by Rebecca Dash
The Runaway Duke
Rebecca Dash
Copyright
Copyright © 2017
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Let’s Stay In Touch
Chapter 1
It was a tranquil morning. Sunshine filled the countryside, glinting off the river that ran past the small, stone cottage. Birds chirped their welcome to a new day. There was no hint of how hectic things were inside the modest home.
Amelia stirred porridge in an iron pot atop an open flame. The warm scent of cinnamon and oats rose in the air. Cooking made her feel at peace. All she had to worry about in the world was whether it was sweet enough. The respite was only momentary, as she found out, when her younger sisters ran rampant through the kitchen.
“Would you two please stop that?” she said, sternly.
They responded with amused laughs and shouts, poking one another with large sticks they had found outside.
“Ugh,” Amelia groaned. It was always like this when the toddlers were wide awake and restless.
Her older sister, Prudence, stood at the other side of the large fireplace, only half-heartedly trying to assist with the cooking. She kept staring out the window as the eggs got more and more brown. Amelia could tell her thoughts were in a far off place.
“That is going to burn,” she said, nodding at the pan.
Prudence was slow to react, bending to take the pan off the fire, then dumping the eggs onto several plates at the table. “I do not see why I have to help at something I am not built for.”
“Because we have been very remiss about hiring a maid. In fact, twenty years have gone by and I have never seen one yet. Regrettably, as far as helping goes, you are it.”
“I help the household when I go to work in the vegetable garden. Am I to grow the vegetables, water them, nurture them, pick them and clean them, only to have to come home and cook them as well?”
“Certainly not! That is why I have you making eggs. There are no vegetables harmed or even so much as involved in the process. Now, check on the bread, if you please. I am still stirring the porridge and it is nearly done.”
Prudence rolled her eyes as she went over to the dutch oven sitting on embers from the fire. There was a cover on it, and more embers on top. She threaded a long, metal hook through the handle of the cover and lifted it off.
“The bread is bread like,” she said.
“And also not a vegetable. Is it bread like and ready to eat?”
“I am no bread expert.”
“You are quite adept at bothering me though.”
“We all must have one talent in life, little sister.”
Amelia did not want to argue anymore. Especially since her porridge needed no more care. She took the large pot off the fire and put it on the floor. She paid special attention to her dress, not letting it billow outward toward any open flames as she rushed across the fireplace to check the bread herself. It had a golden color and looked delicious. Their father would be pleased. He enjoyed a quick breakfast of eggs and fresh bread before heading out to work at the farm. Their brother thought porridge was the heartier choice. Amelia accepted that it was her job to make them happy at home so they could leave for the day with that same joy inside them.
Prudence, on the other hand, didn’t like helping in any way, and was not shy about making it known. She had been distracted all week long. Her imagination often carried her away on distant journeys and she was sometimes found staring into space in the garden. Amelia could not fault her sister for anything though. She worked hard tending to the vegetables, in-between daydreams, and shouldn’t be expected to do too much at home. But breakfast was different. Everything had to be ready on time.
At the opposite end of the room was an even more chaotic bunch. Amelia’s mother was holding their crying sibling. The youngest addition to their family was not even four months old. He was a strong looking boy with a full head of copper colored hair. Father was very pleased with his birth. On many occasions, the man would put his hand on his older son’s shoulder and say, “Luke, my boy, we are dreadfully outnumbered around here. But this little one will change it all.”
“We will still be outnumbered by women,” his son would reply.
“Indeed, we will. But there will be a fighting chance. That is all you can justifiably ask out of life. Give me its problems, but also provide me with a way to work through them. And then it is just about the doing.”
Luke would never quite understand what the old man was talking about, but would nod anyway. It only seemed polite.
Amelia turned around to count how many people were ready to eat that day. Her father was running late for work and yanked the door open. The twins loved to tease him by pushing it shut each time he did. He was an honest, hardworking man who couldn’t get out of his own house sometimes, no matter how he tried.
Amelia’s mother chased after him, with the baby still in her arms. “I do not understand why you refuse to have a bite to eat,” she said. “You are going to be tired all day from working in the fields. Is a bowl of porridge or a single egg too much to ask, Mr. Grant?”
“It is if you enjoy having a roof over your head when it rains, Mrs. Grant. I am already late enough as it is, and more so with the twins holding me prisoner such as they are.”
At the mention of Amelia’s siblings, she turned around and scolded them. “That’s enough now. Let your father go. Breakfast is almost ready.”
He seemed relieved when they listened to her and the door opened. But he only got one step through it.
“Take this before you go.” Amelia was rushing over with an egg sandwich.
“I already went through this with your mother.”
“That is why I made you something you can take with you.”
His mouth watered as he looked at the glistening morsels of egg poking out between bread. “Do not be silly. I could not possibly have such a lovely breakfast while rushing off. I might drop some of it on the way.”
“Then we shall have to compromise. Stand at the door and eat it. That is enough of a head start for the journey.”
Her father took the sandwich. He glanced out past the river and into the fields he would soon work in. He smiled, leaned back against the frame and took a big bite.
Amelia felt the stare coming from behind her. It was her elder brother, Luke, who worked on the farm with their father.
“Do not worry,” she said. “Everyone’s meal is ready. I will get you some porridge right away.”
“Can you scoop extra in my bowl?” he asked. “It is terribly exhausting to be in the fields all day.”
“Only if you don’t tell the others.” Amelia whispered it and smiled as she passed him.
It wasn’t long before the place was quiet again. Luke, Prudence, and their father finished eating, whether willingly or under protest, then headed off to work for the day. Amelia knew her family was a chaotic bunch, but loved them regardless. She found most things that came with their raucous nature quite enjoyable. There had always been a lot of wo
rk for everyone to do, but the house was filled with life and laughter when they were all together. That was the important part.
Amelia watched through the window as they walked over the grass to the riverbank, then followed it toward the bridge. The clink of a spoon hitting the floor and skidding across it made her turn around. She always knew which one of the twins was up to no good because of the angelic smile that came with such pursuits. Amelia swooped down to tickle both their cheeks.
“Aren’t you two so sweet?” she crooned to them.
Their eyes lit up with joy as they giggled and swatted her hands away.
“Amelia?” came her mother’s voice from the parlor. “Do you have a moment?”
Amelia glanced down at the toddlers once more. “Enjoy having fun while it lasts. When you grow up, you will have far less time for the joys of spoon throwing. Instead, there will be endless things to do around the house. Father may allow you to help with farm work as Prudence does if you are so inclined. But you are more likely to be married if our parents can find you an agreeable man.” She smiled and began whispering. “I think they have completely given up on Prudence.”
The twins, far too young to understand a word she was saying, cocked their heads to the side and listened to her voice.
“I need some help,” called her mother again.
Amelia went into the parlor. “I would have come right in, but there was an emergency with the girls. Silverware was flying everywhere. It was hectic.”
“Wait until you have a husband and children of your own. Your entire life will be an emergency.”
“That sounds very appealing,” said Amelia, sarcastically.
“It is the most rewarding thing a woman can do with her life.”
“And how am I to be rewarded today? What do you need help with?”
Her mother rocked the baby in her arms. “We have a lot to get done around here. While I keep an eye on this one and the twins, I need you to begin upstairs, tidying up the bedrooms. Come back down when you are through and I will help you sweep the kitchen and the parlor floor. It is all covered in dust.”
Amelia smiled as she grabbed the honey colored broom and swished it across the floor. “I am well aware of how much work it is just watching three children to make sure they do not get into any trouble. I can do the rest for you on my own.”
“That would be a bother. I have no wish to overwork you.”
“My family is never a bother.”
“I just want you to be happy.”
“I am always happy to help you around the house.”
“Would you not be happier if you were in love?”
Amelia rolled her eyes. “I am in love with the service I render to this household.”
“You know that is not at all what I meant.”
“You mean that I have to be in here to sweep and am now a captive audience for one of your infamous lectures about finding a husband.”
“I hardly think they have reached a state of infamy.”
“You badgered poor Prudence for years. She had to seek refuge in the company of parsnips and beets.”
“I pushed my oldest daughter in the respectable direction.” Her mother raised her voice.
Amelia put her finger up against her own lips and gently shushed. “You will wake the baby.”
Mrs. Grant took a deep breath before she continued in a lower tone. “It is important for you to find a good man to settle down with.”
“So I can sweep his house instead?”
“I said a good man. Hopefully one that has a proper household staff. You would not have to do any of this.”
“Yes, well, that need not be today.”
Amelia swept in small circles. She noticed a chubby mouse squeeze its body into a hole in the wall, wondering briefly how it got there. Her mother meant well. Amelia knew that, but could not bring herself to take those ideas seriously. What on Earth would her family do without her? Who would help to cook and clean? Certainly not Prudence. There was also the matter of their younger siblings who still required care. The twin girls would need to be out in society themselves one day. And the boy, father’s favorite, would grow into a strong man who would forge whatever life he pleased, be it farmer or soldier. There was so much that could be done to guide them along.
“Thank you for your advice, mother. I will try to take it to heart. But for the moment, you need not worry about me. I am pleased to help you as much as I can.”
Her mother nodded, pensively. Amelia knew she longed to say more. The baby cried again, interrupting their conversation.
“I can take him,” said Amelia.
Mrs. Grant eyed her daughter, suspiciously. “You are trying to get out of this.”
“I am good at calming him.”
Amelia scooped the child into her arms, swaying back and forth, singing a soft lullaby. Often, she would hum while completing her chores. It tended to quiet the baby. Amelia also decided that it was better to do things happily, no matter what they were. If it was something that had to be done, there might as well be a song to make the time go fast.
Chapter 2
It wasn’t often that Amelia got a moment to herself. The house was so full, and on most days, the chores did not end. When she could get away, she would always stroll through her favorite part of the duke’s large estate. Her family rented farmland from His Grace, as did many other families who made their living working the land. Somewhere far away, there was a mine. Amelia had never seen it. There was also a church, at a more convenient distance, that she was pleased to attend. But her secret place in the area was the apple orchard. The trees lined up in rows as far as she could see, and the whole place smelled as fresh and sweet as the fruit growing ripe on them. Amelia wanted to pluck the apples off and eat every one, finding she suddenly longed for something juicy. But she wasn’t there to steal, just to enjoy the quiet as the sky grew dim. In the back of her mind, her mother’s voice still rang loud and clear.
Would you not be happier if you were in love?
There was no way to silence that, even though it would be grand. Even though Amelia would rather have the silence than be forced to think about it. What was happiness, anyway? Was it never seeing your husband because he worked hard on a farm all the time? Was it struggling to raise six children? Was it spending years wondering if a bad crop would leave them all hungry? Amelia knew she would sacrifice anything for her family, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to start another one under those conditions. Should this fight to survive be for the rest of her life? It was a lot to consider. More than she needed to think about on her peaceful stroll. The apples were for better times.
Night was falling as she meandered through the orchard. Her hands trailed across the rough skin of the trees and her dress swept elegantly against the ground. In time, Amelia came to the woods, and beyond it, the road. She ambled out between trees to continue her walk down the center of the dirt path. The stroll had failed to calm her mind, so it was better to head home.
The sound of hooves violently beating the earth broke her concentration. It was getting closer at an alarming pace. There was no way to see what was coming around the bend. All she could tell was that it was much too fast. Amelia glanced up at the rising moon for guidance on which direction to turn, wondering if heaven would just rain on her as an answer. She chose for herself and veered off, trying to find safety at the side of the road.
A black horse came galloping around the bend as if the land burned behind it. The rider whipped the reins to pick up speed, determined to be somewhere else. His eyes locked with the girl on the road. He was barreling toward her. The man’s heart leapt into his throat as he yanked on the reins. The horse whinnied loudly, but charged on. It was too late. There was nothing he could do. Amelia jumped out of the way, hitting the ground hard and rolling down the slope into a ditch.
The horse finally slowed to a stop several feet away. The rider jumped off it and ran toward the ditch. The girl in it hadn’t moved.
> “Are you all right?” he said.
There was no answer as the man dropped to his knees beside Amelia and turned her over. He was stunned. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her fiery red hair almost gave off a glow by the moonlight, and her skin was so pale. It took a moment for him to compose himself again. There was a cut on her forehead that started to bleed. He shook the girl, trying to wake her, but she didn’t stir. The man scooped her up in his strong arms, carried her to his horse and sat her on it. Getting on behind her, he turned the horse around and cracked the reins. They rode off into the night.
Chapter 3
Amelia woke up with the worst headache she ever had in her life. It made her want to keep her eyes shut and stay in bed, but that wasn’t an option. She could tell that the sun was up already. The room was lighter. It had to be past time to get breakfast started, especially since it was left to her. No matter how sick she felt, Prudence would never help too much. It was quiet that morning, and the bed felt so wonderful and luxurious. It felt strangely like it wasn’t her bed or home at all.
Amelia sat up with a start. She opened her eyes, and the light made her squint. She put her feet down on the floor and tried to stand, but her ankle hurt so much that she groaned.
“Do not do that,” he said. “You really should rest.”
Amelia screamed. There was a man in a chair in the corner. He stood up but did not approach her.
“I will not harm you,” he said.
“Come any closer and I may harm you, sir.”
The room she was in was almost as big as her house. Amelia looked out the window. The well manicured countryside stretched on for miles.
“Where am I?” she said.
“Do you remember what happened?”
“I remember some fatwit, who was probably a trifle disguised on top of it, ran me over on his horse.”
His lips pressed tightly together. “You are wrong on all accounts.”
“I am quite sure that a horse nearly hit me.”
“But I had nothing to drink and I would like to think that…”
