A Hidden Duke For The Passionate Lady (Regency Historical Romance)

by Lucinda Nelson

  “What do you think, sir?” Constable Thomas asked.

  Inspector Potter sighed. “I think, Thomas, that there is much more to the story than we were told. It is our job to figure out what.”

  * * *

  Edward Egremont, Duke of Bellford

  “Leave us,” the Duke said the moment he stormed in the drawing room, where his wife was talking with the Governess and a few older maids. All the women were startled. The Duke never raised his voice nor sounded angry with the staff of his wife. “Leave us. Now.”

  “Your Grace!” The Duchess sounded offended as she got up from her settee and the other women left in a hurry, curtsying sloppily in their hurry to leave. “What is this about?”

  “Have you ordered someone to murder my son?” he asked without preamble and her reaction was instant. She looked as if she had seen a ghost, eyes wide and then her expression turned to appalled.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You will if I find it is true.” The Duke got closer to her, furious. “Anne, I thought I knew you, but after recent events…”

  The Duchess looked offended. “I am not a murderer, Edward! My choices in life might not have been the best or most noble in the world but I did not send someone to murder… that man. I will not have that on my conscience as well when I part from this world.”

  The Duke studied his wife’s expression and decided it seemed she spoke the truth. He felt relieved and sat on a chair. “Edward was attacked yesterday. The man missed, but it was an assassination attempt.”

  Anne sat back on her settee. “And you thought of me,” she said with anger and sadness in her voice. “He is already here. He already wrecked our lives. I would have nothing to gain from his death but the knowledge of another with your blood being dead and after Kathleen... You may think of me as you will, but I have no intention of arranging his death.”

  “What happened to us, Anne?” the Duke asked, looking at her with weary eyes. “It has been decades. We should have learned how to trust each other, by now. Instead I cheated, you lied and the consequences of those actions…”

  The Duchess looked away. “I was a petulant child who wanted to do better than my sister. You were a young man who was lost and you never found yourself while with me,” she said. “You looked so besotted with that maid. You never looked at me that way. You grew to love me in a way, but never like you loved Daisy Taunton.” She said the name as if it was poison and to her. It probably was.

  “Having Kathleen united us. Taking care of her, seeing her grow up. Losing her, though… it was the worst pain a person could ever feel but we endured. Together. It was not what I wanted when I asked God to make us stronger, but it did. Now… it is all gone. You even thought I would have sent someone to kill… your son.”

  The Duke sighed. “Edward will pull through. He is a strong lad. I am sorry for thinking you had anything to do with this.”

  The Duchess looked at her husband and shook her head slightly. “I do not blame you. I can see why you would think so.”

  “We cannot go on like this, Anne. For our sake, for the sake of others, we must find a way to live together in harmony or even just in relative peace. I am not letting my son stray away from me now that we know each other. He is a very good man.”

  She looked away, thinking. “I have met Miss Clifford.”

  He was surprised with the change in the subject. “Yes?”

  “I am… willing to ask her for dinner, alongside with Mr. McAlister.” The Duchess raised her chin, trying to look as prideful as ever. “She was determined to marry him and I quite like her, really. I… I think if we are ever to get along together, I must face the fact I will see him once in a while and it is better if I learn to endure him in private, first.”

  The Duke was surprised with his wife’s logic. He knew the very sight of Edward made her angry and heartbroken. Yet… she was trying to please him, trying to make amends in her own way.

  At that point, the Duke didn’t know if he loved, hated, or was frustrated with her. Maybe all of the feelings together, mixed.

  “I will arrange a dinner as soon as Edward gets better and I will let you know so you can invite Miss Clifford and take care of the details.”

  “Very well.” Anne nodded with as much poise as she could, given the situation. She might not have given the Duke the male heir they all waited for, but she had given him Kathleen. For that, he would always love her and be grateful. “I promise I will be cordial with Mr. McAlister.”

  The Duke was grateful then. For Daisy to have changed their names to McAlister; he didn’t think his wife would be able to say the name Taunton too many times without it getting on her nerves.

  A knock made the couple look up at the way of the door and after a moment, the butler came in.

  “Constable Ralph Thomas, Your Graces,” he said with a deep voice and the constable he had seen earlier at Edward’s bedroom got inside and bowed, his hat under his arm and he looked bewitched with the beautiful decoration.

  “Your Graces.”

  The Duke’s heart began racing. Had something happened to Edward while he was away? Did he just lose another child to the cruel world he lived in?

  “Constable,” the Duke finally found his voice. “What brings you by? Is Mr. McAlister alright?”

  The young constable seemed confused for a moment. “I know nothing of Mr. McAlister’s well-being since I left this morning, my lord.” The Duke breathed in relief. The doctor had been very positive regarding Edward’s recovery just a little over an hour before. “You asked the Inspector for any sort of news about the case. I am here with an update, my lord.”

  With a frown, the Duke asked, “What news do you bring?”

  The constable hesitated but finally found courage to speak. “The man who attacked Mr. McAlister, sir. Walter Haynes. He was found dead in his cell.”

  Chapter 31

  Mr. Edward McAlister

  If there was something Edward hated ever since he was a child, it was to be seen as someone who couldn’t take care of himself and sadly, his gunshot wound prevented him from doing much for the first few days. Infection was the main concern at that point.

  He sure didn’t mind Mr. Clifford allowing Selina to visit him every day. Sometimes with her grandmother, other times with her maid Vivian whom, he found out, always had something to do outside, whatever room they were in.

  Selina’s kisses were curing him much better than the awful smelling unguents his doctor was trying on him.

  “The Duchess sent me a letter,” Selina told him. They were sitting by the fire and Vivian had made herself scarce for a few minutes so the red-haired woman could be in the position she was in; holding his hand, thumb caressing his skin, head on his shoulder after kissing him thoroughly for a while. “She invited me to dinner in two days.”

  Edward sighed. “My father asked the same of me. I would rather not be anywhere near her, but she is very influential. If that’s what we must do to get your father’s full approval, I will gladly suffer through a few dinners.”

  Selina chuckled. “I am glad. She is very entertaining.” When Edward gave her a look, Selina quickly added. “I have not forgotten what she has done to your mother, Edward. I know it was despicable, but I am saying we are starting our lives together and I would rather not have any more bad feelings between our families. I am not asking you to forget or forgive, just to be cordial.”

  He could see her logic. Edward would never like the woman, but for everyone’s sake, he needed to be polite just as he was raised.

  “We still don’t know who wants me dead. My money is on her,” he joked.

  Selina shuddered and he regretted making the joke immediately. “Do not even joke about that, Edward. We know it wasn’t her and the man who tried was killed in his holding cell. I do not like this. You could step outside this house and there could be someone else trying to finish what Haynes started.”

  “No, Selina.” He pulled her closer for a kiss. “I di
d not mean to make you upset, my love. Look, I am being very careful. I think this was a desperate man and I am sure the danger is gone now,” he hoped, but didn’t believe it.

  “Then, why did Haynes die just a few hours after getting arrested?” Selina asked, her beautiful blue eyes determined as always. God, he loved her.

  “We may never know. He could have started a fight,” he tried to appease her.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You and I both know who most likely did this,” she said in a whisper and of course he understood whom she meant. Reginald Ainsworth. “And while he thinks he got away with it, I do not like one bit about you walking around town on your own.”

  “As I said, I am being careful and I am not going out much.” He pointed to his left side with his chin. “Just a couple of errands, and in a couple of days, this awful dinner we must attend.”

  “Edward… I won’t bear it if anything happens to you.”

  “Nothing will happen to me. I promise,” he said trying to sound cheerful. “Now tell me about the dinner and what to expect of the Duchess, since you talked to her more than I did.”

  * * *

  Anne Egremont, Duchess of Bellford

  What would her mother say if she saw her youngest daughter, the Duchess, holding a dinner in the honor of her husband’s bastard? Probably have a heart attack again, God rest her soul.

  In spite of her hopes, Edward McAlister was a perfect gentleman throughout the dinner, polite and asking the right questions and showing interest in everything that was being said, even by her.

  He was the perfect suitor for Miss Clifford. Annoyingly so. He was handsome even with his arm in a sling for support.

  Just looking at him made Anne feel uneasy. It was as if she, somehow, had stepped into the past and was seeing her husband with just a few differences. Of course, Miss Clifford fell for him, just like Anne had fallen in love with the Duke all those years ago, and got her heart broken.

  Why could he not have been born looking like her? No, that would have been worse. The Duke was already in love with his son. If he looked anything more like Daisy Taunton, it would have been worse for her to bear.

  At least she was used to Edward Egremont’s face.

  “I think since we are such a small party, we should not separate tonight.” The Duke got up and started to button his coat and the other followed suit, Mr. McAlister doing the same movement with the coat and offering his arm to Miss Clifford while the Duke escorted the Duchess.

  “Maybe we should go to the drawing room, dear.” Anne suggested. “I am sure you and Mr. McAlister will be able to find a perfect bottle of whiskey and a few glasses.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” Mr. McAlister answered politely but she could see he hated to be there as much as she, to have him. At least they agreed on something.

  The drawing room was as comfortable as ever and while the men went to get their glasses of whiskey, Anne and Miss Clifford sat side by side near the fireplace.

  “You look stunning, dear,” Anne told the younger woman, honestly. She wouldn’t hold the girl’s choice of suitor against her.

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” Miss Clifford blushed. Her white dress with a pretty sky-blue sash made her look angelical. “Granny helped me pick.”

  “She has very good taste, but it would not matter, my dear. You have a natural beauty. Most girls you know must be very jealous of that.”

  “I do not want to make anyone jealous.”

  “Oh, I know you do not.” Anne patted her on the hand. “It is what it is, though. My Kathleen was the same, really. She was the most beautiful girl and her personality… she had a light inside her that could brighten up a room with just one of her smiles.” Anne’s own lips curled a little with the memory of her daughter – gone from the world way too early.

  “If she looked anything like you, Your Grace, I can very well believe you.”

  The Duchess chuckled, sadly. “She was, my beautiful girl. Just like my husband and… Mr. McAlister,” she paused at his name, still not liking the sound of it, “are alike, so were we. Aside from her eyes. She inherited the Duke’s green eyes.”

  “Just like Mr. McAlister’s.”

  “Yes.” Anne’s smile froze on her face. “Just like his.”

  They looked up as the men approached the fireplace, but did not seat on the settee across of them. Mr. McAlister was analyzing the architecture, Anne guessed, since he dealt with it and her home was absolutely beautiful.

  “Do you like the house, Mr. McAlister?” she asked, trying her best to sound pleasant.

  “Yes, my Lady. The structure is beautiful and I am certain that it is you I should congratulate on the decoration.”

  “Of course, she is,” the Duke chuckled as he took a sip of the whisky. “I have no idea how she does it, but this is one of the nicest places around.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” Anne actually preened herself a little, listening to her husband praise her. In her core, she would always be the girl who fell in love with him all those years ago.

  Mr. McAlister frowned and walked towards a painting. Her heart ached.

  Oh.

  “That is Kathleen,” the Duke said after a moment. “We had it made just a couple of months before…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, instead, he cleared his throat. “This is your sister.”

  She had placed the painting there two years before, and she liked to face it when she was doing her needlework. Oh, how Kathleen hated it. She was very good and was always happy with the outcome, but she would get annoyed quickly.

  Anne talked to the painting sometimes. Maybe she was crazy.

  Anne couldn’t help it, she closed her eyes with the pain. His sister. Kathleen was not his sister. They never even met. She never knew he existed and never would. She was the only thing Mr. McAlister hadn’t taken from her, she couldn’t-

  “I have seen her before.” Mr. McAlister’s calm voice carried and Anne opened her eyes. “Last year.”

  There was silence inside the drawing room.

  “Edward…” the Duke said. “It is not possible, Kathleen died five years ago.”

  “If the likeness of the painting is the same as she was, then I have seen her,” he said with certainty.

  Anne couldn’t take it any longer. How dare he? She got up, anger boiling in her stomach and tears gathering in her eyes.

  “You have some nerve, sir. Coming to my house being what you are. Thinking you have the right to anything my fool of a husband has to offer! My daughter is dead and you are making light of it? I could tolerate you eating at my table, laughing and conversing under my roof, but you have no right to talk about Kathleen. Ever. She was untouched by your miserable existence. She was blissfully unaware of her father’s mistake and it dreads me to think the shame she would have felt to learn about it!”

  Her husband was looking at her as if she was insane. Miss Clifford had a hand over her open mouth, but Mr. McAlister looked as if none of her words affected him at all.

  “I am sorry you feel that way, Your Grace. But that woman,” he pointed to the painting, “I saw in a small village not too far from here. I have a good memory; I am good with faces, even strangers passing by me. I would never lie to you regarding this, not when I know how much she was loved. I am not a cruel man, Your Grace, and I would like for you to understand that even though we do not get along, I would never make this up.”

  The Duke frowned. “What made you notice this woman you speak of?”

  “Her eyes,” Mr. McAlister shrugged. “They were the exact same shade as mine, which is rare. That is why I remember her. I passed by her on the street.”

  “Where? Which village?” the Duke asked, hopeful and when Edward told him the name, he had to put his drink down. “It is close enough to where she fell! Are you positive this is her?” The Duke asked and Mr. McAlister nodded without hesitation. “She could have survived!”

  Anne wanted to slap her husband. What was he doing?

  “Edward!
” Anne yelled and both men looked at her – it was unnerving. “Kathleen is dead. It took us a while to accept that, but she died five years ago. Mr. McAlister’s memory fails him and gives you hope. Have we not suffered enough when we couldn’t find her body after days? She has a tombstone, she is dead!”

  The Duke stepped closer to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Anne. We never found her body, that grave is empty. Our daughter could still be out there.”

  “Then why did she not come home?” Anne asked. “If she is alive, why has she not returned?”

  “I do not know, but I intend to find out.” He looked over his shoulder to his son. “Can you take me to where you saw this woman?”