The Duke's Secret Heir

by Sarah Mallory

  He inclined his head and when the music ended he took her hand to lead her from the floor. When he would have escorted her towards Frederick and Georgie she held back.

  ‘I should like to talk to you, if we could find a quiet spot.’

  His brows rose and he looked at her, then gave a little shrug. ‘As you wish.’

  A couple had just vacated a sofa in a convenient alcove and he led her to it, saying as he sat down with her, ‘This should suit, we can be seen from the main room but no one can overhear us without coming very close. So, madam, what do you wish to talk about?’

  His tone was politely indifferent and the impulsive apology withered on her lips. It was far too late for expressions of sympathy or regret; he did not want them. He did not want her. Very well, she would ask him about his future plans.

  ‘I am anxious to know what is going to happen, when this charade is ended.’

  ‘I shall take you and the boy to Rossenhall.’

  ‘Have you informed your sister-in-law?’

  ‘Not yet. As soon as I do, word will be all over the country within weeks. Dorcas is an inveterate letter writer.’ He added, his lip curling, ‘She covers sheet after sheet with gossip for her cronies.’

  ‘And what story will you give her, Your Grace?’

  ‘It must be as near to the truth as possible,’ he said. ‘We met and married in Egypt, but lost each other in the confusion that followed the British withdrawal from Alexandria.’

  ‘For four years? Why did we not seek out one another sooner?’

  ‘We did, but decided to keep our marriage a secret while I was in the army. Your going off to explore the Orient with only your old teacher as companion has given you a reputation for eccentricity.’ She gave a gasp of outrage and he stopped, his brows rising in enquiry. ‘Well, ma’am, do you deny it?’

  ‘I went travelling because it was preferable to the alternative,’ she said in a low, angry voice.

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘To marry and hand over responsibility for my fortune and my life to a man. You cannot know how it feels to be always pursued for one’s fortune. To have ambitious parents for ever extolling the virtues of their offspring. To know that every word, every look will be closely scrutinised, dissected and discussed.’

  ‘Oh, I do, ma’am,’ he said grimly. ‘I have lived under just such a burden since becoming a duke.’

  She felt a quick stab of sympathy, but it was ousted by his next words.

  ‘People will wonder why I did not install you immediately as my Duchess, but I shall make it known that you refused to give up your life of pleasure here.’

  An angry retort rose to her lips, but he put up his hand. ‘Be careful, Ellen, remember everyone can see us, even if they cannot hear what we are saying. You must try to appear composed. To use your own words, every look will be recalled, scrutinised, dissected and discussed, once it is known you are my wife.’

  Ellen fanned herself, saying in a low voice, ‘You would have everyone believe I was enjoying myself too much in Harrogate to know my duty!’

  ‘You have it exactly, madam. That is why I have come to fetch you.’ Ellen closed her fan with a snap and turned to him, about to protest, but he continued coldly, ‘The world will think you selfish and capricious, my dear, but you will live with that. You may console yourself with the advantages you will have as my wife.’

  She sat up very straight. ‘Do you mean you will divorce me if I do not go along with this story?’

  ‘Precisely.’

  All thoughts of sympathy or regret were gone now. She eyed him resentfully and after a moment he laughed, mocking her.

  ‘You will be well served for your deceit, will you not, Mrs Furnell?’ He rose and put out his hand. ‘Come, the next dance is about to begin and your beaux will be looking for you.’

  He pulled her to her feet and stood looking down at her. He had his back to the room, shielding her from the company and no longer needing to keep his contempt hidden.

  ‘Note I do not say your other beaux. Do not consider me amongst your conquests.’

  His eyes, green as a cat’s, taunted her. She thought wildly that this was how a trapped mouse must feel, at the mercy of a predator. But her courage rose and with it her anger. She would never allow Max to see her distress.

  She said lightly, ‘I never did consider you a conquest, Your Grace. The fact that I was so ready to believe you had deceived me shows that I had very little opinion of you at all.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘You loved me once.’

  ‘Did I?’ Ellen achieved a careless laugh. ‘I really do not think so.’

  Then, disengaging her hand, she stepped around him and sailed back into the main room.

  * * *

  Max watched her glide away from him, head held high. Within minutes she was surrounded by admirers and she walked off amidst them, giving them her glorious smile, turning aside their compliments with a witty rejoinder. A hard knot of bitterness was lodged somewhere beneath his ribs. So she had thought it all a game. She thought he was the sort of scoundrel who would trick a virgin with a sham marriage.

  Perhaps he should not have been surprised. Her behaviour had never been that of a shy ingénue. Even on their wedding night she had returned his kisses with passion, a little wild and inexperienced, to be sure, but there had not been anything shy or retiring about her responses. Max frowned. He knew how to please a woman—he had been taught by the finest courtesans in London, his father had seen to that!—and the passion he had roused in Ellen had been real, he would swear to it. But just because she liked his lovemaking did not mean she believed it was more than a diversion. She had told him herself that she was accustomed to being courted and flattered for her fortune as well as her beauty. She said she had never taken any of her suitors seriously, what a fool he was to believe she had thought of him any differently.

  His hands clenched into fists at his side. She was a heartless jade and had only been amusing herself. If it wasn’t for the boy, he would begin the divorce procedure immediately. Whatever the scandal and humiliation he did not want such a woman in his life. He frowned. She was the mother of his son and from everything he had seen she was a good mother, too. It did not make any sense. But their liaison had been conducted with the threat of war hanging over them and he knew from experience that in wartime very little made sense. He went off to the card room, prepared to lose a great deal of money if it helped him forget about golden-haired sirens for a while, but such was the fickleness of Fate that even without trying he won a small fortune in a very short space of time.

  * * *

  Ellen had left the Dragon before the dancing had ended and did not see Max again. The following night she was engaged to join Lady Bilbrough at the theatre and she almost cried off, but her pride rebelled at giving up the treat of a play just because Max might be there. She dressed with care, choosing a demure high-necked gown of bronze satin with a matching turban that set off her gold curls. She arrived at the theatre just as her party were taking their seats for the performance. Almost immediately she spotted Max. He was in a box on the far side of the theatre with Georgiana, but a third chair was empty. Ellen fretted, impatient for the first play to end so she could ask Georgie if Frederick’s health was worse. She was too anxious about her friend to be deterred by Max’s presence and at the interval she went to their box to enquire. Thankfully, Max excused himself immediately and left the two ladies alone.

  ‘Frederick is at home,’ said Georgie, when Ellen sat down beside her. ‘Last night’s ball exhausted him. I have left him and Lottie in Gregson’s care. She is an excellent servant and has been with us for years, and since Fred vows he is quite terrified of her I hope she will prevail upon him to rest. I have told him if he does not do so I shall not allow him to attend tomorrow night’s ball at the Crown.’

>   ‘Is he so determined to go, then?’ asked Ellen.

  ‘Oh, yes, although he has agreed to take a chair, even though it is so very near us.’ Georgie sighed. ‘He is so unutterably stubborn! I have suggested that we should stay home and invite friends to call, but he thinks that would be giving in to his weakness, as he calls it.’

  ‘And what is Dr Ingram’s opinion?’

  ‘That Frederick should enjoy himself for as long as he can.’ Georgie looked down at her fingers, twisting together anxiously in her lap. ‘He believes it will not be long now.’

  Ellen squeezed her friend’s hands, wishing there was more she could do. She heard the door open and knew without looking that Max had returned. She could feel his presence, it enveloped her, like a cloak.

  ‘I thought we should have some wine,’ he said, holding out a brimming glass to each of the ladies. When Georgie would have refused he pressed the glass into her hand, saying sternly, ‘I insist. It will put heart into you. You know I cannot abide lachrymose females.’

  ‘You are right, there is nothing worse,’ Georgie acknowledged, doing her best to smile. ‘Thank you, you have been such a support to me, Your Grace.’

  ‘How many times must I tell you to call me Max?’ he said, sitting down beside her. ‘We have been friends too long for such formality.’

  Ellen turned away and concentrated fiercely on looking at the crowd as she sipped her wine. The kindness in his voice was like a caress when he spoke to Georgie and it brought back all the old longing. But his next words were for her and there was no softness now, only cold formality.

  ‘Did you enjoy the play, Mrs Furnell?’ She turned to face him and realised with some alarm that Georgie had slipped away and the Duke had now moved to the seat beside her.

  She said carefully, ‘It was very good.’

  ‘That is not what I asked you.’

  ‘Othello has never been a favourite of mine.’

  ‘No? You do not like all that treachery and deceit?’

  ‘I do not.’

  ‘Yet deception is very much a part of life.’

  ‘Desdemona deceived no one. She is innocent.’

  He held her eyes. ‘But you are not, are you? Your deception was deliberate.’

  She looked into his face, all hard planes and uncompromising lines.

  ‘I made a mistake,’ she admitted. ‘For which I shall pay dear.’

  ‘We will both pay dear,’ he bit out.

  Ellen put out her hand. ‘Max, I—’

  He rose quickly, but whether it was because Georgie had come back into the box or he was avoiding her touch Ellen could not be sure.

  ‘Ah, well timed, Georgiana,’ he said cheerfully. ‘The dancers are about to perform and Mrs Furnell is anxious to return to her own party.’

  She was dismissed. He did not want her apology. Ellen rose to take her leave and Max opened the door for her, smiling in a way that made her long to hit him.

  ‘Perhaps you would you like me to escort you, madam?’

  Ellen thrust her empty glass into his outstretched hand and fled. She wanted to go home, to scream and rant and cry her eyes out, but that was not possible. The musicians were already striking up for the dancing and comic songs that preceded the farce. She had time only to pause and compose herself before she re-joined Lady Bilbrough’s party.

  They were all agog to know what the Duke had said to her and ignored the dancers.

  ‘He gave you wine,’ breathed Miss Houseman, an elderly lady of exquisite sensibilities.

  Even in her agitated state Ellen had to laugh.

  ‘And why not, since he was bringing a glass for Mrs Arncliffe?’ She felt obliged to concede that it was very kind of him.

  ‘But to bring it himself, to have a duke wait upon one. How...how intimate.’ Miss Houseman fanned herself vigorously at the thought.

  ‘And he talked to you for a good ten minutes.’ Lady Bilbrough gave an arch laugh as she looked around at her friends. ‘I think the Duke of Rossenhall is very taken with our golden widow.’

  To her annoyance Ellen felt a blush rising. She smiled, as if to suggest it was a ridiculous idea, but she was very grateful that the audience was settling down for the next entertainment and she could turn her attention to the stage.

  Chapter Six

  The next evening Ellen was in a quandary. She knew that her friends would be disappointed if she did not appear at the Crown in another of the new gowns she had brought back from town, yet Lady Bilbrough’s comment last night gave her pause. It would look as though she was trying to attract the Duke.

  Ellen sat down at her dressing table, bridling at the thought. She had never needed any arts to attract admirers. She could not remember a time when she had not been pursued by rogues and gentlemen alike. That was the reason she had been so happy to join Mrs Ackroyd in her travels, to get away from the stifling society that decreed marriage was the only respectable choice for a woman. Even her future stepfather, Richard Arrandale, had set out to woo her for her fortune, until he had fallen head over heels in love with Phyllida and become a reformed character. Ellen rested her chin on her hand and gazed unseeing into the glass, thinking of her step-parents.

  The eleven-year-old Ellen had been quite prepared to hate her new step-mama, but instead she had loved her and with only seven years between them they had grown close, more like sisters than mother and daughter. The marriage had been successful and full of affection, but when Papa had died, Ellen had decided that her still youthful step-mama should marry again and done all she could to promote the attraction she saw growing between Phyllida and Richard, who was not at all the hardened rake he wanted to appear. Theirs was the sort of love Ellen had always wanted, but never found. At least, not until she met Max Colnebrooke. From the first moment she looked into his eyes and heard that amused, mellifluous voice, smooth and dark as chocolate, she knew she had met her match.

  ‘All for love and the world well lost indeed,’ she muttered, thinking of Mr Dryden’s play.

  But the free-spirited adventurer who had wooed her in Egypt was very different from the cold nobleman who now claimed her as his wife. She had not yet heard back from her lawyers about the legitimacy of their marriage, but she had no doubt it was true. Max had made it abundantly clear that he would have disowned her if he could do so. As it was they were bound together and she must make the best of it, for Jamie’s sake. And the situation was made even more complicated because Max had misled his best friend. No more than Max did Ellen want to cause Frederick distress when he was so ill, so they would play out this charade for as long as it was necessary.

  ‘And as long as I am Mrs Ellen Furnell then I should act like her,’ Ellen told her reflection. She put up her chin and added defiantly, ‘I shall wear my new sapphire silk and there’s an end to it!’

  * * *

  Max dined with the Arncliffes and insisted they use his coach to make the very short journey to the Crown Inn for the Wednesday evening ball. Frederick knew this was for his benefit and, as he was helped into the sumptuous carriage, he objected vociferously to being treated like an invalid.

  ‘But Max came here in his carriage and will require it to go back to the Granby afterwards,’ Georgie pointed out.

  Max was more blunt.

  ‘Stop complaining, Fred. You should be grateful. This is infinitely preferable to hiring a chair for you while Georgie and I walk alongside and get our feet dirty.’

  They were even then drawing up at the Crown Inn. Max helped Frederick indoors and to the benches before leading Georgie out to join one of the sets that was forming.

  ‘It is a pity Ellen is not here or you might have partnered her for the first two dances,’ murmured Georgie. ‘Your attentions to her at the theatre last night have caused quite a stir. I heard no end of remarks in the Promen
ade Rooms today.’

  Max bit down his retort. He bitterly regretted his actions at the theatre, detaining Ellen at the front of the box in full view of Harrogate society, but she had been so cool and aloof and he had wanted her to look at him, to talk to him. And then, when he had goaded her into responding and seen the remorse in her eyes, he had shied away before she could apologise, afraid he would succumb to her soft words. In his heart he accepted there was some justification for her deserting him. The mission to Egypt had been such a secret that not even his family had known of it. How could he expect her to believe him, in the face of all the evidence to the contrary? But the consequences of her actions had been devastating. He could not forget that. And therefore he could not forgive her.

  ‘Even Frederick heard of it,’ Georgie continued as they made their bows and the dance started. ‘He found it quite amusing.’

  Well, that was something, he thought. At least it might reconcile Fred to the idea that he would not be marrying his little sister.

  * * *

  The first two dances had just ended when a bustle at the door announced a late arrival. Max looked across in time to see Ellen sweep into the room.

  ‘Oh, doesn’t she look wonderful? That gown is the exact colour of her eyes,’ Georgie exclaimed. ‘She is so beautiful, do you not think so, Max?’

  He turned away to escort her from the floor. ‘A veritable diamond.’

  His partner gave a gusty sigh and whispered, ‘I think your story is so romantic.’

  Max’s lip curled and he led her as fast as he could through the crowd towards Frederick, but there was no relief to be found there. Fred held out one hand to his wife and waved Max away with the other.

  ‘You had best make haste and claim your dance with Ellen Furnell, my friend. The other fellows won’t hesitate to cut you out, duke or no duke!’

  ‘I’m dashed if I will pander to her vanity.’

  It sounded truculent even to his own ears and had the effect of making both Fred and Georgie laugh at him. He went off, half-inclined to disappear into the card room, but in the end he joined the throng about Ellen, waiting for his turn to beg her hand for a dance.