Dawson the butler, transplanted from Taramore, notified her of the full availability of Rothford’s accounts for her personal use. Eugenia had no interest in shopping in London. The reason she had wanted to come to Town was to be with her parents.
She shook off her fatigue the next day and gladly took the new duke at his word, making significant purchases at each shop she chanced to visit. Eugenia couldn’t help but take her anger out on his pocketbook. On her return, she still felt at odds with the entire housing arrangement.
The staff had orders to keep her occupied until Edmund’s arrival. Eugenia could not, even if she wanted to, find her parents’ townhouse. To rent a hackney on her own would be out of the question, and she could not walk there since she knew nothing of this city.
Once again she was being held prisoner against her will. Only the keeper had changed, hopefully for the better.
Although her past with Edmund, when he was Franz, told her he could be trusted, Eugenia could not imagine his reason for keeping her detained.
She wrote to her parents, who must have finished with their business in London and returned to Langford House by this time, or perhaps they were on their way to Town at this very moment!
Eugenia directed a second letter to her Aunt Rose. The missive addressed to Earl Coddington’s country home Brookhaven, her aunt’s last known place of residence. Hopefully the message would be forwarded to her relative wherever she may have gone next.
With nothing more she could do, Eugenia waited, sitting on her thumbs.
Nearing the end of the week, a commotion drew Eugenia belowstairs one evening. Roars of cheer echoed through the house.
There she found the newly arrived duke surrounded by his staff, all tremendously surprised to see him. They thought him dead all those many years ago and were happy to have him returned!
After waiting at least twenty minutes, Eugenia was finally granted an audience by His Grace.
“I must have a word with you immediately,” Edmund said, motioning to her to gain her attention.
“I should say so.” Eugenia sighed indignantly.
“In the front parlor, if you please,” he called to her through the staff surrounding him.
“It’s about time.” Eugenia could not help sounding snappish, “and do not keep me waiting!” She headed directly to the parlor, anxious to hear what he had to say.
Edmund managed to free himself from his group of well-wishers and soon followed. He closed the doors behind him to ensure their privacy.
“I can’t imagine why you found it necessary to extend my discomfort. Why did you not have me delivered to my parents’ house as I wished? I do not understand why you had me brought here! Why do you continue to cause me distress? Do you have a good reason? Well, do you? Why don’t you answer me?” She glared at him, waiting.
“You haven’t given me a moment of silence to speak, my sweet.” He paused a moment. Probably to see if she could hold her tongue.
Eugenia proved to him that she could be silent, for not another word came from her lips.
“If you will remain silent and allow me my say, I shall explain the entire affair to your total satisfaction,” he assured her.
Edmund explained that the first order of business was to sort through the previous duke’s papers. Among the accumulation of documents there was a substantial stack concerning the family’s concerns. He searched for detailed information chronicling the more deadly and private enterprise of Thomas’ undertaking.
A list of accomplices would have proved most helpful to the authorities in apprehending the culprits. Alas it was not to be found.
It seemed that Donald Hamby, the Earl of Claremont, Mr. Joseph Foster, heir presumptive to Viscount Chelmsford, Mr. Randolph Coddington, and any of the others who happened to be involved with Thomas’ conspiracy would all escape prosecution.
Eugenia knew them to be guilty. How their actions could go unpunished was beyond her comprehension.
Edmund continued his tale. During his perusal of his brother’s papers he found the marriage document that united Eugenia in holy wedlock with T. E. Mallick, Duke of Rothford. He produced the document in question for her examination.
“This cannot possibly be legal.” The document looked familiar. It was the very same vicar’s scrawl who had sealed her fate with Thomas Mallick. “I never signed that. Furthermore, I never gave my consent.”
“It is not necessary. In Trevithin no one can write. It is customary for the vicar to register the couple’s names however he sees fit. In this case, with Thomas’ long name and title that followed, he saw fit to use initials.”
She glanced at the document and eyed the bridegroom’s name. “T. E. I assume stands for Thomas …”
“Edward,” he said. “However, the very same initials could also signify Terrell Edmund.”
“And who would that be?” She felt a chill trickle down her spine. Eugenia glanced at Edmund, who appeared positively granite-faced.
“I was named after our father. He went by Terrell. I have always used my middle name.”
Silence ensued again.
“What exactly are you saying?” She dared not blurt out what insane thought had popped into her head. In the first place, it would be impossible. Simply impossible!
“What I’m saying is I am T. E. Mallick, Duke of Rothford.” His face did not hint of a smile.
Nor did Eugenia’s.
“You’re not insinuating that we are married?” She nearly choked on her words. Eugenia could not have a second unwanted husband. She could not be in the same situation again.
He remained quiet and did not reply. Edmund simply stared at her.
“No! That cannot be.” She gasped.
“I’m afraid we are,” he said. “Man and wife. Until death us do part.”
Eugenia glared at him as if he were worse than the most detested person in the world. At that moment she almost wished he had gone into the ocean with his brother.
Eugenia shook her head from side to side, finding herself unable to utter another word. Unable to comprehend the full meaning of what this meant. There was nothing left for her to say.
“I’m afraid it’s all legal. Although I’m not quite sure how it can be.” He took the document from her trembling hand. “That is what delayed my arrival.” Then he stood as silent as she had been these last few minutes, in a calm that maddened her.
How on earth could he just stand there! Eugenia could not imagine that Edmund would tolerate his happenstance marriage to her. She was absolutely horrified!
To be married against her will was one thing, but to be then bound to a second unwanted husband was outside of enough!
“We could have the marriage annulled.” Eugenia wanted, no needed, to believe it would happen. She had to know all this could be rectified, and soon.
“Are you quite sure that is what you want? I do not wish us to act in haste.” There was an almost desperate quality to his voice Eugenia could not understand.
“Haste?” She simmered in anger.
He stepped away from her and straightened as if he were about to embark on a lecture or long discussion. “I thought that perhaps if we took time to—”
“This cannot be what you want … what either of us wants,” she interrupted. “I cannot see that I am behaving in any other way besides a rational one.”
A wry smile graced his lips. “I don’t think you would feel that way if you knew the entire truth,” he tossed over his shoulder. With that, he strode out of the room.
Truth? What other truth was he speaking of now? How many secrets could one family have?
That fortuitous afternoon, and it seemed as if it were the first one Eugenia had experienced in a very long time, she received a reply to her first communication to her parents. Her mother informed her that they had only just arrived in Town.
Eugenia immediately wrote to her mother, asking that her clever Papa should come right away, for Eugenia needed his aid to free her from this current
, horrible predicament.
She had thought Papa would have pelted over to Hanover Square on receiving word that his dearest daughter was distraught but, alas, it did not seem so.
It appeared these days she was finding it difficult to trust any man. Now it seemed she was married to the brother of her late husband, which in itself was scandalous!
What of her dreams of falling in love? It was what she had always wished for, dreamed of. The truth happened to be that she was in love with no one. Being a duchess did not make her circumstance any more tolerable.
Eugenia simply could not believe, after all she had been through these many weeks, that she was still away from her family and in such unfortunate circumstances.
Her only wish was to go home and run to her mama’s comforting arms. Eugenia had not always been understood but, after all, she was flesh of her flesh, her mother would not be so heartless as to turn her away.
For the next several days, Eugenia sought the refuge and safety of her rooms. She had not heard or seen from Edmund since the day he told her of their unfortunate predicament.
On the third evening Dawson called her down for supper as he had the previous two evenings of her retreat. Eugenia was far from hungry and wanted to share Edmund’s company even less.
“His Grace wishes me to convey to Your Grace his insistence that you join him for supper.”
Your Grace? If Dawson was calling Eugenia Your Grace then that meant the entire staff believed she was now the Duchess of Rothford. It wouldn’t be long before everyone in London would know.
“You may tell His Grace that I have no intentions of joining him.”
“In the event Your Grace does not wish to appear, His Grace has instructed me to inform Your Grace that His Grace will be happy to take supper in Your Grace’s sitting room.”
“What? Here?” Eugenia was outraged at the depths His Grace was willing to stoop. “Very well. Tell His Grace I will come down and join him shortly.”
What else was she to do?
Eugenia began her hasty toilette. How could she be expected to appear presentable if she did not have a lady’s maid? She, alone, could barely manage to brush her own hair, let alone style or curl it. Her gorgeous hair, in which she had always taken so much pride, was an asset only if Marianne, Katrina, or a capable lady’s maid could tame the tresses. Here she had no one. Then it came to her.
Perhaps she could simply repulse him. She hoped that a ragged appearance would make him reconsider their current marital status. It was certainly worth a try.
Eugenia brushed as much of the curl out of her hair as she could manage and tied it back with a ribbon. She rummaged through her clothespress, looking for the most dreadful frock she owned.
Drat her exquisite taste! Even her old ones were better than she wished to be seen in. She settled for a plain, simple jonquille frock with no embellishments.
Eugenia would make Edmund regret he had asked to share her company. She would display her most atrocious, repelling behavior and devise subsequent ways of causing him as much unhappiness as he had caused her. In a day or two, he’d be racing to be rid of her.
She waited in the parlor. Her heart leaped when Edmund appeared. And she hated to admit how very disappointed she had been in herself.
White cuffs and collar along with a gold trimmed waistcoat made a sharp contrast against the black stock and dark blue set of his evening clothes.
Eugenia could not help but think how much Edmund looked like Thomas. His dark hair, his dark eyes and, she’d almost forgotten, his dark heart.
Her memories of Thomas were not all bad. At the end he had treated her poorly. When she recalled their early days in Brighton, she found the more intimate moments they shared were quite unforgettable and very pleasant. He may have had faults, granted they were overwhelming in number, but she could not deny how he had made her feel.
Eugenia did not know how she could even think about such things now, except Edmund was so very attractive, so very … well, that was beside the point. She could make such a cake of herself when a handsome gentleman was about. For she knew he could not be trusted any more than his brother.
Edmund offered her his arm to escort her to the dining room. “How good of you to join me,” he said amiably as if she had done so out of free will and not from a threat.
“You didn’t leave me much choice, did you?” She placed her hand in his and tried to give him the meanest, hardest stare she could manage.
He ignored the barb and led her to supper. “May I compliment you on your choice of attire this evening? Fashionable, yet comfortable.”
Eugenia could not tell if he was serious. He was certainly going out of his way to not provoke her.
“I’m afraid I half expected you to want to go out tonight.” He pulled her chair from the table to seat her.
“Go out? In public? With you?” She was appalled at the very idea.
“I can see, my dear, that you have the presence of mind to not rush headlong into anything. It would be expected of us, I suppose, as a newly married couple to spend a certain amount of time alone.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “Especially in the early days of our marriage.”
Eugenia wrenched her hand from him, stepped back, tripped on the leg of her chair, and landed on the seat with an undignified plop. “The last thing I want is to be alone with you.”
“Well, I’m afraid it’s only the two of us sharing this large house. It cannot be helped.” He sat at the head of the table, took up his soup spoon, and began. “Hmmm, very good. You should try some.”
“I’m not hungry, thank you.” She pushed the bowl aside and displayed her profile.
“As you wish, my pet.” Edmund continued with supper. He did not allow her disinterest in food to deter him in the least. That wretched man!
Eugenia sat there and watched him eat course after course. She touched not a bite. How could he act so normal, so unconcerned, when she felt so miserable and suffered?
After supper he escorted her to the library to sit before the fire while he read poetry to her. It was a pastime Eugenia usually enjoyed but it was not an activity she would wish to share with him.
Again she pulled her hand from his before he could kiss it and without wishing him a good evening, she left for her rooms to retire.
Edmund was taking advantage of what he had learned about Eugenia when he was Franz. It was not at all proper. It simply was not fair.
What an insufferable, dreadful man.
Chapter 9
What was to become of her? Eugenia pulled off her dress, all by herself, and hung it. She pulled her wrapper on over her chemise and sat by the hearth in her room.
Trying ever so hard, Eugenia imagined she heard her mama’s voice, seeking comfort in what she would say in this hour of misery.
Eugenia should have paid more attention to her surroundings. For out of nowhere, or so she thought, came Edmund wrapped in a dark blue dressing gown.
“Good evening, my sweet,” he said. He tightened the sash around his waist.
Eugenia leaped up, rounding the settee to place it between them. “How did you get in here?”
“We have adjoining rooms as all married couples do.” He looked calm and quite smug about the entire thing.
“Adjoining rooms?” She scanned down the ornately decorated walls, looking for a hidden doorway. Her eyes must have been as large as saucers.
“Dear heart, I’m sure if you gave me a chance I could convince you that you do, in fact, love me.”
“No, you could not be more wrong.” She sidestepped, keeping him at the opposite end of the furniture, away from her. “I have no wish to be convinced.”
“Please, Genie, just one kiss.” He dashed around the foot of the settee.
“I do not want to kiss you.” She managed to dodge him. “And do not call me Genie.”
“You never seemed reluctant to kiss me in the past.” He smiled, reaching out for her arm. She darted away, moving out of his reach.
>
“Kiss you? I have never kissed you.” She felt completely confident in her declaration.
When he was posing as Franz, his powdered wig probably fit too tight. It must have affected his mind. It made him imagine things. She always knew that Franz held her attentions much too close to his heart. He must have had fantasies about her. Ones she did not care to think about.
“You most certainly did! It’s not something I’m apt to forget!” He smiled a greedy smile and moved toward her. “Actually, we have partaken in that delight more than several times.”
“I’m sure you are quite mistaken.” She made another escape around the end of the settee. Eugenia did not know why he continued to press the issue but she knew for certain that she had never, ever kissed Franz.
“In Brighton, the Old Castle Inn at the gazebo. I had only meant to kiss you lightly on the cheek. But you looked so beautiful, staring up into my eyes. Waiting, wanting more. I…I’m afraid I simply couldn’t help myself.” He closed his eyes and smiled.
His expression was quite sickening. How could he describe the actions of his brother? Edmund must have seen them together that night. How else could he have known?
“I would warrant to say you enjoyed it every bit as much as I, dear heart.”
“You posed as Rothford?” Eugenia was uncertain whether she felt more shocked or outraged.
“I need not pose. I am Rothford.” He stood straight, declaring it with pride.
“Well, you weren’t Rothford then!” She recalled how odd it was that he had returned and his behavior had been more amorous than only moments before when he had said his first good-bye. The reason for the change in Rothford’s nature, if he were telling her the truth, dawned on her. “You pretended to be your brother Thomas?”
“How else was I to discover where he had gone? Only you knew. And it appeared you were more than willing to disclose the information.” He took up her hand and stepped closer. “I thank you for your cooperation.”
“You purposely tricked me into telling you.” Eugenia could only stare at him.
“There was no deception. I had to find out where he was going. I did it to save a life. You knew what Thomas had planned. It was my responsibility to stop him.”
Lady Eugenia's Holiday Page 9
