by Rose Pearson
Andrew could not contain himself any longer. “And I presume ‘Miss Blakely’ is not her real name?”
“Oh, it is real enough!” the Duke replied, throwing him a hard look. “Blakely is an old family name and it was put there on her birth certificate. Not likely that anyone would be able to trace her back to our family, however, especially since Miss Skelton assured me that she would keep all that under lock and key.”
Elsbeth shook her head. “Miss Skelton always disliked me.”
“Of course, she did,” the Duke replied, disparagingly. “You are illegitimate. An unwanted child. A mistake. A shame to our family that must be hidden. Miss Skelton, being as pious as she was, had nothing but dislike for you. She only put up with you because she was generously reimbursed for the trouble.”
“And why ensure that I had a good living?” Elsbeth asked, her voice now growing hard as a flare of anger burned in her eyes. “Why give me a good dowry? Why permit me to have the dowry as my fortune if I did not marry?”
Something like irritation flashed across the Duke’s face. “You were never meant to learn of that part,” he replied, brusquely. “Miss Skelton was meant to ensure that you wed before the age of twenty-one but, if she was unable to find you a husband, then the fortune meant that you could make your own way in the world and she would no longer have the burden of your presence on her shoulders. I could have sent you to the poorhouse, of course, but there was always the chance that you might, somehow, discover where you came from and we could not have that. Besides,” he finished, with eyes that fixed on Elsbeth’s face, “I wanted to make sure that, should you ever prove useful, I would know where you were. As it is, you are to become useful to me once more. It seems those years at the House for Girls and the money spent on you have not been entirely for nothing.”
Stepping forward, Andrew shook his head, his lips thin and jaw clenched. “You treat this wonderful young lady as though she were nothing more than a stain on your perfectly white gown. How dare you?!”
The Duke lifted his gaze and fixed it on Andrew’s hot face, his lip curled. “That is because she is a stain, Viscount Radford. A stain that, unfortunately, I must now merge with the rest of the spotless white linen.”
His anger bursting into life, Andrew made to step closer, only for Elsbeth to catch his hand and pull him back. Dropping his gaze to her, he saw her look up at him with anxiety in her expression, her hand holding his tightly.
“Do not,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “I have a home here now. None of this matters.”
“It will matter, Miss Blakely, given that you are to come with me now, in order to marry.”
Turning towards him, Andrew shook his head firmly. “Elsbeth is engaged to me. I will not give her up to another.”
The Duke chuckled, his eyes dark. “My dear Lord Radford. Whatever makes you believe she has a choice?”
15
Elsbeth ignored the Duke entirely, even though her breath was coming quick and fast, her mind spinning with all that she had been told. She kept her gaze fixed on Radford, telling herself over and over that he was the one she could depend on, that he was the one to keep her safe and secure.
“You are to come with me this very moment, Miss Blakely,” the Duke continued. “And I’d ask you to start showing me a little more respect. I am a Duke, after all. You are expected to refer to me as ‘your grace’, although I can see you have some rather poor examples around you.”
He sniffed, again, but Elsbeth forced herself not to give him any of her attention, not until she saw Andrew draw in a long breath, some of the tension leaving his face. Then, taking in a deep breath of her own, she turned back to the Duke.
“I will not be leaving with you, your grace,” she replied, calmly. “I have an engagement here, I’m afraid. I am to marry Lord Radford in a few short weeks.”
The older man did not so much as move.
“Whether or not you think I ought to give you any respect, I choose not to align myself with my true family,” she continued, her voice calmer than she had hoped. “I have found a home here and this is where I shall remain.”
A small, exasperated sigh left the Duke’s mouth. “You are to marry, Elsbeth. My first son, the true heir, died by falling from his horse a year or so ago, having never produced another child within his own marriage. His wife’s womb remains barren.” He shook his head, showing no emotion over the loss of his only son. “Therefore, I am left with the second son – the one who is not even my own blood, to continue the family line. This I will not have.” He tipped his head and sent a piercing look towards Elsbeth. “As much as I dislike it, you are my own flesh and blood and, therefore, you will wed my stepson Lord Drake, and produce the heir. He is a decent man, I suppose and has not yet wed. I have told him that I will procure his bride and so I have. He is already waiting.”
Elsbeth struggled to breathe, feeling as though the walls of the house were closing in around her. Here she was again, in a position where life was being pushed at her as though she had no choice of her own. She was expected to do as she was told without any question, without any kind of thought to her own feelings on the matter.
Lord Radford’s hand tightened in her own. “As Miss Blakely has made very clear, your grace, she will not be going with you. She is already spoken for and, as such, I fear you have made a wasted trip.”
A harsh laugh escaped from the Duke’s mouth. “Miss Skelton told me not to come after you, Miss Blakely, told me that you would be more trouble than you are worth but I’m afraid that I am not convinced. Yes, Miss Blakely, you will come. Else I will reveal that the child within this home does not belong to Lord Radford but to his brother.” He chuckled again as Lord Radford’s mouth dropped open. “Yes, I am fully aware of the difficulties this might cause for your brother and his family, Lord Radford. You did not think that I came here under the assumption that my granddaughter would merely agree to come with me, did you?”
A feeling of revulsion climbed up Elsbeth’s throat.
“I cannot believe you would do this,” she whispered, her heart aching and torn over the knowledge that this man, this cruel, selfish, disdainful man, was her own flesh and blood. “Why would you put this on them? Onto me?”
The Duke’s smile lingered. “Because I expect you to do as I ask and, if you do not, then I will force you to do so. You need to learn, just as the rest of my family have done, that my word is to be obeyed.”
Slowly, Elsbeth began to pull her hand away from Radford’s, aware that there was nothing she could do but agree. She could not allow Miss Sarah to live a life of difficulty, simply because of Elsbeth’s own selfish ambition.
“No.”
Lord Radford’s harsh voice caught her ears, forcing her to look up at him.
“No, your grace, Miss Blakely will not be coerced into doing anything she does not wish.”
“Radford!” the Dowager exclaimed, horrified. “But the reputation! The shame!”
Lord Radford shook his head. “It is what my brother deserves, mama. He was the one to do such a shameful thing and it is his burden to bear. I will not allow Miss Amy to be used as a bargaining chip.” He turned towards the Duke, his stance firm. “Your grace, do as you wish. If it comes to it, I will give my brother and his family a living, but the shame of his illegitimate child will not be used to force Elsbeth to do as you wish.”
Elsbeth’s heart was hammering so hard, she was certain they could all hear it. Her mind was screaming at her to say something, to do something, but she could not think what it was she could do.
“Radford, no,” she whispered, tugging at his arm. “I cannot let this happen.”
He turned to face her, his gaze steady and filled with such gravity that she could not help but shiver.
“No, Elsbeth, please,” he replied, softly. “This is not to be allowed. My brother may be cut off from his father in law, but that will be the consequence of his own actions. He will have no-one to blame but himself.”
“But his wife and Miss Sarah!” Elsbeth protested, her heart hurting for what they would experience. “What will become of them?”
He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “I should have expected you to think of others before yourself, my love. His wife and my niece will be well taken care of, from my own pockets. I assure you of that. And when the time comes for my niece to wed, then the scandal will be old and forgotten, with new ones chasing the beau monde around town.” He gave a small shrug. “Who knows? Perhaps she will wish to know her half-sister. After all, they are family.”
Elsbeth did not know how to respond, both terrified and relieved in equal measure. She looked desperately into Lord Radford’s eyes, her gaze begging him to change his mind but, of course, he remained steadfast.
“Then they shall have my dowry,” she whispered, as he ran a gentle finger down the curve of her cheek. “If this is my doing then I shall give them my fortune.”
Lord Radford smiled softly, ignoring the muttering that was now coming from the Duke. “It is not your doing, Elsbeth. You need to remember that. I shall take care of my brother and his family if it comes to it, showing care and consideration for those within my family. Just as you have taught me to do.”
It was with resolve that Elsbeth then turned her gaze back to the Duke, realizing that not only was her betrothed not going to give in, but that she did not want to give in either. The Duke of Broadshore was not someone she wanted to know and certainly not someone she wished to have in her life. Nor Miss Skelton, for that matter, even though she was, somehow, related to her through marriage. It was all very confusing and yet, through it all, her trust in Lord Radford remained steadfast.
“It appears that things will go just as I had intended,” she said quietly, as the Duke’s eyes narrowed. “I am sorry that you came here on a wasted journey, grandfather, but I will not be going back with you. I will not be used as a pawn in your chess game.”
He slammed one fist down on his knee and started forward, his gaze hard. Gone was the indifferent demeanor, gone was the arrogant sneer. Instead, there was only fury.
“You will do as I say!”
Elsbeth got to her feet and held onto Lord Radford’s hand for dear life, doing all she could to present a calm yet firm demeanor even though she was quailing inside.
“If you will excuse me, your grace, I have some things I must attend to,” she replied, quietly. “I will not say it was a pleasure to meet you, for I have been sorely disappointed to know that you are my family.” She took in his angry gaze, his twisted lips and furious stance as he rose to his feet but felt no guilt nor shame. The Duke of Broadshore was not a man she wanted to see again and the sooner he was gone from Lord Radford’s home, the better.
“I think your time in my home has come to an end, your grace,” Lord Radford added mildly, as the Dowager came to stand by Elsbeth’s side. “Good day to you.”
The duke could not say anything, his jaw working furiously as he tried to find a way to force Elsbeth to do as he wished. The three of them stood together as he stood there alone, united in their desire for this man to be gone.
“Good day, your grace,” the Dowager said firmly, as the door was opened by the butler. “And next time, may I suggest you make an appointment?”
There was no response. Instead, with only one last furious glare in Elsbeth’s direction, the Duke began to make his way towards the open door, muttering under his breath. Elsbeth maintained her strong stance, keeping her eyes fixed on him, unwilling to crack whilst he was still in the room. It was only when the butler closed the door firmly behind him that Elsbeth felt herself begin to shake, overcome by all that had occurred.
Lord Radford’s arm was around her waist, helping her to sit back down, his strength supporting her as she collapsed into sobs. His voice murmured in her ear over and over again, telling her how strong she had been, how proud he was of her and just how much his love for her had grown.
He is all I need, she told herself, her tears blurring her vision as she looked up into his face. I will be his wife. I need not think of the Duke again. That part of my life is over.
“You did marvelously well, my dear,” Lord Radford murmured, as the Dowager rang the bell for tea. “I confess myself greatly astonished at what he said. I cannot imagine how much those words must have hurt you.”
His compassion and sympathy were a balm to her soul, the pain that the Duke had caused already lessening.
“I will not let him take you away, not when you are already so precious to me,” he whispered, softly. “You are a priceless jewel and I cannot let you go. Not for any price.”
A lump formed in her throat as she looked back at him, knowing that every word he said was true. “Thank you, Radford. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” She shuddered, violently. “To go with him, to marry a man I did not know simply to preserve his family line….” She shook her head, her lips quivering. “To be used just as I have been before.”
He held her close, as the Dowager stepped to the window to give them a moment or so of privacy. “You need never worry about that again,” he said, quietly, his lips brushing her brow. “You are to be treasured, Elsbeth. Always.”
16
The following week seemed to pass with very little to concern anyone. Elsbeth spent her time being measured for new gowns, slowly choosing to don the new creations for dinner, whilst remaining in her governess’ gowns during the day. To her very great delight, she received a letter from Mrs. Banks, whom she had written to almost the moment she had become engaged. Mrs. Banks was effervescent in her joy for all that had occurred in Elsbeth’s life, telling her that she deserved to have such a great happiness thrust upon her. Elsbeth read the letter more than a few times before tucking it carefully away, intending to reply to Mrs. Banks again soon. Perhaps, she had mused to herself, Mrs. Banks would, one day, be able to come and live with herself and Lord Radford, perhaps as nurse to the children Elsbeth could, one day, hope to have. It was a wonderful thought and gave her a great deal of happiness.
To Elsbeth’s very great relief, Miss Amy, it seemed, took the news of her governess’ marriage to her Uncle Radford – as he had now told her he was – quite on the chin, seemingly neither delighted nor irritated with the idea.
She was, after all, not yet five years of age.
Elsbeth smiled to herself as she watched the girl play on the lawn, swinging idly on one of the swings she had found tied to a large tree in the center of the gardens. It was, of course, meant for Miss Amy, but Elsbeth often found herself drawn to it when the child was interested in nothing more than running around the gardens for a few minutes.
It also gave her time to think, and she had, of late, had a great deal to think about.
After the meeting with the Duke, the dowager had grown rather icy towards not only her but also her son, seemingly fraught with worry over what the Duke might do with his threats over Cecil’s indiscretions. Radford, however, had remained resolute and had told Miss Amy that he was, in fact, her uncle and that she was to call the dowager ‘grandmama’. The Dowager had not been given any choice in the matter but Elsbeth had, at least, seen a small smile escape from the lady when the small child had addressed her as such.
From that day, the lady had become a little warmer towards them both, seemingly accepting that Cecil’s indiscretions would eventually catch up with him as it ought. She had also been bolstered by the promise that Radford and Elsbeth alike would do what they could for the family, if it came to it. As yet, no news had been heard from either Cecil or the Duke, although Elsbeth was still quite certain that the Duke would do as he had threatened. He did not seem like the kind of man to make a threat only to toss it aside.
For her part, however, she had taken what she had learned from the Duke and chosen to put it all behind her. She was, of course, deeply hurt to learn that the family she had so often dreamed of had turned out to be nothing more than arrogant and self-centered creatures, who both looked
down at her and wanted to use her for their own ends, but the assurance of a brighter future with a man who loved her, a man who had changed before her very eyes, gave her more happiness than the pain she felt over the Duke’s revelations. It had been difficult to hear about Miss Skelton, the news that her father was now deceased, as well as the Duke’s intentions for her but, with a will, Elsbeth had put it all behind her. She did not allow her thoughts to dwell on it but rather thought of her future with Lord Radford. She thought of her trousseau slowly being put together, of her life with him and Miss Amy, of a house that would soon be hers to run. Dreams filled her mind, dreams of children and a family of her own, a home filled with nothing but love and laughter. A home devoid of everything that had caused her own childhood so much pain.
“Do be careful, Miss Amy!” she called, seeing the child almost falling to her knees as she ran, heedlessly, around the bushes that dotted the gardens. She was going to tire herself out which, given the amount of energy she had, would be rather a good thing! She laughed as the child came to a sudden stop, her eyes widening as a small, delicate butterfly landed on her arm, its wings fluttering gently.
“If you want no harm to come to the child, you will come with me now.”
A harsh, angry voice muttered in her ear and, without being able to prevent it, a scream left Elsbeth’s mouth – only for a dirty hand to be slapped over her mouth. Her eyes turned to see a large, burly man standing directly behind her, his smile cruel.
“Send the girl indoors.”
Elsbeth looked back to see Miss Amy still standing exactly where she was, although her eyes were wide as she took in the man by Elsbeth’s side. She made to get up, only for the man to clap one hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t so much as move.”
Swallowing her fear, Elsbeth tried to smile and beckoned Miss Amy towards her. She did not want to bring any harm to the child, knowing that she had no other choice but to do what the man said.
