The Artisan and the Duke

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The Artisan and the Duke Page 7

by Abigail Agar


  Jules’ mouth fell open. She spun on the Duke and sneered at the man, “Was this your plan all along? Offer assistance at the price of my virtue? Why not just trade in the streets? Why go through the elaborate hoax?”

  Lady St Claire shook her head. “Young lady, your language is most offensive.” Jules grew quiet at the woman’s voice, and Lady St Claire continued, “The hoax is for everyone’s protection. If word were to get out that this was some seedy deal as you describe it, then we would very well become pariahs, and you might very well lose any chance you have of a viable way to ensure the safety of your family.”

  The Duke tapped the table. “As awful as you may be thinking of me, just know that this betrothal does not have to end at an altar. If we so choose, we can break the betrothal and go our separate ways, but in the meantime, it keeps you protected by the rules of society,” Gregory said to mollify Jules’ flaring pride.

  “Very well,” Jules said softly. “I can see that I have little to no say in this matter. I feel truly a part of feminine society now.”

  Lady St Claire, to Jules’ surprise, gave the young woman a smile.

  ***

  Jules sat in her room. She had a little writing desk to one side, and she sat at the desk contemplating the world outside of her window. The newspapers had carried news of Marcus’ body being found, so apparently the Duke’s tip had worked.

  The longer she stayed inside the gilded world of the St Claire family, the further away from everything before seemed. Jules could almost imagine it as a dream if only her life now did not seem like a nightmare. Even though the Duke had promised to let her out of the betrothal, the man had not stated what would happen to her family if she refused to marry him.

  Why had she ever trusted the nobleman? Even the man’s brother, whom she had thought trustworthy, seemed oblivious to the distress that she was under.

  There was a timid knock on the door before Sherry poked her head in. “Excuse me, Miss,” the maid said with a smile. “I was just coming to bring in fresh water to your room.” The maid paused as she looked at Jules closer. “Is there something the matter?”

  “Pretty much everything,” Jules said dejectedly. She drew herself up and shook her head. “I need to get out of here,” she said with determination. “Do you still have the clothes I arrived in or similar garb that might fit?”

  Sherry nodded. “Oh, yes, Ma’am. I washed them and put them back in your dresser. You’ll find your clothes folded neatly,” Sherry said helpfully before her faced dipped into a worried frown. “You aren’t really leaving, are you?”

  “I just need to,” Jules said then added, “just for a bit. It’ll be our secret, won’t it?”

  Sherry worried her lip with her teeth before she finally nodded. “I suppose, Ma’am,” she said with a voice full of doubt and worry.

  “I’m going to be fine. I just need to clear my head,” Jules said as she stood up.

  Truthfully, at that moment, Jules did not know if she was going to come back or not. Right now, she really needed to see her home again and to know that although the Duke had effectively tricked her into becoming his bride, that she was still herself. There was something important about being her own person, and there were people who needed her.

  There was a knock at the door. Sherry went to the door and pulled it open. The Duke stood on the other side in his finery. Jules wondered how much the evening coat he was wearing had cost. “Forgive me for barging in,” the Duke said apologetically. “I was just coming to remind you of the dance that Lady Lexington is holding this evening.”

  Jules cringed. She had indeed forgotten about the ridiculous engagement. Now she understood the urgency that the Duke had expressed in getting out of the all those dances. “I’m not feeling well,” Jules said softly.

  There was a look of concern that crossed the Duke’s face. It almost made Jules rethink her ruse, but she rallied and kept her face placid. “Should I send for a doctor?” The Duke’s question gave Jules an uncomfortable twinge in her stomach, and she wrapped her arms around herself. “Sherry, go fetch Doctor Shannon.”

  “No,” Jules said frantically. “I’ll be fine. I just need to rest. You should go to your event and relax.”

  The Duke gave Jules an incredulous look. “I do not think that relaxing will happen with you here sick in bed,” the man said.

  “Then don’t go, but I do feel as if I need to lie down,” Jules said as she eased over to the bed. “Just do not go calling doctors on me.”

  Sherry ushered the Duke out the door. “I’ll see that she’s taken care of,” the maid said with sincerity.

  Helplessly, the Duke watched as the bedroom door shut on him. Inside the room, Jules whispered, “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me,” Sherry grumbled. “The Duke is a kind man, and I repay him by lying,” the young woman said with such confliction in her voice that Jules softened.

  Jules reached out and grabbed the young woman’s hand as she came near the bed. “I’m deeply sorry, Sherry. I promise that I won’t involve you in anything else that might damage your morals,” Jules said remorsefully. “I truly meant no harm.”

  “Oh, I know,” Sherry said with a shake of her head. “It’s just cold feet.”

  Jules gave the young woman a questioning look. “You think I just have wedding jitters?”

  “Who wouldn’t?” Sherry said compassionately. “Taking on a Duchess title and helping to represent a noble family like the St Claire family is an overwhelming proposition. I know that His Grace sprang the betrothal on you. It is normal for you to wish to run from that.”

  Jules blinked at the maid. “How do you know all of that?”

  “I listen,” Sherry said. Then she shrugged and said with a wry grin, “And I got married once as well.”

  Jules watched Sherry fill the basin at her vanity and then the woman put some extra pillows behind her head. Jules asked, “You are married?”

  “No,” Sherry said with a shake of her head. “No, he left me and moved to the Americas to search for his fortune. I told everyone he was dead.”

  Jules stared at Sherry for a long moment before she burst out laughing. “Well, he probably is by now,” Jules said laughing.

  Sherry laughed too and replied, “That was my line of thinking. If he ever decides to show back up, then I’ll just faint.”

  Jules shook her head at the young woman. “Sherry, you are a strange girl,” she said with admiration.

  “And so are you, Miss Kelley,” Sherry said with equal affection.

  ***

  “She is ill?” Lady St Claire asked anxiously. “We should get the doctor here to look at her.”

  Gregory shook his head. “She was most adamant that we not call the doctor,” he said firmly.

  Lady St Claire sighed at her son. She put her hands on her hips. “The woman probably only knows butchers who pretend to be doctors,” Lady St Claire said reasonably. “We need to send for my personal physician.”

  Gregory sighed, “I am not a child, Mother. I am the Duke of Thornton, and I said that we will not be calling a doctor. If that does not please you, then I can step down, and Fredrick can take my place.”

  Lady St Claire regarded Gregory with irritation. “There is no need to play the actor, Gregory,” she admonished. “I just want to know the young woman is okay.”

  “Sherry is with her, and if anything changes, she will let me know,” Gregory said as if the matter was closed.

  Lady St Claire nodded and agreed, “Fine. I will go make an appearance. Several people were expecting to see the newly betrothed couple tonight, so I’ll need to have my speech at the ready.”

  “I am quite certain that me staying by the side of my stricken beloved is quite enough of a story to satisfy even the most sadistic of your friends,” Gregory said as he picked up a pen from his father’s desk. “Could you tell Fredrick to come here if you see him on your way out?”

  Lady St Claire mumbled, “Of course. Might as well treat me
like a servant. Are you going to put me out to pasture this coming year as well?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind,” Gregory replied as he scratched down a couple of words on the letter he was writing. When he heard the door shut loudly, Gregory mumbled, “Well, that took long enough.”

  ***

  “Your brother wishes to see you,” Lady St Claire informed Fredrick who had just come in the front door.

  Fredrick raised his eyebrow in concern at his mother’s tone. “Is everything rosy?”

  “Why don’t you take it up with the Duke of Thornton?” Lady St Claire threw back at her son as she pulled the door closed firmly behind herself.

  Fredrick was left standing in the front foyer completely confused and a little afraid of what he might find in the drawing room. He drew in a deep breath and made his way towards his father’s old drawing room, where Gregory now spent most of his time writing the correspondence and financial tinkering that running a large estate entailed.

  Once he arrived at the door, Fredrick paused a moment to adjust the wooden leg. It was chaffing him terribly after the walk in the front garden. He rapped his knuckles on the door when he was somewhat comfortable again.

  “Come in,” Gregory’s voice called from behind the thick wooden door.

  Fredrick opened the door warily. “Is it safe to enter?” he called.

  “I did say for you to come in, but you are welcome to stand in the hallway and yell like a simpleton,” Gregory said in irritation.

  Fredrick eased into the room as Gregory laid down the pen next to the fount that the man had just dipped the pen into. “Mother seemed rather upset,” Fredrick noted conversationally.

  “Yes, she is like that often,” Gregory said simply. “She was just being dramatic, and I called her on it.”

  Fredrick whistled, “I cannot imagine that ending poorly.”

  Gregory continued as he ignored his brother’s sarcastic remark, “Julia has taken ill. So, I will not be attending the dance that was tonight.”

  “I am terribly sorry that the lady is not feeling well, but I hardly think that is something I needed to know urgently,” Fredrick said in confusion.

  Gregory shook his head. “I actually needed to talk to you about the country estate.”

  “What about it?” Fredrick asked warily.

  Gregory shrugged. “It needs full-time supervision. We’ve increased the staffing, and there needs to be some oversight,” he said logically.

  “I thought we had an overseer for the estate,” Fredrick said. “What happened to Trent?”

  Gregory sighed, “He is too old and wishes to retire to a small farm of his own.”

  “Not a bad plan.” Fredrick agreed with the man. “So, what does that have to do with me?”

  Gregory shook his head at his brother. “I thought you might want to take the position on personally while I look for a replacement? It would give you time to recover at your own rate without the pressure of mother or anyone else.”

  Fredric stared at his brother for a moment before he smiled. “That actually does not sound like a bad idea,” Fredrick admitted.

  “You make it sound as if I never have any ideas,” Gregory said in vexation.

  Fredrick disagreed, “Quite the contrary. You have ideas all the time. They just are not routinely ones of great value.”

  “I think I just changed my mind,” Gregory said as he narrowed his eyes at his brother.

  Fredrick laughed, “You know I was only jesting.”

  “For someone who has ideas, maybe it would be obvious, but I am afraid that my simple brain cannot understand the complexity of a jest,” Gregory said as he rose.

  With a roll of his eyes, Fredrick asked, “When am I needed at the estate?”

  “Whenever you wish to leave,” Gregory said with a smile.

  Fredrick asked, “Are you sure you will not need me here to help out?”

  “I think that right now, you should be concentrating on getting better,” Gregory assured his brother. “We will be fine. Though, I would appreciate it if you came for the wedding.”

  Fredrick laughed and replied, “If you actually get her to the altar, then I will definitely be there.”

  “That might just be the trick, indeed,” Gregory agreed with a nod of his head.

  Chapter 5

  Jules lay in bed pondering just how she would get out of all this. There was a knock at the door, but Jules pretended that she did not hear it. Sherry had gone to fetch some supper from the kitchens, and Jules had no interest in talking to anyone.

  As Jules lay there with her eyes closed, she heard the door creak open. There were footfalls across the floor, heavier than Sherry’s light shoes. A hand touched Jules’ forehead, and her eyes popped open in surprise.

  Duke St Claire gave Jules an apologetic smile. “I did not mean to wake you. I just wanted to come check on you.” He cleared his throat and continued, “I was concerned when Sherry did not answer the door.”

  “She went to get food,” Jules said thickly. The idea that the man was actually that concerned about her made guilt well up inside her for wanting to run away. Surely he had done nothing so wrong as to deserve her spite.

  Duke St Claire nodded, and his blond hair shifted with his movements. “I will leave you to your rest,” he said quietly.

  “Thank you,” Jules said. With a nod of his head, the man was swiftly out of the room as if he had never been there. Jules rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands.

  Sherry came in a few moments later and sat a tray of food on the nightstand. “Are you okay, Miss?”

  Jules sat up in bed and shook her head. “His Grace came in here to check on me,” she said softly.

  “Oh?” Sherry asked curiously. “What about that makes you so upset?”

  Jules looked over at the woman and said, “Honestly, it is more that he never behaves quite how I think he should.”

  “And he should just do as you wish he would all the time?” Sherry asked in amusement. “It is my experience that men rarely do what we wish they would at any given time.”

  Jules sighed, “I just wish he was easier to understand.”

  “Maybe he is only hard to pin down because you want him to be something other than what he is,” Sherry said sagely. “My mother always said that you can dress a man in fine clothes, but it does not make him a gentleman. You simply cannot make people behave contrary to who they are.”

  With a frown, Jules said, “It would be so much easier if he did.”

  “Easier for you to hate him, you mean,” Sherry filled in for Jules. Jules sank down in bed. Her appetite had fled.

  ***

  Gregory spotted Sherry in the hallway the following morning and called out for her to await him. “How fares Miss Kelley?” Gregory enquired as he came abreast of the young woman.

  Sherry thought for a moment then said, “I don’t know for sure, Your Grace. She seemed well enough, then she refused to eat last night saying that she was not hungry.”

  Gregory frowned. He did not like the sound of that. Miss Kelley had not seemed so ill when he talked to her last night. “Perhaps I should check in on her,” Gregory mused out loud.

  “It might help her spirits, Your Grace,” Sherry said with a curtsey. The Duke nodded and then set off down the hallway towards Miss Kelley’s room with purpose. Sherry smiled to herself.

  ***

  When Gregory reached the door, he knocked hesitantly. He did not want to startle the woman as he had the night before. “Miss Kelley?” Gregory called. He listened for noises behind the shut door but heard none. “Miss Kelley, are you well?” Gregory tried again.

  With great care, Gregory opened the door. He saw the shape of the young woman in the bed. “Miss Kelley?”

  He was almost to the bed when he noticed that the shape was just pillows, and fear struck through his chest. “Miss Sherry,” Gregory bellowed for the chambermaid.

  The young maid arrived in a fluster. “What is it, Your Grace?�
�� Sherry asked, and then she saw the man holding up the covers with pillows stuffed under it. Sherry burst into tears. “Oh no, she really did run off,” Sherry cried.

  Gregory felt the fear morph into anger that he had never quite felt before. He had never truly experienced anything akin to a betrayal from someone he cared about. No, he had held people at a distance much more effectively than even his brother had. This was not acceptable, Gregory’s mind screamed.

  “Tell me everything that Miss Kelley has said to you over the last day,” Gregory said with a warning reverberation to his voice.

 

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