The Duke's Forbidden Love (Book 4, Age of Innocence)

by Debra Elizabeth

  “It makes me happy to see him enjoying life again, and it’s all because of you. For so long, he isolated himself away from everyone. I was so worried about him, but nothing either Fulton or I did helped lift him out of the darkness that threatened his very soul. You’ve changed him, and I love seeing my brother enjoying life again.”

  “It was a lovely day wasn’t it?”

  “Indeed it was.”

  When they reached the parlor, Meredith walked to the pianoforte. “Do you play, Clara?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Perhaps you’d like to try and find out.”

  “Would you mind playing something first? Perhaps that will jog my memory.”

  Meredith nodded. “Of course.” She settled herself at the pianoforte and launched her fingers across the keys with impressive skill.

  Clara sat on the settee and let the music wash over her. The piece was beautiful but didn’t spark any memories. Could it be she’d never heard this particular piece before?

  Meredith stopped playing and turned toward her. “Sound familiar?”

  Clara shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. I must commend you on your playing, though. It’s quite beautiful.”

  “Thank you. That was Haydn. Would you like to try?”

  “I’m not sure I know how.”

  “You’ll never know whether you can play if you don’t attempt it. Why not give it a try? You may surprise yourself.”

  Clara stood and walked to Meredith, who stood to let her sit. She should try to play. What did she have to lose? It could help spark something in her memory; at least, she hoped it could be a first step to recovering all her memories and finally learning who she was and where she called home.

  “Don’t force it. Sit and let your fingers remember the keys,” Meredith said as she took a seat on the settee.

  Clara took a deep breath and closed her eyes before resting her hands on the keys. It was several minutes before her right hand began moving and a soulful melody came forth before her left hand joined in. The music flowed, and it was several minutes before she stopped.

  Meredith clapped, coming to stand next to her. “That was stunningly beautiful.”

  A tear slid down Clara’s cheek.

  “My dear Clara, why the tears?”

  Clara swiped the tear away. “The loss of my memory has robbed me of so much. I don’t remember how I know that melody or even what it is.”

  Meredith sat down on the bench and took Clara’s hand. “It was Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven, and you played it masterfully. You are indeed accomplished on this instrument.”

  “Thank you, Meredith. You’re too kind.”

  “Kindness has nothing to do with it. I know superb playing when I hear it. You’ll have to entertain us tonight after dinner.”

  Clara shook her head. “No. I don’t wish to embarrass myself or subject you to my fumbling on the keys. What if that’s the only song I know?”

  “I doubt that, but I do understand your trepidation. Perhaps as you become more accustomed to playing, you’ll feel more comfortable. Can you read this?” Meredith asked, picking up some sheet music.

  Clara looked over the sheet and smiled. “I can.”

  “That’s a good first step. I’ll leave you to practice then. I have a number of letters to write before tea,” Meredith said before she left Clara.

  Clara spread the sheet music out and began playing, no particular melody catching her interest. Even though she didn’t remember any of her lessons, she hadn’t lost her ability to play and read music. She said a silent prayer of thanks to Meredith for pushing her to try her hand at playing. As she lost herself in the music, she hoped Warwick would enjoy a musical evening in the not-too-distant future.

  Chapter 11

  FIVE DAYS LATER, THE DUCAL carriage stopped in front of a small chapel. The driver got down from his seat and let down the steps. Warwick got out and handed down Clara and Meredith, Fulton following.

  The vicar rushed over to greet the duke. “Your Grace, it’s a pleasure to see you at services today.”

  “Finley.” He turned to Clara. “Lady Clara, may I make Mr. Finley known to you?”

  The vicar bowed over her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Clara.”

  “The pleasure is mine, Mr. Finlay.”

  “Finlay, I’ve been remiss in attending services, but I shall rectify that, beginning today.”

  “I look forward to seeing you more often, Your Grace,” Mr. Finlay said.

  Warwick nodded and led his party into the chapel, walking to the first pew on the right.

  The small chapel was filled with parishioners, and the whispers began as the ducal party passed.

  Is that the Duke of Warwick?

  Who’s the woman sitting with the family?

  Did you see the scar on her face?

  Clara put her hand over her cheek. “I shouldn’t have come,” she whispered to Warwick as they took their seats.

  “My darling Clara, don’t pay them any heed. I’m more of an oddity here than you,” he said as he lowered her hand from her face.

  The whispering stopped when the vicar stood at the lectern.

  “Good morning. It’s such a pleasure to see you all today. Let us begin: Grace, mercy and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ be with you.”

  “Amen,” the parishioners said.

  Mr. Finlay continued: “May the Father of all mercies cleanse you from your sins, and restore you in his image to the praise and glory of his name, through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Mr. Finlay looked out at the parishioners. “Today, I would like to read a passage from the bible that addresses how we deal with those less fortunate than ourselves, be it in poverty, physical deformity, or something else.” He opened the bible and read Matthew 5:16—“In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”

  Mr. Finlay closed the bible and addressed the congregation. “This simple sentence speaks volumes about Christian charity. We are all commanded by Our Lord to share with and help those less fortunate than ourselves. In the same way, charity should be extended to those who suffer from any number of deformities. It is not Christian to stare, mock, or laugh at those less fortunate than ourselves. We must remember that not all hurts are seen with our eyes. Words can sometimes cause hurts worse than any physical harm. A broken arm or leg will heal, but emotional hurts sometimes never heal, so let us go forth and remember to honor Our Lord with kindness.”

  Warwick glanced at Clara, who was listening to the vicar with rapt attention. He had no idea if Mr. Finlay’s sermon was the one he’d planned for today, but he was grateful to him. He hoped that this sermon would help quell some of the whispering about Clara’s scar. That slight imperfection on her face was of no consequence to him. She was beautiful both inside and out, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Warwick drew in a quick breath, surprised by the thought. He hadn’t previously entertained any thought of spending his life with Clara. Was he in love with her? He knew his feelings were growing, but until now, he hadn’t let himself fully admit that he loved her. What was he waiting for?

  Mr. Finlay concluded the services with the Lord’s Prayer and walked down the aisle to greet all his parishioners as they left the church.

  “Mr. Finley, you simply must join Julianna and me for supper soon,” Mrs. Gileson said as she exited the chapel.

  Mr. Finley nodded. “That’s very kind, Mrs. Gileson. I shall send around a note.”

  “That will suit. Good day, Mr. Finley.”

  Warwick’s party was next. “Mr. Finley, a fine sermon today.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace. My lord, my lady, good morning,” Mr. Finlay said as Meredith and Fulton greeted him.

  When they reached the carriage, Warwick
said, “Meredith, why don’t you and Fulton take the carriage? I’d like to show Clara a bit more of the village, and we’ll walk back to the castle.”

  Meredith gave her brother a knowing smile. “Of course.”

  Warwick extended his arm, and Clara placed her hand on it. Her touch seared his skin through his jacket and shirt as he steered her toward a small park just beyond the church.

  “Ipswich is such a darling village,” Clara said.

  “It is, and I plan to be more involved with the villagers. I’ve neglected my duties toward them; not my financial duties, or course, but my interactions with them. They deserve to know their duke.”

  “They will appreciate that, I’m sure.”

  “Shall we walk to the park?” he asked.

  Clara nodded. “That will be lovely.”

  They walked in companionable silence down the street and entered the park. Warwick steered Clara toward a bench. “Let’s sit a moment.”

  “James, what is it? You’ve seemed unsettled since the sermon.”

  Warwick stood and paced in front of Clara. “I’ve spent so much time alone, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be happy with someone again.”

  Clara gave him a sweet smile, the one she saved only for him. It was what he needed to give him the courage for what he wanted to say. He sat next to her and took her hand in his. “My darling Clara, you must know how much I admire you.”

  “Admire?”

  “Yes, and esteem you as well.”

  “Esteem? James, what do you mean?”

  He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “My dear sweet Clara, what I’m trying to say is that I love you.”

  Clara’s eyes widened. “You love me?”

  “With every fiber of my being. Would you make me the happiest of men and consent to become my wife?”

  Clara’s eyes filled with tears, which spilled down her cheeks.

  “Why are you crying?” Warwick asked.

  “My darling. These are happy tears.”

  “Does that mean yes?”

  “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

  Warwick embraced her. “I’m so very pleased. If we weren’t in a public park, I would kiss you.”

  Clara chuckled. “Perhaps you can show me later under a beautiful sky full of stars.”

  “I would be delighted.”

  “But James—”

  Warwick touched a finger to her lips. “No buts, unless you’ve changed your mind?”

  Clara shook her head. “No. That’s not it at all. I would be honored to be your wife, but I have no idea how to be a duchess. What if I embarrass you?”

  “Just be your usual kind and generous self. Besides that, you may do whatever you wish.”

  “I’m not sure what that entails. Perhaps getting to know your tenants would be a good first step.”

  “A wonderful idea. We can start tomorrow if you like.”

  “I would love it.”

  Warwick stood and pulled her to her feet. “Shall we walk back to the castle and share our happy news with Meredith and Fulton?”

  Clara slipped her hand in the crook of his arm. “I would like nothing better.”

  Chapter 12

  THEY STROLLED BACK TO THE castle and handed off gloves and hats to Gresham, then found Meredith and Fulton in the parlor.

  “Did you enjoy your walk?” Meredith asked.

  Clara couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “Indeed we did.”

  “Brother, do you have something you’d liked to share with us?”

  Warwick chuckled. “You know me too well.” He turned to Clara. “Would you like to tell them?”

  Clara nodded. “We’re betrothed!”

  “That’s wonderful! I wish you happy,” Meredith said, hugging Clara and then her brother.

  Fulton added his own congratulations.

  “This calls for some champagne,” Warwick said.

  He had no more said it than Gresham walked in carrying a tray of glasses and a bottle of champagne. “Your Grace, shall I pour?”

  “No thank you, Gresham. I shall do the honors.”

  “I took the liberty of having Gresham prepare the tray. I’m happy that I guessed correctly,” Meredith said.

  Clara was beside herself with happiness. She never would have believed her life could change so much in two months. She was madly in love with the duke, and he with her.

  “You must go to London and meet with my modiste,” Meredith said. “She’s a wonder and has a bigger selection of fabrics than Mrs. Gileson.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Warwick said. “Perhaps there’s also something in Town that will help jog your memory.”

  “London? I don’t know, James. I’m just now getting comfortable here.”

  “If you prefer not to go, that’s fine, but I’d love to take you to the theatre and the museums. There are an endless number of entertainments for us to enjoy.”

  “The theatre? I’d love to attend the theatre. Very well, we’re off to London then!”

  THE DOOR TO THE Warwick townhouse opened when the carriage stopped at the prestigious Mayfair address.

  Clara looked out the window. “This is your home?”

  James nodded, exiting the carriage. “Yes. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay.”

  “Oh James, how could I not? It’s a beautiful home,” Clara said as James handed her down from the carriage.

  “Shall we?”

  Clara placed her hand on his arm, and they walked up the stairs.

  “Welcome home, Your Grace,” the butler said, opening the door wide.

  “Thank you, Brookes.”

  “Everything has been prepared according to your wishes,” the butler said.

  “Excellent.”

  James led Clara into the spacious foyer.

  She didn’t know where to look first. There were beautiful paintings on the walls, the black-and-white marble floor shone to perfection, and an elegant staircase led to the upper floors. “It’s so beautiful.”

  The staff were lined up along the wall, waiting to be introduced to the duke’s fiancée, their new mistress.

  James placed his hand on the small of Clara’s back. “My dear, this is Brookes.”

  Brookes bowed his head. “My lady, it’s a pleasure to welcome you.”

  “Good day, Brookes.”

  The housekeeper curtseyed. “I’m Mrs. Tuttle. Whenever you’d like, I’d be happy to give you a tour of the house, my lady.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Tuttle. I’d like that,” Clara said.

  Warwick proceeded down the line and introduced her to the rest of the staff. “Come, you must be tired. I’ll show you to your room,” he said.

  Clara followed James up the staircase and down the wide hall. He opened the door to the last bedchamber on the right and ushered Clara inside. The room was bright and airy, decorated in tones of cream and spring green. “If the colors are not to your liking, you need only say so. You’re free to redecorate any room in the house, except my study,” James said with a chuckle.

  “We shall see about that,” Clara said with a sly smile before kissing his cheek. “This room is so pretty; I don’t think I’d ever want to redecorate it.”

  Warwick pointed to the far wall. “That door leads to a shared parlor, and from there into my bedchamber.”

  Clara pulled off her gloves and untied her bonnet as she walked to the window. “Oh, what a lovely view of the garden.”

  “I have some business to attend to while we’re here. Why don’t you rest for a bit. I’ll see you at tea. If you need anything, Mrs. Tuttle will be happy to help you,” James said as he swept her into his arms for a soul-searing kiss. When she uttered a sweet moan, he deepened the kiss for long moments before stepping back. “If I don’t leave now, I never shall.”
/>   “I shall miss you, my love.”

  Warwick nodded and left Clara in the duchess’s bedchamber. He needed to see his friend, Camden Darkin, the Duke of Wetherby. If anyone could find out anything about Clara and her background, it would be England’s best spymaster. They’d met at Eton and become fast friends, continuing their friendship while attending Oxford.

  Brookes handed him his hat. “Your Grace, shall I call for your carriage?”

  “No. I’ll walk.”

  Brookes opened the door, and Warwick bounded down the stairs, heading toward the Wetherby townhouse, located not far from his own home. The mid-June air hadn’t risen to stifling heat yet, and he enjoyed stretching his legs after three long days in the carriage. After a brisk walk of ten minutes, Warwick climbed the stairs of an impressive-looking townhouse. He reached for the knocker, but the door opened before he had a chance to bang it down.

  “Good day, Your Grace,” Mr. Hester, the Wetherby butler said.

  “Is Wetherby in?”

  Warwick was among only a handful of people who were shown into Wetherby’s study straight away. “This way, Your Grace.”

  Warwick followed the butler down the hall to the last door on the right. “I’ll announce myself,” he said.

  “Very good, Your Grace,” Hester said, taking Warwick’s hat and gloves before turning on his heel and walking back the way they’d come.

  Warwick gave a quick knock before grabbing the doorknob and opening the door. Inside the study, the Duke of Wetherby, who sat behind a large oak desk, looked up when the door opened. “Wetherby, I apologize for barging in on you without notice, but I need your help.”

  Wetherby’s face lit up. “Warwick, this is a surprise. What brings you to London?” He shook Warwick’s hand before walking to the sideboard, where he picked up two glasses and the decanter of brandy. “Have a seat.” He came back to the desk and poured the amber liquid into both glasses before handing one to Warwick.

  Warwick sipped the brandy, gathering his thoughts. “It’s a delicate situation I bring to you today. I was hoping that, with your network, you’d be able to help me.”