by Vikki Vaught
Around three in the morning, he finally fell asleep, but then he dreamed she did not want to see him. He awoke bathed in sweat and his heart thumping. Needless to say, he was extremely anxious by dawn.
Henry arrived at her home the following morning, only to find a new vicar who told him Melody’s parents had died two years ago.
His heart seized.
His breath hitched.
Good God, how has she managed?
It was all he could do to keep from shaking the poor man. No matter that he used his ducal title to intimidate the vicar, he refused to give him information for some reason.
Desperate for news, he remembered Lady Hastings’ family lived in the village, so he went there to see her mother.
Susan’s mother almost fainted when she saw him. At first, she refused to give him any information. After he explained what had happened to him, she finally gave him an address. Melody was now living in Doncaster.
Devil take it!
Could my life get any more complicated?
Henry returned to Doncaster. At least this time the weather cooperated, and he made it back to his estate in six hours. After getting a late start that morning, it was far too late to go to Melody. While exhausted from all his travels, he could not settle down and go to sleep.
Why had she moved to Doncaster? As far as he knew, she had no ties there. At last, he slipped off to sleep after tossing and turning for hours, only to be awakened by an erotic dream a few hours later. His aroused state was so painful, he had to take himself in hand.
After breakfast, he went to find Melody’s house. Her home lay on the edge of town. It was a pretty cottage, but the tall, overgrown grass gave it an unkempt appearance. He dismounted and knocked on the door. An older woman with a babe in her arms and a beautiful little girl clinging to her skirts answered.
Could I have the wrong house?
He straightened his cravat, giving himself a chance to compose himself. “I need to speak to Lady Henry, please.”
The clearly exasperated woman curtly stated, “I’m sorry, sir. You must have the wrong house. There is no Lady Henry living here, only Mrs. Foster.” Then the woman began to shut the door.
He stuck his foot in it to keep it from closing. “Wait. I know Melody lives here. I demand to see her at once!”
Shock flitted across her face, obviously recognizing his wife’s name. “I beg your pardon, sir, my mistress is too ill to receive anyone. If you’ll give me your name, I will let her know you called when she has recovered.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “So…Melody does live here. Take me to her at once. I am the Duke of Sanderford, and she is my wife. You will not keep me from her.”
The woman immediately curtsied low. “I’m so sorry, Your Grace. Please, come in.” The woman showed him to the parlor. “Please take a seat. I’ll return in a moment.” As she turned to leave the room, she added, “I’m Mrs. Worth, by the way. It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” Then she hurried away.
Pacing back and forth in the small parlor drove him insane, so he decided to follow the woman. At the top of the stairs, he saw his wife’s maid coming out of a room at the end of the hall. He marched toward her.
Millie’s face grew pale as he demanded, “Take me to my wife immediately. Mrs. Worth called her Mrs. Foster. I want to know what’s going on.”
“My lord,” she exclaimed. “We were told you were dead. Oh my goodness, how can this be? Your wife is gravely ill. I shall take you to her at once.”
She opened the door and moved aside. When he saw Melody lying on the four poster bed, he rushed to her side. She looked so frail and thin, he barely recognized her. Her beautiful golden hair hung dull and limp around her flushed face.
Gravely concerned, he asked, “What’s wrong with her?”
“The doctor says she has influenza,” the maid answered, trepidation darkening her tone. “She’s been like this for several days. I can’t seem to get her fever down, and she cannot keep food down.”
Kneeling by her bedside, he touched her forehead, and it almost scorched his hand. “Get me some cool water and towels.” Rushing to do his bidding, she handed him what he requested. Then he wet a cloth and started bathing her fevered brow and face.
Millie curtsied. “Excuse me, my lord. I need to check on the children. I shall return in a moment.”
While curious about the children, he would worry about them later. Melody needed all his attention right now. She slowly opened her eyes and blinked. “H-henry?” Her voice sounded so hoarse, it was barely recognizable.
Gathering her into his arms, he whispered, “It’s all right, my love. I’m back. Everything will be fine.”
Obviously overcome, and in no condition to talk, she closed her eyes. He continued to bathe her with the cool water, praying it would break her fever.
Her maid returned, and he inquired, “When was the last time the doctor came to examine my wife?”
“He should be here soon. He comes by each morning to check on her and leaves us medicine. In fact, we thought you were the doctor.” As Millie spoke, a knock sounded downstairs, and shortly after Mrs. Worth showed a man into the room. Melody’s maid took the children from Mrs. Worth and left.
Desperate, Henry turned to the doctor and blurted out, “Surely, there is something more we can do besides bathe my wife with cool water. Help me here, Doctor. I cannot lose her after finding her again.”
“It’s in God’s hands now. All you can do is keep giving Mrs. Foster the medicine and hope for the best. May I ask, who are you?” The man eyed him warily. “You say she is your wife?”
“She is. I’m the Duke of Sanderford. Why are you calling my duchess Mrs. Foster?” He tried to keep the anger from his voice. After all, it was not the doctor’s fault.
The doctor looked flustered as he bowed low. “Beg your pardon, Your Grace. I have known your wife for quite some time as Mrs. Foster. I…ah, treated her late husband when he passed a couple of months ago. I don’t understand. How is she your wife?”
Stunned by this revelation, a stab of pain pierced his heart. He could not grasp the fact she had remarried.
Millie entered while the doctor asked his question, and she interjected, “Mrs. Foster was married to this gentleman first, but then she was told he had died at Waterloo.” She turned to him and continued. “Your wife took the news of your death hard. She returned home to her parents, then discovered she was with child—”
“What? Tell me the rest,” he hissed.
“We w-were afraid s-she would lose the babe,” she stammered. “She was that upset. Her mother nursed her back to health, and she kept the child. The little girl downstairs is your daughter, my lord.”
Stunned, he asked, “When did she have the child?”
“In January 1816,” the maid timidly answered.
Still reeling from this knowledge, he pushed it aside. He still needed to know about the devastating news of her remarriage. Although he found it difficult to breathe, he asked as calmly as possible, “How did she become Mrs. Foster?”
Millie eyed him warily, then attempted to explain. “She married Mr. Foster a few months after she lost her parents. I think she was worried she didn’t have enough money.”
Too overcome to remain calm, he shouted, “She could have contacted my parents. She would have inherited everything I owned. My God, she was my wife, for Christ’s sake. Why didn’t she go to them?” he snarled, then began pacing back and forth.
“I-I don’t know, my lord,” she stammered.
Melody groaned. He rushed to her bedside and touched her forehead. It felt cool and dampened with sweat. “Thank God her fever’s broken. Doctor, do you think she will recover?”
“She should be fine,” the doctor assured him. “She’s sleeping and probably will for quite some time. I recommend you continue your discussion downstairs so your wife can get her rest, Your Grace.”
Millie remained with Melody while he escorted the doctor out. After the
man left, he located Mrs. Worth in the kitchen with the children. He looked at the little girl and was amazed at her resemblance to Helen. He had no doubt…this was his child. His heart clenched at the realization of all he had missed. This turn of events had never entered his mind. A daughter. Emotions tumbled through him at the thought of fatherhood. The shock had his head spinning.
“Could you relieve Millie and ask her to come here?” he asked. “I’ll watch the children while you are gone.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Mrs. Worth curtsied and left the room.
He knelt in front of his daughter. “What a beauty you are. I know you don’t know me, but I’m your papa. May I give you a hug?”
The little girl looked at him with her startling blue eyes and stamped her tiny foot. “You not my papa! My papa go to angewls. Mama towded me!”
At a loss, he did not know what to say to his daughter. Obviously, she had looked at Melody’s late—what was he? Husband? Lover?—as her father.
Lord, what a tangle.
Millie timidly entered the kitchen and curtsied. “I understand you’re n-now the Duke of Sanderford. If I may ask Your Grace, h-how did you become the duke?”
Irritated, he retorted, “My brother passed in March, and my father in April. When did my wife meet Mr. Foster?”
“I believe she had known him her entire life,” she replied. “I understood they were childhood friends, Your Grace.”
Henry thought a minute, then recalled Foster had been her friend Brandon’s last name. To confirm his suspicions, he asked, “What was Mr. Foster’s full name?”
“Brandon Alton Foster, Your Grace. He helped her find a place to live when she had to move after her parents died.” Millie looked at him with fear in her eyes as she continued. “Mr. Foster accepted a position here in Doncaster. He asked her to marry him at that time. I do know she seemed relieved when he asked. I think she feared she would not be able to take care of Mary Elizabeth alone.”
Her name is Mary Elizabeth.
I have a daughter.
Anger and frustration took over. “Utter nonsense. She should have gone to my family. She had no reason to be afraid. They would have taken care of her and my daughter. She never even wrote them about the child. What could she have been thinking?”
“Your G-grace,” she stammered, “as I-I said before, she m-must have had her reasons. I’m sure she will s-share those with you, o-once she’s feeling better.”
He rubbed his hand over his eyes. He tried to modulate his tone, because he realized he was scaring Millie and none of this was her fault. “I suppose I’ll have to wait to find out more. Thank you for telling me all this, you have been most helpful. Can you watch the children, while I return to my wife?”
“C-Certainly, Your Grace. It’s t-time for them to t-take a nap anyway.” Millie curtsied and scurried from the room.
Melody slept through the night, and he stayed by her side. When she awoke the next morning and saw him, she whispered, “H-Henry? How…I…I must be d-dead. Am I-I in heaven?”
“You’re very much alive, I assure you. Obviously the reports of my death were false.” He tried to keep his anger under control, but his tone sounded stern. He attempted to soften his voice. “I shall explain everything later. Right now, we need to concentrate on you. You have been gravely ill, and you need to start eating. I’ve never seen you so thin.”
Tears rolled down her gaunt cheeks. Unable to stand her tears, he sat beside her and pulled her into his arms. Stroking her hair, whispering nonsense, he tried to calm her. No matter how devastating all this was, he still loved her. His breath hitched, and his pulse raced. He finally had his wife in his arms where she belonged. He would need to have patience until she recovered. They would sort this out later.
“Oh Henry, I’ve missed you so,” she sobbed.
“It’s all right, my love, please don’t cry,” he murmured. “You know I can’t stand it when you do. I’m back, and I’ll take care of you. I’m going to get you some food. Try to rest until I return, all right?”
With a gentle squeeze of her shoulders, he stood and left the room. He returned a few minutes later with Mrs. Worth and a bowl of gruel. Melody kept watching him as he fed her. Once he finished, he handed the bowl to the housekeeper.
The woman told him, “That’s the most she’s eaten in days, Your Grace. I shall return to my duties, sir.” Mrs. Worth curtsied and left the room.
Obviously, she had not been taking care of herself. While anxious to hear her story, she was still too weak. He tried to conceal his anger and frustration, because he did not want to upset her. It was extremely difficult. There were so many unanswered questions rolling around in his mind.
Her cheeks flushed with a bit of color as she stammered, “H-henry, c-can you find Millie? I n-need her to h-help me freshen up.”
“Of course, my dear.” After kissing her on the cheek, he left the room. Once he closed her door, he itched to put his fist through a wall, but not wanting to scare Melody or bring her maid running, he refrained. That would have to wait until he was alone.
Shoulders slumped, he went downstairs and told Millie to see to his wife. Then he informed Mrs. Worth he needed to return to his estate to freshen up and that he would return in a few hours.
He mounted and jerked the reins, sending the horse into a gallop. He made it to the stables at a breakneck pace and threw the reins at the stable boy as he jumped off. Without a word, he stormed into the house and up to his bedchamber, then slammed the door.
He shakily poured a glass of whiskey and swallowed it down in a few gulps. No longer able to contain his rage, he pitched the liquor against the hearth. Glass shattered as his heart split in two. He dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands. For the first time since he was a young child, he broke down. He cried for all he had lost. For Nelson, his father, for Melody’s perfidy in marrying another. At last exhausted, he tumbled into bed and slept a few hours.
When he awoke, he took a wash, dressed and returned to Melody’s house. She awoke in the evening for a short time, ate again, then went back to sleep. He returned to the stables late and tried to get some much needed sleep.
Over the next week, Melody continued to improve. She even gained a bit of weight, now that she had started eating again. He spent part of each day at her side. Their conversation was stiff, and they were not comfortable with each other. He tried to be patient, but he was failing badly.
Finally, Melody brought it up. “Talk to me, Henry. I’m sure you have questions, because I know I do. Where have you been for the last three years?”
How can she question me about my whereabouts?
I’m not the one who married someone else.
Fury he’d been holding in for the past week rolled through him. It ate at his gut knowing his wife had been with another man. That was not supposed to happen. He had to keep his anger under control. She was still recovering from her illness.
He clenched his teeth together to keep himself from yelling, Henry sat in the chair, leaned back, and tried to relax. He took several deep breaths before speaking. “It’s a long story. I’ll try to keep it short.” He told her about his injuries and how Franciscan monks found him on the battlefield and carried him back to their monastery.
“Thank goodness they found you, but why didn’t they contact us?” she asked.
Sighing, he explained, “There was no way to identify me. Someone had taken my clothes. I remained unconscious for almost a month. To be honest with you, they didn’t expect me to survive, so they made no attempt to find out who I was. They thought if I did survive, I would tell them when I awoke. That never happened.”
Clearly puzzled, she mused, “I don’t understand. Why couldn’t you tell them?”
“When I finally awoke, I had no memory,” he explained.
“None at all?” she asked. “How awful, but it’s been almost three years. Surely it didn’t take that long for your memory to return?”
He leaned
forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Almost. It took me months to even remember my name. After that, I started having dreams…of you, and flashbacks of the battle. In January, I fell and hit my head while repairing a wall. When I awoke, I remembered who I was. Father Francis lent me the funds to return to England.”
“But, that was months ago. What have you been doing since your return?” she asked. “Surely, you wanted to see me. But…perhaps you didn’t. Perhaps you found someone else.”
He stood with so much force, his chair tipped back and fell to the floor. Pain so fierce, it tore his heart apart. He roared, “I’m not the one who forgot! You are. God, Melody. How could you marry someone else?”
She burst into tears. “I never forgot. Not a single day or night has gone by when you were not in my mind. I can’t believe you’re saying this.” She rolled over on her side with her back to him.
Henry righted the chair. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. I’m sorry I yelled. Let me continue my story. Then you’ll understand why I didn’t come to you right away.”
Keeping her back to him, Melody sniffed. “Please.”
He settled against the back of his seat. “When I arrived at the park, I found Nelson dying and my father ailing. I couldn’t leave my brother. He died the tenth of March.”
She rolled toward him. “Oh no, I knew he was ill but didn’t realize it was that serious. I thought the world of Nelson. I can’t believe he’s gone.” Tears cascaded down her cheeks, and he sat beside her on the bed, then put his arm around her.
“I’m sure it’s a shock. You can understand why I wasn’t able to come right away.” He gently stroked her shoulder. “After his funeral, I left immediately, but I stopped in London to speak with your aunt. Before I had a chance to learn anything, I received word that Father had suffered an apoplexy. I returned home at once. He died a few days later.”
Melody gasped. “Oh no, not your father, too! I’m so sorry. Oh, good Lord, that means you’re now the duke!”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
