Fate Is A Stranger: Regency Romance

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Fate Is A Stranger: Regency Romance Page 6

by Gay, Gloria


  "They are clear enough, Miss Durbin," he said curtly.

  Most probably the Duke of Hawkinston had never been rejected in his life and had trouble dealing with it. Violet would have told him then that she would not attend his house party at Cynweir Castle, for his words to her had been insulting. His actions too, had been degrading. He would not have rushed head on in the way he had done had she belonged to society. She was to blame too, for succumbing initially but she could allow that she was extremely attracted to him and he had taken her by surprise.

  She really would like nothing better than to toss his invitation at his head in response to the way he had treated her, like a common strumpet, which was exactly how he thought of her, no matter his professions of love. Lust disguised as love was what it was.

  But then she realized that the soiree at the castle would help restore her father to his class. She would not allow the duke's obsessive pursuit of her prevent her from helping her father regain his status in society.

  Besides, she was getting adept at rejecting his "delicate" propositions, so that they did not affect her as they had the first time. Granted, that because she had allowed herself to respond so passionately to his lovemaking, she would now be more vulnerable than ever and it would be even harder to stay away from him.

  "I wish to return now, your grace," she said.

  "Very well Miss Durbin."

  In the carriage, after maneuvering his horses out of a difficult enclave, the duke turned once more to her. Violet pressed herself against the side of the carriage. She would not allow either her arm or her leg to press against him again.

  "I would like to apologize, Miss Durbin," he said.

  "Apology accepted," said Violet.

  She was certain this would not be the last time the duke talked about his offer to her, however many apologies she received on the subject in the future. He was insensitive to the point of arrogance, yet there it was, she could not easily remove him from her mind, her heart and increasingly her very soul. What a wasted life hers would be without those moss-green eyes looking down mockingly at her. Yet succumbing was a dark tunnel she would not enter, no matter the promise of a beckoning passion.

  They talked of other things and on the way back to her home the duke talked of Cynweir Castle and through his words the castle came to life for Violet.

  He told her how the sun's light slanted through arbors in the dense foliage and bathed beds of wildflowers with silvery rays. How both sunrise and sunset were different heady experiences each time and sometimes almost too much beauty to bear.

  "Just as you sometimes are Miss Durbin," he added, "unbearable beauty."

  "Do go on about the arbors," she said. "You convey much with words."

  He had a faraway look in his eyes as he recalled the wonderland of snow and ice the woods became in the winter and he talked of riding over meadows fragrant with the scent of new grass after the snow had melted and spring had broken through. He talked of bluebirds and thistle and bracken and the warm rays of the sun making the earth and the new grass fragrant.

  Violet could smell the grass and the laurel and pine and could feel bracken and thistle and pine cones under her feet. She could see the hawks and falcons soar above the treetops, swirling under a blue canopy of sky with decorative puffs of clouds that seemed to be there only as props in a play.

  She wanted so much to see Cynweir Castle now that the duke had made it come alive for her.

  CHAPTER 7

  "Now let me understand you perfectly, Hawk," said the Marchioness of Deckworth, with a stunned voice. "You actually expect me to be hostess at a house party in which, horror of horrors, your intention is to invite 'Lady' Kelly and her daughter Violet, two Cyprians that were incredibly lifted from the dregs by that fool, Kelly? You must not be serious!"

  "On the contrary, my dear sister, I am in earnest."

  "Well I still don’t believe it," said the marchioness. "I am afraid I will have to see it in writing. Such a leave from your senses must be written for me to believe it."

  "Written?" asked, Hawk, leaning forward a little at the breakfast table. "Yes, I believe you do like things written, dear Arabella. For such reason I have also brought another written missive and one I know you will appreciate even more than the wish I have just disclosed to you."

  "And what is that, may I ask?" said the marchioness, although Hawk detected the fluttering of a nerve under the marchioness' bad eye: a good sign, to him. He knew his sister better than she knew herself.

  "A vowel?" asked the marchioness, the nervousness of her voice giving her quickly away, "Surely not—"

  "Surely yes," said the duke. "Arabella, my dear, even I had not suspected the depth of your gaming. I believe you have gone from bad to worse in the few months I have lost sight of your gambling. Does Deckworth know of your—ah—little problem?"

  "No! My dear Hawk, it isn't a problem. You mustn't make it seem as though I—"

  "Gamble?"

  "No—”

  "Arabella, surely you cannot attempt, feebly, if I may add, to pretend that three thousand pounds is a 'little' problem."

  "How did you—how did you recover the vowel?" Arabella was extremely agitated now. Her hands on the arm rests of her chair were taut.

  "I haven't recovered the vowel for you, Arabella—yet," said the duke. "But I can be persuaded to do so. As it is, I had Lady Ressling make a copy of it for me. I must say, she was very accommodating. She believes your vowel has gone on for much longer than it should have and her patience is waning."

  "Lady Ressling is a fool—"

  "No, Arabella," said Hawk, his voice terse as he gazed at his sister; "it’s you who are the fool. It appears you have a serious gambling problem of which even I did not know. Is Deckworth aware of the extent of your gaming?"

  "No! He is not! Please Hawk, you mustn't tell him. I may be able to—oh, Hawk, you cannot mean to tell him—"

  "Of course I have no intention of telling Deckworth about it, for now."

  "For now?" asked Arabella, a tremor in her voice.

  "Ordinarily I don’t inform your pedantic husband of anything at all, Arabella. I make a habit not to, as you know. He'd probably have you followed and snoop into your affairs if he doesn't already. I don't believe Deckworth has gambled two pence in his life."

  "No. He never gambles, not ever," said Lady Deckworth. "He wouldn't understand, Hawk. He believes I play cards only for small amounts. He would make my life a misery were he to find out. He would hold the moral high ground over me and be constantly snooping into my expenditures. Why, there is all manner of ways in which he would make my life extremely uncomfortable, Hawk. I must have your word you will not disclose this to him. Surely you would not—could not dream of telling him?"

  "Well, what a surprise it would be for him," said the duke, hardly able to disguise his satisfaction as he toyed with his sister like a cat toying with a mouse. He did not like seeing his sister squirm right before him, for he was extremely fond of her but there were some things he needed from her.

  Beneath that rigid demeanor and that outré way in which her hair was invariably dressed was a nice and honest woman. He was aware too of how much Arabella had loved him, since childhood, as she was older by three years and had mothered him since he was born. He loved her just as much.

  But Arabella must agree to host his house party. It would be a Cyprian party if she did not lend it legitimacy. So he was going to use all manner of tricks to make her agree to it.

  "Well, Arabella, what do you say? Hostess my house party at Cynweir Castle and your problem disappears—poof!"

  "Yes, but another problem appears," said the marchioness. "How can you think I would be allowed by Deckworth to hostess such a party even should I agree to such a preposterous idea?" she asked.

  "Perhaps because it would be very necessary that not only do you agree to it but you convince Deckworth of it," said Hawk. "That is, unless you want certain behavioral problems to be revealed to Deckworth.
Your dilemma may be in your deciding which of the two evils is the lesser. Choices such as the one you are now confronted with come up constantly in life to most people, my dear, just not too often to such a privileged one as you."

  "You have this idea I sit at a blossom-studded throne to which I walk over rose petals each day, Hawk."

  "Don't you?"

  "Certainly not. I have two great estates to oversee, in case you haven't noticed. I am up from dawn 'till dusk."

  "Of course," said the duke smiling.

  Arabella pressed her index fingers to her temples and sighed. "Let me think about it, Hawk. I never make any decisions at breakfast. This request of yours is upsetting to say the least. The exchange is uneven, I believe. I would never live down such a party. Do consider how my wide acquaintance would believe I have taken leave of my senses."

  "Peccatum minutus," said Hawk smiling, "it has happened often before.”

  "Do talk in the language we both know," said his sister, annoyed. "My friends have heard me often enough say that Lord Kelly is a fool and that his Cyprian wife will never be allowed beyond the fringes of society. You now ask me to be hostess of that woman's daughter’s 'coming out', so to speak. The girl may be a beauty but her prospects do not go beyond being the mistress of some young blood."

  "I do ask you that. I believe I have the right to ask you for a favor at least once in my lifetime."

  "I have done many a favor for you in my life, Hawk."

  "Name one."

  "Really, Hawk, what is it with this family that has you so changed in character?"

  "You have until eight o' clock tonight, my dear," said Hawk without responding to her question. "I shall call on you then, agreed?"

  "Yes, do," said his sister, sighing with resignation, her brow now deeply furrowed with worry over her gambling problems. "I shall wait on you for dinner, then."

  The cat was in the bag, thought Hawk with extreme satisfaction; Arabella was only delaying the inevitable. She had no way out but must save face by postponing her answer. He had absolutely no qualms about forcing her into complying. As a child three years younger than his sister, he had used the same tactics to make up for their difference in size and age.

  * * *

  "Your Grace, Lady Deckworth awaits you in the small parlor."

  "Yes, Brigg, thank you," said the duke and followed Brigg there. Hawk entered a sumptuous sitting room covered with Persian rugs and hung with powder blue damask and deep wine velvet drapes that were held back with heavy gold cords and tassels. The cathedral windows disclosed a nonpareil view of the park in the distance where greenery blended with the blue canopied sky like long paintings.

  "Well, Arabella?" The duke went right to the point.

  Lady Deckworth looked up at her brother. "Do sit down, Hawk, you tower over one so." The tremor was back again beneath her bad eye. Hawk knew she hated to give in, and being forced to do so was affecting her nerves.

  The duke sat down in front of his sister and gazed at her with interest. Why did he never give Arabella the slightest hint that he was very fond of her? They had always been close, since childhood, simply because their parents had been so distant and their home so vast.

  "I shall begin by saying it is very unsporting of you to offer to settle my vowel in exchange for a favor, Hawk. Surely this was not the way you were raised."

  "We were raised by wolves."

  "Mama was not a wolf."

  "I suppose you're right. But she caved in to father in everything."

  "You should not speak so of the dead," said Arabella.

  "Well," said Hawk with an exasperated sigh, "do stop making niceties and let's get to the point. Surely you aren't going to pretend now that the fourth duke was anything but a rascal."

  Hawk always referred to his father as the fourth duke, he being the fifth. He had had a contentious relationship with his father and resented it when his sister re-wrote history.

  "I’m afraid I have a condition to add," said Arabella, avoiding the duke's eye.

  "Out with it," said the duke impatiently. "And let's finish this business." The duke was anxious to seal the deal and direct his attention to other business, which he had neglected at present, as his entire attention was absorbed by his pursuit of Violet.

  "I have someone to add to the guest list, actually, two guests. Surely, as I am to hostess it, I have that right?"

  "And who may that be? Oh, let me guess—Souten?" asked the duke.

  "Yes. And believe me, Hawk, I am not going to budge. I am extremely fond of Cade and his devotion to me sustains me. I could not go through this life thinking that Cade was in disfavor with me."

  "'Cade…'" said the duke…"you should remove the "e" Arabella and it would better describe him. I know you are trying to restore that cad into society, my dear," he added, forming a steeple with his hands and sitting back, a scornful grin on his face, "but why in particular on this occasion?"

  "Because he is in town only for a few days," responded Arabella with a frown. "And I want to spend some time with him. Surely you can understand? He was Elsidore's son, Hawk. I am extremely fond of him." Elsidore had been Arabella's first husband.

  "Yes, that much I wholeheartedly believe. How you can be so fond of a lowly creature like that does you no credit, Arabella, but then a woman's feelings or anything else about the gender is completely devoid of sense. The man butters you up like scone and cuts you up and then you just look up at him adoringly, and ask for more."

  "You malign our sex, Hawk, yet you are trying to restore into society two particularly undeserving creatures. You cannot succeed, you know; Lord Kelly tried to do just that and lost his standing in society with the attempt."

  "I’m not here to discuss Lord Kelly's standing in society or his lack thereof," said Hawk with a shake of the head. "And whatever ideas you have of my 'attempts to restore to society' anyone is purely conjectural on your part. I am merely giving a house party that is to last several days."

  "That's not what I have heard—"

  "Without a hostess," interrupted the duke, "few ladies of the ton would agree to attend, no matter that it is at Cynweir Castle. You know that as well as I, however you may pretend not to. My need for a hostess who has a high standing in society is merely for that reason and nothing more. I, as well as many of my bachelor peers, can hold as many balls in as many castles in the kingdom; however, they will turn into bachelor soirees if there is not a respectable hostess to lend them their name."

  "I’m glad you men have some need for us ladies," answered Arabella.

  Besides, thought Hawk. He was certain Lord Kelly and his family would not attend a party without a society hostess.

  Brigg came in to announce dinner, so the duke and his sister removed themselves to the massive dining room that was candlelit in one area and dark in the rest.

  Exquisite pheasant soup, venison, vegetable endicot and lobster patties must be seriously dealt with before any more meaningful conversation took place. The duke and his sister, comfortable in each other's presence since birth, delved with a healthy appetite and without self-consciousness into the grand meal before they took again the string of their conversation.

  "Well, Arabella, is it a deal then?"

  "Souten can attend with his guest, Lady de Compte?"

  "I believe that is your unflinching condition, so let it be. I just hope he stays out of my way. I can’t abide him, as you well know. And Lady de Compte has one thing in common with you, Arabella, she is in debt to her ears. You two should get along famously."

  "I am not a friend of Lady de Compte, nor do I approve of her, Hawk," said the marchioness quickly. "I invite her only because Cade has taken a liking to her. I believe she’s a scheming female and not a good influence on Cade."

  Hawk burst out laughing at this.

  "Now I have heard everything! You believe Lady de Compte is a bad influence on Souten? Souten would be a bad influence on Satan himself, my dear. I can’t believe the blinders you use when
it comes to him. Galleon, my horse has more sense than you do when it comes to people. He neighed in protest the other day at Hyde Park when Souten passed us in that new carriage of his. I’m quite certain he obtained it with illicit funds, or else he wheedled the money out of you. Did he?"

  "Hawk, do I ask you to give me a rendering of your expenditures?"

  "That’s an answer in itself, I believe," said Hawk with a short laugh. "Perhaps Deckworth should worry more about Souten then your gambling, Arabella."

  "I believe you have exhausted a subject that holds no interest for me, Hawk." Arabella turned away from him nervously and gazed distractedly out to the green below. Hawk did not miss this, as he did not miss anything about the actions of those who interested him.

  "Yes, I imagine it would hold no interest," remarked Hawk, with a smirk."

  Arabella frowned in disapproval. "I don't believe you will have a problem with running into either Cade or Lady de Compte, Hawk, as Cade is quite aware of your unfounded dislike of him. He has told me oftentimes how he regrets the unfortunate assumptions you have of him. He ardently desires to become your friend."

  "Souten has honed his hypocrisy on you, my dear, but please kindly refrain from passing such hogwash on to me. The only things Cade has ever loved in his life are the impressions on gold coins.

  "And since we are on the subject of Cade, however unpleasant it may be for me," the duke continued, "I must point out my suspicions to you. I believe him to be a conniving piece of work and I suspect he had something to do with the death of his cousin. The estate fell too neatly into his hands. Seldom do things in life go so well."

  "Please, Hawk, if you want me to make a success of your house party, refrain from such false accusations that do not give you credit." An extremely worried look appeared in Arabella's eyes.

  And gazing at her, Hawk realized that these thoughts had already passed through her head. She had probably spent sleepless nights going over it and trying to find ways to exonerate Souten. Childless, she had poured her maternal love on Cade and was blind to his many faults.

 

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