Romance: Detective Romance: A Vicious Affair (Victorian Regency Intrigue 19th England Romance) (Historical Mystery Detective Romance)

by Lisa Andersen

  Seeing that dear Francis was in quite a state, I laid my hand upon his arm. He clasped his hand over mine and looked at me gratefully. “Don’t you see, Francis?” I said. “You do not need to make me feel anything. I already feel as you do. I care not that we do not do things the proper way. I have lost all meaning of what “proper” means anymore. All I know is that when you took me into the library, into the gardens, into the woods, when we were together in my bedroom, I was happier and more content than I have been in all my days.” I stopped, breathless. My words were far too forward to be ladylike. Any man would shun me after such openness.

  But not Francis.

  He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a glistening ring. It winked at me in the torchlight. “I had to estimate your measurements,” he said. “I hope it fits.” He took my hand and slid the ring onto the third finger of my left hand. “There we go,” he beamed happily. “I knew it would fit!”

  I stared down at the ring, bemused. “Look how the light catches it,” I muttered. “But Francis, whatever is it for? You do not need to buy me gifts.”

  “It is not simply a gift, my love,” the Duke said, his hand upon my shoulder. “It is a symbol. A symbol of my love for you. A symbol of my commitment to you. We are to be married, if you will have me. My family will hate it, but to hell with them! I love you more than I have ever loved a single thing on this earth, and if the sky were to fall now, I would have you, and no other, in my arms. Marry me, Sarah.”

  Perhaps a nobler woman would have contemplated the position he was putting himself in. Perhaps a nobler woman would have sincerely thought about declining his proposal, to save the regard others had for him. But I was, and I am, a love-driven woman.

  I said yes, and he jumped across the table and brought me into his arms, cradling me like a child.

  Postscript

  It is the night before we tell our families and friends and associates as I write this, tell them of mine and the duke’s love. I have written this account so those who find it – whoever they turn out to be – will know the story of the unusual courtship of Sarah Archer and Francis Seymour, the Duke of Somerset. Undoubtedly there are those among you who would have him discredited. All I can say to that is, why? Why discredit a man who married a woman he loves? Far more deserving of discredit are the men who marry women they despise, and spend the rest of their lives making them miserable.

  Only the duke and I know of our marriage; tomorrow that shall all change. He has arranged a meeting. Father is to be there. I wish I could say the meeting gladdens me, but in truth the only gladness I feel is at the thought of Francis visiting me in my rooms tonight. I have worn this quill out completely and I do not think I can write anymore. When I began, the sun was rising; now it is deep in the night.

  I would write more, but there is a knocking at my door.

  He whispers my name. It is Francis.

  I must go.

  I must be with my love.

  The Devil’s Dance

  Bertrand Collins[PE2] Margrave-Bertie to his friends-looked at his reflection in the full length mirror and was quite pleased with the image that looked back at him. His official title was Lord Haverbrook and he had reluctantly made the unpleasant journey from London to his stately pile in Derbyshire. Bertie preferred life in London by a long chalk[PE3] and was happy that his elderly aunt resided in the Haverbrook estate. She looked upon it as her own and Bertie was happy to let her believe that as it kept her acid tongue under control. His London town house was elegant and close to everything he loved. Bertie loved theatre, art and most of all everything fashionable and the latest crazes. Aunt Agatha had sent word that she was ill and he needed to come and visit immediately. When Bertie arrived at the large and resplendent residence, it was to find his aunt in robust, good health and she desired him to make changes to the house in accordance to her wishes. Bertrand Collins Margrave was not amused in the least and had gone to bed in a fine, old mood wondering how soon he could return to London.

  The next morning he twirled in front of the mirror and took in the elegant riding clothes that he wore-tight fitting trousers and a short jacket with a smooth line across the waist and elegant tails behind. The waistcoat was blue brocade and the white cravat elegantly tied. The narrow riding boots accented his well-muscled legs and he thought to himself that Badger Timkins would not look half as fashionable. “Still be good to see the old boy again,” he thought and smiled as he thought about the surprise on Badger’s face when he rode up to the door. Bertie was, in fact, a handsome, young man and much pursued by the young ladies in London who had their eye on becoming Lady Haverbrook. He was tall for the times and stood at about five feet ten inches with dark, slightly curly hair that was currently cut in the latest style with sideburns and a great deal of hair on the top of his head. He actually didn’t need to make himself look taller but that was what had driven that particular fashion. He had dark, brown eyes that could look meltingly appealing and surprisingly, the man was toned and fit.

  Bertie left his manservant to sort out his wardrobe and went to visit his stables. He still kept a fine collection of horseflesh despite being away such a lot of the time. For that matter he kept a fine selection in London as well. He had sent word ahead for his favourite mount to be ready and the stable hand was waiting with reins in hand. Haverbrook slid into the saddle with easy grace and slipped a top hat onto his head. He knew he was riding through the woods and fields but still fashion was fashion and he donned the hat. He then set off at an easy walk until he was clear of the gates and urged the stallion into a gentle jog. Bertie enjoyed riding and settled to enjoy the ride to visit Badger. The way to his friend’s rather beautiful residence was through the land belonging to Lady Tupperham. The old lady had always let Bertie treat the land as if it was his own and he knew the way through her estate well. The track passed through woodland and then came out at some paddocks behind the stables. It was not far until he would enter Badger’s gates but suddenly he saw in the stable yard a young woman. She saw him at the same time and stalked, yes that was the word, stalked to the gate and shouted at him, “I say, who are you, riding through here? This is private land.”

  Bertie steered the horse in her direction and stopped in front of the obviously annoyed young woman. “I might ask you the same, young woman. This is the land of Lady Tupperham. You appear to be trespassing.” She put her hands on her hips and observed the newcomer with a look that told him she was not the least impressed by what she saw. “Lady Tupperham was my aunt. This is my estate and you still have not told me your name.” She almost but not quite, stamped her foot. Bertie slid from the horse and found himself face to face with the woman. It was not lost upon him that she was wearing a most up to date riding outfit in light grey. She was about five feet four inches high and did not step back as he stood in front of her. “Did you say ‘was’?” he asked. “Lady Tupperham. Did you say was?” he demanded again and the girl nodded.

  “Yes, sadly, my aunt passed away three months ago.”

  Bertie was taken aback. “Nobody let me know,” he said almost to himself and then remembered his manners. “I am so sorry to hear that,” he told her. “I am Lord Haverbrook from the next estate. I am on my way to visit the Timkin’s residence. Lady Tupperham always allowed us passage across her land.” The girl was not impressed and said that maybe he should ask permission in the future. Bertie was not used to treatment of this sort and felt a sudden rush of anger which was most unusual.

  “I most certainly will not,” he answered. “I will simply go the long way round-Miss?”

  “Caroline Carstairs,” she told him and held out a hand. “Aunt Mary left me the estate.” Bertie took the hand to shake and was unprepared for the jolt of lightning that shot up his arm and through his veins. He went on shaking the hand for some seconds and looked quite dreamlike. Caroline smiled for the first time and extricated her hand from his. �
�I have to go,” she told him and walked away, leaving him still wondering what he had just experienced. At the same time though she rubbed at her own hand as if the same sensation had happened when they touched. Bertie shook himself into activity and mounted his horse. Then he watched the rather elegant riding outfit with the delightful decoration on the rear of the jacket disappear into the stable yard.

  *****

  The beautiful façade of Badger’s house appeared in front of Bertie and the manicured gardens were as trim and smart as ever. Badger was a traditionalist and liked his place to look well groomed. The two men had been friends since childhood even though they were as unlike each other as it was possible to be. Bertie rode around to the yard at the rear and a man came out at a run to take the horse. Bertie took his tall top hat in his hand and strode around to the garden door where he knew he would find his old friend. The staff looked on in horror as he should have been announced but the man simply pushed open the door and announced himself. Badger looked up from the paper on his desk and took a second to realise who had appeared and then he leaped to his feet and rushed across. The two men threw arms around each other and jigged around the room like a couple of ten year olds. “Oh Bertie. What a delight. I did so need you to cheer me up.”

  “Me too, old man. My aunt had me trail up here on a wild goose chase,” Bertie answered and Badger pulled the cord that brought a manservant rushing to see what was required. Relieved that the master was not furious that his guest was unannounced, the servant retreated to find food and drink and the two friends sat down to catch up.

  “I must say,” Badger commented, eyeing Bertie’s extremely tight trousers. “Those are not pantaloons. They are very revealing.” Bertie stood up and did a sort of twirl around to display his up to the minute fashion. “You really do have to get up to date, Badge. These are all the rage in town.” Badger was not impressed because he was a fan of country pursuits and tradition. He laughed off his friend’s suggestion and asked if Aunt Agnes was well.

  “In rude, good health,” Bertie answered, “and as annoying as ever.” He paused. “But she never told me that Lady Tupperham had passed away. She was a great old girl and I never knew she had gone.” Badger nodded and said that it was sad. “The estate now belongs to her only living relative.”

  “I met her this morning. Caroline Carstairs she said her name was and told me I was trespassing” Bertie said with a wave of his hand and his friend laughed out loud. “Indeed the woman can be bold and she is unusual,”he smiled, “but is exceedingly pretty.”

  “I never noticed,” Bertie said dismissively and Badger laughed it off.

  “That I do not believe and you two should get on well. She is the most fashion conscious and up to date person you will ever meet.” Bertie looked at him incredulously and brushed the assertion aside. “How could she possibly be up to date stuck up here away from everything?”

  “Ah, but she has lived in London all of her life up till now. She has made some amazing changes to the house already.” Bertie was sceptical and said so but Badger was not to be changed. “I have been very nice to her but I know she thinks I am old fashioned.” Badger smiled at himself and Bertie said, “Well you are old fashioned. You were old fashioned when you were ten years old.” He clapped his friend on the back and went on to say that as he had come all this way on a wild goose chase, he would make some modernisations to the house. “There are some new items for the kitchens but-And he paused dramatically. “Have you seen the new flush away waste systems?” Badger Timkins gave a grin that threatened to split his face in two. “Well yes, actually, I have.” He was rewarded by the stunned look on the face of Bertie Collins Margrave and he laughed out loud with glee. “You see,” he added with a sort of flourish, “the young lady who has taken over Lady Tupperham’s house has installed not one but two in The Grange.”

  “Well I’ll be damned,” Bertie replied and sat down into a nearby chair with a sudden thump. Badger told him that Caroline had made other changes but it had only been three months and some things were taking more time. “She apparently wants the decoration to be like the top houses in London. Her clothes have come down specially and I hear that some of them come from Italy and France.” Bertie could find no suitable reply. Badger was pleased to have the better of his friend for once and told him that Caroline was an excellent horsewoman. “No doubt you noticed that she is also extremely pretty,” he finished and Bertie realised that he had indeed noticed that the dark, blonde hair and blue grey eyes were part of a slender and rather delicious package. He thought to himself but did not say to Badger that he also noticed that the riding clothes were very similar to the choicest apparel worn around the city. It was a lot to take on board and then he reminded himself that she was also arrogant and had ordered him off her land. “Humph,” was all he managed in reply and Badger was delighted. They sat and talked about other things that interested young men of the time and Bertie made an arrangement to go riding the following day. Badger had thought to include friends and make the occasion a bit more of a social occasion. His own sister would have been furious if he had not told her that Bertie was back in the area. Bertrand himself, took his leave and rode back to his stately home by the road. This took considerably more time but he had no notion to be caught trespassing again.

  *****

  Bertie arrived home and left the horse to be tended. He then threw the top hat on a chair and strode through the house to find his aunt in the sitting room that she used the most because it let out onto the garden. The garden was a source of delight to Agatha and Bertie wisely left her to make all decisions in that regard. He knew she would be there but stopped short in the doorway when he realised she was not alone. Sitting taking tea with his normally grumpy old relative was the new neighbour-Caroline Carstairs.

  “Ahh Bertie,” Aunt Agatha said “come and meet out new neighbour.” Bertie walked inside and said that they had already met. His aunt wanted to know how and Caroline stood up to meet Lord Haverbrook. “She held out a hand in greeting and said, “We may have got off on the wrong foot, Lord Haverbrook. It is lovely to meet you.” Bertie knew his manners and came across, took her outstretched hand and raised it to his lips. Once again he felt the jolt of excitement run through his body at the touch of her hand but nothing showed on his face. “Good day, Miss Carstairs. Let us start again.” She rewarded him with a radiant smile that lit up her features like a shaft of summer sunlight and Bertie Collins Margrave was stunned. For once he was lost for words and his aunt saved the day by telling them both to sit and take some tea. “Caroline has two wonderful attributes that you could do well to learn from,” she told him severely and he waited to be instructed with a good grace and kept his eyes on the visitor. His London eye told him that the afternoon dress she was wearing was straight from the capital city and she wore it with confidence and style.

  Aunt Agatha held a book and waved it in the air. “See this new printing system is making these books available to all of us and Caroline is introducing me to a whole world of reading.” Caroline joined the conversation and told him that his aunt was enjoying the books but in return was allowing herself access to her gardens and she was taking inspiration to create a garden of her own. Bertie too, enjoyed some of the new literature available and although they liked different types of reading, the three of them found the discussion relaxing and entertaining. Bertie felt comfortable and sat back to enjoy himself. In the end, his aunt directed him to take Miss Carstairs into the garden. “The gardeners will remove anything she might like to choose.” This was amazing in itself because his aunt was normally desperately possessive of her plants. He stood and offered the visitor his arm. “My pleasure, Miss Carstairs,” he said and led the girl out of the doors onto the terrace that overlooked his aunt’s pride and joy.

  Caroline Carstairs took the lead in saying that she had heard that he preferred to live in London and he told her that was indeed the case. “But Lord
Haverbrook, do you not desire to bring some of the London style and fashion to this part of the world?” Bertie had never given this any thought before and was surprised to discover that he enjoyed talking to someone about the things that could be brought up to Derbyshire. The conversation ranged from the latest books and magazines, clothes and activities to the household equipment that could make life easier for all concerned. The two of them were deep in animated talk and found themselves having walked slowly a long way from the house. “I am sorry. This is a long way for you to walk,” Bertie suddenly realised and was surprised when his companion laughed. “I love to walk, ride and in the garden, I like to actually work with the plants. A little walk will do me good.” She had turned towards him and they were suddenly very close to each other. Bertie took her face between his hands in a spontaneous gesture and kissed her on the lips. After the initial surprise, Caroline returned the kiss with a passion that surprised even herself. There was a sudden and complete connection between them and the kiss deepened and lengthened into something that neither of them expected. It was not that Caroline Carstairs had never been kissed but rather that she had never been kissed in a way that took her to another world. A kiss that sent her head swimming and leaving her knees quite weak. Bertie found his senses first and pulled away. “I am so sorry,” he stuttered. “I don’t know what came over me. Please forgive me for taking advantage.” Caroline looked at his face and the shock that the kiss had inflicted on both of them. She smiled that stunning sunshine smile and pulled his head back towards her. “I am a new woman,” she told him and this time she took the initiative and started the kiss. “I think, Miss Carstairs,” Bertie said in the end, “that we had better walk back to the house.” She laughed and took his arm and they strolled back in that direction, but both of them were still a little bit shaken by the intensity of the connection. Caroline brought herself to her senses and told him that she had a carriage and he found someone to go and ask for the vehicle to be brought to the front of the house. The couple waited in the extensive hallway until the carriage was brought around, and he helped the girl into her rather smart and up to date transport. “I enjoyed the walk and the company,” he said and she leaned forward and told him that she had felt the same. Bertie resisted the urge to take those delightful lips again and he told the driver to start the journey to her home. Then Bertie Collins Margrave stood for quite a long time on the steps of his stately pile remembering the feel of those lips against his own.