To Find a Duchess

by Lisa M. Prysock

  She made up a little lunch pail for Benjamin Trimmel in case her walk extended beyond the noon hour. She washed the breakfast table and went upstairs to change into her brown half boots. She was surprised at how much better she was starting to feel since she her prayer. Peace was returning to her once again. She began to sing a little song of praise to the Lord as she finished getting dressed.

  She donned a simple but fashionable brown spencer and quickly tied her brown bonnet under her chin, anxious to be out of doors. She took her cream parasol and headed for the front door, closing it firmly behind as she stepped out into the fresh air. She did so love a morning walk. She might even take Clover riding afterward. She considered taking some time to play at the piano forte as she headed for the wagon trail leading toward the lake. The walk and a good ride would do her good, and then some time where her fingers could glide over the keys of the pianoforte. Perhaps she'd been working too hard at making a good impression on her new husband.

  The Duke had been pleased to intercept the mail coach that morning. He rode along the same dirt roads with the mail coach until he'd been able to hail it down, waving his arms from his mount. The coach, pulled by a team of four pair of horses, slowed with some difficulty but finally managed to stop. The lead mail carrier atop the coach looked completely annoyed. He had simply wanted to send a letter to Charles and one to Regina. He hadn't expected the coach to be carrying a letter for himself. There had been a brief conversation with the driver. It had taken some doing to convince the driver that he was indeed the Duke of Gloucester. He had finally produced a forgotten seal which had remained hidden far beneath the contents in the pouch on his saddle. Wearing such shabby boots, the lead mail carrier had eyed him rather suspiciously.

  The driver had waved to an assistant inside the coach and had permitted the Duke's personal mail to be handed off at once. There had only been two travelers on board and the rest appeared to be a small team of mail carriers and drivers atop the coach. The travelers had looked peeved and bored with the nuisance of a stop for one gentleman farmer on the road claiming to be a Duke. More than one of them had rolled their eyes until he'd produced the seal. Then their mouths had dropped open and that had been a brief source of amusement to William. The driver changed his tune and seemed apologetic.

  As the coach pulled out of his view, he broke the wax seal on the letter. Charles had written a brief note, warning him Lord Marcus would eventually be en route to the Hanwell farm, with Lady Catherine Duncan and what appeared to be a chaperone, driver and footman in tow. “Good Lord, what next?” he muttered, running a hand through his blond hair. With this dismal prospect before him, his jaw locked into a firm set and he quickly scanned the rest of the letter.

  He had to think of a way to entirely avoid the fiasco. This was one meeting that could be absolutely disastrous. He couldn't even imagine Lady Catherine Duncan in the same room with his sweet wife. He'd dealt with enough debutantes like Lady Catherine to last a lifetime.

  Turning his attention back to the letter, Charles had also mentioned that a Lady Victoria Aramonda Dresden had called upon him at the London residence. She had been in a huff and tossed around a number of threats about the whereabouts of her charge and demanded to know his location.

  He looked up from the letter again and wondered how Lady Dresden had traced Alexandra to him? He had been so careful to keep her out of their affairs, though he wasn't entirely sure what Alexandra had written to her benefactress upon exiting the manse or if anyone had seen them together and reported them, other than Jake. Perhaps Jake had been coerced or paid into giving a description that had led her to him. Had someone else seen or recognized them that evening when they'd left in the wagon and reported this information to Lady Dresden? The letters Alexandra had left for delivery by Jake had been rather vague as he recalled. He couldn't be certain of how she'd caught wind of their departure together, but something had led her to suspect him.

  Charles mentioned that on the next points he was confused as his information was limited, but further indicated in the letter that although he had no idea about the following accusations and statements, Lady Dresden had communicated she “might be” relieved to know Alexandra was with the Duke.

  “She persists in her desire to know your location, which I did not divulge, but also demands an invitation to the celebration of nuptials. I had no idea what she meant, but she specifically stated: once the young couple is most happily settled. She left here in a huff and with great disdain. She stated she is offended on the account she was not consulted regarding this match nor was her permission sought. She considers this a great error and is concerned that her ward will be cut. She did divulge to me rather carelessly, or on second thought, perhaps purposefully, that she would most certainly (and quite eagerly I perceived) grant her permission, had proper channels been followed.”

  (Well of course she would have, the Duke thought to himself... anything to ease her burden, unite Alexandra with a Lord Duke and allow her the freedom to return to her own agenda. Clearly she could care less what happens to Alexandra as long as she is married off to someone of prestige... what took her so long to find him?) William chuckled to himself from atop his horse as he thought this scene over in his mind.

  The letter continued:

  “Perhaps this communication will make some sense to Your Grace, but I remain in the dark where these statements are concerned. The last I remember her muttering was her intention to “follow you to hell,” right after she hies on over to Ivy Clifton Hall, where I believe her intention is to harass your family for information and make her demands known. I also believe this is my best summary of the matter of her statements regarding her ward, a certain young lady known as the Hon. Alexandra Benningham, who is at present, missing.”

  “Lady Dresden, wildly thinks her ward is in your possession, as she put it. I can't help but also write to inform you that despite her demands, she seemed most happy in all other regards, as I detected a brief smile on her face when she said she wished me to convey she could not be happier about Miss Benningham becoming the next Duchess of Gloucester.”

  “Marcus, however, was another matter and could not be so easily subdued in his search for you. He has made me aware that his intention is “to search every location this family owns,” as he put it, 'til he finds you. I believe he will start with the properties northeast of London, then those to the southeast before the farm at Hanwell as he circles around and back to Ivy Clifton. Forgive me Your Grace, but I impertinently asked him point blank where he thought you might be located. I asked this question in order to ascertain in what direction he might travel first so that you might protect your privacy. He will stop there en route to Bath, Your Grace, but not until he travels northeast and then southeast. He will then turn west along a southern route I assume and come through Hanwell, then Bath, then Ivy Clifton. He left here about an hour ago and by now, Lady Dresden may be soon to arrive in Berkeley at Ivy Clifton Hall, if she carries out her threats. I suspect she is one determined woman who will do exactly as she decides, with little wavering. I hope you are well and await your instruction on these matters.--

  As Always, Your Devoted Servant,

  Charles”

  “Oh bother!” the Duke said to no one's ears but those of his horse.

  Meanwhile, Charles, before taking up quill and ink to pen the Duke a letter, his head propped up by one finger under his chin and leaning to one side, was very contemplative as he watched from the open front door of the Duke's London residence as one very haughty Lady Catherine Duncan took her leave.

  She had been less than pleased to find the Duke nowhere to be found and stomped out of the hall, out the door and down the front steps dressed in bright blue silk and a flurry of more than one layer of white lace petticoats trailing out from under her dress and short train.

  “Come Lord Marcus!” she'd said through gritted teeth. Charles could only pray the Duke didn't find himself in the contentious position of having this “missin
g” Miss Benningham and clearly outraged Lady Catherine Duncan to deal with at the same time. He had a brief discussion with Marcus concerning his travel plans and wished him well on his journey. It looked to be a long ride, his present company considered.

  “How very peculiar...” he breathed with no lack of amusement as he watched an exasperated Lord Marcus climb into the coach with the demanding lady, if she could be called one. “Very peculiar indeed.”

  He wasn't sure who was going to be more difficult to deal with... Lady Dresden or Lady Catherine. He suspected the latter judging by the tilt of her chin and the very determined and ferocious look in her eyes. Perhaps Miss Benningham, whoever she was, if she had indeed captured the Duke's attention, maintained possession of a much better temperament. This Lady Catherine Duncan would not be a joy to serve. She seemed positively over indulged.

  Lady Dresden's tongue had been sharp, but then Lady Catherine's fashionable one and a half inch square heels had clicked and stomped more loudly and the silk ribbon tying her shoes to her ankles had shimmered more brightly. As for this Lady Catherine chasing the Duke across England and glaring at his servant and bossing Lord Marcus about and referring to His Grace as her affianced, how very poorly done indeed. Surely the family would have announced such a thing and the Duke wouldn't be fleeing his betrothed if this were the case. He reminded himself the Duke was a grown man and could handle his own problems but mentally noted to himself that he might remember a prayer for His Grace at bedtime. Both of these women looked to be quite lethal with their words, cunning... and their looks. “What has he gone and got himself into with not one but two women chasing him across England? And who and where is this Miss Alexandra Benningham?”

  Miss Alexandra Benningham was clearly lost.

  The lake was long behind her. Every tree looked alike; every blade of grass as though the one before. Every twig looked as though she had snapped it or stepped over it the step before. She was beginning to panic. The wooded path she had followed had long since ended hours ago... she now found herself trapped in a maze of trees, leaves, twigs and forest underbrush.

  She found a solid tree with a large patch of shade and soft grass. She sank to the ground beneath it in frustration and a pile of skirts. She looked at her brown boots and was glad she'd at least worn her sensible walking boots and not the pretty green slippers that matched her gown. Those would have been ruined by now. She had lost track of the time but it had to be close to noon judging by the sun. It was so hot, almost stifling hot. She was thirsty, tired, hungry and irritable. How could she have been so silly as to have gotten lost? Surely she could find her way back to the path and then to their cozy, little house.

  About an hour later she was beginning to feel complete panic as she tried to find her way back to the lake. She couldn't find one landmark she was familiar with and could see nothing but trees everywhere she looked. She was weary, hot and had discarded her spencer somewhere along the journey. Now she thought better of having done so for if night fell, she now had no coat to keep her warm-- or dry, if the air got chilly or rain began to fall. She could have used that spencer for a blanket or a small cushion to sit upon.

  The sky began to grow cloudy and a little while later a few drops of water began to fall! “Rain? Rain!” she repeated to herself. Wherever had she left her parasol? She began to pray as she proceeded in the direction she thought might be the lake. Dear Holy Spirit, the word says you are our teacher and comforter. You know where I am, even though I don't have a clue. Please help me find my way back to the house. Send your angels to help me. Help me not to panic. Please send my husband. Thank you, in Jesus' name.

  William had returned to the cottage immediately after reading the letter. He had given the reins to Benjamin and wandered into the kitchen to think in the solace of the rest of the quiet morning. The house seemed so empty without his bride there to brighten the day. He ate some bread, cheese and cold leftover chicken for lunch. He sat at the table and peeled an apple slowly with a paring knife while he contemplated his course of action and waited for Alexandra to return from her walk. He decided to take her away for a while until he was sure no one was coming to Hanwell to pursue him. He would leave Benjamin here to be a lookout and messenger when things were clear to return. Where to take his bride and for how long?

  By noon, Alexandra hadn't returned. He was more than concerned. He decided to saddle the chestnut again and went in search of his wife, leaving Benjamin to face the afternoon chores alone.

  “What do I do if she comes back before you do?” Benjamin asked.

  “You mean the Duchess?” William clarified, thinking of his wife. “Let her know to stay here if she returns. Tell her I have gone to search for her. Don't let her leave. If I don't find her by nightfall I will return for lanterns and more help if necessary. And if my brother and a Lady show up by coach, intercept me if at all possible. Try to distract Alexandra if you can...” Benjamin nodded that he understood these directions and watched the Duke ride off.

  Benjamin hoped the Duke could find his wife. She was a very nice lady indeed, he thought, and seemed to treat him pleasantly and with kindness. She also cooked very good food and victuals. He began the task of cleaning the stalls and tried to keep an ear bent for the dusty summer road down the lane in case a coach rolled up toward the house. He was pleased to find “the Duchess Lady” had left him a prepared lunch.

  When she still couldn't find the lake a little while later, she decided it best to settle down against the trunk of another strong tree and wait in one place. She was only going in circles and no one would ever find her if she continued more of the same. The raindrops had subsided and cooled things off. She fell asleep at the base of the trunk ... too tired from walking in the heat to even allow herself to feel frustration. She had to preserve her energy to find her way back to the farm and not waste it on her emotions about having gotten herself lost. When she prayed, she did feel a measure of peace. William would come, of that she was sure. She just didn't know when.

  Not long after she’d fallen asleep, William had picked up the trail she'd left after leaving the trusty footpaths. Eventually, he found her parasol and though it alarmed him a little, a while later he found her spencer and began to have the feeling at least that he was on the right track. The woods were so thick and dense through that area he had to sometime lead his horse through while walking. From time to time he found a little boot print on the ground that helped him know he was headed in the right direction. It seemed he lost the trail for a long while after that.

  He would call out for her --but no one answered. He had grown frustrated and started to pray for God to help him. Please Lord, lead me to her. Don't let her be lost... watch over her until I find her. He scolded himself for letting her go walking alone in these endless thick woods and chided himself all the way to her crumpled little body resting near the tree. He was astonished to have found her and had nearly given up hope of finding her before dark.

  The noise of the horse awakened her before he reached her. He was leading the horse through a very thick part of the forest now and had dismounted so the branches wouldn't hit him in the face.

  “William!” she breathed, looking as though she had awoken from a very deep slumber. She was blinking her eyes as she pushed her hands and arms on the ground to lift herself up partially from where her body had lain curled on the soft grass. She pushed her bonnet off her head so she could see more clearly. “It is you! You have come to rescue me... I'm not dreaming!”

  He found himself smiling and grinning from ear to ear when he met her eyes with his own. He dropped the reins to the horse, ran to her side and knelt there beside her, embracing her in a very relieved and strong gesture. His long arms wrapped her into his chest and he just held her as she burst into sobbing tears. “Hush now, don't cry. It's all right. I've found you. You are not lost anymore. Hush,” he whispered. “Of course I came to rescue you! Thank God I've found you!”

  By the time he'd found her by that t
ree he had practically given up hope of finding her on his own without help. He would have blamed himself forever had he not found her. He led them back to the Hanwell cottage lost in deep thought and in a sort of painful turmoil churning inside him that he could barely identify as the fear of losing the love he'd just begun to know. He did however feel strongly, the pangs of a man who recognized how serious it was to be a husband and... responsible... for the well-being of a wife.

  They were both thankful to reach the clearing where the house was situated. He poured her a hot bath in the kitchen and left her alone with a cup of hot tea, a stack of towels, robe and nightgown. He trudged out to the barn to bathe and give her privacy. She sank into the bath flooded with relief to be home. It felt good to be Mrs. Harcourt and settling into this quiet place in the country; but she wouldn't be wandering off too far on her next walk. Again, as she soaked in the hot water, she thanked God that He had led William to find her. Thank you Father for watching over me, for sending my husband to find me and for the embrace when he found me. Could it be that he really does love me?