Romance: Regency Romance: A Lady's Powerful Duke (A Regency Romance)

by Matilda Hart

  “Well, Nathaniel,” Oliver said, placing it at the center of their table. “I’ve got something you can’t resist.”

  “Oliver…”

  “No objections, Nathaniel. Not unless you want all of these upstanding citizens of London to believe that their war hero is a… coward.”

  The duke began to argue, but found that his hand was already reaching towards the open bottle. Damn it, Oliver. You know me too well.

  Although the drink was his favorite, it was apparent to everyone that it was also the easiest way to get him drunk. And it did not take long for the beverage to loosen his lips enough for him to spill the truth.

  “So, dear boy. What is the story behind that little rag you always carry?” Oliver asked.

  “It’s… not a rag…” Nathaniel sputtered, hiccupping between words. “It’s a token… from one of my heroic rescues… my first one, in fact…”

  “Ah… the gratitude must have been very satisfying to you both, I’m sure,” Oliver said.

  “No… it wasn’t like that!” he said, pounding his fist onto the table. “She… she was special… A good woman… Nothing like the strumpets that parade around places like this.” The last comment earned him a scathing look from several barmaids nearby.

  “Interesting…” Oliver said with a sly smile. “You seem rather taken by this woman.”

  “I was…am still… in love with her… but don’t tell Selene…” he stammered, his head beginning to nod down.

  Sensing that his friend was about to be out cold, Oliver quickly asked, “Pray tell me, what was her name?”

  Nathaniel’s mind spun in a terrifying yet oddly pleasurable way. He was eventually able to utter, “Helena Rowe…” before finally succumbing to the absinthe’s darkness.

  The earl then called for a few of his servants to take the poor duke back to his home. Oliver, on the other hand, decided to stay for a while in order to determine what he could do with this information. He was not known as the “Scandal King of London” for nothing.

  Chapter 8

  21st of May, 1813

  Nathaniel woke up in his bed the next morning with a splitting headache. Looking at the empty bottle of absinthe that he still held in his hand, the man cringed. How could he have been so foolish as to drink this again? The last time he had indulged himself like this, the next few weeks had been filled with rumors about him seeing another man’s wife. Nathaniel was still unsure of how certain details of that were gathered.

  Groaning, he called for a servant to fetch him a glass of water as he struggled to get dressed. He was just thankful that there was nothing particularly important to do today. Only the Lord knew might have happened had he shown up to a House meeting in this condition. Perhaps it really was time for him to listen to his uncle’s advice and finally do something to improve himself.

  Then again, that was one of the reasons he had decided to start courting Selene. Though he knew that the Marchioness was not the most pleasant person in some instances, she truly was one of the few noblewomen without a questionable reputation. And really, that was all that mattered in his career.

  It also helped that she was beautiful.

  Even so, Nathaniel could not deny that his heart was still holding out for her. The girl that had been the first capture his interest; a girl which had compelled him to be the war hero that the people of London considered him to be.

  Helena Rowe. With a sigh he thanked the servant for the soothing drink. Nathaniel was not sure he would ever forgive himself for letting her get away from him. What had it gained him? Fame? Riches? Those things were tempting as a naïve lad, but as a man they meant nothing now. How could they when Nathaniel knew what he was missing every time he remembered his parents’ relationship, or his uncle’s, or even the commoners as they walked cheerily down the street?

  No, something needed to change.

  “I am sorry to disturb you, Master Beaumont,” his butler said, interrupting his thoughts. “But you have received two letters.”

  “Thank you, Stiles,” the duke said warily. “Could you please deny all visitors entry for the day, as well – no exceptions. I am not feeling well.”

  “As you wish, sir,” the old man said with a bow, leaving him alone once again.

  Turning the first letter, Nathaniel was irritated as he saw the red wax seal of the Connolly house. And as he opened it, he saw that it was a message from Selene. Apparently the Marchioness was expressing her excitement for the Masquerade Ball coming up within a few days. With a groan, he begrudgingly remembered that he would have to attend. Such events had been fun the first few years in the spotlight, but the gold had quickly turned to brass rather quickly.

  Nothing but a bunch overstuffed peacocks, he thought with a grumble. Unfortunately, his responsibilities needed to come first over his personal interests.

  As his uncle was keen on saying: You made your bed, Nathaniel, now you must lie in it.

  With a sigh, he wrote a quick response assuring his date that he was equally as excited as her and was anxious to see her. Nathaniel sincerely wished he did feel that way – it would certainly make life easier – but it was not. And despite her two-faced nature, Selene did not deserve to pay for his past mistake.

  Looking at the second letter, Nathaniel was confused by the lack of an insignia on the seal – which was curiously white instead of red. He thought about asking Stiles about it, but the duke was too intrigued to do so. Breaking the seal, he saw that it was another message about the ball. But this was something else entirely.

  Dear Duke Nathaniel Beaumont,

  I will be attending the Masquerade Ball in two days. And I will be in the company of your uncle, Baron Phineas Grove, wearing the mask of my family’s symbol. I have admired you from afar, my dear duke, and I do hope to finally be able to meet with you. Whether you know so or not, you have been the light of my life and the hope for my future.

  Sincerely,

  Your humble servant

  Nathaniel had to take a moment to let the words sink in. Who on had sent him this? He needed to know. And he needed to speak to his uncle.

  “I’m quite sorry, sir,” Stiles said as Nathaniel inquired about his uncle. “I just received news that he will be out of the city until the Masquerade Ball.”

  The old dog, he thought. Phineas had to be in on this. And though there was a small hope in his heart that the mysterious letter writer was her, Nathaniel could not allow to let his hopes up that high. But that did not stop him from grinning like a madman the rest of the day. And was it just him, or had the day gotten brighter?

  It seemed that he had something to look forward to, after all.

  ***

  Helena sewed the Marchioness’ dress with more gusto than usual this morning. She was still quite enthusiastic after meeting with Phineas. Not only was her hope in Nathaniel restored, but Helena’s heart was near bursting with excitement as she thought about the Masquerade Ball. She still could not believe the baron was so willing to take her; surely bringing a commoner would lower his reputation. But as she had quickly learned, Phineas was not like any of the other members of the House.

  He was truly sincere in trying to help Nathaniel, and it touched her that he thought Helena would be able to turn him around. Despite this bode of confidence, however, the young woman was still unsure about that. She had always been told – primarily by her mother - that people could only change if they wanted to. And though Nathaniel might actually love her that would not mean his questionable ways would change.

  The thought dampened her mood a bit, but Helena shook the feeling off. All that matters is that I finally have a chance to see him again, she thought. And even if this whole plan of ours goes horribly wrong, then I will at least have been able to say that I still managed to achieve my dream. And I will finally put this all to rest. Perhaps this was a rather cynical viewpoint, but it was the truth.

  “Miss Rhodes?” Joanna asked, creaking open the door of the workroom.

  �
�Oh come now, Joanna. You can call me Helena,” she stated, biting off a piece of thread. “I’m not your mistress.”

  “Well you aren’t a servant either,” Joanna said stubbornly. “You’re a guest. And I am not the type of woman that doesn’t give a person their proper respect.”

  Helena shook her head with a sigh, but inwardly she smiled. There was nothing like having a person of no nonsense around to keep you grounded at times. “Alright, Joanna. What is it that you wanted to ask?”

  “I was just coming to warn you that the Marchioness is on to us, I think. About the baron taking you to the ball and whatnot.”

  “What?!” Helena exclaimed. “How?”

  The young girl twiddled her thumbs as she looked down in shame. “Well…”

  “Joanna?” she replied with misgiving.

  “I sort of… spilled it… when she started asking about Baron Grove’s visit. She would not let up once she learned that he had gone up to see you. I did not tell her about your past with Duke Beaumont or anything,” Looking up, the maid had tears in her eyes. “I am so sorry, Miss. I truly am. I just did not want to have a week’s wages deducted.... Please don’t hate me…”

  Helena immediately dropped her work and rushed to embrace her. “You have no need to apologize Joanna. I could never ask for someone to suffer because of me. And you’ve been so helpful in all this… If anyone should be sorry it’s me for dragging you into this.”

  As the two girls continued to hug, Helena was once again struck by how grateful she should be. She was also reminded of how her own selfish pursuits affected others. And it was there that she promised herself that she would not allow it to happen again.

  Chapter 9

  23rd of May, 1813

  “Oh do hurry, Miss!” Joanna cried anxiously. “Baron Grove will be here at any moment!”

  “I am going as fast as I possibly can!” Helena replied, her fingers flying like mad to complete the final touches of her dress.

  While she had completed the thing some time ago, Helena had unfortunately forgotten to check for moth damage before the day of the ball. It was not entirely her fault; Selene had been working her so harshly lately that Helena barely had time to even think.

  “Oh! A carriage is arriving!” the maid said. “Oh… It’s just Nathaniel. He must be picking up the Marchioness. He looks so very handsome, Miss. You should take a look.”

  Helena shook her head. Though she would have loved to see him in his finest clothes, she would also probably scrap her dress in anxiety and try to make a better one. No, it would have to be a surprise.

  Just as she finished repairing the last sign of imperfection, Joanna squealed in delight as she spied Phineas Grove’s carriage in the distance. And it was just as the man entered the home that Helena was finally dressed.

  As she began her way down the manor’s main stairs, Helena could feel herself blushing from head to toe. This was the most beautiful thing she had ever worn. And for the first time in what may have been forever, Helena felt beautiful herself.

  Even the baron felt slightly self-conscious as he offered his hand. “Well my dear, would you do this old man the biggest favor and agree to accompany him to the ball.”

  Helena took his hand and replied, “It would be my greatest pleasure, your lordship.”

  And with that, the two began to head off into the night, leaving a starry-eyed Joanna behind. Though a part of her wished that she could have joined them and seen the duke’s reaction to her midnight reveal in person, the young servant girl was satisfied that she would at least hear about it later on.

  ***

  Helena had heard a great many things about the parties of nobles before. Even her father had been invited to a few. It was supposed to be a time of total indulgence with the finest foods, entertainment, and company of the only the most highly esteemed of society.

  And from what Helena could see, those stories appeared to be correct. As soon as she had entered the palace’s ballroom, it had been as if she had stepped into another world. This, of course, was only emphasized as all the guests had on various decorated masks.

  Hers was of a scarlet doe, contrasting heavily with the green hound that Phineas wore. However, it matched perfectly with the red and brown gown she was wearing. Very odd colors in a sea of bright golds, blues, and silvers; but the other partygoers did not seem to mind. In fact, they seemed drawn by the outfit.

  Helena tried to keep her cool as the murmurs about her as the whisperings near the dance floor became louder. But it was the moment that she saw Nathaniel and Selene that truly put her to the test. Not only was she in the same room as her love and perhaps the most handsome man she’d ever seen, but Helena was also in the proximity of her greatest adversary.

  If she sees me she won’t let me get near him, she thought. And with the way she’s holding his arm there’s no chance she’ll let him out of her sight.

  Sensing her apprehensions, Phineas whispered, “Not to worry, Miss Rowe. Nathaniel will soon be made available.”

  As soon as the circle of dancers broke to switch partners, the baron headed straight for Selene. Though clearly irritated at being separated from her date, the marchioness did not utter a word. She was still a noble lady, after all.

  Slightly relieved that she was finally gone, Nathaniel suddenly recognized that the man who had cut him off was his mentor. That must mean that…

  The duke then turned to see that a young woman was now offering her hand. “Would you care to dance, your lordship?” she asked, her lashes fluttering in front of bold, blue eyes.

  “It would be my pleasure,” he uttered automatically. Is it really her? She did say that she would be dressed as a beautiful, yet simple creature. However, as the two continued to dance in perfect rhythm to the fine tune playing, Nathaniel doubted there was anything simple about this woman. Especially if she was who he suspected her to be.

  After a few more dances with which they grew more and more isolated from the others, he asked nervously, “Are you… are you Helena?”

  She only smiled as she asked, “Would it please you if I were?”

  “More than anything,” Nathaniel said, his voice pleading for confirmation.

  Though ready to end the charade, Helena caught sight of a headdress shaped like a swan in the nearby crowd. Selene. She could not allow her to see them. Not when they were so close.

  “Then come with me,” she said. Without turning to see if he would follow, she rushed out of the door and towards the gardens.

  And without a second thought, the man went after her, ignoring the cries for him in the distance. By the time that Selene was at the spot, both of them were long gone.

  The chase ended as Helena arrived at the one thing in the palace she had always wanted to see. A glorious fountain with numerous marble creatures scattered about and a man and woman dancing in the center. And as she got closer, Helena saw that the flawless marble was interlaced with gold. It was just as her father had described and even more magnificent in person. Touching the stone, she pictured her mother and father dancing here; their first time in the presence of luxury.

  Who would have guessed she would ever have the chance to do the same?

  Turning around, Helena was glad to see Nathaniel there. Only he stood there, staring at her as if going any further would make her vanish into thin air. And she had wanted this for so long; she was rather hesitant to approach him as well.

  Eventually, they both decided that action needed to be taken now. The wait was over.

  The two approached each other, taking each other’s hands as their heads nearly touched.

  “Helena… if that is you. Please… Please show yourself to me,” he whispered, his mouth close to hers.

  “As you wish, Duke Beaumont,” she replied, her lips grazing his.

  As a bell signaled the end of the ball, Helena removed her mask along with Nathaniel. She barely had a chance to cast it aside before he kissed her. It was long, yet gentle, but Helena could tell th
at he was holding back. And he was; Nathaniel felt like a man in a drought trying to control himself after getting a drop of water. Instead of letting this continue, Helena began to kiss back with a force of her own. Her body wanting to take in every inch of his, the urge only grew larger as his scent filled her senses.

  Hearing the sounds of departing guests, Nathaniel then quickly carried her off to an old gazebo covered in vines and overgrown bushes. Once inside, the ferocity of their touches only became higher. As she began to feel his strong chest, Helena felt her inhibitions grow nearly silent. And Nathaniel could hardly contain himself as he felt the smooth skin of her back and neck.

  Suddenly, the thin line that had been keeping them from going further was broken. Helena undid the buttons on his overcoat, while his fingers quickly set free the knots on her corset. Her hands then raced to feel the bare flesh of his abdomen, while Nathaniel gently cupped her fair breasts. The sensation of cool air on her skin gave her shivers, not helped as the duke’s lips kissed the sensitive nipples as they became erect.

  The man pulled her close as she gave a small moan of pleasure. It was a wondrous sound of which he wanted more. And with every passing moment, Nathaniel expected to wake up from this dream. It had to be a dream. There was no way that the woman before him was truly the one he had been aching for. And Helena could not believe that the man in her arms was actually the duke; the man everyone had said she would never be able to meet.

  But it was not a dream. They were here, and they both prayed that this night would never end. However, reality was quick to cut the wish down. Within moments of going towards the final act of love, they were startled by the loud gongs of a church bell. It was now one o’clock in the morning, which meant that all the guests would have to be off the property soon.

  Quickly redressing themselves, Helena was almost ready to take off before Nathaniel stopped her. “Please, don’t leave me. After all these years…”