Love Stories of Enchanting Ladies: A Historical Regency Romance Collection

by Bridget Barton

  If she hesitated for a moment, he would be upon her, and there was no telling how far he would go. And so she was off and running as fast as her legs would carry her, tearing out through the drawing-room door and hurtling her way along the corridor outside.

  She was too afraid to look back and see if her husband followed her, and so she just kept running and running. She turned this way and that and very quickly realized that she was, once again, entirely lost.

  She silently cursed Lytton Hall for its size and complexity. She would rather live in a tiny cottage of two rooms than spend another night under that enormous roof.

  After some minutes, Eliza thought that she had likely doubled back on herself in some way and was suddenly in fear that she would come face-to-face with the Duke. She paused for a moment to catch her breath and turned to look behind her. She listened intently, but there was no sound, and so she stood still as a statue and wondered what on earth she would do next.

  Just when she thought she could not be any more afraid, a hand seemed to come from nowhere and grip her upper arm firmly before pulling her into one of the rooms and closing the door behind her.

  Chapter 14

  Daniel had been just about to call an end to his working day when he heard the sound of running footsteps outside the door of his study. He sat back in his chair and stared thoughtfully at the door as if he could see through it if he tried hard enough.

  By the time he had risen to his feet and opened the door a little to peer out, there was no sign of anybody. Perhaps it had been one of the servants, and yet why on earth would they be running? Why on earth would anybody be running through the corridors of Lytton Hall?

  With a sigh, he sat back down again, and yet he knew he felt a sense of disquiet as if there was something to be concerned about.

  But he had barely a few minutes to think about it before he heard the sounds of those same running footsteps returning, seemingly coming back from the opposite direction.

  This time he got to his feet quickly and made his way to the door. He listened intently, and although the footsteps had ceased, he could hear the sound of somebody breathing heavily outside, trying to catch their breath.

  He opened the door a crack and peered out and could see Eliza, just feet away, with her back to him leaning forward slightly with her hands on her abdomen and her breath screeching in and out of the lungs.

  For just a moment, he stood and stared with no idea what he ought to do next. But in no time at all, he came back to his senses and very quickly realized that Eliza had surely been running from somebody, and it could only have been her husband.

  Not wanting the Duke to finally find her if he really was in such a state that she had taken to her heels, he quietly stepped out of the room, reached out and took her arm, and quickly pulled her into the study and closed the door.

  Her nerves must have been so rankled, her sensitivity so heightened, that she filled her lungs to scream the moment he touched her.

  But he pulled her into the room quickly and held out a hand in front of her face to beg her to remain silent. Whilst he had heard no sign of the Duke in pursuit, a scream would certainly have provided a greater chance of Eliza being discovered.

  “It is alright, you are safe. Please do not scream, Your Grace,” he said firmly as he stood in front of her, gripping her shoulders lightly to steady her. “Just take a few deep breaths.”

  Whilst her face was ashen, there were two bright spots of colour in her cheeks which spoke of fear and exertion. Her breathing was ragged, and he could see that she was in shock.

  “That’s right, just breathe slowly. You are safe; you must trust me.”

  “Oh, my goodness, I thought he would kill me.”

  “His Grace? Was it he who chased you?”

  “I do not know if he gave chase in the end or if he remained in the drawing room. But I knew that if I did not run from him, he would most certainly have hurt me if not worse.” She was still trembling, and he could feel it.

  “What on earth happened?” This time, Daniel did not care that he was overstepping the mark.

  “I said too much. I argued back, and I fear I have sealed my own fate.”

  “Argued back?”

  “Oh, I can hardly think straight, but Augustus made the most pathetic attempt at an apology for his behaviour the other evening at dinner. So pathetic, in fact, that it was not really an apology at all. I did not outrightly refuse it, but I did not accept it either.”

  “And he grew angry?”

  “He began to, but I made things so much worse. My own pride would not let me sit there and have him take away every single right that was once mine without saying a word. “She paused and continued to breathe deeply.

  “You see, he has forbidden me to leave Lytton Hall again. I am not to see Ariadne anymore, nor even write to her. And when he blamed me again for there being no sign of an heir for him, I turned it back on him, and I told him that the failure was his own.”

  She closed her eyes as if remembering all that she had said, and he could see the deepest regret on her face. “I said things I should not have said. They were things that I meant with every fibre of my being, but I should have had more sense than to say them. I have done this to myself; I have only myself to blame.”

  “There is only one person to blame; you must not look at yourself for this. And I daresay it was foolhardy to accuse your husband of such a failure, but given his behaviour of late, you cannot be blamed for it. He has pushed you too far.”

  “Indeed, he has, but I have nowhere to run to. I realized that the moment I set off along these dreadful corridors that seem to lead to nowhere. I was so lost, Mr Winchester, I could not tell in which direction I was heading in the end. How glad I am that you found me when you did.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said and tipped his head to one side listening intently. “I can hear footsteps.”

  “Oh, my goodness, he has come for me,” she said and began to tremble so violently that Daniel feared she would collapse altogether.

  “I will keep you safe; I will not let him hurt you.”

  “You are such a good man, Mr Winchester. This is not the first time you have made me feel safe. But I cannot let you do this, in truth, I cannot,” she said and turned as if to make her way from the room. “I must face him sooner or later.”

  “Then let it be later,” Daniel said and increased his grip on her, pulling her towards him a little. “Let it be when the drink has worn off, and he is better in control of his senses.” With a sudden idea in mind, he began to usher her through the study. “But for now, you must simply hide.”

  “But where?” she said, and he could sense her panic rising again.

  “Forgive me, but you must crouch under the desk. It is the only way; he will not be able to see you at all from the door,” he said, and as she stood staring mutely at the space he indicated, Daniel gently began to push her, urging her to hide herself sooner rather than later.

  As soon as she was hidden away, Daniel sat down again and drew his chair as close to the desk as he could safely manage without colliding with her. He lifted one of the papers he had been studying and tried to look as natural as possible.

  Daniel strained to listen and could hear the footsteps going this way and that and doors opening and closing loudly. The Duke was mounting a very extensive search and would likely do so until he tired of it, and sick with drink, take himself off to his chamber to sleep.

  Augustus Tate had become the very worst expression of himself, and Daniel knew that he did not have a single shred of respect left for the man he had once thought well of.

  The shuffling and slamming outside and the wait for the Duke to make his way into Daniel’s study was dreadful, and he could sense the toll it was taking on Eliza as she crouched fearfully under his desk.

  What sort of man could have his wife so terrified that this was her only course of action? What an appalling, vile way to behave.

  Just as Daniel was beg
inning to work himself up into anger, the door flew open, and there stood the Duke of Lytton.

  “Your Grace?” Daniel said, tilting his head to one side in question and doing a very reasonable job of believable surprise. “Is everything alright?”

  “Has she come this way?” the Duke said in a slur. “Well, has she?” he went on when Daniel stared at him nonplussed.

  “I beg your pardon, your Grace, but who?”

  “The Duchess. I am looking for her, you see, and I cannot find her anywhere.” As he spoke, spittle flew from his mouth and clung to his chin.

  Daniel stared at him wordlessly for a moment, wondering how it was that Augustus Tate could have let his standards go so very badly. He was never a fine figure of a man, and it was true to say that his previous standards had not been particularly high.

  But as Daniel looked at him now, all he could see was a sad shell of a man, a fat drunk whose waistcoat was only partially buttoned over an immense belly, whose shirtsleeves were no longer white but stained with spilled brandy and God alone knew what else.

  His face was redder than Daniel had ever seen it, and he assumed it to be not only the drink but the man’s own fury and exertion. Although it was clear that he had not run as Eliza had, the Duke had moved at a speed he was unlikely to have moved at for some time. For a moment, Daniel could not help but harbour a secret wish that the man would drop to the floor, his heart giving way.

  Even though he knew that such a wish was wrong, he could find no way in his heart to take it back. The Duke had treated his wife appallingly, and he did not deserve any mercy.

  “If she has come this way, Your Grace, I have not heard her.” Daniel was surprised at how sincere he sounded.

  “Well, perhaps she will come this way soon. If she does, you must bring her to me.” As he spoke, the Duke’s head lolled a little to the side, and he appeared to be suddenly exhausted.

  “Yes, of course,” Daniel said brightly, giving no hint that he saw anything amiss in the Duke’s request.

  “But you must bring her to me, do you understand? Do not simply tell her to come and find me or that I am looking for her; bring her to me in the drawing room,” he said and roughly wiped his wet mouth with the back of his grubby sleeve.

  “Yes, of course,” Daniel repeated, fighting an urge to come around the table and give the vile old man the beating he so richly deserved.

  What fortitude Eliza had shown until now, and how little Daniel had seen it. As he regarded the Duke, he saw what Eliza saw. That such a young, perfect woman should be confronted with that day upon day was an offence and that was certain.

  “Well, very good. Very good, carry on,” the Duke said and looked vague, sick, and drunk.

  He left the room without bothering to close the door behind him, and Daniel sat where he was silently until he could no longer hear the dragging footsteps.

  He rose to his feet once again and hastened to the door, peering out to see that the Duke had disappeared out of sight.

  “You are safe to come out now, Your Grace. And you must forgive me for leaving you there.”

  “Forgive you? Goodness me, but you have saved my life, I am sure of it.” She said, and he could feel as he helped her up that she was trembling more than ever.

  No doubt she had thought herself about to be discovered at any moment, and yet she had done everything to stay silent in her hiding place and keep her breath as steady and as noiseless as possible. She really was the most courageous young woman Daniel had ever met.

  “Here, let me help you into this seat,” he said.

  But no sooner had he spoken than she pitched forward a little and fell against him. Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around her to steady her, but she suddenly dropped her head onto his chest and tried to get her breathing steady once again.

  He did not want to move her; he did not want to try to seat her, not just then. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her, to feel her in his arms. As he wrapped his other arm around her and held her close, she did not resist at all. Rather she continued to lean against him, even as the trembling began to cease.

  After several silent minutes, Eliza finally began to straighten up. He released her, but not entirely, keeping his hands protectively on her upper arm in case she should fall again.

  But he could see that she had gathered herself, that she had fought for control of her emotions once again and was almost winning. But still, he kept hold of her, albeit lightly.

  “Thank you, Mr Winchester,” she said with quiet dignity.

  “There is nothing to thank me for, nothing at all,” he said, and for a moment the two of them simply looked into one another’s eyes.

  Irresistibly, Daniel began to lean forward, feeling certain that he could not fight the sudden urge to kiss her. But as he continued to regard those beautiful golden-brown eyes, he knew that he could not do it.

  She was afraid and vulnerable, and he would not take advantage of that. If he did, he thought he would be no better than the Duke.

  Instead, he cleared his throat and helped her into the seat he had vacated.

  “You will be quite safe here, I promise,” he began and realized that his voice was hoarse. “I will quietly make my way to the drawing room and peer inside to see what state he is in. He looked so drunk, so exhausted, that I think he must surely be asleep very soon. But you wait here, and if you hear footsteps, take caution and hide yourself again.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  “And I will return to you soon as I can. Believe me, I shall not leave you alone. I will keep you safe, whatever happens.”

  “Thank you, Mr Winchester. I shall never be able to tell you how grateful I am.”

  He smiled at her before turning to leave. As he slowly walked along the corridors of Lytton Hall, Daniel wondered how on earth he would ever extricate himself from that place.

  Chapter 15

  The following day when Daniel could find no sign of her in the morning room, he began to fear the worst. If only he had not let her stay there, but what else could he have done?

  When he had returned to Eliza after his search for the Duke, she was her old self again, composed, dignified, and self-contained. There was no hint of the trembling or the fear, or at least it had been replaced with determination and resolve.

  When he had told her that her husband was passed out cold on one of the couches in the drawing room, she had smiled with relief.

  He had besieged her to pack a bag for the evening so that he might deliver her to either her friend Ariadne or Lady Hanbury, that kind and steadfast woman who seemed to have taken a great interest in the young Duchess.

  He would even have taken her to his own home, although he knew that such a foolish act would help nobody, least of all Eliza.

  But she had been adamant that she would not go. Now that her husband was in a dead sleep, she had somehow convinced herself that everything would be well when he awoke. Daniel could not believe the same himself and urged her to reconsider.

  But Eliza had told him that if the Duke made his way to his chamber later that night and she was not there, it might very well excite his anger once again. She would try to behave as normal, to say nothing, then perhaps he might calm down and be contrite, just as he had been prior to her antagonizing him.

  There was nothing that Daniel could do to convince her otherwise, and it was clear to him that she had made up her mind in the time he had been gone from the room.