The Duke's Broken Heart: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Abigail Agar

  Bernard opened the door to Elizabeth’s bedchamber and walked in. He closed and barred the door behind him. She was unusually neat, Bernard thought, not knowing if that was good or bad.

  He peered under the bed, fished through her wardrobe – crammed full of gowns – opened every drawer only to shut it empty-handed. Her bookshelf was sparse, and it took no time at all to search there. Behind curtains, a painting, and cushions – nothing. Where did she keep her jewels?

  Bernard opened the door and walked across the hall to Elizabeth’s sitting room. The room was smaller, but there was some clutter. Next to a chair by the window was a stack of books knee high. He started there. Nothing.

  The writer’s desk opened from the top and stopped midway down when it was horizontal to the floor. The small drawers inside held ink bottles and small sharp knives used to whittle the point of a quill to make it sharp. Bernard closed the desk.

  The wall had a painting and a shelf with those God-awful figurines women liked. Bernard shook his head. Why did they pay money for those things? He couldn’t even imagine a woman like Elizabeth having them in her home. He thought they were collected by old ladies.

  He went to the shelf and looked at them more closely. One was different from the rest. It wasn’t as shiny, and there was no dust on it or the shelf it sat on. Bernard went to pick it up.

  When he grabbed it, it seemed to catch on something, and he thought he’d broken the thing. But it was anchored to the shelf, and when he tried to lift it again, it moved forward but not by much. He pulled it towards him. Something behind her curtain made a clicking sound.

  Bernard went to the curtain and swept away the fabric to see a square in the wall slightly ajar. He pulled it open to find a motley group of items that had only one thing in common, they needed to be hidden.

  He pulled out her jewellery, some money she kept on hand – thank you very much Elizabeth – some documents about her ownership of the townhouse, bank account information, and an old, well-worn journal. When Bernard took out the journal and opened it, a key fell out and hit the floor with a musical ping.

  Bernard looked down at the key lying silently on the floor between his feet. “You’re important to me aren’t you?” he said to the key and picked it up.

  He looked around. He would never hear Elizabeth before she was at his side with the way his hearing was right now. Quickly, he shoved the key and Elizabeth’s jewellery into his pocket and went to put back the journal. No, he thought, the journal might tell me where to find the lock that this key belongs to.

  He shut the door to the hiding spot, smoothed over the curtains, and checked the shelf of figurines. Everything appearing in order, he left.

  “Saunders, I’ve decided not to wait any longer. Will you please let her know I stopped by? I’ll probably come around tomorrow.”

  “Very good, Lord Bernard,” Saunders bowed then let Bernard out the door.

  Here is the hard part, Bernard. Get home and lock the door behind you before getting robbed or found by the mate’s friends.

  Tonight was Bernard’s lucky night. He made it home safely.

  ***

  Elizabeth was beyond furious. How could Bernard do that to her? She welcomed him into her home. If she thought he was desperate before he stole her things, wait until she got her hands on him.

  Merritt sat and watched her rant. He was just as furious Bernard did this to her, but his compassion crept its way out of the long, dark hole it was in and came to the surface. Bernard must be beyond desperate. He'd do what he could for Bernard.

  “Do you remember what was in there? I’ll go see Bernard and get it back. Sit down Lizzie and collect your thoughts.”

  She sat close to the edge of the chair, rested her elbows on her thighs, and laid her head in her hands. The tea she ordered moments ago was delivered.

  Merritt poured and passed a cup into her hand. They looked at one another.

  “Your friend could screw up a walk in the park,” she said quietly.

  Merritt nodded. “He has managed to get in way over his head, hasn’t he?”

  “You think you can get my things back?”

  “Yes. The sooner, the better. Let’s tackle this now. Once the pawnshops open in the morning, it will make it just that more difficult. You with me, Lizzie?”

  “Yes, let’s do this.” She breathed deep and took another sip of her tea. She closed her eyes and kept them closed. I had cash of 100 pounds in there. The jewellery I care most about was the emerald set you gave me, and my mother’s diamond ring.” She opened her eyes and looked at Merritt, “Do you remember it?” Merritt nodded, and Elizabeth shut her eyes again. “Sapphire and diamond necklace, the Ruby bracelet.”

  Elizabeth jumped out of her chair and peered into the hidden box. She pulled out some papers, shuffled through them, and put them aside. More papers. That was it. She sat down.

  “The only other thing taken was a journal written by Bennett Collins.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, Merritt, a journal Bennett kept. When I was taking a few things out of his townhouse, I ran across it and added it to my bag of treasures. I figured I would read it and blackmail him if possible. There was nothing in it blackmail worthy.”

  “So why was it locked up with jewellery and money?”

  “It came with a key that was thrown inside. I tried to figure out if the journal gave any clue to what the key opened. At first, I thought there may be money, but I quickly figured out that if there were once money there, he would have gambled it away.”

  “I think you’re right. If there was ever anything of value in the container that the key belonged to, it is long gone.”

  Merritt stood and pulled Elizabeth to her feet. He kissed her forehead. “Go to bed, Lizzie. I’ll be back later and give you a full report of Bernard’s wayward ways.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “ I’ll go to bed, but I know I’ll be awake when you get back. He really got himself in trouble this time, didn’t he?”

  Merritt left, and Elizabeth chose a book and readied herself for bed.

  ***

  Journal Entry – If my arms could reach to India, I would strangle that no good son of mine. Who does he think he is? First, he takes Collinswood away from me so he can pay down the loan. So what if we lost Collinswood? It takes too long to travel there anyway. Now he made an arrangement with the banks about MY townhouse. It’s mine !!!!! I need a loan on it to win the money back. How am I going to put money into those accounts if Phin closed them? There was no money in them, but I was going to fill each of those accounts with my winnings. How am I going to put back Mercy’s dowry if I can’t take a loan from the townhouse and win at Maggie’s? If Mercy doesn’t have a dowry when her season comes around, it won’t be my fault. It will be Phin’s.

  ***

  Bernard emptied everything in his pockets onto the sideboard then poured himself a large glass of whisky. It hurt too much to take off his coat, so he left it on and sat on the couch. He leaned his head over the top of the couch and let it cradle him while he closed his eyes.

  He woke up to the pounding of the door. Since dismissing his butler, Bernard had come to realize the man’s worth. He slowly rose and walked to the door at a speed used by a man twice his age.

  At the door, he stopped and waited. Bernard was just about to turn and go back to his whisky when a voice came through.

  “Bernard, I know you’re in there. Open up so we can have a reasonable discussion.”

  That was quick. He had hoped she would discover the box was empty in the morning. “Who is with you?”

  “No one. Open the door, Bernard,” Merritt said, sounding weary.

  Bernard opened the door, turned around and headed for the parlour, “Come in.”

  Merritt rolled his eyes, locked the door behind him, and almost beat him into the parlour.

  “Have a drink and take Elizabeth’s things to her. Tell her I apologize.”

  He helped himself to a drink, but left
Elizabeth’s jewels and money alone. “Look, Bernard, if you need them, take them. I’ll tell Elizabeth you already disposed of them.”

  Bernard talked as if the energy needed to do so was too much. “No. No. They really won’t do any good. It’s such a fraction of what I owe. I’m at the point where I’m so desperate I’m doing stupid things.”

  The curiosity of Bennett’s journal was causing Merritt to glance over at it time and again. He went to it and picked it up. “What’s this all about?”

  Bernard made a pfft sound with his mouth. “The woman you love? She had that locked up with her valuable stuff. I haven’t opened it but for one page. It seems to be the rantings of a desperate old man. As a young, desperate man, I cringed and put it down.”

  Merritt sat down with it, and the key fell into his lap. He held it up. “I think this is the reason the journal was in with the valuables. She originally thought the key would lead to something until she realized he was dirt poor; he already took out anything of value that the key fit.”

  Merritt sat down and leafed through the book. Vivid tirades of a miserable, desperate man looking for coin for his next card game. Merritt shook his head.

  “Is this how you feel. All he talks about is putting the money together for the next card game.”

  “Yeh. He about sums it up. I should read that journal to get a clearer picture of how pathetic I was. This experience with the mate came too late. He cured me. I have no desire to ever play cards again.”

  “What would you do, Bernard, if you could pay off the mate? I’m assuming you sold everything of yours with value?”

  “I have nothing. This townhouse has a bank loan attached to it.” He paused. “I’ve never thought about it really, but I suppose I would go somewhere else and start over.”

  “What of your title and all that comes with it?”

  He shrugged. “What of it. The King will bestow it on a loyal subject, or it will be absorbed into another title should the King want to reward someone.”

  “Could you start over here? Must you relinquish everything?”

  “Merritt, you know I’d become a curiosity, not welcomed in society but followed closely by it. No, I think a new start makes sense.”

  “Bernard, I have an idea. It’s probably not a good one, but I need to see. You have food?” Bernard shrugged. “I’ll bring you food in the morning. Don’t leave, and don’t open the door for anyone but me. I’ll come around the back. Make it look like no one is here.”

  “What are you thinking?” Bernard was sceptical.

  “Not sure. You think you have 48 hours?”

  Bernard shook his head. “I have no idea.”

  “Well, let’s find out. Follow me, and lock the door behind me. Blow out all the candles.”

  Merritt left to give Elizabeth her stolen things. He would keep the journal.

  ***

  “Thank you. I didn’t realize I was that low on food until I went to get something to eat last night.”

  Merritt put the box on the kitchen counter. “Elizabeth says thank you for returning what you stole from her. I won’t tell you what else she said before she said thank you. Suffice to say it wasn’t as conciliatory.”

  Bernard gave a short laugh. “No doubt.”

  “How are you feeling? You still look terrible.”

  Bernard touched his hand to his face, “I imagine it looks worse now that I’m turning mysterious colours.”

  “I wouldn’t go out for at least two days. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t go out at all if I were you,” Merritt said looking Bernard in the eyes. “Don’t light candles or a fire in the fireplace no matter how cold it gets in here. I’ll come back day after tomorrow when it gets dark with more food.”

  Merritt turned to go and stopped. He turned around to face Bernard. “We’re going to work this out, Bernard. Take heart.”

  Chapter 22

  “No,” Silas said.

  Phin closed his eyes and breathed deep, “Why not? You love doing it, and you’re good at it. I thought you would jump at the chance.”

  “Phin, you know I’d do it in a heartbeat. I don’t agree with why you want it.”

  “Silas, what difference does it make to you?”

  “It makes all the difference. A house party for every dippy droopy shrinking violet in London? No, I won’t do it. Find her yourself. Why don’t you take a little time? This thing with Charlotte just happened.”

  His voice loud and biting, Phin shouted, “So, you’re not going to help me, is that what you’re saying?”

  Silas shouted back, “I. AM. NOT. GOING. TO. HELP. YOU.”

  Mercy ran into Phin’s office. “What is going on here? You two are brothers, and you haven’t seen each other in years. Stop fighting, now.”

  Silas turned to Mercy. “Merce, listen to this, Phin wants to throw a house party for every 18-year-old mouse in London so he can propose to one of them nine days later.”

  Mercy snorted. “You told him no I hope.”

  “Yes, Mercy, I told him no. That’s why we were having a fight.”

  Phin looked at Mercy, gritting his teeth. “What, pray tell, is so wrong with that idea?”

  She gave him her best searing glare. “Where should I start?”

  “Yes, Mercy. Tell me,” Phin said, crossing his arms and leaning back on his desk.

  Silas went to speak, and Mercy lifted her hand, palm out to stop him.

  She also spoke loudly, “First, you’re going to be miserable by day two – you’ll be hiding in the bushes to get away from these girls. Second, not that that wasn’t reason enough, this is the absolute wrong time to do a search. You’re raw, your mind is muddled, and you’ll make a lousy decision based on all the wrong reasons.”

  Everett came in at that point. He stopped two paces into Phin’s office, looked around, and decided to forgo any sort of greeting. He stood frozen.

  Phin was now angrier than he had been since dragging Bennett out of Maggie’s. His frustration level was dangerous.

  He shouted again, “I told all of you when I came back to London that I want a nice quiet girl who will go to Collinswood with me and stay there, raising my family. I don’t want to be here in this ridiculous marriage mart, and I don’t want to wait around until Mercy gets serious about participating.

  “And you,” Phin pointed his finger at Silas, still shouting, “take nothing seriously. So, I want your help on one non-serious thing you do, and you say no.

  “And you,” he pointed his finger at Everett, “I told you five years ago to marry Mercy, and you said no. Here she is, beautiful and available. I want you to reconsider. You’re perfect.” Phin threw up his hands then looked around. He saw the glass of whisky on his desk, picked it up, and hurled it into the fireplace, missing but managing to hit the bricks above it. It shattered. Phin let out a satisfying breath.

  Everett and Mercy looked at one another then both looked at Phin. Everett cleared his throat.

  In a low voice, he began, “Phin, Mercy and I have been secretly courting for about a year now. You see us every day breaking our fast together in your parlour. We wanted you to know, but you kept pushing marriage mart men on her, and I got the impression you didn’t want me to have anything to do with her.”

  Phin had pools of tears in his eyes. “You should have told me. That is the best news I’ve heard in a long time.” He looked at Everett, then at Mercy, “Do you love each other?”

  They both nodded. He took out his handkerchief to catch his tears before they spilled down his face.

  “Mercy, start planning your wedding. Do whatever you want. I don’t care how big it is. You or Everett can keep me informed.” Phin hugged Everett then Mercy.

  “I can’t believe you hugged him first,” she said.

  “Oh, Mercy. How I will miss that mouth of yours. Although I don’t think I’ll have to miss it seeing as I spend as much time at Everett’s as I do here.”

  “You spend more time at Everett’s than you do here. Beli
eve me, I live here,” Silas said, rolling his eyes.

  “Ha,” Mercy said, hands on her hips. “How would you know? You spend more time with your mistress than you do here.”

  “Mercy,” Phin said sharply, and he turned to Everett, “Ev, you need to make her stop talking about Silas’s mistress. I find it incredibly unladylike.”

  Everett put up both hands, palms facing Phin, “I don’t tell her anything. It gets me in more trouble than it’s worth. Now, if you wouldn’t mind,” Everett turned to Silas and Mercy, “I’d like a moment alone with Phin.”

  When the door shut behind them, Everett poured two whiskies, and each took a seat in the chairs facing Phin’s desk. Phin lifted his glass, “Congratulations. I’m thrilled.”