She gave the hateful letter to her father, who read it, then glared at her. Sophia cringed as though she had done something terribly wrong and deserved his anger.
“Do you not see how these two pieces of writing negate one another?” he demanded. “One says the Duke will marry you for your name and wealth, thus keeping Lady Alicia as his mistress. The second says he plans to wed Lady Alicia.”
“That is impossible,” her Mother stated firmly. “Lady Alicia is far too well bred to consent to be a gentleman’s plaything. It is also well known through the reading of the banns that Lord Montrose is marrying her.”
Her head was spinning from not just her out of control emotions, but also the logical thinking of both her parents. Sitting still, staring at her half-finished breakfast with her stomach in knots, she tried to examine everything she knew with the same calm detachment.
“If everything you both say is true,” Sophia said slowly. “Then someone is actively campaigning to keep His Grace and I apart.”
“Who would do such a scandalous and horrible thing?” her Mother demanded.
“I would expect our first suspect would be the Dowager Duchess of Bersard,” the Duke replied. “However, I cannot entirely be certain, as she would need the aid of the Countess of Swinton. I do not see the two conspiring for this end. One, perhaps, but two? That is an unreasonable thing to surmise.”
Sophia felt she had to agree. “If not the Dowager Duchess, Papa, then whom?”
“I cannot answer that at this time, daughter,” he answered, then took a sip of his tea. “I can, however, inform you that the personage I spoke to has agreed to speak with you. He will arrive in,” he paused to peer at his watch, “in a little more than an hour. You may speak with him without my presence to ensure I am not attempting influence you, but you must have a chaperone.”
“I will attend Sophia in that capacity,” her Mother said, offering Sophia a small smile. “Is that acceptable to you, Sophia?”
“Yes, of course, Mama,” Sophia replied. “I feel terribly torn over all this, still not quite certain what to believe and what not to.”
“I do hope this neutral party will aid in calming your fears over the Duke’s reputation and name,” her father said. “His word is not to be taken lightly, for he is a personage of considerable influence.”
“I will listen to him, Papa.”
Torn between wishing she could talk to Wesley, and terrified of doing so, Sophia gazed down at her plate. “Until I can sort out my feelings, and discover the truth of the matter, I do not want to see him, should he come to call.”
Her father shook his head. “I deem that unwise, Sophia. I think that unless you were to hear what he has to say from his own mouth, you will continue to believe the false statements.”
“And if I cannot fully trust what comes from his mouth, Papa?” she asked, hating herself for even contemplating that Wesley would lie to her face.
The Duke gazed at her, his eyes filled with sorrow. “Then there is no hope for your future happiness with him.”
Though he did not reveal her visitor’s name, her father cautioned her to garb herself in her finest gown. “He is a very important gentleman,” he had said, “and you must receive him as such.”
Thus, after breakfast, Sophia returned to her chambers to change into more formal attire, unable to cease wondering why such an important person would deign to come to her house just to ease her mind about Wesley.
Seated in the drawing room with her Mother, Sophia tried to quash her nervousness about the appointment, which would occur within the next few minutes. If her mother was also nervous, she did not show it. She sat as still as a stone, her eyes on the door, her expression serene.
At last Williams opened the door and stood to the side. “His Grace, the Duke of Buckstone, Lord Chancellor of England and Scotland.”
Sophia thought she would faint as the most powerful gentleman in the realm, outside of the Prince Regent, walked into the drawing room. Hastily, she stood to drop into a deep curtsey, as did her mother. She trembled in her fear and awe of such an exalted personage arriving to soothe her concerns over Wesley’s integrity.
“Greetings,” the Lord Chancellor said in a friendly fashion. “How delightful to meet the lovely wife and daughter of my dear friend, Wellingson.”
“Would Your Grace care for tea?” the Duchess inquired politely while Sophia’s tongue stuck to the roof of her dry mouth.
“No, thank you, Your Grace,” he replied with a warm smile. “I have other engagements, but, if I may, I will take you up on your kind offer at a later date.”
His kind blue eyes gazed at Sophia. “Your father has asked me to speak with you, Lady Sophia,” he said. “And ease your mind on certain matters. You may ask me your questions.”
Sophia swallowed hard, but felt encouraged by his smile and kindly manner. “Yes, Your Grace,” she said, tentative. “I have heard rumors that His Grace, the Duke of Bersard, my fiancé, is not the gentleman of high integrity and honor I believed him to be.”
“Before I answer that,” the Lord Chancellor said, “May I ask what the rumors contained?”
Her heart thudding in her chest, Sophia replied, “That he dangles multiple mistresses and will most certainly keep others on the side even after we are married.”
The Lord Chancellor’s smile faded. “That is indeed a serious charge. However, I will tell you this. His father, may he rest in peace, was not just my friend, but was one of the most respectable and honorable gentlemen I have ever known. I will confess I have not met the current Duke, your fiancé, I will also tell you his reputation is of the highest quality.”
“You, you have not heard scandalous rumors of him dallying with women of ill repute, Your Grace?”
“I have not,” the Lord Chancellor replied evenly. “As I am in a position to carefully scrutinize the honor and reputations of those who help make the laws in our kingdom, I believe I would have heard if he has any scandals attached to his name. In fact, what I have heard of him is quite remarkable. The Duke of Bersard has impressed those in the House of Lords who have many years more experience than he. His ideas are well thought out, aligned with the current monarchy, his loyalty to the crown unmistakable.”
Her relief at his words made her knees wobble, but Sophia dared not show it on her face. “I thank you, Your Grace, for you have eased my mind considerably.”
The Lord Chancellor smiled again. “I am eager to meet your fiancé, Lady Sophia, as I do believe he is a gentleman who will help steer our nation into a course of honor and prosperity. Have no doubt, the Duke of Bersard is a most worthy gentleman to marry.”
He glanced at his pocket watch. “Now I must take my leave of you ladies. Rest assured, I hope for an invitation to your wedding, Lady Sophia.”
Sophia dipped her knee again, unable to halt her smile this time. “I would be honored to have you attend, Your Grace.”
“Good-bye for now.”
When the Lord Chancellor had departed, Sophia felt so weak she almost fell into an armchair. “The Lord Chancellor himself,” she whispered. “I almost do not believe it.”
“Now are you satisfied as to the Duke’s honor and integrity, Sophia?” her mother asked, also sitting down.
“Yes, Mama,” Sophia replied, her emotions whirling wildly. “I simply cannot understand who would want to break us apart in this fashion? Who hates me so much that they would go to such lengths to halt my marriage to him?”
“Sophia.” Her mother gazed at her evenly. “Just who told you these terrible things about His Grace?”
“The Dowager Duchess,” Sophia replied. “His own mother.”
Lea stared at the fire dancing on the hearth. “I should be surprised at this,” she murmured. “Oddly, I am not. Do not tell anyone else of this, Sophia. At least for now.”
“I will not, Mama,” Sophia answered. “Should I not tell His Grace?”
“I advise you to wait before talking to him about the lies his mo
ther is spreading about him. If she told you this nonsense, she may have told others.”
“What do I do about the notice in the paper?”
The Duchess gazed back at her with a small smile. “Your father has already gone to the paper to renounce it.”
“Oh.”
“If it is proven that the Dowager Duchess was behind the announcement,” her mother went on, “the scandal will be enormous.”
“And if it cannot be proven she did it?”
The Duchess shrugged. “One step at a time, my dear. Now I would advise you to speak with the Duke and assure him that you believe in him. I have little doubt this fracas is tearing him apart.”
Guilt tore at Sophia. “Yes, Mama. I have treated him shamelessly.”
“While I do not agree with that statement,” she replied firmly, “as how could you not entertain worries about his fidelity when you have almost insurmountable evidence that he is a scoundrel. No, you have not treated him badly, but I do believe you should make amends as soon as you can.”
“I will, Mama,” Sophia promised. “I will agree to see him when he pays a call, but I cannot abide going to his residence. Her Grace’s despicable behavior will make me ill should I encounter her again.”
“I cannot blame you on that score.” The Duchess smiled. “I must say I am very proud of you, Sophia. You have handled this debacle in an honorable and proper fashion.”
Sophia stared at her hands. “I do not feel as though I have, Mama. I should have listened to Wesley when he came to explain.”
“I would rather you stayed away from him until you set your mind at ease,” the Duchess commented. “Rather than have your excess emotions spill out and you say the unthinkable.”
“Such as call off the engagement?” Sophia grinned.
“Exactly. Now I wish to lie down, dear. I will go to my chambers.”
After her mother left the drawing room, Sophia asked the footman for hot soothing tea. Gazing at the fire, she realized that though she now knew who her enemy was, she did not know the reason behind the machinations of the Dowager Duchess.
Nor can I stop her. She will do something nefarious again, and who will be hurt by it? Me? Wesley? Both of us?
Chapter 28
After making the decision to confront the newspaper about the horrible inaccuracy of its marriage notice, Wesley rode to its tiny office. Once again, the weather had cooperated, and while the brisk wind was still cold, at least it was not raining.
As he approached the office, Wesley observed a carriage out front and, as he drew closer, he recognized the emblem of the Duke of Wellingson. “What interesting fortune.” His spirits rising, he quickened his horse’s pace.
Dismounting, Wesley tied his horse in front of the office, then strode rapidly inside. The place was small, cramped, and scented of ink and pulp paper. His entrance interrupted the Duke of Wellingson as he spoke to a man garbed in the homespun cloth of a commoner. Wellingson, his expression tight with anger, offered Wesley a small smile.
“I am so glad you arrived, Bersard,” he said. “I trust you have come on the same errand, to demand this fool print a retraction of that wretched announcement.”
“Why, yes. Indeed, I have.”
Wesley stepped up to Wellingson’s side, and gazed at the clerk. “Who informed you that I, the Duke of Bersard, was to marry the daughter of the Earl of Swinton?”
The man cringed under the fury of two Dukes. “As I explained to His Grace, Your Grace, that I received the notice to print, with the proper payment. But as it was delivered anonymously, I do not know who actually sent it.”
Wesley exchanged a glance with Wellingson. “Then how about you make amends, my good man. You will write in the next edition that you were given false information. You will write the announcement that I am not, after all, marrying Lady Alicia Keaton, but that I am marrying Lady Sophia Appleton, the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Wellingson.”
“Splendid,” Wellingson exclaimed with a broad smile. “That will do nicely. The notice was written in error. And just when will the corrected announcement be made public?”
“Uh, tomorrow, Your Grace,” the clerk stammered, his face pasty white.
Pulling a few coins from his pocket, Wesley set them on the counter. “That should cover your expenses. Now you are clear on what this notice is to say?”
“Y-yes, Your Grace. That the original marriage announcement was in error, and the Duke of Bersard is to marry Lady Sophia, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Wellingson.”
“Very good.” Wesley glanced at Wellingson. “I am pleased that this debacle could be amended easily enough.”
Wellingson gestured for Wesley to accompany him as he headed for the door. “I tell you, Bersard, that ‘mistake’ caused my daughter no small distress.”
“Myself as well,” Wesley replied. “May I pay a call upon her? I would like very much to reassure her of my love and constant devotion.”
Wellingson smiled. “I was hoping you would.”
Riding beside the carriage, Wesley made conversation with Wellingson, and learned about a letter to Sophia maligning him in her eyes. He bit back his anger, as well as a string of vile words, and kept his temper in check.
“I suspected my mother and the Countess of Swinton are behind these attempts to break Lady Sophia and I apart,” he told the other Duke.
“Both of them?” Wellingson’s voice sounded incredulous. “But two high-born ladies skirting outrageous scandal?”
“My mother cannot accomplish this without the Countess’s aid,” Wesley replied. “I do not suspect Lady Alicia of being anything save her mother’s pawn.”
“Both Sophia and Lord Montrose have told me of Montrose’s deep love for Lady Alicia, and she him.”
“Indeed, I saw them at the ball. They are indeed in love, and a well-matched pair.”
Wellingson shook his head. “Then, more than ever, I cannot see Lady Alicia consenting to be your mistress.”
“Nor would I take one,” Wesley answered, his tone dry. “I could never be so hurtful of the lady I love. There is room in my heart and my life for only one lady—Lady Sophia.”
Wellingson smiled. “I look forward to you informing my daughter of that.”
As it turned out, Sophia was indeed very happy to hear his words as well as to see him again. She received him in the drawing room with her lady’s maid as a chaperone, her smile of welcome brighter than the fire blazing on the hearth.
“I am so sorry the events of the last few days have upset you so, my Sophia,” he said. “I never intended for them to happen. Nor would I ever take a mistress, for you are all I need, or will ever need.”
Sophia went to him, and as her chaperone was her faithful Erin, she wrapped her arms around him. Wesley kissed her deeply, lovingly, her slender body against his. Holding her close, his mouth on hers, his thoughts ranged to their upcoming wedding night, and sharing a bed.
“I love you,” Sophia breathed, gazing into his eyes. “I cannot wait for our marriage.”
“Nor can I. To make you mine, to have everything with you, to wake up to your beautiful face in the morning.”
Giggling wickedly, Sophia traced her finger down his cheek to his mouth. “I want you to make the words I read in the books come true in our bed. I certainly want to see what your delectable body looks like without your clothes on.”
Wesley kissed her lightly on her nose with a chuckle. “I, too, crave your body against mine. And I most certainly will make your fantasies a reality. How soon can we be married? We must set a date.”
“It cannot come soon enough. We should consult with my mother as to a date. I know she wishes to invite people from all over the kingdom, so the date must be set far enough in advance that they will attend.”
“Perhaps a month from now?” Wesley suggested, stroking his hand down her neck.
“That might be enough time to plan it.”
Wesley kissed her again, his tongue delving into her mouth
. The erotic sensations of that contact had his loins burning with longing. He briefly contemplated asking her to invite him to her chambers, but knew he could not dishonor her by taking her virginity before their wedding night.
“I want you so badly,” Sophia whispered when they broke apart at last, resting her head on his shoulder.
“As much as I want to,” Wesley murmured, “I cannot share your bed until we are properly wed.”
“Perhaps that is best.” Sophia giggled. “The anticipation will make it so much better.”
Addicted to a Rascal Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 24
