The Reluctant Duke

by Blaise Kilgallen

  Caroline was submerged up to her shoulders in delightfully hot water while Daisy proceeded to wash her abundant tresses with rose scented soap. Caroline relaxed, but there was still the unknown to face.

  As if she were reading her mistress's mind, Daisy asked, “And what happened to Their Graces' son, Joshua, milady? Wasn’t he with them? Is he following behind?”

  “Oh, Daisy, we don’t know what happened to him. We just don’t know,” Caroline repeated. “Lorena thinks Joshua was still in the boat and wasn’t dumped overboard like she and James were, but James doesn’t acknowledge there is anyone belonging to the family named Joshua.”

  She met her maid’s eyes, and Caroline’s sad expression showed her concern. “Oh, it’s so sad, Daisy, and so awful for poor Lorena, not knowing.”

  Daisy’s face mirrored Caroline’s. “’Tis a terrible shame, milady.”

  “I only hope Doctor Swinton can cure James’s problem.”

  * * * *

  Doctor Swinton made a physical examination of both Lorena and James. He declared them both underweight, but other than the time spent in Ireland, they seemed to have suffered no serious ill effects.

  It was Lorena that brought up the problem of James's memory loss and seemingly, its partial recovery.

  “A blow to the head such as you describe, Your Grace,” the physician said, his comments directed to James, “could bring on your inability to remember the past. But I’m curious, however. When were you aware that things were coming back to you?”

  “Not too long after Caroline and Antonio rescued us,” James answered. “It seems as soon as I was away from the White Whale pub and treated as I was used to being, I began to feel like myself again. I can’t tell you the overwhelming satisfaction I had while remembering things. I can only describe it as being locked behind a thick door that suddenly closed and wouldn’t open. Everything that went before, everything I knew, was suddenly wiped from my mind. Those few hours in Scotland’s chill waters were all I remembered clearly. Sometimes I thought I’d found a key to unlock the door, but then it would slam shut again. I remembered the present, but nothing of my past. It's been holy hell to live like that, I can tell you, Doctor Swinton.”

  “You both are otherwise home safe…ahem…I take it? Just the two of you?” the good doctor asked, eyeing Lorena.

  Looking guardedly at James and back at the physician, Lorena replied. “Yes, just us, Doctor Swinton.” She closed her mouth, fearing to excite James's angry reaction another time, while she demonstrated an almost invisible negative shake of the head.

  The physician noticed the look Lorena directed at her husband after hearing his inquiry. The duchess hadn’t elaborated, however, and he wondered at the significance of that, but said nothing further. The physician thought it best not to question the duke about the boy’s drowning. Anything might upset the duke’s fragile memory.

  “Well, Your Graces, I see no further need of my services at the moment. I’ll want to check on you both that everything progresses nicely in the future. Naturally, you may call on me whenever you have a need.”

  “Indeed, Doctor,” James replied. “We plan to spend a few days at Westhaven.”

  “That should be no problem, Your Grace. I hope I may schedule another visit soon, however.”

  Lorena trailed after the physician as he took his leave from the duke’s bedchamber. “I’ll show you out, Doctor Swinton. I’d like you to recommend something to hurry the cure for my unsightly, chapped hands.”

  Swinton turned and said, “Good day, then, Your Grace.”

  James nodded.

  The physician left with Lorena at his side, shutting the door behind them. She hurried him farther down the hallway.

  “Oh, Doctor Swinton, there’s more that isn’t right with James,” she explained anxiously.

  “Whatever do you mean, Your Grace? The duke has lost weight, and there is still the problem of memory loss, but…”

  “But that's not all of it,” she added in a hushed whisper. “James won’t acknowledge that we have a son—Joshua! He denies having heard of such a person. Oh, Doctor Swinton, why is he doing this?” she whispered frantically, trying not to cry, pressing a balled handkerchief to her mouth to smother her fright.

  “So, that's it. I wondered why he… But tell me first. Where is Joshua?”

  “I don't know. He wasn’t in the water with us when we were rescued. I think…I hope…he wasn’t cast overboard as we were. Caroline, who read the story in the London Times, told me that our small boat was found days later a short distance up the coast from Ayr. But the sailboat was empty. I feel that Joshua is out there somewhere, Doctor, still alive. Perhaps, in Scotland. I want to begin a search for him, but I can’t do so if James refuses to acknowledge he even exists.”

  “There, there, Your Grace, your husband can’t deny Joshua forever. There are too many people who’ve seen the boy and know that he’s your son.”

  James had been heavily involved in the House of Lords. He and Lorena spent much of their year in the Metropolis and removed to Westhaven only on holidays. The doctor had treated Joshua when the boy suffered from a childhood illness while they lived in London.

  “James will come to that realization in due time. It’s best we don’t press him about it. He’s just beginning to adjust to his memory recovery. I wouldn’t want to do anything to hinder that. Perhaps, as he regains those lost memories, he’ll acknowledge Joshua is part of them.”

  “Oh, Doctor, do you really think so? Do you?”

  “We can only wait and see, Your Grace. The mind plays strange games sometimes.”

  Lorena wasn’t happy about his remarks. “I suppose I’ll have to abide by your advice, Doctor Swinton,” she agreed half-heartedly. “In no way do I wish to upset James's recovery. But I’m so worried…and anxious to find Joshua.”

  “I understand, Your Grace. Perhaps we’ll see a change the next time I examine your husband.” He paused briefly. “Oh, Your Grace?” He wrote something on a small pad. “Send this to your apothecary. The potion will treat the red, inflamed skin of your hands.” He smiled. “I’ll be in touch in a week or so. Contact me immediately should something new occur.” He bowed and said, “I bid you good day, Your Grace.”

  Putting on his hat, the doctor descended the stairs to the street and climbed into his carriage. “Thank you,” Lorena murmured, watching his departure with worried eyes.

  * * * *

  Antonio's conference with Phineas Marble proceeded as he anticipated. The title and everything else would revert to James since he was the true duke. It would take time for verification and paperwork to reestablish James’s claim, but Marble had no doubt that James would be reinstated quickly. Especially since Antonio wanted none of it and wouldn’t contest his cousin’s claim.

  Antonio yanked the bell pull and summoned Morris to ask James to join them. When James entered the study, Phineas Marble jumped to his feet. “Your Grace,” he exclaimed. “I’m so glad to see you back.”

  “Marble,” James greeted him with an austere nod.

  Antonio said nothing, realizing James either had recovered his memory or was rapidly doing so. He hadn’t mentioned Marble’s name, and his cousin knew it. After the meeting he would question James how he knew the solicitor’s name.

  The three men took seats. Marble and Antonio reviewed the import of their earlier meeting with James, who had several questions. They were answered in an affirmative by Weston’s solicitor. Acknowledging that he, himself, could attest to James’s identity, Marble left, promising to get things moving rapidly.

  Antonio sat behind the large desk while James strode to the windows and gazed out over the side garden. Antonio appraised his cousin's revitalized appearance. The Weston servants had found clothing in the mansion's storage rooms. Dressed in the attire of a gentleman again, James looked every bit the duke. His hair had been barbered and he had been given a close shave, and although his clothing hung somewhat loosely on his frame, James’s carria
ge and demeanor now reflected his rank.

  “James,” Antonio addressed him. “If I don’t mistake it, you’re remembering things.” It was a statement instead of a question.

  The nobleman turned from the windows and faced his younger cousin. He sighed with satisfaction. “Yes, it seems so, Antonio. I question the reason why, but…yes. I knew Marble immediately. And there are more things, too. I remember this house…you’ve made very few changes, Antonio. Why is that?”

  “That’s quite true. Nor have I changed anything at the hall except adding to the stables. I'm not certain why, exactly, either. Perhaps, if Caroline and I were to move in there…” He halted. “But we won’t be living there.”

  “Nonsense, Tony. You and Caroline are welcome to stay with Lorena and me as long as you wish. In fact, I want you to stay. There’s still much I need to remember.”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” Antonio replied.

  “Enough of that, Tony. I’m James, your cousin. There’ll never be formality between us,” he insisted. “My God, man, you saved our lives. I’m more than deep in your debt.”

  James sought the decanter of brandy and poured two fingers of liquid into crystal snifters, one for Antonio and one for himself. “Now, shall we drink to that?”

  They drank in silence until James spoke again.

  “Doctor Swinton gave Lorena and me a satisfactory bill of health. His sage advice is that we fill our stomachs as often as possible.” James chuckled. “He wants to see us in a week or so. In the meantime, Tony, I expect our business with Marble is finished unless you have other matters with which to attend here in London.”

  “No, nothing more.”

  “Can we go to Westhaven? I’m anxious to see what additional memories the hall may bring back to mind.”

  “As you say, James. When would you like to leave?”

  “It’s not yet that late in the day. We could be there for tea if we ask the ladies to comply quickly. What do you say?”

  “Yes, I'm anxious to get ho…” Antonio paused, realizing the hall in Kent was no longer his home. “Er, to Westhaven. We can be on our way after luncheon. I’ll alert Caroline.”

  * * * *

  Approaching Westhaven, both Lorena and Caroline were happily astonished as James pointed out landmarks and made note of the small hamlets through which they passed. Much was coming back and so rapidly, it seemed as if he’d never drawn a blank about his past.

  James heaved a sigh as the carriage turned through the great stone entrance pillars to his ancestral home. Four lathered horses trotted smartly up the long drive and were reined in before the impressive doorway of the mansion. A messenger had been sent ahead from London to announce the Thorndykes’ arrival.

  Almost as soon as the coach drew up, the front door opened and several footmen descended the steps to assist the Thorndykes. Belmont stood as rigidly formal at the door as he had ever been.

  James left the carriage first, helping Lorena down. They mounted the stone steps. To salve his dignity, Belmont didn’t allow any tears to fall. Living at Westhaven all his life, it was difficult for the butler to contain his feelings, seeing again the man he’d known since birth and who was thought to be dead.

  “Your Graces,” he rasped, emotion clogging his throat so that he could scarcely speak. Taking a hold of his composure, he harumphed and tried again. “W-Welcome to W-Westhaven Hall, Your Graces,” he stammered which was not like him at all. “We are, indeed, most happy to see you both back with us.”

  “Thank you, old friend,” James greeted him. “We’re very glad to be back.” Lorena favored Belmont with a radiant smile, patted his arm beneath his black sleeve and stopped in the center of the large foyer. Antonio and Caroline had brought up the rear. The Thorndykes stood in silence as James swiveled on his heels in full circle, slowly inhaling the familiar scents of his childhood home as wave after wave of recollection flooded through his consciousness.

  “Yes…I remember,” he murmured softly. Lorena squeezed his arm.

  Surreptitiously wiping his wet cheeks, Belmont, who had already received his instructions from Antonio's messenger, ordered the laden footmen where to deposit the baggage.

  Turning to the aging butler, Antonio asked, “Where is the rest of the family, Belmont? My sister and grandmother?

  “Awaiting you in the blue salon, Your Grace,” he addressed Antonio by habit.

  “Grandmother will be anxious to see you again, James,” Antonio commented as he led the way to the large drawing room. “We’d better not keep her waiting, or we won’t hear the end of it.” He chuckled, remembering his feisty grandmother’s scolds.

  A footman stationed outside the salon rushed to open the double doors and stood aside. The Dowager Duchess, Elizabeth, was seated on an ornate settee facing the door with one hand propped on her cane. She gasped audibly and eagerly reached out bejeweled fingers, letting go of the cane as James entered the room followed by Lorena, Caroline, and Antonio. James hurried to his grandmother, clasping her hands into his and kissing them fervently.

  “Oh, James, my darling boy,” Elizabeth cried, her voice filled with emotion. “I simply can’t believe it’s truly you. And, Lorena,” she reached another hand towards her grandson's wife, holding onto James with the first one. “Come here, my dearest, while I welcome you back, too.”

  The old duchess’s eyes filled with tears, her lips trembled with feeling. Lorena bent down and embraced Elizabeth. Meanwhile, the dowager fought to control her emotions, smiling somewhat wet-eyed around at all of her grandchildren.

  “Let me look at you.” Elizabeth frowned slightly. “You’re too thin, James. And you, too, Lorena.” Regaining her aristocratic composure, she snorted softly. “Well, we’ll soon take care of that.” Motioning to Briella, who stood to one side, she commanded, “Ring for tea, Briella.” Elizabeth sniffed again noisily and drew a lacey handkerchief from a hidden pocket in her gown. “We must feed these two often to bring them up to snuff.” She blew her nose with a loud squeak, not caring whether it was proper do so in front of anyone or not.

  Hanging back for the major reunion, Caroline and Antonio greeted the dowager. Caroline hugged Elizabeth quickly, and Antonio bent to kiss his grandmother’s outstretched hand as she turned her attention to them.

  “Ah, Antonio…Caroline. And how are the newly marrieds?” Not waiting for a reply, she went on. “I can see by looking that all is well. But, my! What excitement! You must sit and tell us all about it.”

  “Indeed, Grandmother,” Antonio replied, but before he could add anything further, Briella rushed over to embrace first her brother and then Caroline.

  “Oh, it’s wonderful to see you both again. We couldn’t believe the news when your messenger arrived. We can hardly wait to hear…”

  Antonio stopped her. “Briella. Wait, chica, you’ve not greeted your returned cousins as yet.”

  “Caramba! Tonio, I am so unhinged, I forgot my manners. You’re right to scold me.”

  She turned to Lorena and James who had been watching her embrace Antonio and Caroline. “Both of you—my cousins—please, forgive me…”

  “Lorena and James, may I present my sister, Briella Constanza Maria de las Torres Thorndyke, your other cousin,” Antonio finished with a grin.

  Remembering her grandmother’s deportment lessons, Briella executed a deep curtsy.

  “Briella, meet your English cousins, the Duke and Duchess of Weston.”

  Briella's eyes jumped quickly to Antonio’s face, his dark eyebrows arched against his broad forehead. “Caroline and I are no longer the duke and duchess now that Lorena and James have returned home safely, Briella.”

  James glanced toward his male cousin. “Tony, are you telling me that this lovely lady is that wild young chit your father brought to England with him? When was that? Eight years ago? You know, the young hoyden we couldn’t keep out of the stables?”

  Antonio glanced over at Caroline, telling her with a look that James was regaining his memory by le
aps and bounds.

  Not waiting for a reply, James turned to Briella and continued. “Briella, dear, you have your mother's exotic beauty. It’s wonderful to see you again.”

  Briella smiled then blushed at James’s unexpected compliment, already sensing she would like her English cousin.

  Lorena echoed her husband’s sentiments as she kissed Briella’s cheek warmly.

  A tap on the salon’s door announced the arrival of tea. Lorena and James spoke to the footmen by name as the large silver trays were brought in and set down on a low table in front of the dowager.

  After pouring tea for all, Elizabeth sat back and demanded to be told the story of the sailing accident, the whereabouts of James and Lorena’s missing months, and their subsequent rescue. In his first message to Westhaven, Antonio had warned Elizabeth and Briella that Joshua was not with his parents when they were found in Ireland. He also let it be known that James was having difficulties remembering his past, and that he refused to acknowledge the existence of his son.

  As Lorena began to tell the long, tragic story, Belmont knocked again. He stepped into the room and paused inside, raising his bristling eyebrows toward Antonio, a signal that he asked to speak with him privately.

  “Do go on with the telling.” Antonio arose and excused himself, exiting into the hall with the butler.

  “Excuse me, Your Grace,” Belmont began.

  “Belmont, I’m no longer duke now that James is back. You need not address me as such,” Antonio told him.

  “Of course, your lordship,” he replied.

  “That’s fine. Now, is something amiss, Belmont?”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, my lord, but a foreign post came for you while you were gone. I thought it might be of some urgency. I left it on your desk.”

  “A foreign post?” Antonio’s forehead puckered. “From Spain, you mean? Never mind. I’ll take a look at it right now.” Antonio strode quickly towards the book room.

  A letter lay on top of the thick pile of correspondence. But it was not from Spain. It was from India. Wondering what it could be, Antonio quickly broke the seal and began to read.