by Regina Darcy
“Congratulations Your Grace, the money and Miss Danford are all yours,” the Earl said with an angry nod. Before their matters could be concluded and the crowd dispersed, there was a large gasp from a masqued lady who had venture into the room, despite how inappropriate that was. Douglas recognised her immediately. It was his unknown hellion.
Stephen Danford, who had been standing by, watching all the events unfold as if stunned by a sleeping bee, looked up. At the sight of the woman, he paled.
“I’m sorry Ettie, I don’t know what got into me,” he said pleadingly to the young woman. Hesitantly he stretched out his hand. The masqued woman recoiled. Her hand covered her mouth as her lips trembled. Sobbing she turned and ran out of the room.
It was in that moment it dawned on Stephen what he had done. Not only had he lost his sister in a card game, but by outing her at this event, he had tarnished her reputation.
“Fool,” Douglas barked before he rose and strode after Georgette Danford.
CHAPTER 5
Georgette dashed as fast as she could through the great ballroom, certain every gaze was on her.
What could have possibly possessed Stephen to gamble away her future! Gamble away her virtue! Truly in England a woman was naught but cattle to be disposed of at the whim of men. I am ruined. At the thought she sobbed harder.
Before she knew it she found herself half way down the manor driveway. She stopped dead in her tracks and looked around. What in heaven’s name was she doing? The driveway was at least a 5 minute carriage ride, just to get to the entrance. As the sun had set, the tree-lined country road looked ominous. Why had she not had the common sense to get their carriage? Stephen could easily have procured a ride back or walked, for all she cared.
Just when she was about to give up and turn around, she saw a carriage approaching. It stopped just in front of her. When the carriage door opened she was oddly relieved to see it was the Duke of Staffordshire. That was, until she remembered that he had won her in a game of cards.
“Get into the carriage Miss. Danford,” he ordered her impatiently. “You are making a spectacle of yourself.”
Georgette looked about her trying to find an escape from her predicament. When no new ideas emerged she took a deep breath and grabbed hold of the Duke’s extended arm. Safely hidden away in the carriage she began to hope that the night would not turn out as scandalously as she had assumed. She looked at her saviour.
Douglas Montgomery spared her not even a curtsey gaze. His eyes firmly on the dark landscape outside. During the entire carriage ride, neither spoke a word. This was not due to a lack of words on Georgette’s part, but due to the uninviting carriage of the gentleman in question. It was clear he wished for her to be silent. It seemed like a lifetime, but finally they arrived at their destination. Georgette could not keep silent for one more moment.
“Might I enquire as to where we are?” she asked.
“At my rented lodging for the summer, Netherfield Manor.”
Georgette was lost for words. Netherfield Manor was a grand sprawling estate. The yearly upkeep cost a small fortune. Actually, it probably cost the entire fortune her brother had just squandered away.
“I would request politely, that you ask the groomsman to drive me home, Your Grace,” she whispered.
“There will be enough time for this tomorrow. Right now I am tired and inconvenienced by this entire matter,” Douglas answered, sounding none too pleased.
“You will have to endure my hospitality until the morrow. Now please descend the carriage.”
She thought about refusing, then she realised the futility of it. By tomorrow morning the Duke of Staffordshire would be recognised as her legal guardian. It would be within his powers to do what he wished with her, including putting her out on the street penniless. Silently she followed him into the manor.
“Mrs Hendricks, please see to it that a chamber is prepared for Miss Danford,” he instructed the elderly housekeeper that had rushed to their attention.
Georgette’s heart started pounding, what did he mean by this?
“Do not worry little robin. You need not fear my attentions. Had I known you were such an innocent the first time we met, I would not have been so forward,” he added and then walked away.
Although it was in the middle of the night, Mrs Hendricks was the very epitome of efficiency. She had the maids prepare a room, including a hot bath before Georgette had finished fretting over the events that had taken place at Sheperton Manor. She soon found herself alone in a borrowed nightgown, surrounded by more opulence than she had ever seen. She wondered whose the nightgown had been and if the Duke kept a closet full for all his mistresses. That is none of my business, she admonished herself.
Two hours later and she was still unable to sleep. Taking her courage in her hands, she decided to find the library. Surely, reading the musings of Lord Byron would both soothe her soul and induce slumber.
After several wrong turns she finally found it. Eager to have a look at the treasure trove of books the library surely held, she failed to notice that there was already someone in the room.
“Miss Danford. We seem to have the misfortune of constantly bumping into each other in the reading room,” the Duke’s dry voice said. Startled, she turned around to find the very man who had been haunting her thoughts for the last couple of hours sitting in front of a fireplace further into the chamber.
“I am sorry Your Grace, I was just looking for a book to aid my sleep” she stuttered.
“And whom, pray tell, is boring enough to put you to sleep.”
“I would not say that Lord Byron is boring but there are some passages of his work that could try a saint.”
At her witty response, Douglas laughed out loud.
“I guess that is accurate, let me get it for you, my little robin.”
It was only when he rose and put the whiskey down on the side table that she realised he must have been drinking steadily ever since their return. Despite this, he moved with a grace that few men had even sober.
When he turned around to give her the book, she could not help but voice what was on her mind.
“Thank you.”
“For what exactly?” he replied with a raised eyebrow.
Impulsively forgetting all sense of propriety, Georgette lay her hand on his in a spontaneous gesture of gratitude. “For saving me.” She looked at her feet and then added shyly, “I can only imagine what intentions the Earl of Chesterton would have had with regards to my person,” she continued with a shiver.
“But you are so very wrong to thank me little robin. The Earl and I are very much alike.”
It was as if the world went dangerously quiet around them. Her mouth suddenly dry, Georgette slowly lifted her gaze until it met his and locked. She knew what was to follow, but somehow her body did not seem to want to give the appropriate response. Before she could take another breath, his lips were on hers. The world melted away to nothing and all she could think of was; since this was her very first kiss, she was ever so grateful that it was above and beyond what she expected.
As he finally did what he had longed for since the very first moment he had set eyes on her, the Duke of Staffordshire was perilously close to losing control. What should have brought his delightful dilemma to an end was the sound of footsteps – Jenkins, the butler and Mrs Hendricks the housekeeper – advancing down the corridor to the reading-room doors. Unfortunately, both were too far gone to notice anything happening around them.
The two servants walked in, paled, stuttered and shuffled hurriedly out of the room.
Douglas and Georgette both recoiled from each other, looks of horror on their faces. Their breaths laboured as they stared at each other. Servants were notorious gossips, there was no way to stop the coming scandal. Douglas clenched his fists. Georgette was sure to be shunned from all polite society.
Confused by the turn of events and still reeling from her very first kiss, Georgette wanted to throw herself on the settee and cry her eyes
out. But she would not. It was her very inability to control her strong emotions that had led to these unfortunate circumstances. What had she been thinking?
“I..I…,” Georgette did not know what to say.
“Yes, your reputation is completely compromised,” Douglas sighed. With the taste of her innocence still on his lips, he tore his gaze away and walked to the bureau. In the ensuing silence he poured himself a drink. “This is my punishment for propositioning an innocent,” he muttered.
“I am sorry, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. You are under no obligation to provide me the protection of your name,” Georgette said, trying to sound brave.
“Thank you,” Douglas replied, sounding suitably surly. “But my honour says otherwise.” Before she could get another word in, he turned away from her. “Go to bed. Tomorrow I will arrange our wedding.”
“But, but—”
“This isn’t a debate,” he replied as he sat down in the chair and went back to nursing his drink.
Confused at why she felt so teary-eyed at the prospect of becoming a duchess, Georgette turned around, lifted her skirt and dashed out of the room. By the time she got to her sleeping chamber she was sobbing. How she wished he felt something, anything for her, besides the weight of duty. She had always known she had to marry well. But deep down inside she had kept a sliver of hope that although not a love match, there was every possibility that love would come. But what love could be had, by a man who loved but himself and the pursuit of the pleasures of the flesh? Never had she imagined she would enter into such a soulless, heartless marriage. When she reached her bedroom, she threw herself on the bed and cried herself to sleep.
In the library, despite the whiskey he was drinking, the delicious taste of the future duchess was the only thing on Douglas’s mind.
The Duke of Hazard had not yet decided if this game of hearts had gone in his favour. He knew one thing for certain though. His bride was like the most addictive ambrosia. He took another sip of his drink. Yes, it was clear that his obsession with Miss Georgette Danford was the kind that could last a lifetime.
CHAPTER 6
1 Week Later
London, Mayfair
“Monty, surely you are not going ahead with this?” Nathaniel Hughes exclaimed, exasperated. If he had thought it of any use, he would have knocked some sense into his friend. “Yes, the young woman was disgraced, but you are not obliged to marry her,” he continued.
“My word is my bond Hughes, without it I am nothing and I gave my word.”
“She has no dowry to speak of and no connections. This match is ill-conceived. You know full well that your mother, the Dowager, expects you to be tying the knot with Lady Catherine.”
“I have made no promises to Lady Catherine,” Douglas replied, but of all who would feel the brunt of his decision, it was Lady Catherine’s situation he regretted the most. The gossip was very likely to be brutal.
“While no promises have been made, I am sure the young lady will come calling,” Nathaniel muttered. Before he could continue trying to dissuade his friend, the butler came to announce a visitor.
“The Dowager Duchess of Staffordshire.”
Douglas groaned. This was the last thing he needed, a visit from his mother. Truth be told, every visit from his mother was unwanted. It had been that way ever since he was 13 years old.
His mother sailed into the room, looking as flawless as she always did.
“Lord Wiltshire, how marvellous you look,” she cooed.
“Duchess. It is always a pleasure to be in your company,” Nathaniel replied, with a charming smile, as he kissed her hand.
She turned to her son and her smile faltered a little. She continued sailing into the room and offered him her hand. He kissed it as duty demanded.
“Douglas,” she said with a nod.
“Ma’am,” he replied in an icy tone.
“I understand you are to marry shortly,” she commented as she elegantly sat down in the cameo back sofa.
“You have heard correctly. I believe you received the invitation.”
“Yes. I can but imagine what you had to promise the Archbishop to have him expedite this happy event.”
“I have my ways, mother,” Douglas responded.
“I had assumed that Lady Catherine was a contender for your affections,” the Dowager continued, as if she hadn’t heard him.
“You would have assumed incorrectly. You more so than anyone else should know that affections have nothing to do with marriage,” he snapped. Nathaniel cleared his throat at this unseemly display of emotions and excused himself from the room.
The dowager took a deep irritated breath. “Douglas, don’t tell me you are doing this in a futile effort to get back at me,” she exclaimed.
“I am not quite that childish,” he replied.
“It has been 15 years, when are you going to forgive me?” she asked, her green eye brimming with unshed tears.
“I am not the one you should have asked forgiveness from.”
“My marriage to your father was never any of your concern, you were not privy to all that happened,” she retorted.
“No, I wasn’t. But I was privy to seeing you and your lover,” he slung back mercilessly.
“How many more years are you going to hold this over my head? When will you stop dishing out this punishment?”
“Please tell me this is a love match,” she said pleadingly.
“You wish to assuage your conscious? You will have to look for that relief elsewhere.”
“If you do not want a marriage such as that of mine and your father’s, then you need to marry for love and not for convenience.” The Dowager stared at her son’s uncompromising back. Yet again she had failed to reach her son. How she regretted that day in the drawing room. One stolen kiss and she had lost her son. More than anything else though, she regretted his attitude to women. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she closed her fan and rose. There was no more to be done here.
It was at this precise moment that Georgette walked into the room. She had only heard a partial section of the conversation, but it had been enough. She did not want to be part of coming between a mother and her son.
“Your Grace, Duchess,” she said in greeting and curtsied. Her future mother-in-law spared her only a glance before nodding in her direction and sailing out the door.
Georgette watched her retreating back and then turned to Douglas. She knew what she was about to say would not be well received.
“I beg your pardon, but I can not marry you Your Grace,” she proclaimed in a firm voice.
“Is that so?” Douglas said, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes. The friction this is causing within your family and the differences in our station, make this match impossible,” she exclaimed, looking at him besieging.
“Am I not your legal guardian?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Is it not within my power to marry you to whomever I see fit?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then I chose myself.”
What about love? She knew now he did not hold her in his affections. He also had no belief in her fidelity after the wedding. How could this marriage arrangement ever work?
“Why so bleak, little robin? Today is your wedding day. Now go get ready.” With those final words he dismissed her.
Georgette felt completely lost. As the handmaid helped her prepare for the biggest day of her life, she had never felt lonelier. She was about to be tied forever to a man who did not believe in love and she had no-one to share her apprehensions and worry with. Worse still, ever since the scandalous night at Lady Archer’s, she had seen neither hair nor hide of her brother. He had not come to beg her forgiveness or enquire on her health. That betrayal hurt more than anything else. He was her twin and her only living relative. All day her loneliness churned within her.
When she found herself in front of London’s most esteemed families in the process of saying her wedding vows
, it all felt like a dream.
“Your Grace, David Montgomery, Duke of Staffordshire, do you take this woman, Miss Georgette Anne Danford to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?
“I will.”
The reverend turned to Georgette.
“Will thou, Georgette Anne Danford, have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
Georgette heard the words and knew what her answer was supposed to be, but she could not bring herself to say it. Instead her eyes lingered on the congregation, desperately looking for one friendly face. Just as her silence was beginning to get uncomfortable she saw him, Stephen, standing at the back of the church. Their gaze locked and in that moment she forgave him for everything. He had not forsaken her. She exhaled the breath she didn’t even know she had been holding. She could finally get married. She turned her smiling face back towards her bewildered husband-to-be and the minister and gave her reply.
“I will.”
“Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder,” the reverend continued. “I join thee in holy matrimony, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.”
CHAPTER 7
Georgette Montgomery, the Duchess of Staffordshire, woke up with a start. Confused, she lay in her bed trying to orientate herself. Then it all came back to her. She was wed. In front of God and the ton. Truly wed. But a virgin still.
At the thought, she bit her lower lip and wrapped her arms around herself for comfort. She had been prepared to honour her wedding vows but Douglas had not seen fit to visit her chambers. Due to the hasty nature of their courtship and wedding, she did not know if she was sad or relieved.
