One Night with a Duke

by Sandra Masters

  “Good thought, leave the profit issues to Winston. The Regent likes to toy with his women but not on profit issues if you get my sense.”

  As she alighted from the carriage, Samantha took her brother’s hand in utter excitement at the prospect of not only meeting the Regent but also to speak about important matters. Raven was too good to her. Could it be possible she would be a helpmate to him in his political endeavors? She couldn’t wait to tell her aunt.

  ****

  At Buckingham Palace with the Prince Regent

  Samantha and her brother were ushered into the Prince Regent’s private rooms. His secretary was there to take notes and formalize the results. The Regent inquired about the duke’s recovery, “Ah, Raven is special to me. You do assure me he will recover?”

  “We have every indication from the doctor, Royal Highness. He’s improved as well as can be expected, and for the moment, he’s busy ordering everyone around.”

  The Regent laughed. “So typical of the man. I’ve always admired him his ability to assess a problem and come up with a plausible solution so that each man walks away from the table in the belief they won something.”

  Even though their practice time was short, the excitement was contagious. The presentation took about thirty minutes, and the Regent did ask many questions. Fortunately, they had prepared their answers.

  “I see no problem here and will authorize approval. Do thank Raven for his honorary appointment of me to your new venture. I wish to see the whole of England lit up one day.” He took another puff of his cigar.

  “Lady Winston, I shall hold you to your word that I will receive a Minerva pistol when it is available?”

  Oh, he was such a wicked man with that roguish smile. “Yes, Your Majesty. If you like, Raven and I will deliver it to you.”

  “We have one more matter to conclude, and that is the fate of Sir Henry Preston. I will not go into details, but he is no longer with us.” He addressed his secretary, “Call in my Deputy Minister.” He turned to Winston. “You will want to mention to Raven that Preston not only was charged with attempted assassination, but also with treason to the Monarchy. Those acts could not go unpunished.”

  Her brother answered, “We understand and will convey the message.”

  The Deputy Minister entered the room and addressed the Regent. “You’ve sent for me, Majesty?”

  “Yes. Introduce yourself to Lord Winston and Lady Winston, soon to be married to the Duke of Ravensmere. They are brother and sister.”

  He did so. “The Regent has requested me to conduct a thorough investigation of the assassination and treason charges of Sir Henry Preston. Found guilty with a sentence of death, he had no regrets for his action, save for one. He requested that his black cat suffer his fate since he was a superstitious man, and wished the cat no harm. The Regent refused the request.”

  Samantha tried to hide her expression since she loved all creatures.

  “However, the Regent could not take the life of a creature because of color and had his servant remove the cat to his kitchens, where we are told, he lives a good life. Other details will be provided to the Duke of Ravensmere when it is completed.” He then wished Samantha and the duke good wishes on their marriage, and left the room.

  The Regent placed his cigar in an ashtray, “Please relay to Raven that one of the things I’ve found to be true is that even the most wretched and evil of men have a soft spot for someone or something. Likewise, even the best of men are often tempted to perform a dishonorable deed for a greater good. And such is life.” He nodded to his secretary who rose with the Winstons and walked them to the door.

  When they left the chambers, to the men in the lobby awaiting their appointments, the smiles on the faces of Samantha and Winston told a story.

  They went to the ducal carriage, entered, and then both spoke at once.

  “Brandon, I’ve never been more nervous in all my life.” She exhaled a sigh of relief.

  “Same for me, too. You did well in presenting the Minerva pistol. The Regent’s eyes lit up.”

  They continued in conversation until they were back at Raven’s townhouse. The footmen lowered the steps for them to depart, and both hurried up the steps where Randall opened the door to allow them entry.

  Chattering like magpies, Winston asked, “Is His Grace available to see us now?”

  “He’s is in his study alone. Follow me, please.”

  He tapped on the door and was told to enter. He announced Samantha and Winston, and Randall left.

  Winston was the first to speak; his smile beamed. “Please remain seated, Raven. All went well. In short, we are to present the official documents. He has agreed to sign and seal them. You have done it, by Jove.”

  “Well done,” Raven said. “Now sit and tell me all about it.”

  Samantha couldn’t help but think his smile was worth its weight in British Sterling.

  “Don’t leave out any small detail. I want to savor this moment as if I was there.”

  “Raven, before we start, may we have some strong liquid spirits?” Samantha asked.

  “Of course, I’ll have Randall pour for you.” He reached for the pull cord.

  “I can oblige,” said Winston. “There is so much to tell.”

  The next hour or so regaled with repetition of every word, nuance and the Regent’s every expression. When they were through, all were weary, but pleased.

  Samantha related the story about the black cat as requested.

  “Nothing amazes me anymore,” Raven said. “I now remember he treated that cat like a child of his, or so I was told. In any event, we still need to exercise caution. At least the cat will eat well in the Regent’s kitchens and will be protected. No one would dare hurt the cat.”

  Samantha extended her regrets to Raven. “I feel I have traveled three continents by foot. I will pay my respects to your family and depart. By your leave?”

  “I understand, Samantha. Winston arranges for the carriage, will you stay a moment?”

  Brandon took his leave and smiled.

  After the door closed, he stood up and went to her. “My lady, I am so proud of you. We shall do well together.” He kissed her in gentleness on her lips and he lingered a few moments. “I cannot wait for tomorrow to come.”

  “You must not become frisky, Raven. You’re a rascal.” She kissed his forehead. “I will never forget how much you trusted us…trusted me. I’m at peace. I love you.”

  He placed his hand on her cheek. “Take care, my dearest. You are everything to me.”

  “I don’t want to leave you, but it is best. Tomorrow we’ll be married. Imagine that.” She withdrew from Raven and left the room.

  Afterward, the duke received a message from the Prince Regent that read:

  Ravensmere,

  I must leave tomorrow to attend military intelligence with regard to our treaty, and with regret, we will not be able to attend your wedding ceremony. We wish you happiness on this celebratory occasion. When I return, I will visit you and your new Duchess at Ravensmere.

  I also commend your representatives who have advised you that the charter has my approval.

  Your Grateful Sovereign

  Even in the safety of his home, with his personal staff and family in attendance, he moved cautiously and saw shadows everywhere. Of primary concern was his desire to formalize his marriage to Samantha on the morrow, but he feared that another attempt might occur.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Duke’s London Townhouse, the Wedding Day

  Raven asked question after question of Randall, who advised him the servants of Winston House were enlisted to assist his staff. A royal confectioner was engaged to provide the family wedding luncheon, compliments of the Regent, which was in itself a grand affair despite the short notice. With such a provider, there was no cause to worry about poisoning. Yet Raven worried. He wanted the day to be perfect for him, his bride, and guests.

  He was resplendent in his brocade attire. Saman
tha wore her formerly purloined betrothal gown that matched his groom outfit. The color well suited her. They exchanged vows in the smaller drawing room and gazed at each other in wonder. There were tears shed by the family and selected close friends who were beside themselves with joy for the couple.

  After signing the register making their marriage official, now man and wife, the Duke and Duchess of Ravensmere were introduced with all due formality. Lady Minerva expressed delight at the short but beautiful marriage ceremony performed by the Archbishop.

  Raven sighed with relief…and happiness to hold his bride. The weight and strength of his name would protect his child. Amen.

  The crisp accented voice of Prince Nicholas toasted them with champagne, and offered a few words of congratulations. “Let us toast our bride and groom and wish them a life filled with joy and many children.”

  Fluted champagne glasses were raised high. The guests sipped. Nicholas laughed. “Raven, if assistance is needed because of your injury, I am at your service.” His comment caused the guests to chuckle.

  Raven smiled in reply. “Highness, I do believe my bride and I can manage without you; therefore, your kind offer is refused.”

  The guests cheerfully grinned.

  Raven’s bandaged chest and shoulder smarted. He kissed Samantha a moment too long. The fatigue of the long day took its toll, yet he could not let her out of his sight. The conquest of his courtship tested him, but his resolve endured. She was his…at last. The babe was protected. He would have an heir to raise, tutor, and most of all, to love.

  Raven and Samantha sat at the head of the table. Perhaps unusual, but her nearness brought him comfort. When the late luncheon was over, and the servants had finished their chores, the family prepared to depart.

  Aunt Minerva whispered in Samantha’s ear, “Don’t let him exert himself, niece. Strenuous activity would not suit. We need him to stay alive.”

  “Oh, Aunt”—her smile was Madonna-like—“don’t worry, I want a father for my babe that will live a long life.”

  Lady Minerva gathered her nephew, his friends and the Prince. “I believe it is time we left this couple alone. He does appear a bit drained.”

  After the guests left, a hush overtook the townhouse. Samantha, along with a servant, assisted her husband up the stairs to his chambers. His valet prepared his master for a short evening. The door between her room and his remained open. The sound of Raven whispering to his servant was of no concern to her.

  Diandra, the maid from Ravensmere, prepared her mistress for bed. “My lady, wear the lavender peignoir. It goes so well with your hair color. He can feast on you with his eyes.”

  “You are a romantic. Words can have special meanings, too. The fact he lives is my reward.” Samantha gazed in the mirror at her image. She appeared rather flushed, but that could be because of the excitement and exhilaration of the ceremony. She was his wife now, his beloved wife. The wretched morning sickness had abated, and in its place she radiated motherhood.

  The servants left.

  She raised her gaze and saw in the mirror that his handsome presence was in the doorway to the rooms. “My lady, will you grace my bed tonight?”

  She rose from the vanity chair, ran to him and kissed him with genuine warmth. “Is it wise? I am fearful to hurt you, husband.”

  His eyes scanned her face. “Well then, at least, help me to my bed.”

  She did so with great care. He patted for her to lie alongside him.

  Samantha cast a wary eye on him. “You scheme, you wretch, I am on to you, Raven.” Joy bubbled in her heart, for there was nothing that would hurt them now.

  Propped up with pillows, he reached over to the bed table and poured two glasses of brandy with one hand and gave her the snifter. Samantha accepted and savored the scent.

  “To us and our bright future together, I love you, wife, my lady Samantha of the Stars.”

  “And I love you my honorable husband.”

  With brandy still on his lips, his lips feathered hers. “At least I can still do this, but I’m not sure which satisfies more, the liquor or your mouth. I seem to remember the last time we imbibed, I did pour the contents over you in the most interesting forbidden places.”

  “My husband, I would like for you to do that again, but not now.”

  “You spoil my plans, you sorceress.” He leaned toward her again and his tongue flicked hers. “I wish I could do more, but my energy wanes.”

  “My husband, I need you to behave.” She moved away. “I cannot breathe.” Samantha took the snifter from his hand, and placed it on a tray. He pulled her to him. She stilled, so afraid he would open the wound.

  “If you will listen and not pull away from me, there are things I must say so you can understand what happened that made me call you by the late Duchess’s name.” She stiffened.

  “It’s best to discuss this now and put it to rest forever.” His hand caressed her hair as she laid her head on his good shoulder. “When Liana was at death’s door, just before she expired, I made a promise to her that I would never love anyone again. I was bereft,” said the duke in a soft whisper.

  “To love someone with every essence in your being is a gift. To lose that love is a tragedy. So I never allowed myself to become emotionally involved with Lady Louise. I would have been unfaithful to that deathbed promise. It’s important you understand and believe me, my lady wife.”

  He continued, “There was so much anger in me at my unbearable loss. Every reason I had to live was taken away with such abruptness. I asked myself what kind of God sought out innocents and slaughtered them. It might as well have been that. My grief overwhelmed, and it impaired my logic for a long while, but it also froze my heart.”

  He agreed with Samantha she was correct that Ravensmere became a shrine to the late duchess, almost a living mausoleum. He further explained, he did drink too much, but after one particular hangover, reality set in, and he vowed he must survive for the sake of his dukedom.

  “My loveless life went on. Then I met you, my lady. Oh, how I wanted to love you, my irrepressible, insolent, irreverent lady of the stars. New urges and new emotions tempted and then tortured me.”

  The firelight on Samantha’s hair burnished. Just the touch of his fingers to her silken curls pleased.

  “Ever mindful of my promise to my late wife, I engaged in a game with myself. If I pretended you were Liana, then it would not be a broken promise. Can you now fathom my logic? I wrestled with this inner demon who demanded I honor my deathbed promise, and in so doing, I hurt you.”

  “Raven, it’s not necessary to continue. I don’t want you to tire,” she whispered.

  “No, I must have you believe me that in the boathouse, when I tried to conjure up her face, all I could see was yours.” He turned her head to engage his eyes. “You had dispelled the late duchess, but you also forced me to recognize that sometimes promises cannot be made in grief. I concluded that ten years of mourning was more than enough. I wanted so much to start my life again, and with you, dear wife.”

  Tears flowed down her cheeks. “Raven, if I would have known about the promise, I would not have been so angry.”

  “If I had known about your virginity…if you had known about my deathbed promise…if, if, if…” His voice faded. “We have now and forever, my lady.”

  “Oh, my dear sweet, honorable man, how I have made you suffer. You taught me the truth about honor.” She kissed his lips with tender warmth and deepened the touch.

  “Yes, you did make me suffer, and I shall have to extract some recompense from you. Do you have any ideas?”

  She placed her hand on his cheek and let it linger, savoring the moment.

  “Numerous ideas that I should like to explore with you at another time.” She tried to pull away from him, still fearful of his wound. “Raven, please. I don’t think I could endure seeing your blood in a puddle on the floor. Promise to behave. I need you alive and well.”

  “I’m not that foolish, Saman
tha. It’s our wedding night and I can’t exert myself. Let me pretend. Nothing will happen.”

  Oh, the wink he just gave her was naughty.

  “I have something for you. It is under the pillow. Will you get it?”

  Samantha’s eyes lit up as she reached and found a velvet box, a large one, behind an even larger pillow.

  “For me?” she asked with glee. “I love presents.”

  “So do I. I remember well the one you gave me that first night in the boathouse. The catch is a little tricky.”

  Animated with pleasure and excitement, she viewed the tiara in overwhelmed silence, lifting her damp eyes to his. “Raven, A crown for me?”

  “Has it occurred to you that you are a duchess, my Duchess of Ravensmere?”

  “We were too busy playing silly games with each other. I never thought about it.”

  Samantha climbed off the bed to his Cheval mirror to place the stunning piece on her head. In the center was a large diamond crescent moon. In between were their two signs of the zodiac. His was in sapphires and hers were in emeralds. A small angel resided in the crown piece. She turned, and preened, as she glided toward him and exaggerated the sway of her hips.

  “Do you like the way it looks?” she asked in a flirtatious tone.

  “I like the way everything looks,” he said in mischief. “I might just recover.”

  “Whenever did you find the time to purchase this?” she asked in a light manner.

  Raven said, “It was a number of weeks ago. I had it designed as a wedding present for you. I confess. I had hoped you would change your mind and marry me.” He thought to joke with her, “And if you would not marry me, there would be another duchess, but I would have to search far for one who liked the stars.” He observed the proud look that crossed her face and her arched eyebrow. “That was a jest, dear.”

  “This must have cost a king’s ransom.”

  “Come to me.”

  She returned to his bed and sat on her knees. “I love you, my husband. I can’t say that word often enough. It conveys all I feel for you in four letters, and seems inadequate, for there is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep your heart.”