A Rebellious Lady for the Brokenhearted Duke

by Leah Conolly

  Victoria looked affronted, but James couldn’t find it in him to care. Instead, he left, wanting to get as far away from her as possible. He looked for Elizabeth, but she had already vanished into the thick throng of people.

  “James!”

  He heard the voice calling him, but it took him much longer to identify Isabelle coming towards him. “James, where has Elizabeth gone? She was with you when I last saw her.”

  “I was, but there was an accident. Victoria spilled wine on her dress, and I’m afraid she was quite embarrassed.”

  Isabelle huffed, standing on her toes, and trying to see over the crowd. “Oh dear. She cannot be seen in such a state!”

  As a flare of annoyance flashed through James, he understood some of the truth in Elizabeth’s proclaimed disdain for society. Though Isabelle was a kind woman, at this moment she was more concerned about how Elizabeth looked than how she felt.

  “Perhaps it is best that she is left on her own,” James suggested. “She will not cause any trouble this evening.”

  “You do not know her as I do.”

  James’ lips threatened to form a smile, as he wondered what Isabelle’s reaction would be when she found out about their engagement. He didn’t feel, however, that now was the right time to tell her.

  “I spoke with her. She is nervous, but she will recover herself.” He held out his hand to Isabelle. “For now, my friend, shall we dance?”

  Chapter 9

  Nothing could please Elizabeth the following morning.

  It wasn’t the duke’s proposal that was bothering her or even the ball itself. It was the fact that, for one shining moment, everything had been perfect when she had accepted James’ proposal. Then Victoria had ruined it, bringing her to the lowest of lows within a heartbeat. She hadn’t even been able to dance for the rest of the night.

  Marie received the brunt of her temper, as Elizabeth found fault with everything she did, from opening the curtains to styling her hair. As Marie left, Elizabeth clumsily apologized, feeling guilty for the way she had treated her, but still not cured of her frustration. She was in such a foul mood that she considered staying in her room instead of going to breakfast, but her stomach growled in protest at the thought.

  The breakfast room was empty, and Elizabeth silently thanked the Lord for small mercies. She wasn’t sure if she would have been able to handle Isabelle asking her how she liked the ball and praising the venue to no end.

  As she ate alone, her thoughts were finally able to settle somewhat. For the first time since James had proposed, she was able to really think about her decision. A tight knot of fear bunched in her stomach, as the reality of what was happening came crashing down on her. She, who had only last night considered that she couldn’t see herself as anyone’s wife, was marrying the Duke of Darrington, whom she barely knew.

  Elizabeth didn’t regret her decision, but the thought that her whole life was changing practically overnight felt rather overwhelming. Yet, as James had said, this marriage provided the only way out of the mess she was in. She had always feared allowing her father’s estate to go to ruin, and now, with James’ help, she could assist her father. She would also be out of danger from Huxley, and, finally, she would not be ordered around by her godmother and her father.

  But what if James ordered her around just as much? What if he tried to turn her into a proper young lady just like her father had done? What if by marrying James she was only condemning herself to a life of confinement?

  Elizabeth shivered, but was unable to dwell on her thoughts, as the Countess of Chester was announced. Elizabeth set her teacup back on the saucer hard enough that it clattered loudly. The countess was the very last person to improve her sour and anxious mood.

  The Countess’ hair was a little more free flowing today, contrasting starkly with her emerald green dress. Elizabeth relaxed a little, chuckling quietly to herself at how much the woman resembled a grasshopper.

  “Good morning, Lady Elizabeth,” the countess said, with a tight smile. “I trust you passed a peaceful night after the difficulties at the ball?”

  Difficulties which you caused, Elizabeth thought. She didn’t even bother standing to receive the countess. “I slept perfectly well last night, thank you,” Elizabeth replied icily.

  The countess’ dark eyes narrowed. She sat delicately across from Elizabeth and was immediately served tea. “Has your maid been able to clean your dress?” Before Elizabeth could respond she continued, “Though it seems you have plenty of other gowns, anyway.” She eyed Elizabeth’s dress as if she were scrutinizing every single thread. “I imagine you will not concern yourself with such luxuries once you have married Lord Huxley.”

  Elizabeth glared at her. She wanted to retort by informing her that she would, in fact, be marrying James, a man the countess seemed to have an eye for, but she knew she had to wait for James to announce the engagement. Instead, she replied, “One may wear the King’s jewels and still look as cheap as a shilling.” Just as she finished her sentence, Lady Kinsley walked into the room and gasped in shock.

  “Young lady, you should have your mouth washed out with soap! How can you speak in such a manner to a countess?”

  Elizabeth pressed her lips together and continued to glower at the Countess. She met Elizabeth’s gaze, her eyes flashing with a look that said this is not over. Out loud, she spoke in a patronizing tone, “Do not be so hard on the girl, Isabelle. She is still young, after all.”

  Elizabeth balled her hands into fists underneath the table, unable to speak lest she say something that would get her into deep trouble and force Isabelle to write to her father. She felt heat pricking at her cheeks. As much as she was unsure about her engagement to James, she didn’t want to do anything that would put it in jeopardy.

  As Lady Kinsley sat and began eating breakfast, she seemed to forgive Elizabeth for her earlier comment to the countess. “What did you think of the ball last night, Elizabeth?”

  Elizabeth kept her gaze downcast. “It was perfectly adequate.” She shot a look at the countess that Isabelle missed. It would have been a happy night if she had not been forced to sit down all evening after her first set of dances, because of her ruined dress.

  “Adequate?” repeated Lady Kinsley. “I believe it was one of the finest balls I have ever been to!”

  “I thoroughly enjoyed myself,” the countess agreed, casting a glance back at Elizabeth.

  “I saw you dancing with James,” her godmother continued. “Was that not enjoyable? I have danced with him myself and know that he is an excellent dance partner.” She smiled. “I am very glad to see the two of you getting along. James is one of my closest friends. I hoped before you even arrived that he would approve of you.”

  Elizabeth fought to keep a smile hidden at the thought of possessing a secret that would no doubt startle Lady Kinsley immensely. “He was a very good dancer,” she admitted, “and I enjoyed my conversation with him.”

  Lady Kinsley continued to press Elizabeth for more praise about the ball, but after Elizabeth stubbornly kept to short answers time and time again, she gave up at last, and turned to the Countess. They talked of local gossip and important happenings at the ball, while Elizabeth silently nibbled at her breakfast.

  “The Duke of Darrington,” Mr. Campbell announced. The words broke Elizabeth’s angry mood, and she looked up to see James enter the room. He immediately met her eyes and smiled warmly. Somehow, Elizabeth felt herself smiling back. She tried to picture herself as his wife, and for the first time, it didn’t seem impossible. In fact, she thought he could prove to be a very good friend.

  “James!” Lady Kinsley stood. “What a surprise! I did not think you would be joining us this morning.”

  James bowed his head. “I apologize, Isabelle. I did not mean to catch you off guard, but there is something of great importance that I feel you, as my closest friend, must know.” His gaze shifted to the countess, and he frowned, seeming to only just notice her presence. He step
ped forward, however, and stood behind Elizabeth. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

  “Isabelle, Lady Elizabeth and I are engaged.”

  Of all the shocks Elizabeth had caused Lady Kinsley over the past couple of weeks, Elizabeth could tell that this announcement was the most surprising thing she had seen or heard so far. Her eyes became as wide as saucers, and her eyebrows seemed to now permanently live just under to her hairline. She looked back and forth between James and Elizabeth. Unintelligible sounds came from her mouth. In contrast, the countess didn’t look surprised in the least.

  “Well,” Lady Kinsley managed to breathe after several seconds of silence. “This is quite the surprise, James. You do have your unpredictable moments, I suppose. I believe that congratulations are in order.” She smiled, but confusion remained in her eyes. “When did this happen? I saw the two of you dancing last night, but I never thought…”

  “It was at the ball,” James affirmed. “I presented the idea to Lady Elizabeth, and she happily accepted.”

  Lady Kinsley looked at Elizabeth with curiosity. “I must say, Elizabeth, you have made a very wise choice. Your father will certainly be pleased.” Her tone implied that it might have not been such a wise decision on James’ part.

  “I sincerely hope so,” James said. “Which reminds me, Lady Elizabeth, that we must visit your father to ask for his approval.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth agreed. “We must.” She wondered if she should, or even could, insist that he call her Elizabeth. They were engaged after all.

  Lady Kinsley smiled as she looked at the couple, seeming finally happy about what was happening. “I propose a toast to a happy marriage and long, healthy lives.”

  The countess, who had remained silent thus far, scoffed. “How can you salute this engagement with just tea?” She stood and crossed to the corner of the room. “I will pour us some brandy.”

  While Lady Kinsley spoke with James, Elizabeth watched the countess. As she approached the decanter, she cast a furtive glance to the side and reached into her skirt. Elizabeth stood and followed her.

  “What are you doing?” Elizabeth asked, peering over her shoulder. The countess held a dark flask and was pouring it into a glass.

  If the countess was startled by her presence, she didn’t show it. She laughed airily and pocketed the flask. “Oh, I do prefer my own brandy.” She smiled and handed Elizabeth a different glass, already filled from the decanter. Elizabeth took it without question, putting the odd behavior down to the countess’ jealousy.

  They all drank to Elizabeth and James’ health and happiness. Elizabeth shared a smile with James and thought that perhaps, for once, her life was going to be happy.

  Chapter 10

  James visited Isabelle’s house almost daily. He had already informed his mother of his engagement, and while Lady Wordsworth had reservations about Elizabeth Gladstone, she trusted her son to make the best decision and sent him off with her good wishes every day. James was beginning to feel better about the engagement as the days went by and he discovered more about Elizabeth. The only cloud in the sky was that the Countess of Chester had also become a frequent visitor in Isabelle’s home, and she seemed to interrupt him and Elizabeth at the most inconvenient times.

  A few days into this frequent visitation, the party at Isabelle’s house found themselves trapped inside for the foreseeable future due to a violent storm that raged outside. While Isabelle tried to convince the party to play whist, James expressed his wish to play a game of chess instead.

  “Do you enjoy chess, Lady Elizabeth?” he asked.

  Her eyes twinkled with playfulness. “I admit that I have only played once or twice with my father. He always wins within a few moves.”

  “I must teach you, then. It is my favorite pastime.” He looked to Isabelle. “If you do not mind, Isabelle, I would like to play chess with Lady Elizabeth instead.”

  Isabelle smiled. Now that she had overcome the shock of their engagement, she had shown herself happy to give in to their wishes. “Of course, James. Victoria and I can play cards on our own.”

  The countess’ frown said that she didn’t much enjoy the idea, but James didn’t dwell on it. A table was brought out and the chess set fetched. “Now,” James said, as he picked up one of the pieces, “which color would you like to be, Lady Elizabeth?”

  Elizabeth frowned in thought before saying, “I will choose white.”

  James began setting up the white pieces on her side. “May I ask why?”

  “I may not know very much about chess, but I do know that the white player goes first,” she said, smiling.

  “It seems that you already have the advantage, then.” He finished setting up the board and gestured for Elizabeth to make her first move.

  “The first move is everything,” said James. “It can determine the rest of the game.”

  Isabelle sighed from across the room. “You will soon regret playing with James, Elizabeth. He takes chess far too seriously.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes were bright with amusement, as she glanced up at him. “Will you look in judgment upon me if I make a wrong move?”

  “Not at all. Though I can, if you wish, give you some suggestions on how to improve.”

  “We will see. As I’m sure you already know, I do not like being told what to do.” She laughed, but vulnerability shone in her expression when she looked down quickly to move one of her pawns forward.

  “I would never dream of doing that,” James said sincerely, speaking softly. “Though I must say, that move may cause you trouble later on in the game.”

  Elizabeth chuckled, her eyes on the chessboard, as James moved a pawn.

  “Do tell us what you are whispering about,” Victoria called.

  James frowned, and Elizabeth looked up at him in barely hidden alarm. “I was instructing Lady Elizabeth on her best course of action,” he said, watching relief flood Elizabeth’s expression. Though he had only known her for a short time, he knew that he didn’t want to do anything to betray her trust. Perhaps it was because she reminded him so much of Braith…

  The countess barked a laugh. “I find it amusing that though you are engaged to her, you still insist on calling her Lady Elizabeth. There is such a thing as being too polite, James.”

  “And being too familiar,” James muttered, turning back to the game. He could tell that Elizabeth was fighting back laughter.

  All was silent for a few minutes while they made their moves. Elizabeth did play rather poorly, but he could tell that she was trying. He thought that perhaps she was one to learn by experience rather than lecture, so he allowed her to make her own mistakes. Often, she realized her errors as soon she had made them.

  “If you are comfortable with the familiarity,” Elizabeth said after a while, “you may call me Elizabeth.”

  “I suppose the countess is right.” James kept his eyes on the game. “Perhaps I am being too polite.”

  “I believe the rules of etiquette state that once you have formed a friendship with someone, it is proper to address them by their Christian name while in private conversation. We are friends, aren’t we?” Elizabeth kept her eyes downcast, but James knew it was because she was fearful of his response.

  “Of course, we are..., Elizabeth.”

  She seemed to be holding back a smile, as she made her next move. James smiled to himself as well, enjoying the familiarity. It had been a long time since he had been able to be so honest with someone. Even with Isabelle and his mother there were always things he felt he had to hold back. With Elizabeth it was different. They looked past social status and titles to see each other as they truly were.

  “Elizabeth,” Isabelle called, after another prolonged silence, “I am expecting Doctor and Mrs. Steele tomorrow. I did not want to forget to tell you so that you may choose your gown ahead of time and get yourself ready.”

  Just by the way the muscles in Elizabeth’s hands grew tense, James knew that she wanted to protest. Her head snapped
up and she opened her mouth, but her eyes met James’. Elizabeth held his gaze for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Yes, Lady Kinsley. Thank you.” In a lower tone she added, “There is still time for my father to marry me off to Lord Huxley, I suppose.”

  The disdain in her voice was enough to tell James that it was the last thing she wanted. “Tell me, have you always been so averse to proper society?” He tried to say it as delicately as possible, and he could tell Elizabeth was amused.

  “Have I always been difficult, do you mean?” She laughed lightly. “Yes, ever since I was a child. My mother and father hardly knew how to handle me. It seems now as if half of the words out of their mouths were ‘no’ and ‘stop.’” Her lips turned down into a frown. “Though I do suppose it was worse after my mother died.” Her brow furrowed, as if she were wondering how to continue before she was interrupted.

  “Oh, let us not talk of such sad things,” said the countess.