A Rebellious Lady for the Brokenhearted Duke

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A Rebellious Lady for the Brokenhearted Duke Page 13

by Leah Conolly


  “I must apologize. Please,” he implored Isabelle. Her eyes softened.

  The countess, however, remained in place. “It is not a good idea, James. I say this for your sake. Give her a little time.”

  James considered how angry she had been yesterday, and rightfully so. Maybe the countess was correct. The last thing he wanted was to make things worse.

  “Perhaps it would be for the best, James,” Isabelle added softly. “I can write to you as soon as I think Elizabeth has calmed down. For now, Victoria and I will stay with her.”

  James sighed. He wanted to fix things now, to make it right, but he saw the wisdom in Victoria and Isabelle’s words. “Though it pains me to say it, I believe you might be right. Please keep me abreast of how she is and let me know the moment you think it would be good for me to come. I want to make amends.”

  “You must not be so hard on yourself, James,” the countess said with apparent pity, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

  James shook his head. “You are wrong on that account. If I cannot make amends with Elizabeth, I will never forgive myself.” He nodded to the two ladies. “Thank you. I will go now. Please write to me about Elizabeth soon.” He suddenly remembered the flowers he’d held clutched in his hand this whole time and held them out to Isabelle. “Please give these to her, if she will have them.”

  Isabelle took them from his grasp. “I will. I’m very sorry, James. Elizabeth will come around. I am sure of it.”

  The countess said nothing, but by her countenance, she did not look so certain.

  James left, feeling just as dejected as he had the night before. He went home and tried to be in good spirits for Oscar and his mother, but found himself still troubled. He truly wondered if Elizabeth would ever find it in her heart to forgive him.

  Chapter 25

  Elizabeth was caught in a never-ending cycle of anger, guilt, betrayal, and remorse. Even after spending all day and night secluded in her room, she hadn’t been able to organize her thoughts. She was still angry, yes, but she also wondered if she had been too harsh on James.

  Now, as the morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, Elizabeth wondered what to do next. With her feelings still so muddled, she thought it couldn’t hurt if she took some more time to reflect.

  For the first time since she had talked with James the day before, Elizabeth ventured from her room. Her stomach growled, as she hadn’t eaten anything for over an entire day. It was just after noon when she made her way down the stairs and found Lady Kinsley and, to her annoyance, the countess in the sitting room.

  “Elizabeth,” Lady Kinsley said, standing up immediately. She rushed over to her and took her hands. “How are you?”

  That was a question Elizabeth hadn’t even been able to answer for herself yet. “I..., I do not know.” She needed someone to confide in. While she had some respect for her godmother, she wasn’t someone she trusted enough to share her feelings with.

  “I’m so sorry about what has happened. Victoria and I have just been discussing who could have started that horrid rumor about you.”

  Who indeed? Elizabeth thought, glancing at the countess, who was obviously trying her best to look like innocence incarnate. One of the things she had thought of frequently during her isolation was who could have started the rumor. In all her musings, she kept coming back to the countess. She had a strong enough motive and a ruthless nature. When combined, Elizabeth thought she would probably do anything to get what she wanted, no matter the cost to others.

  “And have your discussions produced any result?” Elizabeth asked, staring at the countess.

  The countess finally caught her eye behind Lady Kinsley. Something akin to a smirk twitched at her lips.

  “Not so far,” sighed Mrs. Kinsley. “I do not know anyone who would wish to injure your reputation and James’ feelings in such a way.”

  “I have had some ideas,” Elizabeth said, “but I cannot prove anything yet.”

  Lady Kinsley looked at Elizabeth in pity. “You look so pale. I will make sure something is prepared for you to eat.” She walked out of the room to speak with one of the servants.

  “You will never get James back now,” the countess said in a whisper, though there was venom in her tone.

  “It is no concern of yours,” countered Elizabeth. “I will forgive him in time, but you, I will never be able to forgive.”

  The countess huffed a short laugh. “Oh, what a pity. I have tried so hard to be in your good graces.”

  Elizabeth felt her anger rising again, but then Lady Kinsley returned. The countess flashed a triumphant smile.

  “Food is being prepared for you and should be ready in the dining room shortly, Elizabeth.” Lady Kinsley put a hand on her back and guided her in that direction. “Are you ready to talk about what happened?”

  Once again, Elizabeth contemplated that she didn’t want to confide in her godmother, but she had kept her emotions bottled up inside for too long. “James believed the lies about me.” Just saying it out loud made tears sting her eyes. “I trusted him, and I thought I knew him, but yesterday he proved differently.”

  “Elizabeth,” Lady Kinsley soothed when they walked into the dining room with the countess behind them. “He made an error of judgment.”

  “About my character,” Elizabeth said, pulling away from Lady Kinsley’s touch. She noticed a vase of flowers that hadn’t been in the dining room before. Yellow flowers. James. The thought made it hurt even more.

  Lady Kinsley must have seen where her eyes were because she said, “James was here this morning. He asked to see you and wanted to apologize, but we thought it best to let you have some time alone first.”

  Elizabeth nodded, grateful that she hadn’t been forced to make the choice herself. “Thank you.”

  Food was brought only for Elizabeth, as Lady Kinsley claimed she and the countess had already eaten. Yet they stayed with her as though afraid to leave her alone. Elizabeth found she was starving and began eating in relative silence. Lady Kinsley and the countess conversed quietly across from her.

  “Elizabeth,” Lady Kinsley said after a while, “did you really break off your engagement with James?”

  Elizabeth paused. “Yes,” she said softly. And she was resolute in her decision. If James hadn’t been there for her in a matter like this, how could she expect him to support her as a husband?

  “You know that I must write to your father. I understand that this affair was not your fault, but he still must know.”

  Elizabeth sank into her chair. She had already resigned herself to this, but she still feared what her father would say. “Yes, I know. Please tell him that I am sorry, but I did what I thought was right.”

  “Of course, I will.”

  The countess looked as though she was struggling to contain her delight at the conversation. Elizabeth wished that she could know what the woman was really about. How could she prove that the countess had started the rumor? As far as Elizabeth could see, it didn’t seem possible.

  “Victoria, would you mind staying with Elizabeth while I write the letter?”

  Her gaze showed that she did mind, but out loud she said, “Not at all.”

  Lady Kinsley left, leaving the countess alone with Elizabeth.

  “Do not think that you will get away with this,” Elizabeth said, keeping her eyes trained on her food.

  “Whatever do you mean?” asked the countess innocently.

  “I will discover what you are trying to do. I will reveal your true face to James and my godmother. You do not deserve to have friends like them.”

  She frowned. “Lady Elizabeth, I am a countess, and you are about to be married to a terrible brute of a man out in the country. There is nothing you can do.”

  Elizabeth tightened her grip on her fork. “It is not certain that I will marry Lord Huxley. My father will understand once the situation is explained to him.” At least, she hoped so. Elizabeth was glad that she sounded more confident than she felt.<
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  The countess laughed. “You are sadly mistaken, you poor girl. Haven’t you wondered why everyone is so against you? Your father, your godmother, even James? You are not trustworthy. Your very nature, the rebelliousness you strive to hold onto, pushes everyone away. How could anyone remain attached to someone like you?”

  Elizabeth wouldn’t look at her, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing how her words rattled her. Her own thoughts had been running along the same lines, and those doubts were still plaguing her. She pushed the troubling thoughts aside and continued eating, finding strength in confronting the countess.

  “And what about you, countess?” Elizabeth looked up to meet the haughty woman’s gaze. “Are you trustworthy?”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I mean that both of your husbands died in the same manner. I became suddenly ill before the ball I was to attend with James. These rumors began just before I was to wed James. Each of these instances have something in common. You have something to gain in every circumstance.”

  Elizabeth let her words hang in the air for a moment, meeting the countess’ gaze. If she wasn’t mistaken, she thought she saw concern flash across the countess’ face for a fraction of a second.

  “You read too many books and forget that there is such a thing as coincidence. It is all very unfortunate, yes, but as for you, you have brought this all upon yourself.”

  Elizabeth steeled her jaw. She knew she couldn’t let her words get to her. Instead, she spoke clearly and forcefully. “I will find out who you truly are, Countess. You may doubt me, but I am telling you that you have wounded an innocent soul for the last time.”

  The countess sighed and shook her head. “Your poor spirits have addled your brain. You really must eat some more.”

  Elizabeth did so and ignored the countess entirely. She vowed to herself that she would find out the truth about the woman. She owed it to James, herself, and anyone else that woman had ever injured.

  As she had realized days before, she knew very well that the countess could be dangerous.

  Chapter 26

  James spent four restless days trying and failing to occupy his mind. He wondered if Isabelle hadn’t written because Elizabeth was still angry. Perhaps he was right, and she would never forgive him? After so long with no word, he feared the worst. He was barely able to stop himself, but with the help of his mother, he refrained from going to Isabelle’s house and asking after Elizabeth himself.

  “You must give her time to think,” his mother had said, once he had come home still looking dejected. “You have made it known to her that you regret your actions. Now you must wait patiently.”

  “Father, why are you so sad?”

  James looked up. He hadn’t even heard his son come into the library, but there he was, standing in the middle of the room and staring up at him.

  James huffed a light chuckle, closing the book he had been attempting to read without success. “Where is your governess?”

  Oscar beamed. “I’m hiding from her.”

  James shook his head. “That is not kind, Oscar. You must go apologize to her at once.”

  “But you didn’t answer my question.”

  James paused for a moment. “What makes you think I am sad?”

  “You have such a big frown on your face, and you barely even talk to Grandmother. That’s when I know something is wrong.”

  James couldn’t help but smile. He invited Oscar to sit next to him on the sofa and slumped forward, running a hand over his face. “You are too perceptive, Oscar. You have found me out.”

  “How can you be so sad when you were so happy before?”

  James pressed his lips together, trying to phrase his words so that Oscar would understand. “Sometimes..., one makes mistakes. And some mistakes can cost you your happiness.”

  Oscar frowned, his eyebrows furrowing comically over his eyes. “So, you will be sad forever?”

  “No. At least I hope not.” He remembered how he had thought that he’d never be happy again after Braith had passed. While her loss still hurt, the pain had ebbed over time. When he met Elizabeth, she had brought vibrancy and joy back into his life. “Sadness always goes away, in time. It just might take a little while.” He offered his son a small smile. “I will try very hard to be happy, just for you.”

  “I can make you happy, Father. See?” He stuck out his tongue, rolled his eyes, and made a grotesque face.

  James laughed. “It seems I am cured. You have made me happy again.” He chuckled, as he ruffled Oscar’s hair.

  The governess appeared in the doorway. “Oscar!” Her eyes met James’ for only a fraction of a second. “Forgive me, my lord.”

  James waved off the apology. “You are not the one who needs to ask for forgiveness.” He put a hand on Oscar’s back and gently nudged him toward his governess.

  Oscar stared down at the carpet with his hands clasped in front of him. “I’m sorry, Miss Ludwig. I should not have run away from you.”

  Miss Ludwig smiled. “You are forgiven, sir.” She looked to James with a question in her eyes. “Shall I take him with me, my lord?”

  James shook his head. “I will keep Oscar here for the time being. I think,” he said, standing up, “that it is time for me to teach him my favorite game.”

  “Chess!” Oscar exclaimed, practically exploding with excitement. He jumped up and down. “You are finally going to teach me, Father?”

  “Yes.” James crossed to the other side of the room to get the chessboard.

  Miss Ludwig nodded. “Very well, my lord.” She departed, leaving James with his son.

  Oscar followed behind his father, barely containing his glee. “I am finally going to learn chess! I can be a gentleman now!”

  James chuckled as he brought the chessboard back to the table and began to set it up. Oscar sat across from him, watching solemnly as though taking in every single detail. James smiled. He had planned to wait to teach Oscar chess until he was a little older, but now that James longed to occupy his mind with something other than Elizabeth, he felt it was the perfect time. Besides, his son was clever and perceptive, and would surely quickly pick up the rudiments of the game.

  “May I have the black pieces, Father?” Oscar asked.

  “You may, but you should know that the player who chooses white goes first.”

  Oscar looked back at the board thoughtfully. “Then I shall be white,” he decided.

  “Very well,” James said. “Now, each one of these pieces,” he began, as he started putting them in their proper places, “can move in its own special way. I will explain as we go through the game.”

  Oscar nodded, already entirely focused on the board in front of him. James finished setting up and gestured to the board. “Take note where each piece is. The board is set up the same way each time. Now, you may move first, and I will tell you a secret. Your first move is essential to the rest of the game. If you make a poor first move, it is possible that the rest of the game will go badly for you.”

  James paused for a moment. He remembered teaching Elizabeth how to play chess and telling her how important the first move was. She had made a terrible move anyway, though not on purpose. He remembered the way she had smiled and laughed, admitting her ignorance of the complexities of the game.

  “Father?”

  James shook himself from his memories. He chided himself for thinking of her when he was trying to spend time with his son. He simply couldn’t help it. Elizabeth was written onto his heart.

  “Yes, the first move. A very good first move is to shift this pawn forward two spaces,” he said, pointing. Normally those pieces can only move one space, but the first move is an exception.”

  Oscar moved the piece indicated. James placed a finger on his piece to move, wondering whether he should go easy on Oscar. Once again, he thought of Elizabeth. He had been faced with the same choice when he had played with her—to let her off easy or to show his skill.

  “I t
hink you are holding back,” she had said, with a smile. “You have allowed me to take far too many of your pieces.”

  James had shrugged. “Perhaps you possess a natural skill for the game.”

  Elizabeth had laughed heartily. “We both know that is not true.”

  He had played to win then. Elizabeth lost with good grace, laughing and promising that she would try to give him more of a challenge next time.

  James wondered if he would ever play chess with her again.

  “You look sad again,” Oscar said. “Did I do something wrong?”

  James shook his head. His son’s concerned expression came into focus. “No, no. The fault is mine. I fear I am distracted.”

 

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