The Servant Duchess of Whitcomb

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by Vicktor Alexander


  “Did you know His Grace had actually written me a letter as well?”

  Chester’s jaw dropped open. “Did he really?”

  Lady Lucien nodded. “Oh yes.” He looked around the room and pointed at a box on his vanity. “There.”

  Chester rose and grabbed the small polished wooden locked chest. Lady Lucien opened the drawer next to his side of the bed and pulled out a key. He opened the box and retrieved a large stack of papers and letters.

  “Wow,” Chester breathed.

  Lady Lucien grinned. “His Grace has written me many letters since then.”

  Chester looked at all of them contained within the box. “And you have contained them all within this chest?”

  Lady Lucien shook his head. “Oh no. Just the ones I wanted to remember. Some were not worth the effort it took His Grace to put quill to paper.” He chuckled. “For instance: My dear, how doth the stars and sun get trapped in the gleam of your eyes and brighten my day? All my love, Heath.”

  Chester covered his mouth and struggled not to laugh. Lady Lucien waved his hand. “You can laugh, it’s perfectly fine. Believe me, I did.” He pulled out a sheet of paper, and his eyes moved over the words, his expression fond. “Here it is.” He handed it to Chester.

  Chester read the letter and sighed as the duke’s words of love to Lady Lucien leapt off the page to wrap around his heart. Tears came to his eyes, and he quickly blinked them away. Handing back the letter, he nodded.

  “That was beautiful.”

  Lady Lucien didn’t respond, and when Chester looked up at the other woman, he found him looking at Chester intently. Chester felt extremely uncomfortable and rose from the bed.

  “I should allow you to rest, Your Grace. You have endured quite an ordeal, bringing two babes into the world.”

  “Chester, please don’t go,” Lucien called out softly.

  Chester shook his head. “No, no. I really must be off. But, I shall return to see to you, I promise.”

  Lady Lucien chuckled. “You are no longer a maid, Lady Chester. You are now a duchess, remember?”

  Chester paused as he walked across the room. He rested a hand against his own slowly growing belly. He sighed. Blinking away tears he nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. I remember.”

  With those softly spoken words he rushed out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.

  “Wilhelmina, may I speak to you a moment?”

  Orley waited for the housekeeper to acknowledge his presence for a long time and had almost left to try again another time when the gorgeous Tafrican woman turned away from straightening the settee in the library and curtsied.

  “Certainly, Your Grace. Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked.

  Orley sighed. She certainly will not make this easy.

  “Wilhelmina, do you not think you should call me Orley? Or at least Whitcomb, as I am married to your son? We are family now, after all,” Orley pointed out.

  Wilhelmina lifted her chin slightly, and her dark brown eyes flashed in anger. “No, Your Grace, it would not be prudent for me to speak to you in such a manner. Regardless of your relationship with my son, my station in life has not changed, and when Chester is spurned and turned away from the reception halls and ballrooms that you frequent, and you are forced to send him to the country or divorce him, and he and the babe he carries are shamed by it….” Wilhelmina covered her mouth and closed her eyes as she released a soft sob. She shook her head. “When my son has to live in the country or in squalor because his name has been tainted, or he must return to being a maid because he is no longer a duchess, I do not want to know that I ever allowed myself a moment of embracing you and welcoming you into our family.”

  Orley felt Wilhelmina’s rejection like a sting through his heart. Bile rose to his throat. Shame washed over him and he felt unworthy. He knew he would never do the things Wilhelmina had accused him of so viciously, but her words and his father’s low expectations of him collided within him so strongly, Orley felt light-headed.

  “Wilhelmina!” Imogen’s voice was sharp like a whip cracking through the air, so harsh that even Orley jumped.

  Orley blinked and looked toward the entrance of the library and saw the butler standing there scowling at her wife. “You will apologize to His Grace right now.”

  “O-Orley,” Orley corrected automatically, his lips numb, shock and hurt removing all feeling from his body.

  Imogen nodded. “Yes, of course. Orley.” She turned a steely-eyed gaze on her wife. “You will make amends, Wilhelmina.”

  Wilhelmina shook her head. “I will not.”

  Imogen strode forward and wrapped her hands around Wilhelmina’s arms, shaking her slightly. “And what if you are wrong, Mina?” she asked harshly. She stabbed a finger toward Orley. “He is not Lord Ballard’s son, and Chester is not Dwight. What occurred with them will not happen with Chester.”

  Orley watched as Wilhelmina gripped the front of Imogen’s suit jacket. “How can you be certain, Imogen?”

  Imogen smiled at Wilhelmina and brushed her fingers through Wilhelmina’s hair. “Because His Grace married Chester when he did not have to.”

  Orley stood in the middle of the library as Wilhelmina turned to look at him, then nodded. She returned her gaze to Imogen and sobbed on her wife’s shoulder for a moment. Orley was extremely uncomfortable with the woman’s tears and made a move to leave but stopped when Imogen held up her hand. He froze and waited, shifting from foot to foot. When Wilhelmina’s anguish dried up after a moment, Orley was surprised as she walked toward him, her eyes bloodshot, and wrapped her arms around him.

  “Welcome to the family… Orley,” she whispered.

  Orley hugged her back. He looked to Imogen for guidance, who merely inclined her head in his direction. “Thank you, Mrs. Wilhelmina,” he responded.

  Wilhelmina made a noise of protest. “You might as well call me Mother or Mum. It is what Chester calls me. Or what he used to call me.” Her eyes filled once again. She sniffled.

  “Yes, madam,” Orley bowed. He grinned. “Perhaps we should go and find Chester, and you can tell him it is okay for him to once again refer to you as such?”

  Wilhelmina turned to look at Imogen. Imogen nodded. “Go. I will speak to His Grace. I am sure he will find it a suitable reason to be away from your duties for a time. Besides, he is too besotted with his new infants to do more than coo at them at the moment. I doubt he would notice your absence.”

  Orley laughed. “I must admit that I agree with the gentleman’s assessment of the duke… Mother.” Orley would not think about how good it felt to be calling someone by that name. How long had he wanted to be part of a family? And now it seemed he had one, and a very large one at that. All because of Chester. His angel.

  “Well, if you truly think His Grace would not mind,” Wilhelmina agreed.

  Orley held out his elbow and with a nod toward Imogen, led Wilhelmina from the room in search of his husband. He could not wait to see the look on Chester’s face when he finally reunited the young woman with his mother. Perhaps it would make up for all of the mistakes he had made since they had wed, and all the ones he was sure to make in the future.

  Chester stood in the middle of the barn ignoring Missy and Dwight as he stared at the horse in front of him. The horse looked back at him with a very bored expression, and Chester squared his shoulders. He pointed his finger at the large animal.

  “Now see here….” He looked over at Dwight. “What is this blasted animal’s name again?”

  “Ares,” Dwight said with a chuckle. “The god of war.”

  Chester narrowed his eyes at his brother. “You cannot be serious.”

  Dwight and Missy both laughed. Chester shook his head. “Is he dangerous, this horse of war?”

  Dwight snorted. “He is tame. He was given his name before His Grace realized that he was more lover than fighter. He is perfect for you to get over your fear of horses with, Ches, I assure you.”

  Chester in
haled deeply and pointed at the beast again. “Well now, Ares, I am going to brush you with this”—he held up the brush Dwight had given him—“and you are going to enjoy it. You are not going to frighten me, and we are going to become great friends. Do you understand?”

  “Yer… Your Grace, I’m not sure the horse understands people speak,” Missy said with a laugh.

  “Oh, but they do,” Dwight corrected. “Indeed, sometimes they understand us better than we do each other.”

  Chester looked over at his brother, wondering at his words when the horse suddenly reared up. Chester screamed, dropped the brush, ran toward Dwight, and grabbed the back of his brother’s shirt.

  “It is happening again!” he screamed, covering his head.

  “Calm yourself, Chester!” Dwight yelled. He jerked away and walked over to the horse, soothing the agitated animal. Chester panted, looking around the stables for a way of escape when he saw a snake slithering away. He pointed at the reptile, gasping out Dwight’s name. His brother growled and raced over for a pitchfork. Chester watched in horror as Dwight stabbed it and tossed it out the stable doors.

  When Dwight returned, Orley and Wilhelmina, who walked arm in arm, followed him. Though Chester was surprised to see his husband and mother looking so familiar with each other, he instantly felt safe and hurried around the still slightly agitated horse to launch himself into his husband’s arms.

  “Oomph!” Orley grunted, wrapping his arms around Chester’s waist. “Is there aught wrong, my dear? What has occurred?”

  “Her Grace was spooked by Ares, Your Grace,” Missy said.

  “Oh, love,” Orley said softly. “Why were you around the horses, knowing they cause you such distress?”

  Chester looked up at Orley. “Because you love riding, you daft sod. I want to be able to enjoy this pastime with you.”

  Orley smiled down at Chester and caressed his cheek. “I adore you, Angel.”

  Chester blushed. “And I grow fonder of you as each day passes, Your Grace.”

  Chester looked over at his mother, who watched him carefully. He tensed immediately and eased away from Orley. Nibbling on his lower lip, Chester glanced over at his husband and then back at Wilhelmina.

  “Was there something you needed, Mother?” Chester asked.

  Wilhelmina nodded and held open her arms. “I need your forgiveness, my son. I allowed my fears to drive us apart. Please allow my apology to mend the rift and the hurt my silence has caused.”

  Chester let out a soft cry and rushed into his mother’s arms. He laid his head on her shoulder and pressed close. He sobbed and breathed in the familiar scent of chamomile, thyme, and ginger that was his mother’s signature fragrance. Chester shivered as he felt wetness fall into his hair and knew it was Wilhelmina’s tears. He allowed them to cleanse the uncertainty that had resided in him about his marriage to Orley and hugged his mother tightly. He finally had his entire family in his life.

  And maybe now he could fully embrace and allow himself to fall in love with his husband.

  Chester opened his eyes and found himself ensnared by Orley’s gaze. He smiled at his duke.

  Now that Chester had his mother in his life, it was time for him to take his place at Orley’s side as his duchess. It was time to return to Tlondon for the Season.

  The Servant Duchess

  Coventry Estates

  “Presenting the Duke and Duchess of Whitcomb, Marquess and Marchioness of Wilts, Earl and Countess of Leeds, Viscount and Countess of Cheshire, Baron and Baroness of Berks, and Duke and Duchess of Nants, Marquess and Marchioness of Coventry, Earl and Countess of

  Cardiff, Viscount and Viscountess of Wells, Baron and Baroness of Newton,” their butler, Mr. Jones, intoned loudly as Orley and Chester stood at the doorway of the ballroom.

  “Must he say every single title?” Chester muttered beneath his breath as he smiled tightly.

  Orley huffed out a laugh as he nodded to the guests in the packed ballroom. It appeared as if the whole of Tlondon had arrived to their ball, the first of the Season, just to get a peek at Chester. “Well, of course he must, my dear. Don’t you know? There is only one duke in the whole of Angland who ranks higher than I. That is the Duke of Norfolk. The only person who ranks higher than him is the King, his cousin.”

  Chester gasped. Orley chuckled. “Oh yes. Quite scandalous that.” Orley led Chester out to the middle of the dance floor. He nodded at the band. “Let the music begin,” he said loudly. He nodded to a few of the elderly matrons as the strains of a quadrille began and, after bowing to Chester, led his husband through the steps of the dance.

  Orley noticed a few gentlemen he’d served with in His Majesty’s Navy on the side of the room, and he gave them a slight nod, smiling as they inclined their heads in return. Unlike other men in society who would expect Orley to walk over and speak to them, engaging in long diatribes on the best horseflesh, Parliamentary topics, or even hunting, his fellow soldiers, who had their own demons and nightmares, only needed the barest acknowledgment to see them through. As the dance drew to an end, Orley found himself once again with his husband’s hazel eyes shining up at him. He knew Chester was concerned about the ball being a success, and Orley would do all he could to ensure that it was so, even if it meant doing something he hated.

  Being a respectable duke.

  Orley bowed to Chester and offered his elbow to lead the young woman to the side of the room. As soon as they were clear of the dancers, a number of gentlemen, ladies, and debutantes approached them. Bowing and curtsying before them, they stared discreetly at Chester before turning to Orley to make the introductions.

  “My dear, allow me to introduce you to some people. This is Lord Saville and his younger brother, Lady Saville, who debuted just last year. This is Lord Alves and Lady Rutter. And finally Lord Meredith and her affianced Lady Robert. Their engagement was announced only this morning,” Orley said with a bland smile. “May I present to you all, my lovely husband, Her Grace, the Duchess of Whitcomb and the Duchess of Nants.”

  Orley didn’t often like to flaunt the fact he was a man with two dukedoms, but he’d noticed the way these vultures had eyed Chester, and he would not allow them to come over and make Chester feel as if he were less than them in some way. He watched as Chester nodded at each of them with a small smile on his face, his left hand discreetly grazing the bulge where their child rested, which had grown considerably since their visit to Southerby Manor. Orley squared his shoulders as he prepared himself to come to his husband’s aide should Chester so need him.

  “What a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace,” Lady Rutter said with a smile. “Your home is lovely.”

  “Why, thank you, Lady Rutter,” Chester responded. “I wish I could take credit for the fine furnishings you see, but much of what you see was here before I became mistress of the home. I have yet to put my own stamp upon the place.”

  “I am sure that when you do, it will shine even more than it already does,” Lord Alves said with a sneer.

  Orley opened his mouth to put the insolent pup in his place but stopped when he felt Chester’s hand upon his arm. The others in the

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  group looked decidedly uncomfortable by the young man’s remark, especially given Orley’s relationship with “The Duke” and his close ties with the King, but apparently Lord Alves cared not for such matters. Orley tried to recall the young man’s father and searched the area.

  “Well, yes, to be certain, Lord Alves.” Chester nodded. “My time serving as a maid in the Duke of Pompinshire’s employ has certainly given me an appreciation for making His Grace’s home not only one of quality but one of cleanliness as well. But do not concern yourselves over such matters. I am quite sure that if and when you do attain a viscountess for yourself, the maids that she hires will do the same for your home as well.” Chester nodded at them all. “If you will excuse us?”

  Orley inclined his head and led Chester away. He waited until
they were a few feet away from the group before whispering to Chester. “Well done, my lady.”

  Chester grinned up at Orley. “Do you think so, Whitcomb?”

  “To be sure.” Orley bobbed his head. “I was on the verge of challenging him to a duel for impugning your honor but with a few wellplaced words you put him in his place. I am quite proud of you.”

  Chester beamed. “I thank you for your kind words, dear husband.”

  “I do not offer you words of mere flattery, my duchess. I speak only truth.”

  “Which only serves to make them that much sweeter.”

  As Orley walked Chester over to another group to introduce him, he could only hope things went better. A cold shiver worked its way up his spine as they walked, however, and when he turned, he saw a pair of cold green eyes glaring in his direction. Orley stepped toward them, trying to see the face clearly through the spinning dancers, but as they parted, the eyes and their owner had disappeared through the open ballroom doors into the night, leaving Orley with a feeling of unease. Something Orley hadn’t felt since the night in Badajoz when Pompinshire, Yarborough, and Galeon had rescued him and Orley had felt certain they were missing something important.

  “Thank you very much for attending,” Chester smiled tightly at the older woman and turned away.

  If one more person mentioned his skin color, previous profession, or his mother, Chester was going to pick up the nearest tray and whack them over the head with it. Sighing deeply, he turned to look for his husband. He gasped as he saw a beautiful man hand his greatcoat to Mister Jones, their butler, before beginning to dance rather enthusiastically, and Chester merely stood to watch for a moment.

  “Forgive me for abandoning you, my dear,” Orley’s voice penetrated the haze that surrounded Chester, and Chester waved his hand.

  “Ssshh, Your Grace. You must not frighten him away,” Chester said softly.

  “Who?” Orley asked quietly.

  “The enchanting man in the blue tailcoat and gold buttons, white cravat, trousers, braces, boots, dimpled chin, brown hair, and blue eyes. He is dancing there with young Lady Saville,” Chester said, his eyes remaining on the dancing couple. “I think he is an officer, for he handed his greatcoat to Mr. Jones when the dance began.” Chester finally looked

 

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