Catherine couldn’t help herself. She had barely stopped crying since she had left Newcastle’s residence, not caring if anyone saw her. Catherine was past the point of caring now. Newcastle had broken her heart.
But she had been foolish enough to let Newcastle draw her in. The sensible thing Catherine could have done was walk away at the first possible moment. She hadn’t done that, now she had lost her heart to the duke. And he had ripped it up.
She wiped her eyes as best she could with her handkerchief and looked down at her sister. “How can I not, Louisa?” she whimpered. “I was foolish enough to think that this would even happen. I was foolish to believe that someone of my station and a duke…” She shook her head and threw her hands in the air. “It was not meant to happen.”
Louisa looked like she was close to crying herself. “I know. And it’s my fault.”
“Why do you say it’s your fault?”
“Because I suggested that you go to dinner with him. I should have kept my mouth shut, and you wouldn’t be here bawling your eyes out.”
Catherine didn’t want her sister to feel guilty. She cupped Louisa’s jaw in her palm. “It’s not your fault, Louisa. Don’t ever think that. It’s mine and always will be mine. I’ve lost my heart to a man I can never have, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
That was when Louisa fell silent. If anything, she paled before her sister and her skin was suddenly cold.
Catherine drew her hand back, staring at Louisa. “Louisa? Are you all right?”
Louisa was interrupted by someone banging on the door. Catherine groaned. It was more than likely carol singers coming over to sing for their favourite neighbour. She wasn’t sure she could cope with cute little children singing to her on what was meant to be a happy day. Nevertheless, Catherine stood and composed herself. She would greet the children with a smile and make sure they left with some good Christmas cheer following them.
But when she opened the door, her smile faded, and her heart started to race. Newcastle stood on the doorstep, along with a young man with red hair in a soldier’s uniform. Both of them looked grim, the soldier almost pained. What was he doing here? Catherine managed to find her voice, resisting the urge to reach out and see if Newcastle was real. “Your Grace,” she whispered and then cleared her throat. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Can we come in, Catherine?” Newcastle nodded over her shoulder. “It’s important.”
Catherine knew she should have shut the door. But instead, she found herself stepping to one side and allowing the two men into the house. Closing the door behind her, Catherine turned to find Newcastle standing in front of her.
Without any warning, Newcastle cupped her jaw with both hands and kissed her. Catherine started, too surprised to pull away. Then Newcastle raised his head, giving her a small smile. “That was for luck.”
“I…” Catherine almost forgot how to speak. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain in a moment.” Newcastle indicated the soldier who was hovering by the stairs looking uncomfortable. “This is Lieutenant James Perrier, Lord Perrier’s grandson. We need to speak to your sister.”
“Louisa?” Catherine looked from one man to another. “What… why?”
But Newcastle didn’t answer, for Louisa had appeared in the hallway. She stopped when she saw Newcastle, and then her eyes landed on Perrier. Her face paled. Catherine thought she was about to faint. “James.”
“Louisa,” Perrier growled.
They knew each other? Louisa had never said anything about the lieutenant. Catherine would have known about it. “I… I don’t understand.”
Newcastle took her arm and led her towards the living room. “I think you need to sit down, Catherine.”
Catherine wasn’t about to argue with that. She allowed the duke to lead her into the room where he sat her down on the couch by the window. Louisa was herded into the room by Perrier and hovered near her sister, looking nervously between the two men. She looked like she was about to run.
Catherine had no idea what was going on. Clearly, Louisa had done something wrong. But what? If Louisa was in trouble, she would have told her sister. Wouldn’t she?
Newcastle turned to Catherine first, giving her a sad smile. “You have to forgive me, Catherine. When those letters arrived, I jumped to the wrong conclusion. I was made to believe they were between you and Lieutenant Perrier. But they weren’t.” His expression hardened as he turned to Louisa. “They were between the lieutenant and you, weren’t they, Miss Louisa?”
“What?” Louisa’s mouth fell open. “I…”
“The duke came to find me after I got off the boat,” Perrier said grimly. He was still standing by the door. “He accused me of being your sister’s lover. Then I realised what had happened, and I knew it was you.”
What were they saying? Catherine stared at Louisa, whose face was so pale she was practically translucent. “You sent the letters to Newcastle? But why, Louisa?”
“I didn’t do anything of the sort,” Louisa protested, but Perrier snorted.
“Oh really, Kitty?” He sneered. “You wouldn’t?”
“Kitty?” Catherine was startled. She hadn’t heard that name in a long time. “That was my pet name when I was a child. Louisa?”
Louisa looked like she was about to faint. Then Catherine saw her hands curled into fists at her sides. Her sister’s face was getting colour back, but it was a deep red. Her mouth curled into a defiant snarl.
She had never seen her little sister look like this.
“It’s typical of my life,” Louisa hissed. “I always get overlooked, especially when my big sister is around.” She swung around on Catherine, causing her to shrink back from the sudden hatred in her sister’s eyes. “With you around, I was second best. Didn’t matter that I could play the piano like an angel or I could write my own music. When you got into the light, it was all about you.” She jabbed a finger at Catherine’s face. “I just wanted a bit of that.”
Catherine could hardly believe her ears. Louisa had never indicated that she hated her. “You… you’re jealous of me?”
Louisa snorted. “Why shouldn’t I be? You get everything. I had to follow you about and pretend that I was your loyal servant. Just so I could have a bit of your fame.” She looked up at Newcastle, who had been watching the scene solemnly. “And then you had to get the attention of the man I wanted.”
“I…”
Newcastle folded his arms. He pursed his lips. “Your sister and I met back in the summer at a garden party. I was intrigued by her, and she was interesting company, but that was it. Just good conversation. Clearly, Miss Louisa thought there was something more.”
“Something more?” Louisa gasped. She advanced on Newcastle. Catherine had never seen her look so desperate. “You showed me attention. You showed me kindness. I fell in love with you. You were meant to be mine. You, Newcastle, were all I wanted.” She shot an angry look at Catherine over her shoulder. “But then my darling sister sang at your house, and you were clearly smitten with her, even when I tried to turn your attention on to me.” She bared her teeth at her sister. “It’s always the same. Catherine takes everything away from me. I wasn’t having it.”
Catherine stood. She wasn’t about to be spoken about like this, especially not from her little sister. “You urged me to have dinner with Newcastle,” she pointed out. “If you were in love with him, you should have said something. I would have backed off.”
“I said you should go to dinner because I thought it was going to be a one-time thing, one where he would tire of you pretty quickly, and I could have him back. But I thought wrong. It went wrong for me.” Louisa squared her shoulders. “I decided to do something about it.”
“And you used the letters I had written to you as the proof that your sister had a lover elsewhere,” Perrier said quietly.
“Calling yourself Kitty so you could pretend to be your sister in some semblance,” Newcastle added.
“I didn’t pl
an it like that. It just happened. And it was perfect.” Louisa reached for Newcastle, who stepped away from her. “I thought if Catherine was believed to be promised to someone else, you would get rid of her. Then I could come in and comfort you.”
“You used me.” Perrier sounded pained. Catherine saw him swallow hard. “You used me for your own gain.”
That was when Louisa turned to him. She looked close to crying. “James, I…”
“I’ve got to get out of here.” Perrier stumbled towards the door and disappeared.
Louisa ran after him. “James, wait!”
Moments later, the door shut with a slam, leaving Catherine and Newcastle alone. Catherine closed her eyes briefly with a heavy sigh. “Oh, Louisa, you silly fool. I had no idea.”
“Sometimes we don’t see what’s right in front of us,” Newcastle said quietly. “And Louisa was clever about it.”
“She almost succeeded.” Catherine began to pace. “She should have told me. I would have happily traded places with her. She knew that.”
“I have a feeling she wanted more.” Newcastle darted in front of her, grabbing Catherine’s arms to halt her. “Stay still, please. You’re making me dizzy.”
“Forgive me.” Catherine could hear raised voices out in the street. She didn’t need to guess who they were. “Do you think Lieutenant Perrier will forgive her? Louisa did use him to her own gain.”
“In time. It’s clear that he adores her. But Louisa has a lot of making up to do if she doesn’t want to create a scandal of herself.” Newcastle rubbed Catherine’s arms, taking her hands in his. “Very much the same as me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was taken in by her plan.” Newcastle looked bashful. “I should have listened to you, Catherine.”
Catherine could see he genuinely meant it. Her heart started picking up the pieces and putting itself back together. “Yes, you should have listened.” She grinned. “And yes, there is a lot of grovelling to do.”
“Grovelling?” Newcastle groaned. “I didn’t realise it was that bad.”
“Depends how you want to go about grovelling.”
Then Newcastle was smiling, gently tugging Catherine close. “I certainly know.” He kissed her forehead. “Marry me, Catherine.”
That proposal took the wind out of Catherine’s sails. She swayed, and Newcastle kept her upright by slipping his arms around her. She pressed her hands on his chest and stared up at him. “You… I really wasn’t expecting that.”
“I was going to ask you tomorrow, Christmas Day. Make it a special present to the woman I love. And your sister almost jeopardised it.” Newcastle shrugged, his smile widening. “So I’m going to have to give you your present now.”
Catherine laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to ask not demand?”
“I don’t want to lose you anytime soon.” Newcastle kissed her softly. “Not to my mother, not to Louisa, nobody.” He kissed each of her hands. “Marry me, Catherine.”
“You don’t mind that you want to marry a singer?”
Newcastle groaned. “Please, Catherine, don’t tease me. What I mind is not having the answer I want right now.”
Catherine giggled. She slipped her arms around his neck, allowing Newcastle to sweep her into another kiss. “You are so lucky,” she said against his mouth.
“I know.”
“I don’t think you do.” Catherine drew back, tapping his nose affectionately. “If I didn’t love you, you’d be out on your ear right now. And you wouldn’t have your answer.”
Newcastle grinned. “But I’m still here.”
“Yes. You are.” Catherine kissed him. “That’s your answer. But on condition that we go to Gretna Green. I don’t want to deal with your mother or my sister during wedding preparations.”
“I was going to suggest that myself.” Newcastle raised his eyebrows. “Just don’t run out on me.”
Catherine had no intention of doing that.
*** The End ***
The Duke &
isabella’s pendant
Regency Romance
Grace Fletcher
Chapter 1
Beauty By the Lake
Maurice Barrett, Duke of Northumberland, opened his eyes and realized he was back on the field. He could smell the gunpowder in his nostrils, filling the air, and there was also the distinct smell of blood. Several of his men lay nearby, clearly beyond saving as loud bangs of the cannons sounded around him.
He couldn’t be back here, surely? He was at home. But North was really in France, fighting the French for dominance. And his attack on a particular battalion had gone horribly wrong. Now most of his men were gone and he…well, North didn’t know anymore. His head hurt like someone had split it open and he could hardly breathe. The gunpowder seemed to be filling his lungs.
North slumped to his knees, clutching at his chest as he tried to breathe in clean air. But none came. He was suffocating, his throat closing up, and the blackness was pressing hard on his chest.
“Your Grace!”
That was a voice that sounded familiar. But North couldn’t place it. Then he felt someone shaking his shoulders.
“Your Grace, wake up!”
North jolted awake. He found himself staring at a white ceiling. The air was clear, and he could suddenly breathe again. It was glorious. Even though his head was still splitting.
Then his eyes focused on the elderly man kneeling beside him, hands still gripping the younger man’s shoulders. North had to stop himself from embracing the man in relief, clutching his arm instead.
“Wilson! Thank God!” North rubbed at his eyes. “I thought I was back in France.”
His butler snorted.
“No fear in that, Your Grace. After what you went through, you’re staying right here.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
North wasn’t in France at all. And wouldn’t be again for the unforeseeable future. He was back at his country estate in the north of England, lying on one of the couches in his study. Then North remembered he had attempted to start on some paperwork but his head had been hurting too much. So, he had decided to lie down and rest his eyes to see if that worked.
Clearly, it hadn’t.
North slowed sat up, holding onto his faithful servant as he swung his feet to the floor.
“There’s nothing you needed of me, is there?”
“No, Your Grace,” Wilson shook his head. “Mrs. Wilson and I have things under control. All you need to focus on is getting better.”
The man was a godsend. He and his wife, the housekeeper, kept the house running smoothly. North had seen them do it when his father had been the duke and the previous Duke of Northumberland had spoken of how he witnessed Wilson and his wife start out as young people, before they married, working for his father. They had been in the same household for nearly sixty years and they were as sprightly as they had been at seventeen and eighteen.
North gave his butler a grateful smile as he grasped his hand.
“I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“I’m glad you have confidence in me.” Wilson helped North to his feet. “Why don’t you go for a walk around the gardens? Some fresh air might do you some good.”
“Yes, Father.”
Wilson rolled his eyes.
“And he was just as stubborn as you are now. Even with a cracked skull.” He turned North around and gently pushed him towards the door. “Go. Mrs. Wilson wants to do some cleaning, and she doesn’t fancy sweeping you into the dustpan.”
North laughed. Even at seventy, Mrs. Wilson bustled about as if she was eighteen years old. She could give North a run for his money. Not that North wanted to try that out; he had a feeling he would be the loser.
Heading out onto the terrace, North went down the steps and into the vast gardens. Wilson’s suggestion was a good idea. There was a perfect place he had found that would be suited for the purpose. A huge oak sat next to the lake a quarter of a mile from
the house, nature having made a soft blanket of grass into a perfect seat, big enough for two.
That was where North went, sitting down with a relieved sigh and looking out at the calm waters. His head was still throbbing.
If only he could remember more. When North had woken up, it had taken a few days to remember his name. The last thing he could remember with some clarity was going into battle where he had been caught hard on the head. The doctor said he had some memory loss and there was a chance he might never remember again.
It slowly came back over time, with the help of his servants and his mother, the dowager duchess. Now North could remember his mother, his staff, and several of his relatives who had stuck by him while he convalesced in Northumberland. He could even remember his future bride, who had been waiting patiently for him when he came home.
That was the strangest part of it. North now knew he was engaged but there was nothing when he looked at the woman he was going to marry. Something didn’t sit right, but he didn’t know what. And nobody would address it, his mother saying there was nothing wrong at all and he was just unwell from the knock.
North had given up thinking about it. It wasn’t as if he had to marry for love, anyway.
It was a warm day. And the sun was warming his legs, the leaves shading North from the rays. He stretched his legs out and closed his eyes. In the past few days, he had found himself gravitating to this part of the lake and sitting there, looking at the beautiful scenery. Even though it was nice, North had a feeling something was missing. It was as if he needed to be here with someone else.
North had no idea how long he was asleep for—no dreams about the battle this time—until he felt lips on his cheek. That roused him, and North opened his eyes to find a beauty leaning over him. He couldn’t stop himself from staring.
Lord, she was beautiful. Red hair pinned up in a chignon, smooth creamy-white skin with dark eyes that were wide and full of warmth. And that mouth, curved into a soft, affectionate smile, was enticing. North wondered where she had come from.
“Am I dreaming?” he murmured.
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