Marriage by Proxy

by Cathy Duke

  “Millie, I am so happy we can be together for this wedding. This wedding makes it all seem more real.” Millie nodded her understanding.

  “How is your patient, that little boy, Jamie? It is so horrible what he and his mother have endured. Lord Brightmore is a hero.”

  Amy nodded her agreement. “Jamie will recover and he will work in the stables with horses which pleases him to think about. Mrs. Tanner is training Rosie to work in the house, although Cook is eyeing her for the kitchens, I think. They are settled in their own space in the servant's quarters.” Amy smiled. How proud she was of Arden doing that for these unfortunate people. “Arden's friend the Duke of Somerset will be joining us for dinner. He will be our guest until the wedding.”

  Millie laughed. “Oh, my. Another Duke in the house! Do you think I should have dinner in my room?”

  “Of course not, you ninny. You are my guest as well as the closest thing to a sister to me,” Amy quickly responded. “You must promise me to attend and give me support. I consulted cook on the menu…for the first time,” she added. “It is very intimidating.”

  Millie grew serious. “You must always be honest with me. I don't ever want to be a burden to you or His Grace.” Millie smiled warmly at her friend and squeezed Amy's hand with affection.

  A child's laughter could be heard in the hall coming toward Amy's room. “Ah, we are due to have an invasion…from the nursery.” Just then the door opened to find Eva bubbling with laughter. Her red hair was braided on each side of her freckled animated face. Mischievous green eyes bounced from Millie to Amy.

  “Mama! I have news. I have escaped the evil dragon!” She giggled. Eva ran to Amy with outstretched arms to receive her hug. Amy swept Eva up into arms for an affectionate hug.

  “So you escaped nurse again?” Eva asked laughing.

  “I want to see my princess dress.”

  “Ah, of course,” Amy pulled out a dress from her wardrobe, just Eva's size. Eva jumped up and down.

  “That is it. My princess gown,” Eva squealed. Amy held up the gown to show Eva. It was a pale green silk which complimented Eva's red hair. There were small satin rose colored bows around the hem. Satin roses decorated the bodice. “Where is my crown?”

  Millie laughed. Amy set the little gown on top of hers and said, “You will have the finest crown of flowers that can be made.” Eva giggled and gave Amy another hug. Then Eva spun around and suddenly spied the tray sitting next to Millie.

  “Are those lemon tarts? May I have one, Mama? I have been awfully good.”

  “Not awfully good, dear. You have been good.”

  “I know. Now may I have the lemon tart?”

  “Oh, my, Amy. She is a handful. She will be quite the flirt when she gets of age,” Millie added.

  “What do you mean she will be quite the flirt?” Eva has made her way to the tray as the two friends are conversing. “Eva, you must eat one of those little sandwiches before you take a tart.”

  “But why? I don't want a sandwich. I just have enough room for a lemon tart.”

  “You do have a weakness for lemon tarts, don't you? But sandwiches are better for you and you will only get a tart after eating a sandwich.”

  “Lemon tarts make me feel really good. That's why I eat them,” Eva said as she took a sandwich and daintily nibbled at it. “This sandwich is not nearly as good. Lemon is a fruit. You should allow me to have all I want.”

  Amy and Millie laughed watching the child as she finished the sandwich and then looked for permission before taking the lemon tart.

  “Millie, you better have a tart or they will be gone,” Amy offered laughing.

  “I wouldn't think of taking a lemon tart out of that child's mouth. I shall eat the chocolate tart instead,” Millie said as she reached for the chocolate tart smiling at Eva.

  Just then a scratch at the door softly interrupted the moment.

  “Yes?” The door opened and a woman entered. She was simply dressed in brown muslin. She carried a book and curtsied. She wore her brown hair pulled back in a simple knot. She was younger than her severe dress indicated, but a kind face looked tentatively at the scene before her. Eva had captured the lemon tart and was quickly digesting it before someone could change their mind.

  “I must apologize, Your Grace. I had left my charge napping and neglected to check on her.

  “Mary, please don't be disappointed. I fear I have spoiled the child more than once and she is understandably drawn to me. I do so enjoy her company, so never fret.”

  Mary smiled at Amy. “You have captured her heart, Your Grace. I hope Eva did not intrude…”

  “Not at all, Mary. I hope you won't feel you can't take a moment for yourself. I certainly enjoy Eva. She brings joy to me and I look forward to our visits. You do a fine job with her, I might add. I would be disappointed with severe supervision that would discourage her love of life and imagination.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” Mary reached her arm out to Eva. “Come Mistress Brightmore. Allow me to read to you.” Eva curtseyed and smiled at both women. When nurse gave a nod to her in reference to some prior lesson, Eva suddenly acknowledged the unspoken reminder.

  “It was a pleasure. Thank you.” Both Mille and Amy smiled at the offer the child made at politeness. Next Eva took nurse's hand and gracefully left closing the door quietly, but not before she winked at the two women, leaving them both smiling at her antics.

  ****

  Amy bathed in water scented with lavender. As she carefully dressed for dinner, the slightest scent of lavender followed her movements. She put on a simple gown of pale green voile that slid down her curves artfully to give a hint of her womanly shape. The skirt gently swayed with her graceful progress at dressing. The bodice was not daring, but fit to perfection, boosting just a sample of her ample breasts above the delicate lace trim. Daisy styled her hair into a simple bouquet of soft shiny curls on top of her crown with one stray strategically placed curl that fell to one side of her face that alluded to the pretense that it accidentally dropped. Such careful designing gave Amy a naughty air to her presence. Her lips were a natural rose color complementing her pink-flushed cheeks.

  “Your Grace, you look perfect,” Daisy muttered as she fussed with the last wisp of white blonde hair that refused to behave. “His Grace will be pleased with your appearance.”

  Amy looked back at the stranger in the mirror above her dressing table. She didn't recognize the woman in the reflection. Daisy had done wonders with her hair styling and the gown was simple but striking. Her heart fluttered at the thought of how Arden would see her.

  “Thank you Daisy. You truly are talented.” Amy worked her way to the door. She turned back and smiled at her maid. “Don't wait up for me. I can dress for bed myself.”

  On the landing to the staircase she met up with Millie. Millie was beautifully dressed in her off-white voile gown trimmed in dark green. Her thick dark chestnut hair was artfully coiled on her head with ringlet curls bouncing down her back. She was smiling as if she would burst.

  “Oh, Amy. You look so beautiful. I feel like a princess with my new gown.” She grabbed Amy's arm and started down the stairs with a bounce in her step.

  “You look gorgeous in that gown, Millie. It is amazing what elegant gowns have done for us…and the hair styles. They would not have been practical in our past lives. How different things are now for both of us. It all seems so much like a dream come true.”

  “I am so grateful for everything, Amy. You must promise to tell me if I …”

  “You must stop that thought right now. I love you like a sister. I would be lost without you. It is quite annoying to have you even think that way.” Amy squeezed Millie's hand as they came to the drawing room where men's voices could be heard. Amy recognized the deep baritone of Arden's voice in discussion with another man.

  Bradley Winsbow, seventh Duke of Somerset, was dressed regally in a dark green brocade waist coat with a starched white cravat worn with a wide turn-ove
r collar. His thick, blonde hair was neatly combed and cut fashionably short,curling up slightly at the collar. His sharp blue eyes missed nothing as he conversed seriously with Arden.

  “You must come to London and speak to Parliament, Brightmore.”

  “Ah, now you are angry, calling me by my formal name. Am I no longer your boyhood friend,” Arden teased. “You are a dead giveaway when you are out of sorts…Brightmore, for God's sake.”

  “Bloody hell, Arden. Your name alone would discourage these idiots.”

  “I will think on it, my friend.”

  Just then Amy stood in the doorway of the room with Millie just behind her waiting for the men to acknowledge them. Arden gazed at Amy awestruck by her appearance. He did a double take seeing what an image she made. He didn't want anyone else there so he could take his time and gaze and every single inch of her.

  “Arden, an introduction would be nice,” Bradley offered in the uncomfortable silence. Arden moved toward Amy with his arms outstretched to welcome her. He took her hands in his and kissed her fingers as he turned to look at Bradley. Bradley wore a smug smile.

  “Amy, my dear, may I present my friend and neighbor, Bradley Winsbow, seventh Duke of Somerset. Bradley, my wife, the Duchess Brightmore.”

  “Please call me Amy, Your Grace,” Amy said as she curtsied.

  “I would likewise be honored for you to address me as Bradley, a close family friend,” Bradley responded as he admired the beautiful woman before him. He glanced at Arden giving a sly wink. Since he had gotten his title from an uncle with no sons to pass it on to, Bradley was not so enamored with titles. He was raised a gentleman and had not been so happy to accept the title that had recently come to him unexpectedly. Bradley had a crash course on Duke behaviors that left him bored of the entire business. Arden had shared his wisdom on caring for tenants and estate matters and actually had made it interesting for Bradley. He looked at Arden with admiration because his wife was very beautiful.

  Then Amy turned to Millie and reached for her hand positioning her in front of Bradley when she introduced her friend. “Bradley, this is my dear friend and companion, Millicent Balston. Millie, this is the Duke of Somerset.

  Bradley looked at Millie for the first time. Usually guarded with his emotions and expressions as Dukes are trained to do, Bradley was taken by surprise and even perhaps shock. As he made an effort to mask his unplanned response he reached for her hand.

  “I must apologize. Your name again, please.”

  “Millie Balston, Your Grace,” Millie replied as she lowered her eyes and blushed at the attention.

  “You are also from America, I presume?” Bradley asked.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Millie responded. There was an awkward moment when Bradley recovered from his initial reaction and masked his expression. His aristocratic manners returned from their brief recess.

  “Miss Balston, you have an uncanny resemblance to someone I know,” Bradley added in apology. “I know I must sound rude, but I must qualify my reaction.”

  Arden watched the scene unfold between his friend and Millie. He must talk to Bradley later about this mystery that plagued his friend. He watched the facial reactions on Bradley's face and knew there was a serious puzzle going on that required more discussion.

  Bradley seemed to shake off his curious behavior and offered his arm to Millie to escort her into the dining room. Arden smiled down at Amy and took her hand in his and placed it on his arm as he escorted her behind Millie and Bradley. Amy looked up at him with just the faintest question in her pale blue eyes. She noticed the scene as odd too.

  “You look ravishing, my love,” Arden whispered in her ear as they stepped into the dining room where footman waited to serve their dinner. Amy blushed at the compliment. Was it the humble thoughts she had of herself or the promise of more attention from her husband? The table had been made down smaller for the party of four. Arden sat at the head and seated his wife next to him to his right instead of the opposite end as was customary. Bradley seated Millie opposite Amy and took the remaining chair at the opposite end of the table. The footman poured wine and serving began.

  “Miss Balston, do you have relatives living in London?” Bradley asked as he picked up his wine glass for a sip. Bradley watched Millie over his glass rim. Arden frowned and wondered at this line of questioning from his friend. Something was definitely eating at Bradley. Amy's attention went to Bradley's expressionless face and then she slowly glanced at Millie for her reaction.

  “Not that I know of, Your Grace.” A teasing smile creased her lips. “Do I have a twin lurking around here I don't know about?” Bradley chuckled at that. She was quite the flirt, he thought, but unpracticed which made it all the more alluring.

  “It would indeed be a blessing if there were two of you, Miss Balston, I can assure you.” He flirted right back without as much as a pause. How he loved this sport.

  Millie was composed. She smiled at Bradley and then dipped her spoon into the cream of onion soup without being affected by Bradley's line of questioning. Bradley smiled back at Millie and then looked at Amy and Arden who were captivated by the exchange.

  “I am indeed honored to serve as your witness at the wedding ceremony. It seems a good plan to have this ceremony and celebrate your marriage,” Bradley said glancing at Millie with a warm smile. Millie blushed and one corner of her mouth lifted with a hesitant smile as she focused again on her dinner.

  Amy was fascinated at what was going on between Bradley and Millie. Was Millie actually flirting? They seemed enamored with each other. How wonderful it would be to have her friend find love. But Dukes seldom married commoners. And commoners without a dowry to boot. When Amy looked at Arden, she realized he'd been watching her. It was a penetrating gaze. She suddenly felt warm. His eyes were heated and intense. She must control her thoughts or was it already too late? Yes, she was blushing.

  When the dinner was over, Arden looked at his friend who was watching Millie with interest. “Shall we retire to the library for some brandy, Somerset? The ladies can join us later.” He rose and waited for Bradley to join him.

  Once in his study with the door closed, Arden poured two brandies into crystal glasses and offered one to his friend. Arden went to the fireplace and stoked the fire. He stood and braced his arm on the mantle and turned to face Bradley. Bradley was frowning into his brandy glass deep in thought. A blond curl dropped down his brow as if that too was confused. He was puzzled, that was for certain.

  “Now tell me if you will, what the hell was that all about?” Arden asked softly.

  Bradley looked up surprised. “What?”

  “You heard me. Don't pretend stupidity with me. What's going on with Miss Balston? Who does she look like, for God's sake? Some minx you had an amorous episode with?” Arden said raising one brow.

  “Certainly not!” Bradley returned indignantly. “If you must know, my stepmother has a younger sister. I'm quite fond of her, actually. My aunt, by marriage, that is. Miss Balston looks like her twin…only twenty years younger. It's uncanny.” Bradley was pacing now with focus on his case in point. His hands threaded through his hair in a nervous anxious gesture as he turned to face Arden. “Really…really uncanny, I must say. I can't figure it out.”

  “Could they be related by chance?” Arden offered.

  “Now, how could that be with Miss Balston coming from America? I have gone through this in my mind a hundred times. Bloody hell. I am confused.”

  “People can resemble other people, naturally…that is not unusual. I once spotted a man who resembled Ted Branston. This man could have been a brother or cousin. When I approached him, I discovered they were not related at all. Just one of those things.”

  “Not this…Arden. I tell you it is more than a slight resemblance. It cannot be a coincidence. In fact, I do not believe in coincidences.”

  “Is your aunt married?”

  “Yes, for fifteen years. She has two boys and they look just like their father.
They really don't look much like her at all. I just don't get it.” Bradley said taking a big gulp of his brandy and holding out his glass for a refill. “They could be sisters even, I dare say.”

  Arden grabbed the bottle of brandy and poured Bradley another glass. “Perhaps you should talk to your aunt and see if she has any relatives that would explain this to your satisfaction,” Arden said as he took another sip of brandy. “It could be simply explained away…”

  “How is that, pray tell? I can't think of one simple explanation. I have imagination and yet not one thought comes to mind how this could be. Tell me what you know of Miss Balston.”

  “Only what Amy has shared. They met at a school for women where they became close friends.”

  “What of her family? She does have a family, I presume,” Bradley turned to face Arden with a hard glare.

  “Well, actually, no. She is an orphan.”

  Chapter 10

  Brightmore Manor, 1830

  Amy awoke to hearing birds chirping outside her window and what appeared to be a sunny clear day. A good day for a wedding. Daisy came bursting through the door with barely a knock. She carried a tray with steaming breakfast that she deposited on a table while she quickly adjusted pillow behind Amy's back. Daisy then set the tray on Amy's lap.

  “Good morning, Your Grace. A fine day for a wedding, I'd say.” Daisy pulled a napkin from under the plate of eggs and ham and put it over Amy's chest. Amy took a sip of chocolate.

  “Is Millie up yet?”

  “She is getting dressed now and said to tell you that she can help with your dressing as soon as she is finished.” Daisy went to the wardrobe and pulled out Amy's wedding dress and hung it out on the door of the wardrobe. “The gown does not need pressing again. The flowers for your hair are picked and in the kitchen in water.” Daisy removed a clean chemise and stays from a bureau drawer.

  Amy watched Daisy lay out her clothes as she ate her breakfast thinking how it all seemed so unreal. She liked Arden. Whenever she thought of him her stomach would feel like it was acting separate from her body behaving like a rebel to her mind. She would feel heated and flushed like she might faint if she didn't take control of her faculties. Although Daisy was chattering on, she didn't hear a word. Daisy's voice was distant as if she were in a different room. Amy was in her own world with thoughts coming from all places out of control. Finally, Daisy lifted the tray from her lap and took it out of the room leaving Amy staring at the door still wrapped in her private world daydreaming. Finally the day had come. She would truly be a bride.