Regency Romances

by Grace Fletcher

“I gave Isabella Eliot a pendant with a promise to marry her when I returned. But when I came back, and the doctors said I had amnesia, you decided to take advantage of that, didn’t you? I had rejected you publicly just before I left for France and you weren’t about to take that. You wanted me, by fair means or foul. And you weren’t about to lose me to a common chit who has more decency in her little finger than you have had in a lifetime.”

  Lady Emma’s expression said she could see her world falling away from her. Control was gone, and she had been shoved away. Then she gave a cry and ran at North, clutching at his coat.

  “How could you say that?” she wailed. “I love you! I’ve always loved you! We knew we were going to get married since we were children. You weren’t supposed to have your head turned by someone who shouldn’t be breathing the same air as us.”

  North pried her hands off him, gripping her wrists tightly as he kept Lady Emma still.

  “Meeting Isabella Eliot was a chance encounter, yes, but she’s the one I love.” He watched as Lady Emma’s face went white. “I knew she was the one who was going to be my wife. And now, because of you, I’ve lost her and I have a feeling there’s a chance I won’t get her back.”

  “Good!” Lady Emma shot back. “She’s not deserving of you. But I am.” She tried to reach for him again. “And I am destined to be your wife.”

  “You’re destined to be nothing!” North snapped. He pushed Lady Emma away and strode towards the door, flinging it open to see Wilson hovering just outside the door. “Wilson, Lady Emma was just leaving. Make sure her things are back on her carriage, will you?”

  “It’s already done, Your Grace.”

  “Good.” North turned back to Lady Emma, who hadn’t moved. “I don’t want to see you again, Lady Emma. And anyone who was involved with this charade are to keep away from me for the unforeseeable future. You tell them that and then get out of my life.”

  “You can’t do this to me!” Emma wailed. “You can’t!”

  “I can and I am.” Seeing she wasn’t going to leave, North left the room himself. “Good day, Lady Emma.”

  Now all he needed to do was get Isabella Eliot to meet him. They really needed to talk.

  ***

  Isabella was confused. Wilson had sent her a note saying it was important that they meet, and he had some news. What news? Was it about the duke? Isabella didn’t want to know.

  But she couldn’t turn Wilson down. He had been very kind to her as had Mrs. Wilson. And it had been a while since she had seen the kindly old man.

  So, Isabella slipped out of the house and headed down to the park. Wilson had suggested meeting in a secluded spot by the river, under an awning of trees. Isabella knew where he meant; it was a beautiful place she had spent with North. The first time they had seen each other after bumping into each other outside the hat shop.

  Isabella forced the man from her mind. She had made her choice as had he. They had to go their separate ways.

  Wilson wasn’t there when Isabella arrived, which was unusual; he was a very punctual man. Isabella paced around, aware that people were going to find her and think the worst. She needed to get this over with and get home before she was missed.

  “Belle.”

  Isabella spun around. Her heart almost stopped when she saw North walking towards her. He looked as fresh-faced as he had the first time they met, even wearing the coat from that day. A carnation was in his buttonhole, just as it had been on their first encounter.

  What was he doing here? And what was he trying to achieve?

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Forgive me for doing it this way, but I asked Wilson to help me send a message to you.” North stopped before her but he didn’t come close. He didn’t reach for her although his body was tensed up. “I had to speak to you, but I knew you wouldn’t want the same.”

  “You would be right about that,” Isabella said coldly. “I told you I didn’t want to speak to you again.”

  “And why is that?” North challenged. His eyes glinted. “Because I forgot that I’d promised to marry you upon my return? That I’d made that promise along with the gift of a pendant?”

  He indicated the pendant, still around Isabella’s neck. But Isabella was staring at him, realization dawning.

  “You remember?”

  “Yes, I remember now. The pendant triggered something.” North looked ashamed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had to get Wilson to tell me the truth as nobody else would. But when he did, it all came back to me. I knew what I’d done. How I met you. How I rejected Lady Emma and promised you marriage.” He swallowed. “I loved you, Belle. And I still do.”

  He still loved her. Isabella didn’t know what to say. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and never let go. But her pride stopped her.

  “Don’t think this will change anything,” she declared.

  “I hope it will.” North reached out and took her hands. Isabella didn’t pull away. His fingers were so warm, so familiar. She had missed it. “What happened between us since my return was unfortunate, but I know the truth now. I’ve called off the wedding to Lady Emma because I knew why I said I would never marry her. I didn’t love her. Nowhere near that.” He smiled and brushed a thumb across her jaw. “When I marry it will be to the woman who stole my heart with a hat pin she accidentally prodded into my chest when I walked into her.”

  He remembered that. Isabella could see it. That had been a small thing, but it was significant. North was clear on that now. And he looked desperate to have her close.

  “Please, Belle, just tell me you still love me.” He briefly closed his eyes and looked down. “If you don’t and you mean it, I’ll walk away and leave you alone for good. But I have to hear it from you.”

  That put Isabella into a state of panic. In spite of everything over the last few months, she still loved him. She didn’t want him to go. Nudging North’s chin up with her fingers, she clasped the pendant in her hand.

  “This has always been around my neck because I could never take it off. I tried to forget you and what had happened between us, thinking it was for the best, but I couldn’t. Because my heart went with you when you went abroad.” She cupped his face in her hands. “I still love you, Maurice.”

  North let out a relieved sigh and gathered her into his arms. Isabella gladly tilted her head up and accepted his kiss, running her fingers through his hair. She didn’t want to let go, not now. From the grip on her, North didn’t want to let go, either.

  He finally broke the kiss, his forehead resting against hers. Isabella could feel his heart pounding hard against his chest.

  “Thank God.” His voice was raspy. “I never thought I’d hear you call me Maurice again.”

  “North sounds better.” Isabella giggled.

  “That’s a fair point.” Maurice kissed her again. “But I don’t want to talk names right now. Unless it’s about turning Eliot into Barrett and Miss into Duchess.”

  Isabella smiled.

  “I think that sounds like a very good idea.”

  *** The End ***

  The

  Reprehensible

  Duke

  Regency Romance

  Grace Fletcher

  Chapter 1

  The Position

  Cassandra Mable opened the front door and stepped across the threshold. She winced when she saw the splinters coming off the edge of the door. They would have to get someone to sort that out. But with money as scarce as it was, it was going to be hard to find a workman who would do something for little compensation.

  Shutting the door, Cassandra headed along the hall to the kitchen.

  "I've returned!"

  Her aunt was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper, which nearly eclipsed their small table. She looked up, and her grey eyes sparkled with delight when she saw her niece in the doorway.

  "Sandy, dear." She sat up and reached out with a hand and a bright smile on her pale face. "I missed you."
/>   Cassandra smiled and squeezed Mary's hand before going to the kitchen counter, where she put down her basket.

  "I was only gone twenty minutes, Auntie Mary. What was there to miss?"

  "I know you were, but I still missed you."

  Cassandra laughed. It was a running joke of theirs, but it did ring true. Her parents died when she was sixteen, and her spinster aunt had taken her in. Mary had done an admirable job despite having never married and had no children, but now it was just them. No other family.

  None that acknowledged the poor relations, anyway. It had always been the two of them. Cassandra wouldn't have it any other way. Mary's health wasn't the best, but she was stronger than she let on. She was always there, and Cassandra needed that constant in her life.

  She brushed a few strands of blonde hair aside and sat at the table beside her aunt.

  "I got the food you wanted. It stretched the money we had pretty thinly though."

  "Good girl." Mary patted her hand. "And don't worry about the money."

  "Auntie Mary, we're going to be destitute if you have nothing coming in. We'll be homeless." Cassandra shuddered. "The openings for positions are so scarce right now. Once I find something, I'll be making enough money to look after you properly."

  Cassandra had never had a season or any marriage prospects for that matter; she had always been too busy working to make sure a roof was kept over their heads. Mary was good at crafts and made several blankets, knitted clothes and other things that she sold at the market at occasional intervals, but it didn't bring in much. So Cassandra's job as a governess or companion to the nobility had brought in most of their income.

  Mary sighed and tapped Cassandra's hand sharply with her finger.

  "Listen to your old auntie for once. I said don't worry. It wasn't your fault your last employer passed away. You worked hard, and you were smart enough to put away enough money to help us for this long."

  Her last position had been as a companion to an old lady who adored her and Cassandra was more than happy to run errands. But when she died, her daughter, who had never cared for Cassandra, had dismissed Cassandra. She released most of the staff and refused to pay them. Even the money the old lady had left in her will was refused to all of them, the daughter pocketing everything. Fortunately, Cassandra's frugality had provided for them the last six months.

  But now the money was nearly gone. Cassandra needed to find another posting soon, but it seemed as though everywhere she looked the position was already filled. Cassandra was stuck.

  There was no way she was going to leave her beloved aunt out in the cold.

  "Something will turn up soon." Mary smiled and winked. Even though she had just recovered from a bout of influenza, she seemed bright-eyed and found time to smile. "You're smart and pretty. One bat of your eyelashes and you'll have people snapping you up for work in no time."

  Cassandra wasn't sure that sounded quite proper and hoped Mary had said that in jest. While they may have been desperate, she would never consider becoming a woman of ill-repute. Mary really would have a heart attack with that.

  There was a knock at the door. Cassandra answered it and found the postman on the doorstep. He raised his hat and presented her with a letter before sauntering off. Cassandra shut the door and surveyed the letter with a frown. They didn't get many letters, and this one had a special seal on the back.

  Curiosity getting the better of her, Cassandra ripped it open, walking down the hall back to Mary. She scanned the first few lines and then read them once again, slowly.

  Cassandra was glad she got to a chair when she did because her legs had given way.

  "I can't believe it."

  "What is it?"

  Cassandra looked up. Mary was frowning at her.

  "This letter just arrived. It's from the Duke of Warwickshire."

  "Warwickshire." Mary's frown deepened a moment before brightening. "Oh, I know! That's young Marcus Murkwood, Neal Murkwood's boy. He took over from his father twelve years ago when Neal finally passed because of his drinking. What's he writing to you for?"

  "For a job." Cassandra read further down the letter. "Apparently his sister is just finishing her studies, and he wants her to have a companion."

  "A companion?" Mary gave a little delighted squeal and clapped her hands. "Oh, how lovely! That position will pay very well in the right family."

  "This one certainly does." Cassandra felt like she couldn't breathe when she saw the amount she would be making. She swallowed, taking a deep breath, and passed the letter over to Mary. "Look at the compensation he'll give me."

  Mary's eyes widened when she read the letter. She sat back and fanned her face.

  "Oh, mercy me! You will be very well pleased. That will be able to set us up for life and then some."

  Cassandra silently agreed. What she was looking at could have her quite comfortable in a few years, and they could have a new house and no worries about putting food on the table. They could get new clothes and pull themselves up in society instead of being so close to financial ruin.

  But there was a niggling foreboding in the back of her mind. She shook her head.

  "But it sounds a little too good to be true, if I'm honest, Auntie Mary."

  "How do you mean, dear?"

  "I mean it's just the bare essentials. There are no details or anything about the job." Cassandra took the letter and scanned it again. Apart from the title, there was nothing else about the job other than the salary and the time the Duke was going to pick her up to take her back to his country seat in Warwickshire. "It just says to be ready tomorrow afternoon at three. The way it's written he's expecting me to take the job, and he'll be here regardless of our response."

  Mary gasped.

  "Tomorrow afternoon? Well, you'd better get packing, my dear!" She stood and pulled Cassandra to her feet. "You can't possibly turn this down."

  "I could." Cassandra protested. But it was only half-hearted.

  "But you won't." Mary rolled her eyes. "Stop standing there with the cogs in your head turning and get moving." She managed to turn Cassandra round and pushed her towards the door. "Go!"

  Cassandra paced up and down impatiently, glancing at the clock for the fifth time in ten minutes.

  "Where on earth is he?" She complained. "He's twenty minutes late."

  "Maybe he got detained," Mary said brightly. Ten minutes ago the anticipation had been real. Now it sounded tired.

  Cassandra snorted.

  "Aunt Mary, this is a Duke we're dealing with. It's his high-and-mighty self believing that just because of his station in life, we have to wait on him before we've even started."

  It felt like she had been wasting her time already. She had been up most of the night packing her things into the only two trunks they possessed and then the rest of the night had been spent tossing and turning, thinking about her new position and what was to happen.

  What was Marcus Murkwood like? Cassandra knew he was young, a few years older than herself, but since she didn't move in those circles, she had never actually laid eyes on him. He was elusive, almost seeming to be a recluse. She hoped he wasn't a cruel man or she would be walking out regardless of her role.

  Mary had been more excited than Cassandra, bustling about and getting her ready to go even though they had hours to prepare. Cassandra had worried what Mary would do once she was gone so far away; her health could go at any minute. But Mary had swatted at her and told her she would be fine, hinting that the middle-aged widower across the street had offered to help now and then. Cassandra guessed that meant a man had taken a fancy to her aunt, who was still quite handsome despite her constant bouts of sickness. If that were the case, Mary would be fine.

  But she still worried.

  Mary was sitting in her usual chair by the fire, a shawl around her shoulders. She tittered at Cassandra's pacing.

  "Don't be silly. You just need to have a bit of patience. You are always so intolerant when it comes to punctuality."
<
br />   "Because it's good manners." Cassandra pointed out. "It's not proper to keep someone waiting."

  Mary sighed. She opened her mouth to say something when the knocker on their front door sounded, reverberating round the house. Cassandra's heart picked up the pace. That would be them. It had to be. Trying not to look so eager, she walked into the hall and opened the door. A huge man stood on the porch. He turned as Cassandra opened the door.

  Cassandra had to bite back a gasp. Was this Marcus Murkwood? Well over six feet, his black hair was longer than normal and just brushing at his shoulders. His jaw was clean-shaven, but Cassandra could already see the dusting of a beard appearing. His eyes were deep blue and hard as ice. He wore a dark blue coat over his shirt and waistcoat, his trousers matching the colour of his coat. A black cane was in his hands, which he was tossing between his large palms.

  He wasn't the typical man of the times as Cassandra was used to. This man was far too masculine for that. Not what she considered attractive but Cassandra found herself getting drawn to him.

  She guessed he must have many women vying to become his duchess.

  He looked her up and down, a slight frown etched between his eyes. For a moment his eyes changed, losing their hardened state, but then they were intense again.

  "Miss Cassandra Mable?"`

  His voice was deep and rumbled in his chest. Cassandra swallowed and dropped into a curtsy.

  "Yes, sir. That's me."

  "Marcus Murkwood, miss." Murkwood nodded briskly and indicated the carriage waiting on the road. "I have the carriage waiting. Put your things on the coach and we'll be going."

  Cassandra was reeling. He expected her to leave right now without any more preliminaries? How much of a hurry was he in to get back?

  "Please sir, won't you want to come in to meet my family?" She asked, hoping that she could entice him to come inside. Mary was more eager than she to meet him.

  His frown deepened, and he looked displeased that she wasn't doing as she was told.

  "We need to get going as soon as possible, miss."