Love Stories of Enchanting Ladies: A Historical Regency Romance Collection

by Bridget Barton

  The Duke smiled, a slow blush of colour extending from his neck to his face. “Your Grace, ah, I would like to ask you a question of the utmost importance.”

  “Yes?”

  “I would like to ask Miss McGowan to become my wife.”

  “Why, Cousin! That is lovely news, indeed.” Phoebe hugged the Duke.

  “Yes. I don’t know who I’m to ask for her hand.”

  “She is a free woman, Your Grace. But, I’m sure Duke Atwater would be happy to give you his blessing if that’s what you’d like. He’s in the library alone now. The Radcliffes went home.”

  “Oh thank you, Your Grace. Thank you.”

  “La! Go and speak to him, Your Grace. I’ll sit with Olivia until you come back.”

  *******

  Two days later, Lord Thomas Radcliffe and Lady Radcliffe arrived at Regent Street.

  The drawing room was festooned with flowers, and a lavish dinner was being set up in the dining room. The house was awash in delicious aromas emanating from the kitchen. It was ten o’clock. The nuptials were scheduled for ten thirty.

  “However were they allowed to bring this all together so quickly?” Tom mused.

  “The Duke procured a Bishop’s license for twelve shillings, love. And Mrs Crabtree, Terence, Abigail, Sally, and my own Susan have worked tirelessly for two days.” Mary smiled. “Mrs Crabtree said it reminded her of the old days when the old Duke and Duchess entertained often. She loves the challenge of having it all ready in a few days. La! Now, if you excuse me, I’ll go upstairs to see how the bride is weathering all the excitement.”

  Mary went upstairs to the third floor. She knocked at the partially open door. Phoebe and her maid, Abigail, were putting the finishing touches on the bride. They’d curled her hair and dressed her in Phoebe’s wedding frock that Abigail had fixed to look like an entirely different dress. Olivia looked beautiful.

  “And to think. You will be a Duchess now, Olivia. How does it feel?” Mary entered the room and kissed the girl on the cheek.

  “Ah, Your Grace. Abigail. Might I have a moment alone with Lady Mary?”

  “Yes, of course, dear. We’ll be just outside. But do hurry, the ceremony is in twenty minutes.”

  “What is it, Olivia?” Mary asked after the others were gone from the room.

  “It is an apology, Lady Mary. I told you once, that you couldn’t be raised up. I said awful things because I was jealous that a man, although a commoner, would raise you up to the gentry.”

  “That is all behind us, Olivia. We all know and understand what Charlotte put you through. The empty promises, the threats. We know the truth. And after this moment, we will never speak of it again. I shall be calling you by your new title of Your Grace.”

  Olivia fell into a chair. “That’s just it, Lady Mary. I will be in Scotland. I have worked there in the past. It is only a matter of time before I am called out for having been a maid.”

  “Olivia, people will talk. The certainty of this is as certain as the sun rising in the morning and setting at night. You must hold your head high. You must ignore the gossip. It is fun to be a lady, Olivia. And not so very hard. It’s like looking in the looking glass from the other side. The image is clear yet altered from what it appeared to be. Also, Scotland is a little more forgiving. You’ll be in Edinburgh and in the highlands. It will be grand. There is nothing to worry about. You look like a lady. That’s half the battle. Now, come. Let us go with Abigail and Phoebe to wait at the top of the step for the music to begin. My Susan is to play the pianoforte for your descent on the stairs.”

  *******

  A few hours later, everyone was enjoying the music. For the dancing, musicians had been employed. Carlisle and Olivia appeared as if in their own cocoon of love.

  Atwater turned to his own wife. “May I have this dance, my love?”

  “You may, Your Grace.” She bowed her head then took her husband’s proffered hand to be led to the dance floor.

  They danced past Tom and Mary; they danced around the newly married couple, and then they took seats along the perimeter of the dancing. Phoebe was a little winded, and Atwater went to get her some lemonade.

  Phoebe knew that almost every guest at the house was sizing up Olivia to see if she had what it took to be a Duchess.

  Phoebe thought wryly that if a woman could find wrong in any situation and blurt out her opinions about said wrong to anyone who might listen, then that woman had what it took.

  The gossip bored Phoebe. She looked forward to going back to Hempstead Hall for the summer the following day. The Duke would be taking his new Duchess to Scotland, and Phoebe looked forward to the relaxation, fresh air, and open space of the country.

  “Ah. There you are, my darling.”

  “Hello husband.”

  “You look a vision sitting here. Like a flower among lush foliage.”

  “Your Grace! You’re too kind.” Phoebe always enjoyed these little games with her husband.

  “May I join you, Your Grace?” Atwater sat in the chair next to Phoebe’s and took her hand. “We are very lucky, are we not, my love?”

  “Yes, we are. May I tell you something regarding our blessings, Robert?”

  “Oh yes. Why you were going to tell me the other night, then Carlisle showed up and then that vile Bruce person.” Atwater chuckled. “What is it, love? Are you well? Is everything to your liking here on Regent Street?”

  “Yes.” Phoebe’s laughter tinkled delightfully in his ears. “Everything is so wonderful. And I didn’t believe I could be any happier. Until last week.”

  “Last week? What happened last week to cause your happiness to expand, my love. I like seeing you like this. I will do whatever it takes to keep you perpetually happy.” He took her hand in his.

  “You will, will you? Well, then it’s lucky we’re married, Your Grace.”

  “I feel like the luckiest, happiest man in England. Nothing could change it.”

  “The news I have may change it.”

  Suddenly serious, Atwater frowned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing at all is wrong. In fact, Your Grace, everything is right.” She smiled and brought his hand towards her body. She looked at him deeply and placed his hand on her belly.

  For a moment he just sat there. Lost in his wife’s eyes. Then realization slowly began to dawn on him.

  “Phoebe?”

  She nodded, smiling. “Yes, Your Grace. I am going to have a baby.”

  Chapter 25

  The next morning, the Atwaters saw the Carlisles off. Before she stepped into the carriage, Olivia turned to Phoebe.

  “Your Grace. I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

  “It is I who owe you thanks, Olivia. I feel sure that Bruce Wallace would have killed me if it hadn’t been for you, and for that I am very grateful.”

  Carlisle stepped up to Phoebe next. “Thank you, Your Grace,” he said as he held her to him. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

  “But for my husband, you are the only family I have, Your Grace,” Phoebe said with tears in her eyes.

  The new Duke and Duchess boarded their carriage and headed off to Scotland. The guests went home. Mary and Tom went to the family sitting room inside for a few games of whist.

  *******

  Abigail sat at the long table in the servants’ hall with a glass of wine. The Atwaters had given some bottles to the staff to enjoy after the wedding party. It had been a long, albeit, lovely day, and Abby was exhausted. She glanced up from her knitting as Terence entered the hall.

  “Miss Abby. You’re feeling better, I trust.”

  “Oh yes. With all that happens in this house, it’s nearly impossible to remember what happens from one day to the next,” she smiled. “And you, Mr Sheridan? How have you been?”

  “I must say that I’m looking forward to the country, Abby. Hempstead Hall is a grand manor house, but it’s also away from all the hubbub of the city and the prying eyes of the ton.”r />
  “I understand. This is to be my first summer at Hempstead. I’m very much looking forward to it.”

  “I’m happy you’ve come into the house, Abby. Mrs Cavendish speaks very highly of you. She says you’ve always been a lady’s maid, and for your age, you have quite the sparkling reputation.”

  Abby smiled. “She said that did she?”

  “She did.”

  “Well, I adore it here. Her Grace is a most pleasant employer. She’s a joy to assist. She allows me to experiment with new hairdos. She gave me my own curl iron so I may practice and do her hair in all the latest chignons.”

  “Did you curl your hair today, Miss Abby? It looks lovely.”

  “Thank you, Mr Sheridan,” Abby smiled again.

  “Please. Call me Terence.”

  “Of course. Terence.” She put her eyes back on her work and attempted to still the jumping that her stomach was indulging in.

  *******

  Two days later, the Atwater household made its move to Hempstead Hall.

  Phoebe was happy that her baby would be born there, and as soon as they’d arrived and everyone had eaten dinner, she rang for Mrs Crabtree and Abby to come to her private sitting room on the second floor.

  “You rang, Your Grace?” The two women entered the sitting room.

  “I did. And I’d like you both to sit down, please. I realize there is much to do because you were unable to come out early to open the house. But this won’t take too long, and I hope you will enjoy this news as much as I will enjoy sharing it.”

  “Your Grace! You are with child! I knew it. I could tell by your glow. How wonderful.” Mrs Crabtree burst into tears and reached into her sleeve for a handkerchief.

  Abby sat dumbfounded. “Is it true, Your Grace? What happy news.”

  “Yes. Yes it is. My baby will be joining us sometime in October.” Phoebe laughed.

  Mrs Crabtree and Abby stood and went to their mistress to give her a congratulatory kiss on the cheek.

  “Your Grace, I will begin now with my herbal preparations to help your little one to grow. I have a tonic already made up that you will take each day. I keep it on hand, Your Grace. Here and there I sell my herbal potions and make a little side money.”

  “Then I shall pay you for it, Mrs Crabtree.” Phoebe smiled.

  “Oh no, Your Grace. That is not necessary. Please accept it as my gift. But please make sure to take a good half wine glass of it per day. Once in the morning and once before bed.”

  “I will see to it, Mrs Crabtree,” Abby supplied. “And, Your Grace, this might be a wonderful time for you to start with your Spanish lessons. Would you like that? You can teach your baby as well. It never hurt anyone to have two languages, or more, under their belt!”

  Phoebe’s laughter chimed into the hallway where Mary was making her way to the sitting room.

  “La! What is this, a little afternoon soiree?”

  “Mary! Come, sit with us. I’ve just shared some news with the ladies here. When did you arrive at Hempstead?”

  “Late last night; I came around as soon as I was able. Now, what is going on?” Mary’s eyes went from Mrs Crabtree to Abby then back to Phoebe. “You’re with child, aren’t you, Phoebe, ah Your Grace.”

  The other three laughed and clapped their hands.

  “How absolutely wonderful, and when …”

  “October, My Lady,” Abby blurted out.

  “Well then, we have the entire summer to prepare. Such grand news, I believe, Your Grace, that we should have a toast.”

  Phoebe’s laughter heartily increased. “Since my husband is not present, you will do the honours, Mary? Is that what you’re suggesting?”

  “I am.” Mary rose and went to the sideboard. She poured ratafia into four tiny port wine glasses and placed them on a tray. Some ways of doing things are never forgotten. She brought the tray to the table.

  Each took a glass and raised it. “To Duchess Atwater, Duke Atwater, and their new little one about to appear in October. Hear, hear.”

  “Hear, hear!”

  Chapter 26

  Atwater paced back and forth in the library. Phoebe had been fighting birthing pangs for a long time. He’d gotten back from riding yesterday afternoon and been told the labour had begun. He had gone in to see his wife, and then had been shooed away by the other women. It was now suppertime on the second day. His wife had been struggling for over twenty-four hours.

  Tom came to the door of the room. “Your Grace. I came as soon as I was informed. How is she?”

  “Oh I don’t know. The women sent me away. If you ask me, it’s taking too long, Tom.”

  “Now don’t go getting yourself all flustered. Why don’t we go for a ride? It will take some of this angst away from you. She’s going to be fine, Robert.” Tom sounded confident, but even he knew that the longer it took a baby to be born, the worse things were. Exhaustion, haemorrhage, infection. He shook his head to clear it. “Come, Your Grace.” Tom led him down the back stairs and out to the mews.

  Jimmy ran out of the stable and bowed awkwardly. “Will you be riding Roy, Your Grace? He’s ready to go. Lord Thomas, which pony would you like?”

  “Whoever you think, Jimmy. Is Dan around?”

  “No, Lord Thomas. This is Dan’s half day. He finished his chores early and went over to Rosemont. He said he needed to get an answer to something he’d asked the housekeeper just before we all went back to London for the season.”

  “Hmm. No mystery there.” Tom chuckled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, Robert, you’re distracted. Clearly, he’s asked the lady to marry him. What will you do when Dan leaves to go to Rosemont? I daresay Jimmy’s up to the task. He’s young, yet, but I think he’s ready. What say you?”

  “Dan is leaving? Tom, has he told you this?”

  “No, Your Grace. I’m surmising. But Rosemont is not that far away. Dan can live with his wife and come here to work. The fair lady, I’m afraid must stay at Rosemont. She is the housekeeper after all.”

  Atwater nodded absentmindedly. “What is taking so long with this labour, Tom?”

  “Your Grace, you must be patient. The little one is taking his time.”

  “It’s a boy, Tom? Have you had a vision? Or have you heard a voice?”

  “I haven’t. In fact, I don’t know why I said that. So, come now. Let us have a ride. It will take your mind off things.”

  “You’re right, Tom.”

  They went into the stable. Jimmy let Roy out to Atwater, and he gave Blackie, Atwater’s newest Irish horse, to Tom. They were mounted and just about to the wilderness of the garden in the back when Abby came running and waving from the house.

  “Your Grace. Come. Hurry.”

  Atwater and Tom looked at each other and then dismounted. They handed the reins to Jimmy and ran for the back door.

  “What is it, Abby? Is everything well?” The colour had left Atwater’s face. He took the stairs two at a time and burst into Phoebe’s chamber from the corridor between his and hers.