A Second Chance for the Broken Duke: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance

by Fanny Finch

  They were seated very near each other and after a few minutes, Lord Thornwall reached over and took her hand. He laced his fingers through hers.

  The direction of their seating prevented Ursula from seeing the gentle embrace. But he doubted she would have told anyone. She was their advocate to anyone who asked about the courtship and engagement.

  “In one month,” he said quietly, turning his head to look into her dark green eyes. “Just one month, you will be my wife. We will live in happiness for the rest of our lives. We will have children and a home and spend holidays dancing in the snow.”

  Lady Sophia sighed softly. “It is my dream come true, my lord. It is my dream come true.”

  He got the strange light scent of oil in the air. He glanced around at the lamps in the room but none of them appeared to be leaking.

  When Lady Sophia clenched his hand she was holding tighter than before, he grinned at her.

  “It is your turn to read, my darling,” she said in a smooth, deep voice. Lord Thornwall was filled with a tingling warmth. He gazed at her dark green eyes and could not help leaning forward to steal a kiss from his beloved woman.

  She responded with passion, lifting one hand and placing it on his cheek.

  He was filled with excitement for his future, love for the woman he was kissing and hope that all would work out with no obstacles getting in the way.

  Their kiss lasted no longer than they felt safe. Pulling away from her made him feel cold inside. He wanted to be that close to her again now. Right now.

  Touching her hand gave him tingles. It distracted him from the fact that the billowing drapes were about to knock over a candle that could fall in a very bad place.

  Chapter 34

  Elizabeth listened to the duke’s tale, her chest tight with sorrow. He was describing something that had impacted his life in the most traumatic way possible. The event that shaped his life as it was. He’d experienced so much death. It hurt Elizabeth’s heart but she listened closely as he recounted the story.

  The Duke of Thornwall leaned back against the couch, propping the book on his legs. He read for nearly a half hour before he realized Lady Sophia was dozing off. He jostled her with his elbow, grinning.

  “You are not interested in the book? Shall we choose another? It is not as though we have not read this one before.”

  Lady Sophia looked at him through droopy eyes. She focused on the pipe in his hand and raised her eyebrows.

  “I must have been asleep,” she said. “I did not even know you were smoking.”

  The Duke of Thornwall chuckled. “Yes, you were asleep. You do snore just a little bit. No more than I can handle.”

  Lady Sophia’s smooth cheeks turned dark pink and she looked away from him. He let out another soft laugh and touched her chin with two fingers, making her turn her head back to him.

  “Do not be ashamed, my love. It is like the purr of a kitten to me. I would have it no other way. I am reassured that you are with me, you are breathing, you are mine.”

  She smiled at him. He had never felt such love flow through him as when he looked at her that night. “I am yours.”

  He took her in his arms and held her to him, pressing his face down into her neck. He breathed in the scent of her hair. It smelled like berries.

  “Do you enjoy smoking?” Lady Sophia asked, turning her gaze to the pipe in his hand.

  The Duke of Thornwall held it out in front of him and looked at it, too. “I suppose I do. It is a recent habit I have picked up. It can be soothing. I have several herbal concoctions I use in my pipe that have attractive scents.”

  Lady Sophia nodded. “Yes, I have only seen you with a pipe recently. I find it fascinating. What would you think if I tried a puff?”

  “I do not like that idea.” They heard a voice behind them. The Duke of Thornwall had almost forgotten Ursula was in the room. It was often that way with Lady Sophia. They could be at a party with many guests and he would feel as if they were the only two people in the room.

  They turned to look at her.

  “Ursula, I am not a child. You are only here to observe, not to give me orders.”

  The words were somewhat harsh but Lady Sophia used a respectful, gentle tone when she said them. The Duke of Thornwall said nothing. It was up to Lady Sophia if she wanted to try it. He would not pressure her either way.

  He continued to smoke, taking two puffs while Lady Sophia and Ursula bickered.

  He was waiting for one of them to bring him into it. He was not going to offer anything up until he was asked. Then he would feel obliged. For now, it was just Lady Sophia, being rebellious. He was curious to see which decision she made.

  His amusement came to an end when Ursula did as he expected and asked him his opinion.

  “You cannot think it is a good idea for your fiancée to begin smoking.”

  The Duke of Thornwall lifted his eyebrows. “I am not one to say one way or other, Ursula. She is a grown woman and can do as she wishes. I do not see how trying once will hurt her.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” Lady Sophia said. She reached for the pipe. He felt awkward for a moment, not knowing if he should give it to her or not. Perhaps the chaperone was right? She had been Lady Sophia’s governess for most of the young woman’s life. It did not surprise him that she was objecting.

  He glanced up and looked at Ursula, who was frowning deep. The old woman stood up, distracting Lady Sophia for a moment. He held on to the pipe, watching the woman stomp past them.

  “If you insist on pursuing this behavior, I will be forced to tell your father. He will not be happy with you.”

  “Oh, Ursula, you are overreacting!” Lady Sophia cried out. “It is but a puff! I just want to say I have experienced it!”

  “I will not have it, my lady. Your father would be disappointed in you.”

  Lady Sophia shook her head and waved the woman away, turning back to the Duke of Thornwall. She held out her hand, expecting him to give it to her.

  He blinked a few times quickly, pursed his lips and looked sideways at Ursula. He handed the pipe to Lady Sophia, watching as Ursula turned and stomped to the door, yanking it open with more strength than he thought the old woman had.

  He looked back at Lady Sophia’s beautiful face. Her smile was wide. She was looking into his eyes with all the love she had for him displayed there for him to see. He had never loved her more than right at that moment.

  She giggled, her slender shoulders jiggling. It made him smile.

  She looked down at the pipe. “So how do I work this?”

  He laughed. “It is slow burning. You simply put this tip in your mouth and pull on it. You will get…”

  He stopped talking because she had sucked in a deep breath, immediately yanked the pipe away from her mouth and began coughing violently. She dropped the pipe, covering her mouth with both hands.

  He reached forward, concern making him tense. “Oh dear. My dear Sophia?” He patted her on the back a few times to help her breathe. She looked up at him with a red face. The look on her face was not one of anger or fear. She was laughing.

  Her laughter was not making it easier for her to breathe.

  “I… I do not want to smoke…” she said, through her coughs and her laughter.

  He grinned wide.

  His eyes moved from their focus on Lady Sophia to just over her shoulder, where a strange billow of smoke was rising from behind her chair.

  He looked down and saw the flickering lights dancing off his trousers.

  He stood up, grabbing Lady Sophia’s arms and yanking her to her feet.

  “There’s a fire,” he said it as calmly as he could. “The pipe. It must have set the rug on fire. It has reached the curtains. We must leave here at once.”

  He pulled on her arm roughly and pushed her to go in front of him. “Go. Go. It is already surrounding us.”

  He could not believe the speed of the fire as it traveled along the walls, consuming the paintings, anything
wooden or fabric. It was on their heels already.

  He smelled the distinct scent of lamp oil. Had he heard something about a servant spilling oil earlier in the day?

  Panic streaked through him. How much oil had been spilled? Was it a drip that took up most of the room?

  He looked behind him, scanning the floor but it only terrified him more. Flames were making their way toward them, eating up the rug in an almost straight line. It was as though they were pursuing him. He pushed Lady Sophia through the door and yanked it closed behind him.

  “This is going to spread quickly! I’m going to get Ursula and your father and we’re going to get out all the servants and pets. You go out front.”

  “I want to help you!” Lady Sophia cried, grabbing the front of his shirt. He put his hand over hers and squeezed.

  “No, Sophia. You must live. I cannot bear to live without you.”

  “But I cannot bear to live without you!”

  “I cannot allow you to do this. We do not have time to discuss it. You must go outside now! If you refuse, I will pick you up and take you out there myself! Go!”

  He pointed to the front door and spoke sternly.

  She gazed up at him and just before bolting for the front door, she lifted up on her tip-toes and pressed her lips against his.

  “Be careful, my love!” she hissed and ran for the door.

  Chapter 35

  The duke paused for a moment, closing his eyes and breathing in a deep sigh. He hadn’t spoken aloud of these events in nearly four years. Relating it to Lady Elizabeth felt… cleansing. He needed to move on. He was just beginning to realize it.

  Pulling himself together, he continued his story, determined to get it all out.

  The Duke of Thornwall turned back to the door when he heard a loud cracking sound. He looked up, noticing that the ceiling above him seemed to be bowing. The fire had spread upstairs through the floor. It was most likely in the rooms beside the parlor.

  He backed away from the door and turned to run down the hallway to find his future father-in-law. He slid to a stop, nearly running into the older man when he came out of a study.

  The older duke held up both hands, stopping the Duke of Thornwall in his tracks.

  “Young man! Why are you running. Where is Sophia?”

  “My lord! I already sent her away but we must also get out! There is a fire in the parlor. It is already upstairs and will reach this room quickly. We must go, my lord! Where are the servants?”

  The Duke of Argyle stared at him, frozen in place.

  “My lord!” The Duke of Thornwall scanned the older man’s face. Terror streaked through him when his soon-to-be father-in-law’s eyes slowly drifted over the Duke of Thornwall’s shoulder. They widened and all the blood drained from the older man’s face.

  The Duke of Thornwall looked over his shoulder.

  The foyer had filled with flames. They reached across the hallway, ran up the drapes and licked the ceiling until they reached the chandeliers.

  “Come! Follow me!”

  He grabbed hold of the older duke’s tunic and jerked on him until the man was following him willingly. He went down the hallway away from the front of the house. His intention was to go through the back way to the kitchen. It would also allow him to see if any servants were down there.

  He yelled out “Fire! Fire!” as loud as he could as he ran, dragging the Duke of Argyle behind him. He was grateful when the older man finally came to his senses and was running on his own.

  “Where are you going, Thornwall?” he asked loudly.

  The Duke of Thornwall yelled back over his shoulder. “I am going through the kitchen. I want to see if there are any servants down there.”

  “Get them all out. I must see to Mary. She is in the library.”

  “My lord!”

  “I will be right behind you!” the Duke of Argyle yelled. “Go!”

  The Duke of Thornwall ran through the game room toward the door that would lead down to the kitchen. His heart raced and he thought he might run out of breath but he managed to get down the stairs without falling.

  Three of the servants, the cook, one of the maids, and the butler, were standing in the kitchen, cleaning various items. They looked up in alarm.

  “There is a fire! You must get out!”

  “What about Mary?” asked the young maid in alarm. “She is still up there. And Jacob and Gloria.”

  The Duke of Thornwall’s heart sank. “The Duke of Argyle has gone to the library to get Mary. Where are Jacob and Gloria?”

  The girl’s eyes opened wide. “Mary is not in the library, my lord. She was on the second floor today. They were all on the second floor.”

  “No,” the butler said, shaking his head. “Jacob is up in the tower, cleaning the windows.

  “Oh no. Oh no!” the young maid began wringing her hands. The Duke of Thornwall shook his head, waving the three of them toward the steps that led up to the outside door.

  “Go. Get out. I will go find them.”

  “My lord, you cannot! You will surely die!”

  “I have to see if I can find them. I will be fine.”

  The Duke of Thornwall was not sure if he would be fine. He turned and went back up the steps to the door that lead to the game room. When he got to it, he placed his hand on it to see if it was warm. He pressed his ear against it and did not hear the sound of crackling fire on the other side.

  Slowly he turned the knob and pulled the door open.

  A billow of smoke surrounded him and he pulled up his arm to cover his mouth with the crook of his elbow.

  He pulled out the handkerchief he kept tucked in his upper breast pocket and covered his mouth and nose with it.

  He squinted going through the smoke-filled hallway crouched down. He made his way to the stairs to the left of the foyer and began going up. He could only hope that the Duke of Argyle had left the house after realizing Mary was not in the library. It would be a shame to lose the old man before he really got to know him as a father-in-law.

  So far, the two of them had a good relationship, with mutual respect and trust.

  He made it to the second level and ran down the hallway, throwing open the doors that did not look like they were on fire. He could not get all the way to the other side without going through a tower of flames. He called out to the servants.

  He froze when he heard someone calling back to him. He turned in a circle, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.

  “My lord!” he heard again.

  “I am here!” he yelled out. “I cannot see you! Where are you?”

  “In the third bedroom, sir! I cannot get through the door, something has blocked it!”

  The Duke of Thornwall turned to look down the other side of the hallway, where there were fewer flames. He ran in between the fire that burned on both sides of him, weaving and dodging as wood began falling from the landing of the stairwell that went up to the third floor.

  He prayed there was no one on the third floor.

  He reached the third door. It was the only one blocked by a huge bookshelf that had tilted over as the structure began to give way and cause the floor to shake violently inside the large house. As the load-bearing walls shifted, the floor began to crack, causing it to split apart in the middle from the end of the hallway to the stairwell.

  “Hello?” he yelled out.

  “I am here! It’s Jacob, my lord! I recognize your voice! Is it possible to open this door?”

  The Duke of Thornwall scanned the shelf, wondering why the man could not open the door from the inside.

  “Can’t you get the door open?”

  “No my lord, something has jammed the knob.”

  The Duke of Thornwall nodded. “Hold on!”

  He swept his hands on the shelves, knocking everything off. He grabbed the large shelves and pulled them away from the door as hard as he could, tilting them until they fell forward.

  He saw what had happened as soon as t
he shelves fell. There was a large chunk of sharp wood embedded in the door, acting as a jam.

  The Duke of Thornwall stepped up on the shelves so that he was taller, leaned with his arms spread out and both hands on the door jam for balance, and brought his boot down on top of the shard of wood.

  It splintered and broke, the part jammed in the door sliding to the bottom.