Will hardly dared entertain this thought, because the thought of marrying Susana made his head reel with giddiness. He realized, with some surprise, that he wanted that very, very much.
If only I could be sure of her feelings. Then again, there was more to this than feelings. The logistical and social implications were far too great.
Then, there had been her comments about him marrying someone else. Followed by her hopes that she would find a husband soon, so that Will could get married and look after someone else.
Well, Susie, I do not want to look after anyone else.
The thought of looking after another girl—nay, another lady, for that was what Susana had become—made William irrationally angry. The notion of binding himself to anyone in matrimony except for Susana was ridiculous. Farcical, even. Inconceivable. She was the only person he had ever loved, without condition. And just as Susana had changed in the time he had been away, so had that love. Without him even realizing it.
As he sat on his bed, staring out the window, Will came to the deeply painful understanding that there was no other lady on Earth who could fill his heart as she did.
Yet they could never, and would never, be together. Susana did not love him the way he had started to love her, of that much he was sure. To suggest that he even could marry someone else was as good a rejection as any. Aside from that, Richard would see them both hanged before he would let William sully the family name by marrying a commoner like Susana.
Lastly, they would be ruined socially, for everyone knew that they were brother and sister. Adoptive or not, it would be the scandal of the century if Will married Susana. For his own part, Will cared nothing at all about a scandal, but it seemed that social poise was ever-more important to Susana, and he could never bring her so much pain as to see her a source of gossip and derision once again.
It is impossible, in all ways.
Yet his love was spreading, as undeniable and intense as the heat of the midday sun. Will leaned out the window and inhaled deeply of the late afternoon breeze, laced with the aromas of early summer grass. Somewhere far below was a honeysuckle vine in full and glorious bloom, sending out waves of fragrance to soothe his ragged spirit.
Being at war in Spain had been the worst few months of his life, and he had thought there could be nothing more unendurable. Yet, ever since coming ashore, things had been spiraling out of control, and in that moment, the pain in his heart far surpassed the pain he felt watching his fellow sailors bleed and suffer and die in the ship’s sickbay. Nothing in the world could compare to the pain of a broken heart, and poor Will had not the slightest idea that it was about to get much, much worse.
* * *
That evening, at supper, was the first incidence of the Dowager Duchess implementing her educational regimen in earnest. Will joined her and Susana for the evening meal, only because he felt it his duty to be there with Susana whenever possible.
Upon arriving at the table, Will noticed that Susana had been made to change clothes. Gone was the comfortable afternoon dress she had worn out to their picnic, replaced by a wholly impractical evening gown laden with a hundred pounds’ worth of beads and fringe and embroidery. Susana wore white lace gloves, and her hair was coiffed to perfection. A dress rehearsal, no doubt, for the many social events to come, wherein she would be commanded to perform to a certain caliber.
This level of finery seemed a bit ridiculous to William, who was dressed in his rather ordinary day-clothes and not at all disposed to change into an elaborate costume for the Dowager Duchess’s role-play, despite the fact that the table had been set formally, with twice as many utensils as usual, and the attendant drink-ware and plates and bowls. Several courses were served, too, but Susana was only permitted a small nibble of each.
The Dowager Duchess’s company was difficult to endure, as she spent the entire meal doling out criticism and instruction to Susana. And, even worse, Susana bore it all in meek, complicit silence—not at all the high-spirited chick that Will had come to know and love.
The widow snapped and commanded: “Sit up straight, hold your spoon thus, drink your soup this way, chew more slowly, arrange your napkin, drink more water, take smaller bites.” On and on the instructions went, at the expense of normal conversation, until Will was compelled to interrupt.
“Susana, are you enjoying your tutelage under Her Grace?” said he, ignoring the lady’s look of disapproval.
“It is very... informative,” said Susana, glancing at the widow, who nodded in approval.
“Lord William, this is our first formal lesson at a meal. Would you kindly refrain from interrupting?” The Dowager Duchess offered him a pinched smile. “We have not yet begun our lessons in conversation, and I fear you may be distracting my student from learning proper eating habits and table manners. We mustn’t overwhelm her overly-excitable mind with too much information at once, you see.”
“And what does Susana think of this?” said Will, locking eyes with his adoptive sister. Susana gazed back at him with an inscrutable expression, somewhere between grief and longing and irritation.
“What she thinks of it is immaterial,” said the widow.
“Is it not rude to interrupt when someone has been asked a question?” said Will, earning a shocked gasp from Susana.
The Dowager Duchess fixed him with a look just as inscrutable as Susana’s. Suddenly, Will had the sense that he was outmatched. As badly as he wanted to save Susana from this horrid woman and her so-called education, if Susana did not join the fight, then Will’s efforts were in vain. He balked a little at the widow’s stare, and if he was not mistaken, saw her suppress a smile.
“That will be quite enough, Lord William,” said the lady, and she turned back to Susana, and continued her instruction.
* * *
Breakfast the next day continued much the same way, and while the Dowager Duchess had made sure that Susana’s hair and clothes were pristine and perfect, Will thought she looked awful. The girl had circles under her eyes, and her spirits were low. Susana flinched at the widow’s shrill and clipped tones, and once the meal had ended, the Dowager Duchess dismissed Susana to the library to do some reading on etiquette for an hour.
“Duchess, might I speak with you in private?” said Will, rising from the table. “In the drawing-room, perhaps?”
“But of course, Lord William,” said the lady, smiling at him in earnest. She took his arm upon it being proffered, and William led her to the drawing-room. It was a fashionable parlor at the front of the house, bathed in sunlight at that time of day and, more importantly, far removed from the library. So there was no chance of Susana overhearing the conversation. William released the widow’s arm and stood beside the mantelpiece, resting his arm against it, gazing at the cold hearth.
“I wish to talk to you regarding Susana,” said the young man, waiting for the widow to bristle, but she did not.
“Are you quite sure that is your reason for wanting me alone in the drawing-room?” said Dowager Duchess, coming to stand nearer to him. Her slender hands folded before her.
“What other purpose could I have?” William looked up from the hearth, and saw the lady smiling at him. His jaw dropped slightly, as she took another step closer.
“It is quite all right, William,” she murmured, lifting a hand to trail her fingertips across the mantel. She let them pause beside Will’s, touching his skin gently. “I have deduced that your arguing with me over Susana is merely a way to deflect your true feelings for me.”
“My true... feelings...?” Will said stupidly. “Your Grace, I do not take your meaning.”
“Do not deny it, Lord William!” urged the lady, whipping her head aside in a fit of emotion. “I have seen the way you look at me, and you needn’t be ashamed. I am not so very much older than you, and I confess, I feel the same for you. You are a very handsome and worthy young gentleman, and your brother has told me you are quite shy about courting a lady to be your wife. Perhaps because you grew up w
ithout a mother, you need an older lady to show you the way.”
“Duchess…” Will rasped in alarm.
She reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “You poor, sweet, beautiful gentleman. All the while you have been in love with me, without knowing how to express it.”
“Duchess,” Will breathed, with more urgency, so shocked by the lady’s behavior that he could neither move, nor speak, nor protest.
All during her stay at Silkstone Manor, Will had thought that the Dowager Duchess hated him for his constant defense of Susana. He had thought she disapproved of his lax approach to table manners and had thought she was the most stiff-lipped, straight-laced, utterly unflappable woman he had ever met. And yet now, as they were quite alone, behind closed doors, she had become someone else entirely. Eager to throw herself at him, both figuratively and literally.
Then again, she was a very handsome lady, and widowed some ten years, and certainly not beyond marrying age—perhaps just a decade Will’s senior. Perhaps her attraction to him was not so incongruous, but Will felt nothing of the kind for her. The widow’s advances made him feel cold and squeamish, and he wanted to back away, but the shock of it had rooted him to the spot.
“That is all right, my darling boy, no need to speak,” said the lady, putting her soft fingertips to his lips. “I will do everything for you. There has never been a more perfect woman than I, and hardly ever a more perfect man than you. We shall make such a handsome and respectable couple, and I will make you sublimely happy.”
“No!” Will managed at last, as the Dowager Duchess was inching closer to his face, no doubt intending to steal a kiss from him. He stepped backwards and attempted to extract himself from her touch, but she fell upon him immediately. She took his hands as soon as he pulled away, closing the distance between them deftly, until she had quite literally backed him into a corner.
Will stood with his back rigid against the wall, wide-eyed with terror, as the widow’s lithe, slim body came to rest against his. She ran a hand through his hair, and smiled a smoldering, knowing smile.
“Do not play coy with me, Lord William, I know much about gentlemen, and I know you,” she murmured, brushing her thumb across his cheek. “I know you admire me, and the feeling is quite mutual, I assure you. Do not be afraid! Give yourself over to our love, you shall not regret it. I was once the wife of an admiral, and he was my world. I should dearly love to be married to a sailor again, and the Duke of Bainton’s much-admired younger brother, no less.”
“D-Duchess, p-please—”
“Call me Cathy,” she said, her fingers tightening in his shining, mahogany locks. “Now kiss me, you beautiful, insolent boy!”
Without waiting for Will’s consent, she put her lips to his. He squirmed and pushed and tried to get away from her, but she stuck to him like a limpet, gripping his hair so hard that he could not wrench free. Knowing it would be painful, he finally tore himself away, though careful not to inflict any injury on the Dowager Duchess. He scrambled backwards with his hands raised, stammering and insensible, only to cry out when the widow lunged for him again.
Just at that moment, the drawing-room doors opened. A haggard-looking Susana beheld, with a horrified face, the sight of the Duchess of Boroughbridge apparently entwined in an embrace, in the middle of the room, with Will.
“Susana, wait!” William shouted, as the poor girl whirled and sprinted down the hall, choking back her tears.
“Oh, the nosy, disobedient little thing!” the widow growled, whisking over to the door to slam it shut. “Pay her no mind, Lord William, I shall speak to her later.” The lady turned about and smiled at Will again. “Now, where were we?”
“Stop it!” Will leaped out of the way before the widow could attack him again. He darted around her and hurried to the door, grasping it just in time to avoid the Dowager Duchess grabbing him. “Duchess, I must insist that you stop this madness at once!”
“Oh, you need some time to adjust to this level of happiness.” The widow laughed, finally relenting. “Very well, young Lord William, have it your way…for now. But you must know that Catherine, Duchess of Boroughbridge, always gets her way, in the end.”
William did not reply, instead following the faint sounds of Susana’s footsteps down the hall, mingling with the sound of her barely-suppressed cries.
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Also by Hanna Hamilton
Thank you for reading The Beauty and the Earl!
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Some other best sellers of mine:
Untold Tales of a Noble Lady
A Duke in Her Bonnet
The Perks of Being a Duke
The Commoner Who Stole Ηer Ηeart
An Unforgettable Ball at Bromenville Ηall
The Defiant Governess of Rosenhill Manor
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Hanna Hamilton
About the Author
Hanna Hamilton has been fascinated with the regency era ever since she was a young teen, first discovering historical romance novels by famous authors such as Jane Austen and Lisa Kleypas. She believes that love was just so much more magical back then, more like a fairy tale. She always daydreamed about finding love herself that way, but since that is impossible in the twenty first century, she decided to write about it instead!
Born in Texas, Hanna Hamilton obtained a degree in Creative Writing, and had worked as a literature teacher before becoming a novelist. When she isn’t writing, Hanna likes to explore the countryside with her husband and two children, gaining inspiration from the natural world around her.
So, come on a journey into love, confusion, and redemption all within the regency era. Hanna hopes that you will enjoy immersing yourself into her novels, and that you too will find a love for old fashioned romance, just as she has.
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The Beauty and the Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 34
