She had to overcome that problem or else she would be wed to Noah Acton – and she would have to share her husband with all of his mistresses. No thank you.
She had to be brave. She could do this. She hoped.
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
Drawing in a deep breath, Francis slowly exhaled and then pushed open the heavy double doors that opened into Fullbridge’s study. He was not looking forward to this conversation for he knew, word for word, how it would proceed. He also understood what was expected of him, what he had to do. He had, of course, always planned on asking Charlotte to marry him. Just not like this. Not right now either. But eventually.
“Underhill. Come in. Come in.” The duke waved him inside as Francis stepped through the doors and into the darkened room. Much like the duke himself, this room was shadowy, with heavy oak paneling and dark leather chairs that seemed to suck in the light rather than reflect it. There was such a thing as masculine décor, Francis noted to himself, and then there was taking things to almost dungeon-esque levels. The room certainly qualified as the latter.
However, the decided lack of sunshine probably wasn’t helping matters either, though the gloominess did rather match Francis’ mood quite well.
While the rain from the night before had abated, the thick gray clouds still hung low outside, making the room seem even darker with dusky shadows lurking in the corners. This study was probably not exactly a pleasant place on the best of days, though the duke was not exactly known for being a pleasant person either.
Then again, the room had probably once been quite charming. Francis could tell, or at least he could guess. By the same token, the duke had been charming once as well, or so Francis been told. Now? This room more than perfectly suited its occupant.
Oh, well. Best to get on with things. Delaying would not make the inevitable go away.
“You wished to see me, your grace.” That was not a question.
“Indeed.” The duke waved him into a chair, surprising Francis with his rather friendly tone. He had expected the coldness of an inquisition chamber rather than a – dare he say it – almost warm welcome. “I take it you have recovered from your night in the forest.”
Francis inclined his head in gratitude. “I have. Thank you, your grace. The hot bath was most welcome and much appreciated. Though the cottage we found was sufficient to keep us dry for the night and I’ll not say otherwise. Well stocked, too, and with plenty of kindling.”
Fullbridge looked away, almost embarrassed again when Francis mentioned the perfectly kept state of the cottage. “Yes. That cottage is a particular favorite of mine. Or was, once.” He stumbled through that sentence before clearing his throat nervously, making Francis wonder what was going on for this meeting was not proceeding at all how he imagined. “However while everyone is grateful that you rescued Miss Cleary…”
“We spent the night alone,” Francis finished for him, refusing to delay the inevitable. “Whatever we did or did not do, rumors of our night together have likely already spread far and wide and will most certainly end in ruin for Lady Charlotte unless proper steps are taken. I am aware of all of those things and more, your grace, and fully intend to do what is right and necessary. I shall do my duty. I would never even think to do otherwise.”
The duke arched an eyebrow now and leaned forward, the faint light from a nearby window revealing his expression to be more one of curiosity than of anger. “And that is all the lady is to you? A duty?”
Francis ran a hand through his still-damp hair, a bit unsettled now. Why wasn’t Fullbridge behaving as expected? It made no sense. None of this did. Well, there was naught to be done for things than to tell the truth, he supposed. “May I be brutally honest, your grace?”
“Please. And call me Phin. My friends do.” He rose and moved to the sideboard. “Drink?”
“Scotch, if you have it, please.” Francis had expected to be thoroughly berated for his actions, not offered a friendly drink. Had the entire world turned upside down or gone mad? Just then he decided he needed that drink to steady his nerves, for he was becoming utterly confused.
The duke smiled over his shoulder. “A man after my own heart, then.” He poured two glasses before returning to his desk. He handed Francis his glass before settling himself back into his chair. “Now where were we? Ah, yes, the matter of Miss Cleary.” The duke’s eyes glittered almost knowingly. “Friend to friend. Don’t worry, Underhill. I’m not here to condemn you or force you into anything. Merely to sort out and assist where I can.”
“Francis, if you please. I am still not quite accustomed to the title and none of my friends use it.” He took a large swallow of his scotch. “The truth? I care for her. Deeply. I have cared for her from the moment I met her over a year ago.”
“And yet you have not wed.” Phin raised his glass, his eyes more watchful than anything. Nor was there any condemnation in them, though there was curiosity.
“Because it is not that simple.” Francis wished that it were.
“Then explain the situation to me,” Phin offered, reclining back in his chair and slouching down, not appearing very duke-like at all. “Please. I like to think that, despite my own female problems, I am a reasonable man when it comes to such matters. I also come into this fresh. I have no knowledge of whatever secrets you might share with others, including your brother in law, Candlewood. Though I know of your past, of course, for you are a most gossiped about gentleman. Perhaps I can offer a different perspective, eh? One you might not have considered before?”
Francis mulled over the duke’s offer – for about the length of a breath really – before making his decision. “Very well. Since you have offered, I accept.”
Phin smiled again, pleasantly this time. “I rather thought you would. I can be very convincing when I wish to be.”
Francis would not disagree with that assessment. “My problem is two-fold, I suppose. The first part is that Lady Charlotte’s father would rather see me dead than wed to his daughter.”
“Something easily overcome when your brother-in-law is the Bloody Duke. Unless the man has a wish to die, which I do not believe he does, then he would most likely agree to the union if the offer of marriage between you two was made by a certain person.” Phin laced his fingers together in an arch and sat back in his chair as if contemplating. “I know of few men brave enough to tangle with the Bloody Duke, myself included and there is little I fear.”
“True enough,” Francis admitted, “but there is another problem. I may already be married. Or at least the man I used to be might already be wed.”
Now the duke looked intrigued. “Go on.”
Francis took a moment before continuing. Other than his brother-in-law, he had never admitted the truth of the dreams to anyone. Nick had simply sent his men out to locate Violet Denton. The duke hadn’t told his men who she was or that Francis was having dreams about a faceless woman that might very well be her.
Yet here in the silence of Phin’s study, where the shadows crept long and gray, Francis felt as if he were finally ready to unburden himself, especially to someone who might be able to offer some sound advice.
“Over the last few months, I have dreamed of a woman with no face. Except that my gut, which both Dr. Hastings and Dr. Longford assure me I must listen to more for it remembers things my brain cannot, tells me I know this woman. Or I did once.” Francis took another sip of his scotch. “Then, just the other week, we learned about the existence of a Violet Denton who at one point lived in Cornwall. In the area around Cross Hill.”
“The same estate where you resided when you were known as William Denton.” The duke’s lips twitched. “You think she might be your wife.” He titled his head. “What about sister? Is that possible? Or were you an only child?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything. That is precisely the problem.” Francis rubbed his still-weary eyes. His lack of sleep from the night before was finally catching up with him, s
omething the duke seemed to recognize if the look in his eyes was any indication. “Nick has sent his men, along with a veritable army of Bow Street Runners, to search for Violet, but as of yet, no one has been able to find her. Though I know they will, given enough time. No one disappears forever. Not even me, apparently, and I was thought to be long dead. So she will be found as well, though I’ve no idea when. Compounding my problem is that Miss Cleary has demanded I run off to Gretna with her so that we might wed immediately.”
Phin nodded in understanding. “Something you are reluctant to do in case this Violet Denton is your wife and not your former sister.” He twirled his glass between his fingers as he mulled over the problem. “Yes, I see your problem.”
“It is, I fear, more than a problem.” Francis looked away to study the duke’s bookshelves for a moment. They were filled with all manner of objects, indicating that this man had likely once lived a life more far-flung than he did at present. Had Francis been like that? Before he had reassumed the name he had been born with and all of the duty that came with it? He didn’t know and probably never would. “I believe that Lady Charlotte accepted your invitation to this house party in order to make me jealous. She believes I no longer care for her. That I have lost interest.”
“Which is hardly the truth,” the duke interjected.
“Precisely. I even told her as much, but she would not believe me. Said she needed time to sort things out. Whatever that means.” Francis waved his hand in the air. “And then she arrives and begins taking up with Lord Snowly, though I know that should not really surprise me as she is quite determined to find a husband. Yet she flirts with him as if we mean nothing to each other.”
“Just as you do with my sister.” Again, there was no recrimination in Phin’s voice, merely a statement.
Francis met Phin’s eyes. “I have made it clear to Lady Priscilla from the first where we stand. She is under no illusions about my intentions and she cares for me no more than she would a friend. I would never hurt her. In fact, I like her very much. However I knew from the first night we would not suit, as did she. I wish we did suit, for that would make my life a good deal easier. She is a lovely woman.”
The duke’s eyes softened at the praise Francis offered for his sister. “That is so very much like Cilla. If only she would find a good man, I’d not worry about her so much. But one cannot pick a spouse for a sibling, can they? Much as I might wish to do just that.” Then he sighed. “However, back to your conundrum. I think I have information that might help you.”
“You do?” Francis was aware his eyes were likely guarded. Even now, trust was not always an easy thing for him to grant. Though he seemed to be doing well enough with the duke.
“Hmmmm.” Phin rose to pour himself another drink. “Forgive me. It’s been a difficult few days. More?”
Francis shook his head. “No, thank you. My head has been far too muddled as of late, I fear. But I am very interested in what you might have to tell me.” He did his best not to get his hopes up, for really, what could this man know that men like the Bloody Duke did not. However, there was a chance that he might glean some useful information, slim as it was.
Phin took another drink and stared out the window where storm clouds gathered again. “While you and Miss Cleary were missing last evening, Lord Snowly and I had something of a minor run-in, let’s say. Others witnessed the nasty event, but I can assure you, it really was nothing. A mere trifle.” Given that Francis had yet to see the earl today made him wonder just how minor the altercation was. “In the aftermath, I discovered that there is a plan in place, led in no small part by your lady’s father, to wed Miss Cleary to either Lord Snowly or, preferably, his uncle, the Duke of Springford in the hopes of begetting an heir and gaining a good deal of coin in exchange. It is all rather distasteful and it bothers me to no end that a man I once thought well of could so easily agree to such a plan.”
Francis wrinkled his brow in confusion. “But Springford is eighty if he is a day! An heir? Truly?”
“Ah, but Snowly is not so old, is he? And he was all too eager to pay court to Miss Cleary the first night here. She, in turn, was very eager to accept his attentions, especially for a woman who is so clearly in love with someone else. Namely you. Odd, don’t you think?” Phin’s eyes were dark.
Suddenly, the pieces of the mystery began to fall into place. “You believe Charlotte knows of this plan?”
“I suspect she does, yes.” There was sympathy in the duke’s eyes now. “Why else would she press for a marriage so quickly when she knows, as you say, that you will wed her as soon as this whole Violet Denton issue is sorted out. Even if the other chit is your wife, no law will bind you to her in the end. Not if you wed her as William Denton, anyway.”
Francis rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed now. “Er, Lady Charlotte doesn’t know about Violet. Not yet. I haven’t been able to tell her. Things have been strained between us as of late. But Charlotte does know that I fully intend to marry her,” he rushed on.
“Does she know you love her?” The duke took another leisurely drink, tapping his fingers against his glass.
“No. I never told her.” And for that, Francis was extremely remiss. Not to mention very, very sorry.
“Then perhaps it is time she knew. Perhaps that might provide her with the confidence to accept your promises of marriage as the truth and will be willing to wait for a bit longer.” Phin put his drink down. “The two of you need to speak and speak plainly, my friend. No more secrets. You also need to wed. Everything else aside, propriety demands it. Even if I won’t. Or at least I won’t yet.”
“That doesn’t help with the issue of Violet Denton. I require time and Charlotte obviously has none to give.” Francis wondered if Nick knew about Lord Waverly’s ultimatum to his daughter. Likely not for he would have said something. Or shot someone or tortured them or sliced them into tiny pieces or otherwise coerced them into doing his bidding.
After all, Nick’s primary goal in life was to ensure that his wife was happy, and if Eliza believed that Francis was unhappy, then she would be unhappy. Which would, in turn, make Nick unhappy and that was something nobody wanted.
Phin smiled again and for a moment, he reminded Francis very much of his brother in law. Then again, Nick hardly had the market cornered on un-duke-like behavior. He was simply the best at it.
“Leave that part to me. After last evening, I have leverage over Lord Snowly, and to a certain degree his uncle, that not even Lord Waverly can dismiss so easily. They will agree to my terms. Or else.” Francis did not want to ask Phin what the “or else” was. He knew better. Then the duke sobered. “However, I will warn you that Lord Snowly is a bit…wounded today. And wounded animals attack. Do not trust him alone with Miss Cleary. He could make a difficult situation worse.” He looked at the door. “I have some servants watching him, but he is clever enough and they are untrained. If he wishes to elude them, he will.”
What in Heaven’s name had happened here last night? Was there a brawl or some sort of orgy? Once more, Francis did not think he wished to know. However, he did feel compelled to at least inquire.
“Is everyone here well?” he asked hesitantly, thinking of no other way to phrase his question.
“Everyone other than Snowly? Yes.” Phin grinned and Francis had the impression that this man was not nearly so rigid and uptight as everyone assumed. At least not all of the time. Just as the trinkets on his bookshelves hinted.
“I see.” Which actually, Francis did not.
“Let us just say that entertainments of all sorts abounded for just about everyone. Most of it unsuitable for polite Society.” The duke nodded to the door. “I have some things to arrange just now so I am afraid that I must cut this chat short. Though I will say, this conversation was quite enlightening, not to mention helpful.”
“I found it so as well, but, as you so correctly point out, I need to speak with Lady Charlotte immediately.” Francis knew that. He’d put th
is conversation off for far too long. “We need to clear up some confusion, I think, the lady and I. So I must be off as well.”
“I shall make whatever you desire happen with all possible haste,” Phin promised, his expression no longer quite as stiff and reserved as it had been when Francis had first entered the study. “Whatever you need to do to win the lady, however you need to accomplish your goal, let my staff know and all of the details will be seen to immediately.” He paused for a long moment. “While I cannot imagine what sort of life you have led this past year, I also cannot imagine it has been an easy one.”
“It was not.” That, Francis decided, was something of an understatement.
“Then I will do what I can.” The duke stopped him with a hand on his arm. “In the event that speaking with Miss Cleary is easier than you anticipate, this evening after the dancing, a few of my friends and I will be playing billiards on the upper-most floor. I’d like for you to join us, if you’ve a mind.”
Francis smiled, the first genuine smile he could remember in quite some time. “I would like that, your grace.”
“Phin.”
“Very well. Phin. I shall see you then, if I am otherwise unoccupied.” Francis turned to leave when the duke called him back once more.
“And Francis? Do not assume this unknown woman, this Violet Denton is your wife. She very well may not be and you might simply be borrowing trouble you do not need.” Phin shrugged. “A wife would be much more difficult for one to lose, I should think. She would, after all, likely have remained behind at one of your family homes and thus, would be easily located. A sister? Not so much, for there are many places one might stash a recalcitrant sister and then forget about her. Even if one did have a perfect memory.”
Francis continued to mull over the duke’s words as he made his way to the east wing of the house in search of Charlotte. Though he was confident that Phin meant every word that he had spoken, he still was not certain how the man thought to keep Snowly, Waverly, and Springford in line. Especially not without the threat of more violence. He knew that well enough from his time in the company of his brother in law.
A Lady to Desire Page 21
