Desperately Inn Love with the Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Patricia Haverton

  Disgusting Pig,

  Every day, every hour, I see your inn and I have to hold back bile. I think of the slop you serve, the lumpy beds you force your visitors to endure, and that pig-like face of yours and it proves to be tasking not to vomit on your steps. I cannot believe how much money I have spent on this brothel! Brothel, it is! Filled with whores, diseased and dirty-faced riff raff. This town will soon be saved from the likes of Balfour’s Brothel. I shall make this a town of God once more.

  Her stomach lurched and she shook her head. “I cannot believe he is so horrible when he is the reason he was banned!”

  “What shall we do?” Kathy squeaked.

  Melody sat the letter down and raised her hands to her lips in a praying gesture. “I hope that he will tire himself out and nothing more will come of it. He has been sending these for almost a week now and has done nothing but leave notes.”

  It was starting to feel like a fool’s hope, as this was the first day that Obadiah had left two notes. She worried that his hatred was growing, instead of subsiding. Still, Melody did not yet want to bring the attention of the law to the inn. She knew how the constable would be, thinking she somehow brought it on herself. Tears began to fill her eyes.

  Then, she remembered Kathy was still standing there. Blinking them away, she gave her maid a reassuring smile. “Don’t you worry, Kathy. I will ensure nothing happens to you.”

  “It is not me I worry for, Melody,” her maid whispered. “It’s you.”

  Zachariah awoke the next morning with a nagging headache. Much to his surprise, his encounter with her candidate did not set his mother’s bristles up. However, he made a point to avoid her and even skipped his meals for the day just so he didn’t have to see her at mealtimes. He and Caleb planned to leave for India in just over a month’s time, which would hopefully curtail his mother’s efforts once she found out.

  As he went to leave for London once again the next morning, a voice called from over his shoulder. “I expect you home by tomorrow evening.” He peered around to see his mother lounging on a bench. She looked exhausted, as if she had been up all night. “We are attending a ball. Agatha hopes to have another candidate lined up for you then. This time, I expect you to give the girl a fair chance.”

  “I gave Lady Charlotte a fair chance,” he defended. “It is not my fault she was so transparently acting.”

  “Yes, dear. But remember your manners. You should have at least given her until luncheon. The poor girl went home hungry and in tears.”

  He sighed heavily and nodded. Perhaps he did feel a little bad about his previous behavior. “Very well. I shall return tomorrow afternoon.” At least that meant he had a little more time at the inn before he was expected home.

  Caleb was waiting outside of the carriage for Zachariah, pacing about anxiously. There was no time for the Duke to ask what the matter was before the explanation spewed from his lips. “I had a horrible dream, Zachariah. My poor Betsy had the plague! She was in a little hut, left to rot by her family so that they, too, wouldn’t succumb to the infectious sores. Even in such a state, I found her tragically beautiful. I couldn’t get into the hut, however. I was left just staring through the window as she cried for water.”

  “That is quite the dream, Romeo,” he replied as he climbed into the carriage. “Sounds like your worry is troubling your mind.”

  “Can we please go directly to the inn? I long to see if she is all right.”

  “I want to make one stop first, then we will go,” Zachariah assured him.

  As they rode to London, Caleb began to ease from his anxiety. It was a lovely day outside, all of England graced with a vast blue sky and puffy white clouds that promised occasional shade but not a drop of rain. Zachariah breathed in the fresh air as they rode along, hoping that his extended time at the inn would grant him peace and clarity.

  He only hoped that their presence wasn’t becoming too much for the Gentle Rose. Part of him was a little embarrassed at the fact he was using the establishment in part to hide from his duties of the dukedom. That did not at all dampen his genuine appreciation for the inn and its wonderful keeper.

  They stopped at a local liquor merchant and Zachariah purchased a case of wine, along with a case of assorted liquors and hoped it would be enough to help the inn for a couple weeks. As the footman helped him load the cases into the carriage, Caleb appeared from the candy shop next door.

  “More sweetmeats for your beloved?”

  “Can you think of something better to cheer up a cook?” Caleb grinned.

  Before Zachariah entered the carriage once again, he spotted something in a nearby window display and his eyes sparkled. He quickly entered the store and made his purchase, tipping the shopkeeper because of his enthusiasm, and hurried back to the carriage. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Melody’s face when she saw it. The entire ride to the inn, he debated on when the perfect time to give it to her would be.

  It was just before lunchtime when the pair arrived once more at the Gentle Rose Inn. The footman and Zachariah tasked themselves with carrying in the heavy cases of alcohol as Caleb hurried ahead of them, desperate to lay eyes on Betsy.

  “What is all this?” Melody exclaimed from the bar as they approached with the hefty boxes.

  “Wine and spirits. Hopefully enough to get you fully stocked for a fortnight,” Zachariah explained, setting the box down and smoothing back his hair.

  She looked at him with pleading eyes. “Zachariah, you do too much.”

  “On the contrary,” he beamed. “It is actually the least I can do.”

  She peered into the crates and marveled at the selections. “This will be enough surely for two weeks, maybe more.”

  “Splendid.”

  “Where is Miss Lovell?” Caleb finally sounded from next to him.

  “She is in the kitchen. I can go get her. Do you two care for lunch?”

  “That would be wonderful, thank you.”

  When Melody moved to the kitchen, Zachariah rounded the bar and began unpacking the bottles for her. Caleb sighed and sank down onto a barstool. “She has to be feeling better if she is back to work.”

  “Must have been the honey candies which upset her stomach.”

  “You may jest but I think it very well could have been,” Caleb snickered.

  The two women emerged from the kitchen and Melody was hovering over him in an instant. “You do not need to do all this, Zachariah. Your purchase was enough. I can manage from here.”

  He stood up and dusted his hands. “You really must become better acquainted with a helping hand. No one said I had to do this. I chose to.” He handed her a couple of bottles as he continued to unpack them.

  “Very well,” she muttered. “Thank you.”

  “What have I said about thanking me so much?”

  She shot him a glare. “As I need to get better at welcoming help, you need to get better at accepting gratitude.”

  “Fair enough, my lady.”

  Her nose crinkled in what he assumed was amusement, but something about her smile made him wonder if it was delight instead. His concentration was broken by the gushing of Caleb and Betsy.

  “Feeling better today, are we?” Zachariah asked her, breaking their low flirting.

  She turned to him and smiled, “I am. Even better now.”

  “Only the finest sweetmeats in all of London for someone as fine as you,” Caleb oozed, playfully poking the tip of her nose.

  Zachariah’s heart sang. How funny it was that Caleb and himself felt so comfortable there instead of their cushy, lavish estates. Never would they act so boldly when rubbing elbows with Lords or Ladies. In fact, if anyone of Sandorne spotted them, there would surely be hell to pay. But he didn’t allow his thoughts to labor on that. He didn’t want his dukedom to be anything but a blessing to the halls of the Gentle Rose.

  In the midst of their joyous greetings, Zachariah excused himself to fetch his bag and the gift for Melody. He couldn’t think of a
better time to give it to her. Bag on his shoulder, he held the small wooden box in hand and felt butterflies in his stomach. His only hope would be that her surprise would overtake any inkling of rejection she would try to express.

  Stepping back into the inn, he was welcomed by the sound of shattering glass and screams from the kitchen. His eyes rounded with alert and he darted into the dining room on his way to see what the matter was.

  Chapter 19

  Melody rushed into the kitchen to find all the cooks standing in a circle. Her gaze whipped around the room and much to her horror, a pile of broken plates covered the floor. “What in God’s name happened?!” she exclaimed.

  “The back door opened and someone hurled a rock in!”

  Mary, one of the cooks, held a rock which had a piece of paper glued to it. “All it says is Dovey Pie.”

  She groaned and placed a hand on her forehead. Perhaps it was becoming a bit too much for her to ignore any longer… Just at that moment, the kitchen door flew open and in ran Zachariah. “Is everything all right?”

  Melody first looked about the faces of the cooks, ensuring none of them were injured. “Yes, I think so.” She stepped in front of Mary to shield the sight of the stone from Zachariah’s careful gaze. “Just a spill of dishes.”

  Doubt was immediately on his face as he looked about the frightened cooks. Without a word, however, he walked back into the dining room. “Melody,” Betsy whispered to her. “This is getting out of hand.”

  “I know,” she breathed.

  “You should tell him.”

  “Why?” Melody huffed, almost defensively. “I can manage quite well on my own. I always have.”

  “If you say so,” Betsy frowned. “I just fear what will happen next.”

  Turning around, Melody took the stone from Mary and threw it in the trashcan. Leaving nasty notes was one thing, but damaging her property yet again was another. She had employees to look out for! Rubbing her forehead, she looked at the worried Betsy. “If it happens again, I will send for the constable,” she assured her.

  “I only pray he does something about it.”

  “As do I,” she sighed. “Let us go about our day, however. We shouldn’t let fear of a drunk control us. Understand, ladies?” she called out, raising her voice for all to hear. “The likes of Obadiah will not rattle this inn.”

  The women gave a shout of cheer in agreement before returning to their duties. Just as quickly as the interruption had occurred, it disintegrated from their minds and routine commenced. Melody tended to the lobby and dining room, Betsy led the kitchen, and the Duke and steward dined and chatted about their business deals while occasionally calling her over for more tea or idle chatter. It was an almost blissful day.

  Just as all the times before, Melody and Betsy also joined the noblemen for dinner. They feasted on their heaping servings and sipped wine, and endured Caleb and Betsy’s flirting.

  “Melody,” Zachariah spoke suddenly in the midst of dinner. “I had a thought. Perhaps it might be wise for me to accompany you to the bank regarding the loan you require for the repairs.””

  She shyly pushed her vegetables about on her plate. “I’ve tried more than once at that—I’ve tried more times than one can count.”

  “I’m sure of it. However, I’m also sure you haven’t attempted with a Duke present.”

  “He’s going to wave his magical Duke wand over the bank teller to grant you your wish,” Caleb slurred.

  Zachariah howled in laughter. “You’re cup shot, old chap.”

  He raised his glass of wine with a loopy grin; he had polished off nearly an entire bottle himself. “I cannot help that I have been subdued by the cup of the creature when in the presence of such fine… creatures.”

  They all laughed before Melody turned her attention back to Zachariah. “I suppose it is worth a shot, isn’t it?”

  “I believe so,” he smiled.

  “To women!” Caleb hollered, thrusting his glass higher in the air. The wine spilled over and onto the table, everyone flying back to avoid being splashed.

  “All right, I think that is our cue to retire,” Zachariah snickered, grabbing the napkin from his lap and dabbing up the wine.

  “You get him to bed, I shall see to this,” Melody stated, carefully taking the napkin from his hold.

  He looked at her and sighed happily. “I am saddened with how quick today flew by.”

  “There will be plenty more days just like it, I’m sure.”

  Zachariah helped Caleb stand from the booth and slowly assisted him up to their room. “What a mess that man is,” Betsy laughed as she helped clear the table.

  “He is quite fond of the bottle, though I don’t take him as a drunkard.”

  “Just a man who knows how to have a good time,” Betsy nodded. “And a man that can’t hold his wine.” As Melody started to fetch dishes from the other tables, Betsy called over to her. “You go on to bed, too. You covered for me yesterday. The least I can do is cleaning the dining room.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t—”

  “Zachariah was right about you. You need to learn to accept help.”

  Her hands shot up defensively, “Very well! I am on my way. Good night, Betsy.”

  “Goodnight!”

  Melody headed up to her room, her heart filled with admiration and affection. Never did she think in her sad life that she would be surrounded by such lovely friends. They were becoming the closest thing to family that Melody thought she would ever have again.

  As she reached her floor, Melody halted at the sight of her door slightly ajar. The only ones who lived on the top floor with her were the maids and Betsy—and all of them knew not to enter her portion of the inn. It was her only sanctuary. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she slowly entered the room. She began to ease, seeing that everything seemed to be in place. Perhaps in an absent-minded way, Melody had left the door cracked and the draft blew it open. After she lit the lamp, Melody let down her hair from the bun it was secured in and headed over her bed.

  That was when her heart stopped. On her pillow was a folded piece of paper. Another letter. Immediately, Melody trembled. Obadiah had not only snuck into the inn, but managed to get into her room! With her heart leaping into her throat, she opened the note.

  Dovey Pie,

  Oh, how hollow your chamber is. I always wondered what it looked like. It must be cold all the way up here, all alone at night. Do you get frightened, Melody? Are you growing scared? Fear not, sweet pet. Remember how I said I would help you warm those bedsheets? Perhaps I will—very soon. Just before your night falls silent. How still the inn will be after I…

  She couldn’t read anymore, tears blurring her eyes. The rest of the letter was explicit and graphic, listing all the things Obadiah longed to do to her and creative ways to kill her once and for all. While Melody had been nervous and offended before, she had never been so utterly terrified in all of her life. What was she to do? What if he came for her that very night?

  What if he is still in the inn?!

  “Melody…” a male voice cooed from behind her.

  She let out a shrill, bloody scream.

  Chapter 20

  Zachariah jumped at the sound of her shriek. She spun around, her chest heaving and arms shooting up to shield herself. Concern gripped him like it never had before. She eased, only so slightly, when she finally recognized him. Then, if only to shatter his heart more, the woman broke down in painful, retching sobs. He was next to her in an instant, setting down the box before folding her into his arms.

  “There, there,” he whispered. He knew it wasn’t appropriate for him to hold her in such a way, but what was he to do? He couldn’t just stand by and watch her cry her eyes out!

  Darn social customs.

  Ever so gingerly, Zachariah soothed her hair. It was so long, trailing down to the middle of her back. He held her as she cried, waiting for her to at least catch her breath before he spoke again. “What is the matter?”
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  She sobbed some more before she finally pulled back. With immense gentleness, he helped her sit on the bed. It was then she produced a letter. He eyed her before finally peering down to the paper. His jaw dropped as he read the grotesque and vile things depicted in the ink. Anger, fear, and panic burned his innards.

  “It was on my pillow,” she said through her tears. “It must have been left during dinner.”

  “It’s Obadiah, isn’t it?”

  She nodded, lip quivering. “He’s been leaving us awful notes since he was banned. I figured he would get bored of it eventually. He’s never came in like this, or said such disgusting things. I thought I felt violated when he touched me—”