The Untold Tale of the Winter Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Emma Linfield

  “Oh, indeed I do, Your Grace. Such a combination would have heightened any normal levels of envy and anger to manic levels. But you can rest easy, Miss Doyle. Such induced madness is not due to any consanguinity.”

  Lillian felt tears began to form in her eyes, and slowly trail down her cheeks. “So she did not really hate me enough to kill?”

  “I did not say that, Miss. I do think, however, that it probably started out as a normal nursery rivalry but ballooned into true mania under the influence of the drug.”

  “Poor Tabitha,” Lillian murmured. “To be so consumed. She was always my protective big sister and my greatest admirer, or so I thought, right up until that last night.”

  Dr. Gavril looked concerned, but didn’t say anything else. “I believe,” he said, “that other forces were at work. But this next part is not my tale to tell.”

  “Next, I think we should hear from Captain Lewis. It was because of his detective work in the neighborhood around the Clottrahorn manor in London that he set out to look for Inspector Michaels and Constable Michaels.”

  “Former Constable Michaels,” Captain Lewis noted. “There was something about the poisoning of the Earl of Clottrahorn that just did not ring true. The Earl’s immediate family seemed sure that Lady Lillian had done it, but there was nothing about the Lady’s background to indicate that she had access to poisons or any desire to eliminate her husband.”

  The Captain paused, nibbled at a plate of bread and butter set before him, and took a sip of tea. “Excellent bread,” he commented. “Far better than any I’ve eaten in London of late. As I was saying I found nothing to indicate that Lady Lillian was responsible. More than that, the source of the family’s hostility seemed to be Lady Tabitha, which certainly seemed odd. I was even more certain of foul play, when Lady Lillian’s French maid was found near the Thames, drowned. She also, showed signs of poisoning.”

  “Would that not have made the circumstances more suspicious?” asked Evans.

  “Ordinarily, it would. But Lady Lillian’s trail out of town had been discovered, thanks to her sister’s mentioning how she liked to ride in a certain park. The lady was long since out of London before the maid was drowned.”

  Lillian turned her face away. Heloise had been an annoying accessory insisted upon by her husband, but she did not deserve to die. More tears ran down her face, but she did not succumb to sobbing aloud.

  “Some added questions on the street revealed that Lord Charles had been involved in a very quiet operation on behalf of Prinny, and he had gotten too close to something important. Prinny was livid when he heard that Lord Charles had been poisoned, for it meant beginning almost over.”

  “Almost?” Sebastian asked.

  “Almost. Let us say that it has been resolved, and that resolution unfortunately revealed that my brother had been engaged in some very underhanded dealings. Since our faces are far too similar, this made things very uncomfortable for me. In the process of the investigation, I tracked him to Parkforton, where I discovered that he, Billy Bob, and Sara were beginning similar tactics here.”

  “But what did they stand to gain from all this?” Sebastian asked.

  “I’m sorry. I’m really not at liberty to explain. But while Lord Charles was actively involved in the operations, Lady Tabitha and the French maid were unfortunate collateral damage, as were the villagers who were harmed by the measles outbreak.”

  Sebastian bowed his head in a moment of silence as he thought of the villagers who were no more. “Such a lot of destruction for some unknown and probably unimportant political purpose.”

  “To say nothing of one woman’s jealousy,” Captain Lewis pointed out.

  Sebastian turned to Lillian. “Miss Doyle, or perhaps I should say Mrs. Newman, since I believe that the title passes to the Earl’s brother or cousin or somesuch, I have a question that I wished to ask you on Twelfth Night.”

  Lillian turned to face him. “Your Grace, you cannot possibly mean to ask me now, with all that has happened.”

  Sebastian smiled. “I can think of no better time than right now to ask. We have cleared up so many other questions. I have not only seen you in health, but also in sickness. I have witnessed your sheer bravery in trying to take trouble away from people you have come to care about. I now know why you fled from London and began to build a new life for yourself. And while I was prepared to marry a commoner, I find that I need have no such compunction.” He paused a moment to breath.

  Lillian blinked away the tears that continued to flow, and looked up into that dear face. How can he possibly want me after all this?

  But there he was, smiling down at her. Sebastian reached out and captured her other hand. “Lady Lillian, I can think of no other whom I would find so admirably fit to be by my side through the rest of my life. I am asking here, in the presence of all these witnesses so that you will know that I am sincere. My very dearest Lillian, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  “Charles . . .” she stammered. “There needs to be a period of mourning. There will be talk.”

  “Let them talk. And I will give you time to mourn, if you wish. Perhaps a year and a day, as was the tradition for handfastings in the olden times?” Sebastian looked at her hopefully.

  “Are you sure?” Lillian asked. “I’ve had one loveless marriage where I was an ornament on a man’s arm, even though he treated me well.”

  “Do you truly think I would expect such a thing of you? And anyway, I’ve grown very used to you. I would miss reading dull old Latin scholars and adventuresome fairy tales with you and the boys. And I can’t wait to see your reaction to the next creature they drag into the schoolroom.”

  In spite of herself, Lillian began to laugh. “Surely, you would not miss those things.”

  “Oh, but I would. Lillian, please say yes. Perhaps the day after Twelfth Night, in the coming year. Would that please you?”

  “Only if you promise me that if you have even the tiniest doubt, you will be willing to break off the engagement.”

  “Lillian! I am not willing to break off the engagement. If I can get a yes out of you, I am holding you to it. I know quality in horseflesh and housewares, and I believe I’m beginning to understand it in womanhood. Where would I find another such as you?”

  Lillian felt so many strange emotions bubbling up inside her. Could she be sure that this was real? Could she be sure that she would not bring harm to Parkforton and to its lord? She felt a wave of longing for the life that could be possible here. She remembered long evenings reading books, separating out mice, and even the slow worms, strange things that they were.

  She gave a hysterical little laugh, while tears streamed down her face. The rest of the room was so still you could have heard a pin drop.

  “Yes, Your Grace. Yes, because there is no other gentleman such as you in all the world.”

  Sebastian gave a whoop, scooped her up and whirled her around the room. The servants, and the others who were assembled to give evidence began cheering.

  “I love you,” Sebastian whispered in her ear. “I love you today, I will love you tomorrow, I will love you forever and ever.”

  “What’s all the noise about?” asked a young voice from the doorway.

  “Aw, he asked her when we weren’t around to hear,” another young voice said disgustedly.

  “The boys,” Lillian said in his ear. “Whatever will they think?”

  “Let’s find out,” Sebastian said. “Luke, Nick, she said yes.”

  Both boys gave wild whoops that would have done credit to barbarians from the steppes, and dashed to hug Sebastian and Lillian.

  “You did it!” Luke yelled.

  “About d…deuced time,” Nick added.

  “Nicholas!” Lillian said. “Do not use such language.”

  “Wait a minute,” Luke said. “If you become our sister, then who is going to be our teacher?”

  “You aren’t going to send us away to school, are you?” Nick stepped bac
k, looking a little worried.

  “No,” Sebastian said, just as Lillian was looking up at him and starting to say, “What about the village school?”

  “Not the village school?”

  “No, we are not sending them away. But I do think we could probably make the village school better.”

  “How progressive of you, Your Grace,” Lillian said.

  “Yes, isn’t it?” Sebastian said. Then he frowned.

  “What is it?” Lillian asked.

  “Lillian, there is one thing I must ask of you.”

  Lillian felt her heart plummet. Here it came. There was always a fly of some sort in the ointment. “What must you ask, Your Grace?”

  “That you will tell me the truth, especially if you think it will get you in some sort of trouble.”

  “Oh, dear. I suppose I deserve that,” Lillian said. “But I was so very frightened and I didn’t know you at all. I will gladly promise to tell you the truth, but you must promise me something in return.”

  “What is that, Lady Lillian?”

  “That if you want to know something about me, you will ask and not go behind my back to find out.”

  “Do you have any more secrets, Lady Lillian?”

  “Not even one. I had hoped to have a gift for you for Twelfth Night, but what with being sick and all, I didn’t have time to make it.”

  “You are absolutely all the gift I need,” Sebastian said, putting his arms around her.

  “Then I promise. No more secrets, no more lies. Let me mourn Charles decently, for he was as good to me as he knew how to be. Then, I will marry you right willingly, Sebastian Hughes.”

  “And I promise that I will not keep secrets, either. Other than the holiday gift-giving kind. And I will ask if I need to know something. Because you have given me the best gift a man can ever receive, Lillian Newman.”

  Everyone assembled gave another rousing cheer, and the boys danced around them, clapping their hands and shouting with joy.

  Epilogue

  One Year Later

  The entire village turned out for Lady Lillian and Lord Sebastian’s wedding. Even several of the neighbors had come on horseback and in sleighs to witness the joyous event.

  The summer harvest had been somewhat limited, especially the haying, because the season had been very wet. But autumn had arrived in the normal way, and the weather had been no colder than normal.

  January had begun with blustery weather, and there was some question as to whether the wedding could be carried out as planned, but the morning of January 6th, or the day of Twelfth Night, had dawned crisp and clear.

  The bride and groom were both splendidly dressed in white woolen garments, lavishly trimmed with white fur. It was only rabbit, and quite a few bunnies had made their way into the stew pot to produce the effect, but no one minded at all because every thread and every stitch had been lovingly produced by local craftsman. The same was true of the rings the bride and groom were to exchange.

  The orange blossom and baby’s breath of the bride’s bouquet were both grown in Parkforton’s orangeries.

  The groom’s two young brothers, now approaching their eleventh year, attended him. The bridesmaids were Martha Louisa and Mrs. Blanchard. It somewhat scandalized the neighbors, but neither the bride nor the groom cared a whit for that. Sebastian and Lillian had only eyes for each other.

  Thanks to a little coaching from the blissful couple, Parson Jamison’s homily emphasized the importance of honesty, as well as love and devotion as one of the ingredients for a successful marriage. “I promise to be honest always” was written into their vows.

  After the ceremony, long tables were spread with food, and little warming fires were lighted at strategic points all around the courtyard. During the cold days prior to the event, the villagers had smoothed a section of ground, and poured water onto it. The water froze hard, and now there was a smooth surface for skating with no concern for the ice cracking and someone falling through.

  Instead of dancing, everyone, including the parson, strapped on skates and skated to music played by fiddles, horns and drums. By midnight, they were quite worn out from skating and glad to gather around the huge bonfire and wish the cares of the previous year to be burned away, leaving only hope for a better year to come.

  Sebastian had purchased a surprise for everyone: a beautiful fireworks display that was set off after the lighting of the bonfire.

  A loveseat had been set up for the bridal couple, draped with furs of many colors and with woolen blankets and footwarmers. They watched the spectacle from this snug nest and then looked on while the village and castle young folk, including Luke and Nick, joined hands and improvised a wild dance around the bonfire.

  After a time, Mr. Gardener and Mr. Stableman separated out the two young gentlemen, and got them headed toward their beds. Guests began trundling off toward the inn or the castle, and the villagers rounded up their excited youngsters and got them turned toward home.

  “Do you think we could make good our escape?” Lillian whispered.

  “I think so,” Sebastian returned.

  Holding hands like guilty children, they hastened up the castle steps. But they were not to get off quite so easily. Under the guise of retiring, the guests had formed two lines between which the bridal couple skipped up the steps.

  The assembled people cheered and as the Duke and Lady of Parkforton neared the top of the steps that lead into the grand entrance, someone called out, “Speech! Speech!”

  The cry was taken up by everyone. At the top of the steps, Sebastian paused and put his arm around Lillian. “Thank you!” he called out, “Thank you everyone for the beautiful celebration, for being here and for having been part of the life journey that brought us to this point.”

  To this the cheering and shouted good wishes became even louder as the Duke of Parkforton caught his bride up in his arms and carried her inside.

  Before any well-wishers could follow them, they hurried up the grand staircase, then turned off into the wing that housed the master suite.

  When they entered, a fire was burning brightly on the hearth, the coverlets on the huge bed had been turned down and a lovely repast had been spread on the table in front of the fire. But the servants had tactfully withdrawn.

  “Alone at last,” Sebastian said. “It has been remarkably difficult to even have a conversation with you of late.”

  “It has been a very busy time,” Lillian observed. “And it was your idea to expand Luke and Nick’s classroom to include the village youngsters of similar age.”

  “Did you regret it, my love?”

  “Not at all, Sebastian. It has made it easier to become acquainted with the villagers and to learn about the unique talents of these youngsters. Did you regret the afternoons when you were pressed into service to teach Latin and mathematics?”

  “Indeed, no. It meant that not only have I a better idea of the talented youngsters living here, but I now have ideas about how to persuade them to stay, instead of going to London as so many do when they come of age.”

  “The eye-shade manufactory is certainly coming along nicely, and is bringing a good bit of hard cash into the village.”

  “It is. But none of the recently made glasses are a match for the pair originally made for you. Nor do their wearers look as lovely in them.”

  “Oh, you! Those things make me look like a giant bug. But I do appreciate them, very much. They help keep the headaches to a minimum.”

  Sebastian drew Lillian to the wide couch that had been placed in front of the fireplace, and gently stroked her brow. “Do you feel one coming on now, my love?”

  “No . . . no, I don’t believe I do. In fact, I have never felt better.” Lillian nestled against him, and sighed with contentment.

  “I am very glad of that,” Sebastian said with some feeling. The concoction that Sarah, the false maid, had substituted for Dr. Gavril’s medicine had caused lingering side effects, including blinding headaches. There had
been a while when he wondered if his beloved would recover from her ordeal.

  “What if I am not able to give you an heir?” Lillian fretted.

  “I have two viable heirs who are equally willing to become stewards of the estate. Getting another heir is the least of my worries. I love you, Lillian Hughes, Lady of Parkforton.”

  “And I love you, Sebastian Hughes, Duke of Parkforton.

  “Then there is absolutely nothing to worry about.” He bent his head to kiss her, and she melted into his arms.