A Damsel for the Mysterious Duke_A Historical Regency Romance

by Bridget Barton

  Take the very greatest of care, Mama, and please do write back to me as soon as you have the chance of it.

  With much love,

  Your loving daughter,

  Georgina.”

  It had been Fleur’s idea not to give too much away in the initial letter, stating that the white lie of not having approached Sammy White was a necessary one. After all, it was still not clear how much Georgina’s mother knew, or how much she might be bound to reveal of her daughter’s own findings to a third party.

  As soon as Felix’s butler had handed Georgina her mother’s letter at the breakfast table, Fleur’s eyes had been wide with excitement.

  The moment that Georgina excused herself from the breakfast table to make her way upstairs, she knew that Fleur would not be far behind.

  Instead of opening the letter immediately, she waited on the window seat in Fleur’s room, knowing that her cousin would be there at any moment. She had been so helpful that Georgina would not start without her but would read the letter aloud so that they could both hear it for the first time together.

  “Goodness me, I had gone to your chamber, my dear,” Fleur said, clearly out as breath as she bustled into her own room. “What does it say? Does she say anything about Sammy?”

  “I have not opened it yet, Fleur,” Georgina said with a laugh and held the unopened letter aloft. “I would not have started without you.”

  “Oh good, but you must open it now,” she said, still breathing hard as she took her seat in the window next to her cousin.

  “Right, let me begin,” Georgina responded, full of excitement as she broke the seal.

  “My dearest Georgina,

  I am glad to hear that your health progresses and am bound to say that I cannot wait until you return home here to Ashdown Manor. I have missed you greatly, my child, and the house does seem terribly quiet without you.

  I am glad that things go well with your cousins and that you are so very comfortable at Winton House. Please do convey fondest regards from myself and your father as soon as you have the opportunity, my dear.

  I will tell you honestly that your father and I are both very well, enjoying the warmth of early summer and the fortune of great health.

  Now that the formalities are done, I shall get to the information that I know you are keenest to hear. I will tell you what I know of Sammy White but beg that you never discuss it with your father, for he has not authorized me to reveal what I am about to tell you.

  I must first beseech you not to approach this man in any way, whether he truly is Samuel White or not. I cannot say that he is dangerous in any way, only that I do not exactly know which people surround him, or even what sort of person he might have truly hailed from in the first place.

  I think you must already be reasonably aware that your grandmother had the fullest of information, information that she never parted with as far as I am aware. I am bound to say that I do not know where Samuel White came from all those years ago, except to tell you that he arrived at Ashdown Manor as a tiny baby. Up until the moment he was taken from our house, it is true to say that the child had never known another home.

  But I am also bound to say that his appearance was most suspicious to me and very likely to your father, although he never spoke of it. He was, and likely even now still is, under the spell of your grandmother. He grew up in such circumstances that taught him never to ask her anything or to question her motives but once.

  I believe that he holds fast to that to this day, although it is quite subconscious, I am sure. Still, that is business for your father and me to conclude one day and nothing for you to concern yourself with.

  Suffice it to say that your father did not question the sudden appearance of this tiny baby. And your grandfather had already passed away by then, leaving your grandmother the head of Ashdown Manor in all but name. Whilst your father was the new baron, it was clear that the old Baroness would not relinquish the reins of her control until the day she died.

  And I am not ashamed to tell you that when that day finally came, I could feel nothing in my heart but the deepest rejoicing, for my life was made miserable by that dreadful woman, and I think it is only that which causes me now to open my heart to tell you everything that I knew.

  When Samuel White first came into our home, he was carried in your grandmother’s arms. There was no other person with her, and she simply asserted that she had been approached by one of the guardians at the orphanage in Hatfield, Hertfordshire. It was a man she claimed to be familiar with, a fundraiser who had persuaded her to part with much money over the years for the upkeep of the orphans.

  I am bound to say that that was the first I had heard of it, for I had always assumed that your grandmother did not have a charitable bone anywhere in her body. Even now, I am not convinced that what she told us was true, quite the opposite, in fact.

  Anyway, it was your grandmother’s assertion that there was no room for this tiny baby at the orphanage in Hatfield and that she had been asked to take him in and have him raised below stairs as a servant to give him a chance in life.

  I cannot believe for a moment that your grandmother would have done anything but scoff at such a request from anybody, and the harsh manner in which she carried the child led me to believe that she did not have a moment’s feeling for him at all.

  She handed him down to the servants immediately and charged them with the raising of him. After that, she never seemed once to enquire after his well-being, and he only came to her notice again years later when you and he became little friends.

  I was surprised to find that she was quite so vehement in keeping you away from him, especially when she had been the person to bring him to us in the first place. And yet I was not, perhaps, quite so surprised to find that she had no care for him, for I do not ever remember witnessing her care for anybody, even her own son.

  She truly was the hardest of women, and I only ever remember her talking of somebody fondly when she spoke of her formative years in Devonshire. Even then, it was not to speak of her family but to speak of her friend Beatrice Ellington, or Beatrice Montgomery as she became.

  After so many years had passed, Samuel White was merely another servant to me, if I am honest. I had long since stopped wondering at his origins and accepted that he was there at Ashdown House to work as a servant for the foreseeable future, perhaps even for the rest of his life and ours.

  And then, just a few short months after your grandmother had passed away, your father and I were awoken in the night by a man who had found a way into Ashdown Manor without making himself known.

  To this day, I do not know how the man made his way in; the first I was aware of him was when he stood at the foot of the bed in which your father and I slept.

  Even now, ten years later, I cannot think of the thing without breaking out into a dreadful cold sweat, and I suffer the most awful palpitations in my heart. I had truly thought that he had meant to do us harm, and when he spoke to tell us that we were in no danger, I did not believe him for a minute.

  He told your father to make his way silently below stairs and retrieve the boy known as Samuel White. He was to do so without waking any of the servants, and he was to see to it that the boy did not make any fuss himself.

  The implication was that if your father did not comply entirely, I would befall some misfortune in our own chamber.

  However, the man, whose name I do not know and do not care to, merely told me to make my way downstairs with him to meet my husband and Samuel White in the entrance hall when they returned from below stairs. I did as he requested, of course, and we had just arrived at the bottom of the stairs when your father arrived with Samuel.

  I can remember it all as if it were yesterday; it was so strange and so shocking to have been woken in such a way.

  After the man had put Samuel into his carriage and demanded that he remain quiet, he returned to us and told us that we must never look for the boy again.

  Your father said that
he would have no reason to, given that Samuel White was just a servant and nothing more. But I had a terrible tugging at my heart and wondered what was about to become of the child. Servant or not, he was so young, and I had a sudden urge to protect him.

  I think that the man could see it, for when he spoke again, he addressed me rather than your father. He told me that we should simply assume that the boy had run away, saying nothing to the servants or any other family member about what had transpired that night.

  He said that if we spoke out of turn or made any moves to track the boy, we would be all the sorrier for it, for his employer was extraordinarily powerful and certainly much more powerful than a Hertfordshire baron could imagine.

  I am ashamed to say that that was enough for me. I was afraid of this man and his employer, whoever that might be. And I believed that we would come to some harm if we did not accede to his wishes.

  That is why I must insist that you do not approach this man, even if you do believe him to be Samuel. I would beg that you forget him and take all that I have told you to be as much truth as I have. Now that must satisfy you a little, must it not? I live in the hope that it will be enough to keep you from delving any further into the matter, or else I will have to insist that you come home immediately.

  I will expect a response from you as soon as you can give it, for I shall not rest until I have your word that you will make no further inquiry in this regard.

  And you must absolutely assure me that you are taking good care of your health, or I shall ride to Devonshire in the carriage myself and collect you.

  In all other respects, my dear, take the very greatest care and, as I have already said, pass on my fondest regards to your father’s cousin.

  With all my love my dear child,

  Mama.”

  “Good heavens!” Fleur said, her mouth hanging agape.

  “So, you were right, my dear. My grandmother was at the root of this, although I had never suspected that she was so greatly involved. Just imagine her carrying baby Sammy into the house with such a ridiculous explanation for his presence.”

  “I am bound to say that it is little wonder that your mother despised her so. But it is also little wonder that your mother and father did not question it, for your grandmother does sound like the harshest of our sex.

  “Well, it is a starting place, and a very great one. But what are we to do with this information?” Georgina looked helplessly at Fleur.

  “We will spend the day here at Winton House in tea and conversation and little walks, and we will talk it through. The more we discuss it, the more it will become clear to us what move to make next, will it not? You must have faith, my dear. You are very clever indeed, and I have no doubt at all that you will be able to make sense of it sooner or later.”

  “Thank you, Fleur,” Georgina said and patted her cousin’s hand. “But I am sure that I could not do it without you by my side.”

  “Then I shall not leave your side, cousin.”

  Chapter 14

  Georgina was in the morning room re-reading her mother’s letter the following morning when Mirabelle came in quite unexpectedly.

  Georgina smiled and nonchalantly folded the letter as she looked up at her great aunt.

  “How are you this morning, my dear?” Aunt Belle began and narrowed her eyes as she studied Georgina’s face.

  “I am very well, thank you. I am just re-reading my mother’s letter and intermittently staring out of the French windows at the beautiful lawn. It is a most peaceful room, is it not?” Georgina said in the hopes of keeping her great-aunt diverted.

  “Yes, it is very peaceful. A very good room for thinking and planning.”

  “Planning?” Georgina said and raised her eyebrows innocently.

  “My dear girl, I am old, but I am not entirely devoid of my senses.” Mirabelle made her way further into the room and lowered herself slowly down onto the couch opposite Georgina.

  She had a wonderful, doughy sort of face which was heavily lined in honour of each and every one of her years. Her eyes were small and shrewd, and the only thing about Great Aunt Belle which reminded Georgina of her own grandmother. Mercifully, there the similarity ended.

  “Forgive me, Aunt Belle, I had not meant to offend you in any way.”

  “I know you have not, that is why I have chosen to help you, even though I know you will not tell me what all this desperate searching is about.”

  “Desperate searching?” Georgina could hardly believe that she and Fleur had been found out already.

  Surely, they had not given themselves away to such a degree.

  “You are trying to uncover some great mystery, I have no doubt. And if it has something to do with my sister, then I wish you luck with it, for she was the most secretive and underhand person I have ever met in my life.”

  “Yes, I am starting to believe that that is true,” Georgina said, sighing and realizing that she would have to be as honest as she could without giving away Sammy or his secret. “Aunt Belle, I wish I could tell you.”

  “But you have told Fleur, and your mother has something to do with it,” Mirabelle said and smiled. “Do not worry,” she said and held up a placating hand. “I am not about to cry that I am not allowed in on the secret too, for I can see that it pains you not to tell me.”

  “In truth, it does pain me, Aunt Belle. I like you very much, and I would not seek to mislead you in any way. But I have promised to keep the secret of an old friend and to help that old friend at the same time. But I am afraid that I cannot provide that help without asking questions, for there is no other way to get the bottom of things. Forgive me.”

  “You do not need forgiveness, my dear, for I can see that you have been entirely honest. I believe what you say, and I believe that you are most earnest in your determination to help your friend. But whatever it is, please promise me that it will not be to your own detriment to help. I would not like to see you put yourself in any trouble for somebody else, however much of a friend they might be to you and you to them; do you understand?”

  “I promise, Aunt Belle.”

  “I had realized the moment that Fleur scampered up the stairs after you when you had received a letter from your mother that there really was something to my little suspicions. And I knew immediately, of course, that it must be to do with my sister, especially after the two of you had so inexpertly questioned me just days before.”

  “I really am so terribly sorry for the subterfuge, Aunt Belle.”

  “I know my dear, and I know that whatever you are doing, it is with the best of intentions. You had not been here long at Winton House before I discerned that you were by no means your grandmother’s grandchild. I can only think that you must take after your mother to some degree, although there is a little something of the old Allencourt spirit about you. Still, you are your own person, and I find I like you very much. For one thing, it is clear that you know how to stand up for yourself, even against an old lady like me. But then I have no doubt that you had greater hurdles to overcome with your own grandmother back in Hertfordshire, did you not?”

  “She was a most formidable woman, Aunt Belle, and far from caring. I cannot say that there was ever any true sympathy between us, even though I only knew her as a child myself. The atmosphere at Ashdown Manor was always greatly strained when she was alive, and that old sentiment seems to reappear whenever her name is mentioned, even all these years later.”

  “Well, just be careful that Fleur does not give you away. She would not do so intentionally, but she finds it very hard to hide what is in her heart. I can certainly always see it on her face, as I saw the raw excitement yesterday morning when she clumsily excused herself from the breakfast table to follow you upstairs. She is a wonderful child, a most caring little creature, but she wears her heart on her sleeve, and I think it would be a good thing if you counseled her in the art of doing otherwise. Not only will it help you now in your quest, but I am sure that it would help my dear Fleur in th
e art of life.”

  “I shall do my very best,” Georgina said and smiled.

  “I thought you would say as much.” Mirabelle nodded thoughtfully. “Which is why I have chosen to help you, even if I am to remain in the dark like a cactus in the winter.” She laughed.

  “Help?” Georgina said hopefully, her pretty smile broadening.

  “Yes, help.” Mirabelle shrugged expansively. “When you return to your chamber in what I hope is a most sedate fashion, it will be to find an old keepsake box that once belonged to my sister. It is full of correspondence from her youth. I do not know how much assistance it will be to you, but it might give you some insight into whatever conundrum it is you are trying to solve.”