'"Shall I bring the Duke's dinner to the pantry, madam?" enquired Earl, who was the manor's long-tenured butler.
"Yes, I suppose it is best. I do not know where he has gone off to."
"Heaven knows, madam,” said Earl as he took the Duke's dinner out of the room. Indeed, Heaven did know. In fact, so did Hell. It seemed that everybody in every town in every city knew of the Duke's inability to keep his penis between himself and his wife except for his wife. Perhaps it was blind trust, perhaps she was just a tad on the simple side, but for whatever reason, the Duchess did not find anything suspicious about her husband's mysterious absences. Nor did she find anything suspicious about the young girl who had been coming to the Manor several evenings a week for the past eight months for what the Duke claimed were lessons in fiction and poetry writing. The butler and all of the maids in the manor agreed that this was an extremely unlikely possibility as the Duke was not a talented writer. He had used his own money to finance the publication of a book of original poetry, which was panned by all those who read it. There was not a chance anybody would come to him to learn to write. Still, the Duchess gave the Duke her undying trust and would not hear a negative word against the man whom her father had handed her off too.
Unfortunately for the Duke, the husband of Marina was not quite as trusting as the Duchess. He was sitting on his porch when his wife returned home, rocking back and forth in his rocking chair and smoking what was left of his cigar.
"And where have you been?" he demanded when his wife stepped out of her carriage and entered their garden.
"I have been visiting with a friend in the town."
"Oh, I see, I see" he said, making it clear that he did not believe her. "And this friend, would he happen to be a young man by any chance?"
"I do not know what you're talking about, Franklin. It was Liza, Mr. Chapwick's daughter."
"Mr. Chapwick's daughter?"
"That is correct."
"And you are certain of this?"
"Quite so."
"Very well." Franklin allowed his wife to believe that his curiosity had been satisfied and did not stop her when she passed him on the porch and entered the house. Once she had closed the door behind her and he was alone again, he rose from his chair and told the carriage driver to drop the reigns of his horse and wait a while.
"Yes, sir?" the driver asked, opening his door and tipping his hat to the man who far outranked him by class but not humanity.
"Are you familiar with Mr. David Chapwick?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know his address?”
"Yes, sir."
"Very good. Journey to his home and inform him that Franklin Peers wishes to speak to him this evening. Bring him back here."
"Yes, sir."
"If he protests, tell him that the matter is urgent and requires his immediate attention."
"Yes, sir."
The wealthy old fool went on to promise a hefty tip to the driver if he could bring Mr. Chapwick back to his home in a short amount of time. A tip so hefty that the driver brought his whip cracking down his beloved horse hard enough to leave cuts and bruises on the stallion's back.
A half hour or so later, Marina was sitting alone in the study, idly flowing through the pages the Duke's ill-fated poetry book, which he had both given her and signed. While she loved the man more than anything else in the world, even she had to admit that he was an awful, awful poet.
"The leafs fall,
The hedgehog leaves its ball,
And the birds in the trees call,
It is Autumn, it is Autumn"
His work was horrendous, but she still forced herself to read it, as she believed it would provide her with an insight into the mind of the complicated man. Thus far, all she had gathered was that the Duke has strong feelings for autumn and was not particularly fond of Hull, a small port town that he had written five scathing poems about. The young girl was disturbed from her reading - or, perhaps, saved - by the entry of her husband. He stood in the doorway, his hands on his hips and his head held high, the short hairs on his prickly chin illuminated by the light of the lamp.
"Tell me again, my dear" he said, "where did you scamper off to today?"
"Why, I went to see Liza Chapwick."
"The daughter of Mr. David Chapwick?"
"The very same."
"Well, that is funny,” declared the munitions manufacturer with a tut.
"How so?"
"Mr. Chapwick happens to be here right now."
Franklin stepped to the side and David Chapwick entered the room. David Chapwick was as tall as he was large and the hair, which was missing on his head, was more than accounted for on his chest and arms, which were crossed. Marina was shocked, although she was not sure why she was. It was not beyond her husband to send for any man in the evening if he thought that man might be able to help him catch his wife in a lie. She knew there was nothing she could do to possibly save herself from the wrath of her husband. All she could do now was avoid mentioning her lover by name and hope that the Duke was spared.
"David?" Franklin asked.
"Yes, Franklin?" he responded, sounding a little rehearsed.
"Tell me, where is your daughter Liza on this evening?"
"Liza? Why she is in Ireland this evening."
"Ireland? Whatever is she doing in Ireland?"
"She was married to a British soldier earlier this year. He is stationed over in that blasted country."
''I see, I see. How interesting. Well, David, thank you for coming by this evening. Do stop by again." The two potbellied old men shook hands and bid each other farewell before David Chapwick exited the room and left the husband and wife alone with each other.
"Well, my dear" Franklin began as he walked to the middle of the room and took a stand before her, "it seems you have not been telling me the truth."
"Franklin, I do not know what to tell you." Marina spoke as if she were speaking to her father after being caught stealing his alcohol.
"Tell me the name of your lover,” he demanded.
"Franklin, I cannot."
"Tell me!"
"Franklin..."
"I said tell me his name!" The wild man grabbed his wife by the throat and pulled her to her feet. Being fifteen years younger and quite a bit smaller than her husband, there was no way Marina could get herself free.
"Who is he?" Franklin demanded again, tightening his grip but still unable to get an answer out of the girl. Marina began to drift out of consciousness, she could feel her life slipping away.
"Tell me the name of your lover and I shall spare your life. Continue to hold your tongue and I will kill you right here."
"Jasper" Marina gasped, finally accepting that she had to reveal the name of her lover if she wanted to continue living. Like any young girl, she found dishonour to be more alluring than death.
Franklin dropped her to the floor, which she hit with a thud.
"Franklin? Franklin who?"
"Franklin," she coughed, "the Duke of Halsbury." Unable to recover from her husband's attack, the young girl passed out on the living room floor, leaving him to stew in his anger.
"The Duke of Halsbury? That bastard!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, a yell so great that it caused the chandelier, which hung from the ceiling, to sway from side to side. "How dare he! How dare that bastard disrespect me! He is going to pay for this. I am going to report him to the Prince Regent. Yes, that will surely mark the end of that devil's time in high-society." Stepping over the body of his unconscious wife, Franklin left the living room and began to search for a piece of paper on which he could pen a letter to the Prince Regent, informing him of the Duke's affair. However, before he had the chance to put pen to paper on such a letter, the furious munitions dealer was struck with another, far more devastating idea.
"No" he said to himself as he eyed the pistol that hung on his hallway wall, "no a letter to the Prince Regent will not suffice. This is an extreme case and demand
s an extreme solution." With a horrifying grin on his face and equally horrifying thoughts in his mind, Franklin reached to the wall and retrieved his firearm. Several miles away, the Duke was stretched out in his bed, enjoying the life of a man with a clear schedule. He was completely unaware that his life was about to be drastically and irreversibly changed.
Chapter Two
"Open up!" Franklin yelled as he knocked on the door of the Duke's manor. "I know you are in there and I demand you come to the door." When the door did eventually open, Franklin very nearly delivered a blow to the face of the man who had been standing behind it. Fortunately, he managed to control himself when he saw that his knocks had been answered by Earl, the butler, and not the Duke of Halsbury.
"Can I help you?" the butler asked, unimpressed by the caller's impatience.
"I am here to speak to the Duke of Halsbury. I demand you bring him to me at once."
"I am afraid the Duke is unavailable at this moment, sir. I thank you for calling but I am afraid I shall have to ask you to leave." Earl made an attempt to shut the door but the long and wide foot of the munitions manufacturer acted as a rather effective doorstop.
"I am not leaving until I speak to the Duke" Franklin declared as he forced the door back open, "Now bring him to me this instant." The sound of the man's voice grew to a yell and he filled the manor with his demands. The Duchess, being quite well coached to mind her own business, remained in the living room despite the fact she had been worried by the disruption at the door. The Duke, however, was not one to shy away from conflict (providing he could remain in his manor with his guards close by).
"Earl, what is the cause of this commotion?" the Duke enquired as he descended the staircase, yawning and stretching and attempting to shake off the after-effects of his slumber.
"There is somebody here to see you, sir. I have done my best to get rid of him but he is adamant that he must speak to you."
"I see, I see. And who is might this caller be?"
"It is Franklin Peers" Franklin Peers announced, pushing his way by the butler and entering the hallway.
Franklin Peers? The Duke was not entirely sure who that was. Being an unhappily married woman, Marina always went by her maiden name and so he had never been informed of her married name. Not for one second did he suspect that this caller could be the husband of his mistress.
"Ah, what brings you here Franklin Peers?" he said finally, deciding it would be rude to inform his guest that he had absolutely no idea who he was.
"Duke, I do not think you realise who I am" Franklin replied, noticing a distinct lack of fear in the voice of the Duke. "I am Franklin Peers, the munitions manufacture."
Now the Duke realised that he was face to face with the husband of his young lover. The man who Marina had described as unstable, a gun wielding lunatic driven by nothing other than his own insecurities.
"Oh, Mr. Peers" he laughed nervously, hoping that perhaps the madman had simply popped by for a chat. "What brings you to my manor?"
"I think you are quite aware of my reasons for coming here this evening." Fearing for his life, the Duke began to slowly back up the stairs, trying his best to keep his anxiety hidden from his enemy.
"I would quite like to stay and converse with you" he told Franklin, "but I have rather a lot of business to tend to, so I am sure you won't mind if I reschedule our meeting for another day. Earl, please show Mr. Peers out."
"There is no need to fear me," Franklin assured the Duke, "I am not going to murder you." Relieved, the Duke wiped beads of sweat from his forehead and began to descend the staircase. Perhaps the munitions manufacturer had stopped by for a simple discussion after all.
"Pardon me, I should rephrase that" added Franklin as Jasper's feet touched the final carpet covered step, "I am not going to murder you just yet."
It was clear to the Duke that this situation was not likely to end with anything less than him losing his life. Earl thought this too and would have left the room to fetch the guards had it not been too great a risk to leave the Duke alone with the scorned husband.
"Mr. Peers," the Duke began, attempting to create the illusion of respect, "I am quite sure we can discuss this matter without the need for bloodshed. Perhaps we should relocate to my study and..."
"Silence, you scoundrel!" Franklin reached into his jacket and pulled out his pistol, which he pointed towards the Duke, making him scream and drop to his knees. "Calm yourself, you coward! I am not going to shoot you now, but tomorrow at dawn, I shall return to this place and we shall duel!" Terrified, the Duke was unable to find the words to reply and so was forced to indicate he understood by nodding his head at a speed so great he nearly broke his neck.
"I will see you then, sir," Franklin said before leaving the manor, "may the best man win."
Earl backed into a corner as Franklin passed his way but ran to the aid of the Duke once the wild man was a safe distance from the manor.
"Your grace, are you alright?" The butler took hold of his master and helped him slowly return to his feet. The Duke was trembling and his forehead was once again soaked in sweat. There was no need for Earl to enquire as to why Franklin had burst into the manor and challenged the Duke to a duel, it took very little thinking on his part for him to arrive at the conclusion that it had something to do with the young girl who had been visiting the manor for "writing" lessons.
"Water" Jasper whispered as he clutched the shoulder of his servant, "I need a mug of water."
Chapter Three
A little over sixty minutes after the incident to which we just bore witness had come to an end, the Duke sat in his study, still attempting to comprehend the situation.
"A duel," he said to his butler before repeating the words a second time to drive home the severity of the situation.
"I know, sir" Earl replied, handing the Duke a second glass of water, which he had no thirst for.
"What am I to do?"
"There is always the option of not accepting the challenge, sir."
"No, that will be of no use. I will be slated." Jasper ran a shaky hand through his shoulder length hair, which had greyed a great deal in the last hour. He was a sensible man and knew that it would bring a vast amount of unwanted publicity to the royal family if a duke were seen to back out of a duel. It was an irony of the times. If a man were to murder another, he would be praised and lauded as a hero, if he refused to kill, he was mocked and branded a coward.
"But surely it is better to be hated than murdered" argued the butler, who did not want to see the Duke slaughtered (mostly as such an event would leave him without a means of income).
"Perhaps for members of the lower class such as yourself, but I am a Duke. I cannot have the nation believing me to be a milksop." Rather suddenly, the butler was no longer concerned about his master being murdered by Franklin Peers.
Midnight was fast approaching, which meant dawn would soon be upon the land and the Duke would be forced to choose a weapon with which to defend himself.
"If you don't mind my asking, sir" Earl began, tiptoeing around the subject of his affair, "just what are you going to tell the Duchess?"
"The Duchess?" The cheating husband leapt from his chair in a panic. "Goodness gracious, I have forgotten entirely about the Duchess." The thought of his impending doom had worried him to such a degree that he had completely forgotten to factor his wife into the equation. How was he going to explain Franklin Peers' disdain for him to the woman with whom he shared his name?
"Perhaps I can keep this whole ordeal hidden from the Duchess,” he said after considering a number of possible options, which included volunteering his wife to duel in his stead.
"With all do respect, sir, that hardly seems feasible."
"And why not?" Jasper asked, ever the dreamer.
"Sir, one cannot leave his manor before the crack of dawn, duel and return without his wife ever realising."
"Ah, well you see Earl, the chances of me returning from this duel are slim to no
ne."
"Sir, please tell me that you will at least attempt to defeat Franklin Peers."
"Surely attempting to be victorious in the duel will only result in more embarrassment after my inevitable defeat."
"I do not understand how one person can care so little about his life. Especially a man who has been such a..." Earl ceased speaking in the middle of his sentence. His ears picked up and he listened for a moment before excusing himself from the room. Though the Duke had not heard anything, years of greeting and welcoming guests at the manor had made Earl's ears hypersensitive to the sound of somebody knocking on the manor door. Several minutes later, he returned to the room, followed by Marina Peers.
The girl, whose face was red from crying, ran to the Duke and wrapped her thin, pale arms around him. Though she wore no jacket, the young girl had walked to the manor from her home after being thrown out by Franklin Peers once he returned from his visit with the Duke. Her skin was close to ice and made the Duke shiver as he felt it against his hands and neck.
"Earl, I would appreciate some privacy at this moment."
"Yes, sir." Earl exited the room and Marina immediately began to cry. She buried her head into the shoulder of the older man - she had always enjoyed the company of older men - and attempted to stifle the sound of her cries. She so wanted to appear strong for the Duke in this trying time.
"There, there. Do not cry, my dear." He stroked her silky black hair with one hand and held her tight with the other. Somehow, the young girl had made herself the victim in this whole situation.
"Jasper, I am so sorry. This is all my fault."
"No, no, no. Do not be silly. You are not to blame for any of this."
"Yes I am" Marina insisted, "I am the sole cause. It was me who revealed your name to my husband."
The Duke's Dilemma: Regency Romance Menage Short Stories Page 11
