Mending the Duke's Heart: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

“Well, we have been working nonstop,” Lady Pamala explained as she unravelled the long train that was wrapped around her skirt.

  He noted that alone with her frazzled brown hair, she was still in her morning dress despite it almost being time to make ready for supper.

  “And introductions need to be made,” Lady Pamala continued. “Brother, this is Miss Ella Ward. Miss Ward, this is my brother, the Duke of Winthrope.”

  “A pleasure, your grace,” Miss Ward said with a curtsy that nearly toppled her over when the little beast in her arms threw his weight with her movement.

  From her speech, he could tell that she wasn’t nearly as educated as he would have expected for the most sought after designer in all of London.

  Like Lady Pamala, she too was dishevelled. Her black hair was simply braided behind her, not even styled. Her dress was a dark grey and covered in small bits of gold and white thread. She clearly was much younger than he would have had expected for a professional Milliner, perhaps not even past her teen years.

  She had a smudge of chalk on her nose, no doubt from marking the gown, and a small smattering of freckles across her cheeks. He was never a stickler for pure complexions, but as he found fault with everything in this situation, he added it to the list. The only thing that seemed to catch him off guard was the near crystal blue of her big bright eyes that seemed to emanate light and kindness.

  Still, he had to remind himself he was taking a firmer hand.

  “I suppose your new companion taught you that song. It is most vulgar. What would the other Tories from the House of Lord’s think if they heard you singing ’no one shall govern me?’”

  “Actually, Lady Clarissa taught it to me,” Lady Pamala countered.

  “I was worried when mother wrote and told me she had abandoned the house, but I had no idea she had meant that she had been chased out by savages. You must have some propriety. This situation does not seem to be suited at all,” he finished with a shake of his head.

  “Your overreacting, brother,” Lady Pamala tried to explain calmly.

  He was hurt by the expression on his little sister’s face. She was looking at him like one looked upon a stranger.

  “I am most certainly not. You are to enter society in a week’s time, Pamala. This will simply not do. I have been too free with you. The time has come for you to grow up and be better. Clearly, I chose the wrong company for you.”

  His eyes only flickered for a second on Miss Ward, but it was enough to see the rise of pink on her cheeks as she stared stubbornly at the ground. He was never one to talk about someone in front of them in the past, and suddenly hated the haughty tone he was taking now.

  “Please don’t be so cross, Winthrope,” Lady Pamala pleaded softly, taking a step toward her brother. “We got carried away, that’s all. And as for Miss Ward,” Lady Pamala reached over and took her companion’s free hand, “she has become a very dear friend to me these weeks. Please don’t be cross with her as well.”

  The Duke wished that he had never looked back into his sister’s face as she pleaded with him. He was terrible at keeping his stern resolve when she seemed so mournful and apologetic. He could feel himself softening by the second.

  “Fine, I will allow the arrangement to continue until I can make a more informed judgment,” he responded, attempting to still sound firm.

  He pulled out his pocket watch, checked the time, and quickly replaced it.

  “I expect dinner will be ready in two hours. I expect to see a lady befitting your title joining me tonight,” he finished. “Miss Ward,” he turned to the miss who still hadn’t let her eyes leave the carpet below her, “you are quite welcome to join us as well if you wish it.”

  With that, he turned promptly on his boot heel, creating a sharp squeak against the hardwood floor, and exited the room.

  Chapter 9

  “I’m not sure if I should join you,” Ella said hesitantly as she stood in her door frame.

  “Why ever not?” Lady Pamala asked with genuine confusion in her tone.

  They had cleaned up the sewing room, working quickly and silently after the Duke had stormed from the room. Once done, Ella had taken the dishes down to the kitchen, where she was reprimanded for not knowing her place, which was only in the way in the kitchen.

  Lady Pamala called on her lady’s maid to help her dress and fix her hair for dinner. Then she instructed Ella to change into her Sunday best dress. Ella had struggled in her own room to do something resembling a chignon with her dark locks. She opted to pull it all back in one piece having no idea how to separate braids to decorate around the knot or even how to coax smaller pieces into curls around her face.

  “I don’t know that the Duke would want one such as I at his dinner table,” Miss Ward put delicately.

  It was clear from the moment the Duke bellowed his arrival and then set eyes on Ella, he had found everything about her wanting in some way or another. He was not at all the man that Lady Pamala had been describing over the last two weeks. Worse, when she watched him shoo little Scrapper away with the toe of his boot in a disgusted manner, she knew at that moment there was nothing good or admirable to find in the Duke of Winthrope.

  “Oh, I’m sure he was just tired from his travels. He is not usually such a cantankerous man,” Lady Pamala assured her friend.

  She looped her arm with Ella’s and guided her friend down the hall and towards the main stairs.

  “Well, that’s not true,” Lady Pamala corrected herself. “He can be very stern most of the time, but he had never been that way with me before. I’m sure some good food in his stomach, and he will brighten back up again.”

  Ella looked at her companion with a mix of empathy and pity. Sometimes she forgot that Lady Pamala was only sixteen years old and still very much maturing in the ways of the world. It wasn’t that Ella was so much wiser with the addition of four years, but the time had undoubtedly led to a removal of innocent hopefulness for better outcomes. Perhaps it was the added age, or maybe it was just growing up with her realist mother.

  But either reason why, she had been sure by the time the Duke had exited that room he had already passed judgment on Ella and though he was polite in his invitation., had no intention or desire to dine with a simple shop girl, or quite possibly even house one in his fine home for much longer.

  She wondered what her mother would say when she returned home to inform Mrs Ward that she had disgraced herself in front of the Duke and had been removed from her post because of it. She also feared how it would affect their business. If a little bit of gossip from two ladies had led to so much improvement to their business, what would be the effect of a Duke’s disapproval?

  I didn’t seem that food was any help at all concerning the disposition of the Duke of Winthrope as the night progressed. Lady Pamala did her best to stay cheerful, but by the end of the meal, even she had a shadow of depression about her visage.

  Ella had done her best to only speak when spoken to, not even look in the Duke’s direction at the head of the table, and to chew as delicately and quietly as she saw Lady Pamala do. None of these things were easy for her, and being demure was certainly not in her nature.

  She wondered if perhaps she should have asked Lady Pamala if they could have practised such an event as a proper meal with the Duke before tonight. Up until this point, Ella had felt very much at ease in Lady Pamala’s company.

  They had taken all their meals in the sewing room, only stopping their work when the rumbling of their stomachs insisted upon it. One of the footmen took Scrapper out on regular walks and she hadn’t seen any of the other household members in days. She had nearly forgotten how different her place was from everyone else in it.

  Even without looking at the Duke, she was sure she could feel the heat of his dark gaze on her, judging every movement she made, every bite she took. She was by no means a street urchin, as Mrs Jenkins had called her, but she also had not been brought up a lady and had no idea what was right or wrong to do.<
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  Though her schooling had taught her to read and basic arithmetic, there was never lessons on curtsying or hair styling, and certainly not on how to cut up miniature-sized Cornish hens placed on her dinner plate.

  For Lady Pamala’s part, she did her best the whole meal through to fill the silence with a detailed explanation of all the goings-on inside the house since the Duke departed two weeks before.

  “I suppose Mother wasn’t entirely happy when I shared my plans at the dinner party,” Lady Pamala tried to explain when questioned about her mother’s sudden departure from the home. “But I didn’t think that was the reason she decided to stay with Lady Clayton. Of course, we did have some disagreements, but when do Mother and I not have our differences. She simply said she needed a bit of a distraction from the ball preparations and wanted to have an extended visit.”

  “And it didn’t seem strange to you that our mother would want to extend that visit to the point of changing residence?” the Duke pushed on.

  “Perhaps she was overly exhausted because you had neglected your duties to help her in this cause. Perhaps she was tired of being fought on things she knows well and, frankly, you know little about.”

  Ella stole a glance at her companion. She could see that Lady Pamala struggled to keep tears from spilling over that were welling up in her big brown eyes. Perhaps the Duke noticed it too because, for the first time, his voice softened slightly.

  “Pammy, things must be done in a certain way. You know this. There is a pattern to everything. There are things that are expected of you. After all, Mother has been through, we have all been through, these last few years, let us not make this more difficult on her,” he spoke softly.

  “I know it’s partly my fault,” he continued on. “I gave you permission to continue with your endeavours, so I too am to blame for the scorn she endured. But you must understand these things she tells you, and councils you are for your benefit. She wants to see you matched well. And I want to see that too. You are a kind, wonderful lady, and you deserve happiness in life. I don’t want you to lose that chance because your actions suggest a certain attitude about our social standing,” he finished very delicately.

  There wasn’t much conversation for the remainder of the meal. Undoubtedly, the Duke thought that his sister was digesting all that he had told her, though Ella rather thought she was choosing to keep silent instead of speaking her contrary views.

  Once the meal was done, Ella was free to excuse herself back to the sewing room where she spent the remainder of the night. Despite being alone in the room, it was still more soothing than the company of the Duke. She couldn’t understand how that man could possibly be the one Lady Pamala had described to her over the previous weeks.

  The following morning, she rose early. Taking the time to make sure her dress was free of threads and that her hair was once again in its simple bun, she made her way to Lady Pamala’s room.

  Arriving just as the Lady’s maid finished helping her dress and style her hair, Ella sat down on the edge of the soft bed. Already she felt so close to Lady Pamala she expected this was what it felt like to have a sister.

  “I was thinking,” Ella started slowly, “With the extra week and our two hands, we could probably make you a second gown for the ball. I know you wanted to wear it to both, but perhaps you have pushed your limits enough as it is. Of course, I suppose this is provided I am not dismissed today.”

  Lady Pamala turned on the stool where she had been seated in front of a mirror while her hair had been finished.

  “I suppose you are right. I did push my brother and mother too far, I suppose. He’s never acted like that before,” she continued scrunching up her button nose. “At least not with me. Don’t worry about being dismissed, though,” she finished, snapping her gaze up to meet Ella’s. “I’ll never allow it. And even if Winthrope is cross with me, I don’t think he would go as far as to take away one of my very best friends.”

  Though Ella wasn’t entirely sure about that fact as Lady Pamala, she did appreciate that Lady Pamala, too, had felt a close and instant friendship between the two of them.

  They made their plans that morning in Lady Pamala’s room, taking their breakfast together there, to complete the court dress that very day, and finalize a similar but clearly different design for the Dowager Duchess’s ball.

  “I am sure I will have enough of the cream fabric left over for it too. I always buy too much,” Lady Pamala.

  The excitement was practically bouncing off of both of them. Ella always loved the anticipation of a new project beginning, and it was clear that Lady Pamala did too.

  “It’s a good thing too. I don’t want anyone to know what colour or style my dress is. I want this to be a complete original,” Lady Pamala spoke, clasping her hands together.

  “Well, with your inventive design, I am sure it will stand out,” Ella agreed. “I mean in the best way, of course,” she added quickly.

  “I know that’s what you meant,” Lady Pamala giggled.

  Like her court dress, she had decided to give this one the same high stiff collar to frame her face. This gown would have less embroidery and only one colour of fabric for its body.

  They made their way to the sewing room, design in hand, and plan for the day’s tasks already set out.

  “I know this is probably very vain of me to say, but I love adding those collars because I think it makes my neck look long and thin. I still feel like I’m a bit on the rotund side.”

  “What?” Ella exclaimed.

  She looked Lady Pamala up and down in her lemon-coloured morning dress. Though she hadn’t fully developed, only being sixteen, she was not at all what Ella would consider overweight. It was only in her cherubic face that she still held some of the roundness of childhood.

  “You are certainly not large,” she assured her friend. “And I know you will look stunning in even a gown made from potato sacks.”

  “I wish I was more of your body type,” Lady Pamala countered.

  It was true that Ella was much skinner, but only because the food was not available to her as it was in Pamala’s home. And though Ella’s body had the pleasing definition of an hourglass that many ladies wished for, it was only because her body had fully matured.

  “It’s only because I am so much older than you,” Ella attempted to explain.

  “You say that as if you are already an old maid,” Lady Pamala giggled. “Twenty is not that old.”

  “Well, maybe I’m not that old, but if we keep havin’ puddings like last night, I will be the one needing your collar designs to thin me out!”

  Both girls were hiccupping with laughter as they entered the sewing room. Both stopped instantly at the sight before them. Seated squarely in the middle of the room was Mrs Jenkins. Seeing the young lady of the house, she promptly stood.

  “Mrs Jenkins, good morning,” Lady Pamala said, catching her breath.

  “Lady Pamala, His Grace has asked me to sit in while you attend to your activities,” Mrs Jenkins explained.

  “He did?” Lady Pamala stuttered.

  “Yes. His Grace felt that it would be wise to have a watchful eye to ward off any impropriety that might be catching as things stood,” she explained, keeping her eyes squarely on Ella.

  Ella had to admit, though she detested the woman, Mrs Jenkins clearly had a strong constitution to give her opinions so firmly.

  “I’m sure it’s not necessary,” Lady Pamala tried to wave off the housekeeper.

  “Nonetheless,” Mrs Jenkins replied, taking her seat again, “I will be just here if you should need me.”

  The girls exchanged looks but kept their thoughts to themselves. That morning was much more subdued than any before it as they went about their business. Seeing that both girls were bent over the final section of embroidery for the court gown’s outer portion, Mrs Jenkins took it upon herself to read in the concentrated silence.