thanks and to keep the Duke interested until the marriage had taken place.

  The country folk, those of the landed gentry, who lived in the graceful country houses of Isleworth, liked the idea of a Duke in their midst. They liked it very much. Mimi would be a pariah to them if she were to express a desire to leave the relationship. Any one of their daughters would be loathe to give up such a beneficial marriage.

  No, Mimi could not go back to London if she wished to be away from the Duke. She might even find it necessary to leave England. And she would be without money or name. There weren’t many options for a woman who found herself in such a position.

  She’d written to her Aunt Marguerite who was back in Paris since the war had ended. Without divulging her real motives, Mimi expressed the desire to come and visit with her aunt.

  According to her plan, Mimi would go to Paris and then ... disappear. Maybe she could make her way to Spain. It was risky, but she could think of no other way to get out of her predicament. She saved every coin that came her way.

  She’d even taken to stealing from Marie, taking advantage of her mother’s absent-minded nature. She’d managed in six months to save twenty pounds and had taken a pair of pearl ear bobs that Marie thought she’d left on the table by her bed. It was on a night Marie had had a bit too much champagne. Mimi had snuck into her mother’s room and filched the earrings.

  When the earrings were known to be missing, Marie had not wanted to discuss it. She had believed her inebriation to have been the culprit. She’d thought the ear bobs had been lost due to her carelessness, but she couldn’t remember. It would never do for anyone to know that.

  Some of the pound coins Mimi had were sewn into the hem of one of her chemises. Some had been covered with fabric and sewn as decorative buttons onto the back of a lovely, yet plain, morning dress. The ear bobs were under the lining of her favourite bonnet.

  The dress and chemise were next to each other in the back of the clothes press. Sometimes Mimi would wear the dress for a few hours in the morning just to be seen in it. That way when she
escaped she wouldn’t stand out as different than usual.

  She was ready to leave at a moment’s notice and had told no one about her plan. As soon as word came from her aunt, she could get moving. Her aunt knew not the particulars of the seeming visit her niece wanted to make. She knew only not to correspond any of the planning to Marie. It was to be a surprise, Mimi had written.

  When the time was right, Mimi would flee on foot into Isleworth. There she would get the stagecoach to Brighton. From there she would sail to France and get another coach to Paris.

  She would need more money than she had, however, and when she was despondent over feeling as if she’d never have enough money to leave, she remembered her jewels. There weren’t many, but what the Duke had given her were fine and worth much. She could sell them for a good price once she got to Paris.