by Fanny Finch
The Duke of Thornwall swallowed hard, hearing the word he himself had used to describe Lady Elizabeth when he did not know her as well as he did now.
“I do not hear negative things about Lady Elizabeth. She was a delight while she stayed here.” He felt the innate need to defend the woman since she was not present to defend herself. He could only imagine what she would say if she heard the Duke of Argyle speaking ill of her.
She would put on a good face but the Duke of Thornwall knew being insulted would cut her deeply. He was hurt himself by the words of the older duke. He was glad she was not there to hear it.
“I have heard nothing ill spoken of the Marquess of Cramilton. I suppose you were inquiring because Lady Elizabeth was your boarder this last month or so. You are curious how she is faring in London.”
“I am curious, yes. Do you believe the Marquess of Cramilton will show love to Lady Elizabeth?”
The Duke of Argyle’s eyebrows shot up. “Love? What has love to do with it? She will marry him because it is what her father wants her to do. She does not need to love the man. She only needs to bear him children.”
“How does the Marquess of Cramilton feel about that?”
The Duke of Argyle tilted his head to the side. His double chin wobbled when he moved his lower jaw back and forth. “A curious question. From what I heard, he is determined to find a fine-looking woman to bear his children and give his father an heir to the title. I am sure Lady Elizabeth will suffice in that matter.”
“I am naturally concerned for my friend,” the Duke of Thornwall said, swirling the port around in the glass without taking a sip. The alcoholic drink would not make him feel better. It would likely give him a headache that would take days to get rid of.
“I understand. She is a lucky woman to have you as a friend. But it is better that you do not concern yourself with her any longer. It is your sister you should be thinking of. It is time for her to find a husband, is it not?”
“She will find a husband on her own,” the Duke of Thornwall grumbled. “And it will not be the Marquess of Cramilton.”
“No,” the Duke of Argyle shook his head back and forth. “He has already claimed Lady Elizabeth.”
The Duke of Thornwall’s jaw clenched hearing the words.
The Duke of Argyle looked down at his hand, which was still steady swirling the port in the glass. “You have not touched a drop of your port, Thornwall. Are you feeling well?”
The Duke of Thornwall clenched his jaw. He would not be able to hold out much longer. It had not been long enough, he thought, for Ursula to do what she needed to do but hopefully she had been resourceful. Perhaps she trusted Mr. Thomas Barnaby enough to give him the money to give to the townspeople, though it was unlikely.
“I am not feeling well, Sir,” he responded.
“What is on your mind, son?”
The Duke of Thornwall resented the friendly tone the older man was using with him. The Duke of Argyle had told him in no uncertain terms that he was not forgiven for failing to keep Lady Sophia safe during the fire. He had purposefully reminded the Duke of Thornwall of his lost love as often as possible, in order to torture the Duke of Thornwall with the memory.
“I am frustrated, my lord.”
The Duke of Argyle stared at him through narrow eyes. “What has you frustrated?”
“I do not believe Sophia would have wanted this from me. Nor from you. I do not believe she would want me to be miserable and unhappy the rest of my life. She would be pleased for me to fall in love again.”
The Duke of Argyle’s large face was turning red. The Duke of Thornwall did not know how much longer the older man would stay at the castle so he hurried to speak. He wanted to explain himself, though he knew he should not have to.
“I loved her, my lord. I loved her more than I loved anyone and anything in this world. But I cannot love her now, as she is not here to love. She would want me to be happy. She would want to see me prosper and love again. That was the kind of woman she was. You cannot deny that.”
“I do not believe what I am hearing.” The Duke of Argyle leaned forward and set his half-filled glass of port on the table with the tray. “You are turning your back on Sophia. You are betraying her memory.”
The Duke of Thornwall shook his head, preparing for the Duke of Argyle to stomp out the door.
“I do not wish to do so in any way,” he said, slowly, dragging out the time. “I do not believe she would wish this upon me. She would want me to be happy. I knew her well and I realize that now. She would never want me to be miserable. It is not her way… it was not her way.” He repeated the last sentence, shaking his head.
The Duke of Argyle stood up abruptly, dropping his glass of port. It hit the ground and broke splashing the remainder of the drink across the floor.
The Duke of Thornwall looked down at it. He moved his eyes slowly up to the Duke of Argyle and stood up to face him.
“You have done all you can to prevent me from being happy, my lord,” he said in a low, angry voice. “I cannot allow you to do this any longer. I must survive without Sophia but I am not required to live in deep unhappiness. You are welcome to live the rest of your life in mourning. However, I do not believe your other children would be pleased with that decision.”
He stepped closer to the Duke of Argyle so that they were just inches from each other. He stared into the man’s eyes, nearly nose to nose with him.
“You may leave my castle, Sir, and not return. I do not wish to see you again. I will not visit your estate so do not be concerned about banishing me. I do not go where I am not welcome.”
He shook his head. He wanted to step back but the Duke of Argyle would take it as a sign of weakness. He held his ground.
“I will no longer allow you to torture me. You may leave my castle now, Sir. Please do not return.”
The Duke of Argyle’s round face was a deep red. His mouth twitched as if he wanted to say something but could not find the words. He stared back at the Duke of Thornwall with furious eyes.
“I will go,” he said, nodding. “The townsmen will pay for your insolence and betrayal.”
He turned on his heel and marched to the door. The Duke of Thornwall watched him, his heart pounding with anxiety. He could only hope Ursula was successful in her mission.
He waited until the Duke of Argyle was through the door before he followed behind him. He could not get his mind off the townspeople. He could only hope they were safe.
After a few minutes, he stood at the front door and gazed at the Duke of Argyle’s turn in the direction of the arched bridge. He did not take his eyes from it until he could see it no more.
The Duke of Thornwall remembered when he had asked the man for his daughter’s hand in marriage. Their courtship, though it lasted two years, were the happiest days of his life.
So far.
He needed the pain and mourning to be less prominent and important in his life. It was not until Lady Elizabeth came to Thornwall Castle that he realized it had consumed every part of his life.
The townspeople did not know him anymore. They told Lady Elizabeth he was cruel, distant, bitter.
And he had been.
But not anymore. It was time to make a change. It was time for his people to know the Malcolm Hickson, Duke of Thornwall, again. They had known him as a child. They had mourned with him for a long time.
They had known when it was time to stop.
He had not.
He turned back, catching sight of someone approaching out of the corner of his eye.
With a start, he recognized his own coach. Relief swept through him. Ursula was returning.
He waited anxiously for the coach to cross the bridge and come into the courtyard so he could see her face. When the coach was close enough, he caught sight of a smiling Ursula inside. He felt a second wave of relief flood through him.
“What has happened?”
The Duke of Thornwall nearly jumped out of his skin when Lady
Agatha spoke from behind him. He spun around and stared at her.
“You are going to put me in an early grave if you keep sneaking up behind me in that manner.”
Lady Agatha grinned and giggled, covering her lips with her hand. “I am sorry, Malcolm. That was not my intent. I am just light on my feet.”
The Duke of Thornwall stomped to her and swept her up in his arms. He bounced her gently as she laughed.
“Malcolm! Put me down! What has gotten into you?”
The Duke of Thornwall stopped bouncing her and looked squarely in her eyes, a serious expression on his face. “You are light on your feet, sister. You need to eat more and gain some weight.”
He grinned wide and proceeded to bounce her again, threatening to throw her higher each time. She screamed with laughter, pounding him on the chest with her small fists.
“Put me down, brother! You will drop me! I will get hurt!”
The Duke of Thornwall set her gently down, saying, “You must look ravishing at my wedding, sister dear.”
Lady Agatha gave him a curious look. “What do you mean?”
“I am going to get her, Agatha. And I will make her the happiest woman alive, if she will have me.”
Chapter 54
Several days had passed before Lady Elizabeth could bring herself to sit at her writing desk and seriously contemplate all that had happened.
Lady Elizabeth was unsuccessful with her letter writing. Every time she put the pen to the paper, she wanted to write to the Duke of Thornwall. She wanted to tell him of her love and how she missed him so.
She had resigned herself to marrying the Marquess of Cramilton in the early hours of the morning as she sat by candlelight, staring out at the rainy, dark night. Her heart remained heavy but she will do her duty as the daughter of a duke.
Her father would be pleased to hear it. the Marquess of Cramilton would be arriving soon. Lady Elizabeth planned to tell them all at the same time. She did not really have to say anything out loud. Her behavior toward the Marquess of Cramilton would reveal her intentions.
It was not going to be easy. She was not even sure she would be able to say the words aloud. If she could not, she would forgive herself for it. She was doing the best she could under the circumstances.
She forced herself not to think about the Duke of Thornwall or Lady Agatha. If she thought of either one of them, a strange pain constricted her chest, as if pierced by an arrow. If a thought came to her mind, she immediately pushed it away.
She heard horses’ hooves in the distance and knew the Marquess of Cramilton was on his way. A sense of dread filled her. She pulled in a shaky breath and stood up. She had been sitting peacefully, quietly in a lounge chair on the veranda.
Lady Elizabeth walked to the edge of the porch area and leaned on the stone wall, looking down at the front lawn. She had only seen it one time but she recognized the Marquess of Cramilton’s coach. She lowered her head, the corners of her lips pulling down in sadness.
It was her duty. It was her obligation.
She turned and walked into the house, blinking back tears. She had dressed and prepared herself early so that she would have plenty of time to be sad before he arrived. Now that he was here, she wished she had gotten ready a few hours earlier.
It would be the same no matter when the Marquess of Cramilton arrived. Lady Elizabeth realized that and began the descent downstairs, her heart feeling sluggish in her chest. Her entire body was resisting what she was going to do.
The Marquess of Cramilton was a kind and generous man. He was patient. He did not growl in her face the way the Duke of Thornwall had done. He did not scowl and he was not moody.
Instead, the Marquess of Cramilton nearly always had a smile on his face. He did not seem to have any troubles at all in his life.
As she crossed the foyer to the front door, where the butler, Bolton, was waiting to open it for the visitor, she wondered how he managed that. How could someone go through life without any troubles or hardships at all? Had he never lost someone he loved? Was he never ill or had friends he worried about?
In the short amount of time he had spent with her, Lady Elizabeth discovered something about the Marquess of Cramilton that made her think it might not be too bad being married to him.
He was carefree. He would not restrict her or be harsh with her. Her parents told her stories from the Marquess of Cramilton’ friends about his character and none had a negative thing to say. They were all smiling when they spoke of him, according to the Duke and Duchess of Winterset. They heard nothing that would alarm them in any way.
“That is why they chose him for you,” Lady Elizabeth said aloud to convince herself. “Because they love you and they do not want you to be unhappy.” If there was one thing she knew, it was that the Marquess was rarely cross with anyone.
The coach pulled up in front of the mansion and the Marquess of Cramilton stepped out. Lady Elizabeth had to admit he looked stunning. He was truly the definition of handsome. She thought it strange that her heart did not beat harder when a man as good-looking as he was coming to court her.
It was not just strange. It was wrong.
She shook her head to clear it and looked over at Bolton, who had pulled the door open and was standing at attention in front of it. “Where are my parents?” she asked, confusion in her voice.
Smithson looked at her. “They have instructed me to take you to the parlor, my lady, where Phoebe awaits as a chaperone.”
“They are not coming to speak with the Marquess of Cramilton?” She was taken aback. The butler lifted his eyebrows and stared at her as if he did not know what to say.
“I… I suppose not, my lady.”
Lady Elizabeth immediately wanted to run up to her room and hide under the bed. She was greeting the Marquess of Cramilton. Her parents were nowhere to be found. She would be forced to talk to him, the only person he would be talking to.
Her heart sank in dismay. How could she keep up the pretense the entire time of his visit?
As he walked up the steps to the front door, she realized that if she could not spend a visit with him alone now, it would be much, much worse after they married.
She could already picture it. He would be as doting as ever and she would despise him.
She did not want to do that. She wanted to love her husband.
“Lady Elizabeth, you are looking beautiful today. I hope I am finding you and your family well?”
She nodded. “Yes, my lord, thank you. And you?”
He smiled. “I am well.”
“Please come to the parlor, so we can sit and talk.”
“That sounds lovely.” He nodded at Bolton, handing him his jacket, hat, and gloves.
“Did you have a pleasant journey?” Lady Elizabeth detested small talk. Or rather, she detested it depending on who it was with.
She would pass the time of day with the Duke of Thornwall any time.
She shook her head again. She would be doing that a lot for a while, so as to clear the thought of the Duke of Thornwall from her mind.
They went into the parlor together, the Marquess of Cramilton allowing her to pass in front of him. He left the door open and looked around the room.
“Your parents will not be joining us?”
“Not today, my lord. They have chosen to give us time alone together.”
“That is…” the Marquess of Cramilton looked surprised but pleased. “Allow me.” He rushed past her and fluffed the cushion the seat she was heading toward. She looked at him, wondering what he was doing.
He waited until she got to him and put his hands out to help her sit.
She felt awkward, still not understanding why he was treating her with such gentility. She was not a child, nor an invalid. She knew how to sit down without hurting herself.
She forgave his strange overtures as a man who simply did not know how to flirt.
Perhaps that was why he was not yet taken. Once he was alone with a woman, he lost all co
ntrol of himself and did not seem to know how to act.
He began showering her with compliments. Her dress was the most beautiful dress he had ever seen. Her hairstyle suited her well, her eyes were sparkling, her smile radiating.
She smiled and nodded, thanking him for each compliment in a soft voice. He seemed to be reaching for more compliments but Lady Elizabeth had heard enough.
“My lord, may I ask you something?”
He stopped rambling and gazed at her with open admiration. “Yes, of course, my lady.”
