The Duke's Secrets

by Abby Ayles

  “I did not know you had a brother,” replied Lady Elridge.

  Duke Haskett nodded. “Indeed I do. He is younger, and so has no traditional right to the position. But several debts have been called against my name, and my brother is writing to the crown, announcing my inability to properly maintain the Duchy and requesting that he take over from me. And then, I do not know what shall become of me.”

  “I am sure your brother has a plan for you,” Mary said reassuringly.

  “Oh, I know for a fact that he does,” replied Duke Haskett with an expression of pain and despair, “and that plan does not bear thinking about.”

  A great silence fell over the table.

  “We shall keep you for as long as it takes,” said Sir Elridge, “just as my wife promised.”

  Duke Haskett smiled meekly. “You are too kind, too kind. I am forever in your favour.” He looked down at his place as a plate of food was set between his cutlery. “If you forgive me, I shall now have my dinner.”

  Sir Elridge smiled and nodded. “Indeed, we all require some nourishment tonight. Eat and drink, then our servants shall prepare you fresh clothes and a bed. Tomorrow we can discuss the situation in more detail.”

  Duke Haskett ate with the usual care of a noble, and yet with a speed and relish which suggested he had not had a proper meal in some time.

  Watching him, Mary felt her heart stir once again. She looked down at her plate during the meal, and avoided eye contact with him the remainder of the night.

  * * *

  The next morning Mary awoke early and, finding it impossible to fall back asleep, made her way quietly downstairs to practise her piano forte. The servants were, as usual, already up and busying themselves getting the house ready for the Elridges and their guest.

  Mary briefly wondered whether the instrument could be heard from the guest room. She knew her parents would not be able to hear it, but she had never had to consider whether playing the piano forte at seven in the morning might awaken a guest. She leafed through the music books, looking for the right one for the morning.

  “I see you are already up,” Duke Haskett said.

  Mary spun around on her heels, shocked by how quietly he had crept up on her. He looked a completely different man. He had washed, shaved, and was dressed in clean, pressed clothes. His face looked fuller and less worn after a good night's sleep, and he was smiling lightly.

  “Please, forgive me,” he added, “I was simply being quiet as I believed nobody else was awake.”

  Mary shook her head. “It was nothing, just a little surprise,” she said. Normally she would say something to remind him that they were there alone. But now, after everything, she did not feel that worry. The door was open and servants were about. It was not as though anything inappropriate could happen, or anyone could, or would want to, start a rumour.

  “I suppose you think me an embarrassment?” he said quietly.

  Mary shook her head. “Why would I ever think such a thing?”

  “Because the wealthy, powerful man you had admired, who scorned you, is now crawling back and begging favours from you,” he replied.

  “You may have been wealthy, but we ought to share what we have; you may have been powerful, but we ought to help those who need us, not just whom we need, and you may have scorned me, but you are still created in God's image and you still deserve to be treated with dignity,” Mary replied.

  His eyes shone. “Is that so? You are much kinder than the others were,” he replied.

  “The others?” Mary asked.

  “I was stranded away from any manor I have that is still tended to,” he replied, “and so I asked my previous hosts whether they could keep me for another few weeks, just until I had news from my brother or my estate. And yet, knowing that I had barely any money, they would not let me back in.” He chuckled. “Then I went to another friend, who also closed his door on me. Women who once wished to wed me would not look at me, and men whom I considered friends turned me away at their gate.”

  “Well, some turned away our Holy Mother,” Mary replied, “it did not make the decision right.”

  “What if I am never able to regain my wealth, or my status?” Duke Haskett sighed. “I would be a terrible burden to you.”

  Those words struck Mary to her heart. At least she knew exactly how that felt. And, although she had not been able to find an answer for herself, now that someone else came to her with the same problem, the answer came to her also. “But you would not be a burden. It is a great joy to bring help to those who need us, and to know that those who matter to us are safe and well. It would cause so much pain to us, as human beings, if we had to live every day knowing we had let down those who needed us. And God is sure to punish those who treat others as mere conveniences.” She paused briefly. “Though he is sure to punish liars too.”

  Duke Haskett sighed. “I know... I should have told you the truth, the whole truth, from the start. But... I... You must understand me. Or at least attempt to. I am, or was, in a dangerous position. And I could not allow for a woman who did not love me for who I am to marry me. A woman who would marry me for my wealth, or my status, would surely make my life miserable, as my mother did to my father.”

  “The same mother who taught you to play piano forte?” Mary replied. “Or was that also a lie?”

  “No, that was true. Everything other than the circumstances concerning my wealth and title was the truth. And she was a wonderful mother, but a terrible wife.” He shook his head. “I will not allow myself to marry someone who would wed me to use me.”

  Mary nodded. “I understand.”

  “And I suppose I made the right decision, too. After all, would you have me now, as I am? As I could be soon?” he said mournfully. “I did... I did believe I could love you, Mary. Until you discovered who I was and became so interested. It hurt me to see you change for something like that. Could you have loved and married Mr. Haskett, as you intended to love and marry Duke Haskett?”

  Mary felt her heart leap again. She looked to him. That handsome face, those intelligent eyes, the slight despair worn into his features... She still loved him. Even like this. She would always love him. She sat down beside him on the chaise longue. “I could,” she whispered. “I could love you… whoever you are.”

  Duke Haskett looked up and his eyes met hers again. Mary felt herself blushing, but did not look away. She smiled. He smiled back and rested his hand on hers softly. “You really could? After this?”

  Mary nodded. “You would have to persuade my parents, but... I have a feeling they may still be open to the idea.”

  “Which idea would that be?” Sir Elridge's voice said.

  Mary startled slightly, but was relieved that her father had not yet reached the doorway when he began speaking, and had not seen them sitting together like that. In a split second Duke Haskett was standing, and Mary, wondering whether there was a way to stop a blush, had shifted down the chaise longue to ensure there was enough space between them so as to avoid suspicion. Her father and mother walked through the doorway.

  “Awake already?” asked Sir Elridge with a smile. “Now, now, I know you two are friends, but I must insist that you keep an escort of some description.”

  Mary nodded sternly. “I am sorry father. Duke Haskett had an important question, and I forgot myself.”

  Sir Elridge shook his head slowly, but seemed unperturbed. No harm had been done. “Now, what question might that be?” he asked Duke Haskett.

  Duke Haskett nodded in acknowledgement. “Actually, it pertains to that friendship which you just mentioned. I was asking Marianne if she would still be willing to consider me as a suitor, despite the... disarray of my personal life at present.”

  “And what was her answer?” asked Lady Elridge.

  Mary avoided her mother's gaze. “Provided you were to agree,” she said, “I would not be unhappy to wed Duke Haskett, whatever the circumstances.” She glanced up at her parents out of the corner of her eye.


  Her father looked to her mother. They seemed internally conflicted, and yet looking into each other's eyes, a certain peace overcame their troubled expressions.

  “I suppose,” began Sir Elridge, “that we might consider such a marriage.”

  “But I could lose my title, my wealth, everything,” Duke Haskett countered.

  Sir Elridge shook his head again. “I am aware of that. But Lady Elridge and I have had a few exchanges over the past few days, and we have reached an agreement. Our own marriage may not have furthered either of us socially, but it gave us something strong to rely upon during our times of need and hardship. And having you come to us last night... It made us see that it is this support which makes a marriage great. A noble could always lose his title. You could have wed Marianne and lost your position after. And yet, with the right support, we have no doubt you will be back on your feet. It is not a bad thing, for her to marry someone she believes she can support and care for, someone who can do the same for her.”

  Duke Haskett smiled and nodded. “In that case, I have another announcement. Marianne, I am sure you recall what I told you just now, that I had only lied about my circumstances?”

  Mary nodded, slightly baffled by the change in conversation.

  “When we were in the garden, what did I tell you of my family?” he asked.

  “That you have...” Mary gasped, “no living family.”

  “That was the truth,” he said. “I am sorry to confess to you that I have still been lying about my circumstances. I have no brother. And my status is not at risk. I needed to know for sure whether my prospective brides were invested in me as a man, or just interested in a title.”

  Mary realized her mouth was open in shock and quickly closed it. “But... I...” She shook her head. “Duke Haskett!”

  “I am so terribly sorry, Mary,” he said, dropping to one knee. “But as I have been saying, there are many women who would choose me for my title and my wealth alone. And I... I truly wish to marry you, but I needed to know that you would want to marry me for myself.”

  Mary shook her head slowly again. “I cannot believe you treated us in such a manner a second time.”

  “But it was the last time,” Duke Haskett replied. “Because now I know that you are the right woman for me, the woman I shall make my wife.”

  “No,” Mary found her mouth forming the words before she could even think. “No, Duke Haskett, you shall not.”

  His eyes widened and this time it was his turn to stare, open-mouthed in sheer confused shock, as the words sunk in.

  Mary glanced at her parents, who were suddenly looking tense and bewildered, eyes darting from her, to Duke Haskett.

  Lady Elridge started to collapse a little and Sir Elridge helped her into a chair and offered her the phial of smelling salts.

  When Mary's eyes returned to Duke Haskett's face, he had not moved a muscle. He was still as a statue.

  And she could not blame them for being surprised. After all, she could scarcely believe her own lips, even as they formed the words once more.

  “No, you shall not make me your wife.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Duke Haskett laughed slightly nervously. “Ah, this is a joke, is it not? A little revenge? I must admit you tricked me but for a moment there. But that was very cruel, look at your poor mother.” His eyes met hers and he instantly stopped. There were a few seconds silence between them. Slowly, he stood up. “You are not joking,” he stated.

  Mary shook her head. “No, I am not.”

  “But why would you say such things?” Duke Haskett replied.

  Mary was asking herself the same question. Was this not what she had always wanted? To marry her perfect man, to climb the ranks, and to become her own, independent self? And here she was turning it away. She turned her back on him and went over to where her father was helping her mother awaken, and held Lady Elridge's hand tenderly.

  “I am sorry mother,” she said softly. “I did not mean to alarm you.”

  She could not look at Duke Haskett. She could not find the right words with which to address him. She could not reconcile the emotions she was feeling: love, pain, fear, stress, confusion... All she knew was that one emotion had taken over all the rest: anger.

  Yes, she was angry at Duke Haskett. And unlike the rest of her emotional cocktail, she knew exactly where her anger had come from.

  “Duke Haskett, you said that when your true identity was revealed to me at first my attitude towards you changed,” she began, turning to face him. “And you are right, it did. But not because I was so hungry for status and wealth that I wished to impress a Duke. My attitude towards you changed because my feelings towards you changed. You had gone from a secretive stranger and a liar, to being a transparent man whom I could put some trust in. And that man, that Christopher Haskett, I would marry no matter who he was. But you... I do not know who you are. And I cannot agree to marry you.”

  Mary could feel all her anger, all her confusion, all her stress coming to a head. It felt good to tell him. But, then again, it suddenly didn't. He wore an expression like a hurt puppy, and suddenly his head hung, his eyes fixed on the floor. He sighed heavily. “I am a complete and utter fool,” he said.

  “You are,” Mary said before she could help herself. “I am sorry, I...”

  Duke Haskett laughed softly and shook his head. “No, I am. I had been so focused on my own interests and my own fears that I treated you... all of you, like you were nothing, like your hearts did not matter to me. And in doing so I have destroyed something so precious. I will not request another opportunity to prove myself. I do not deserve it.”

  Lady Elridge sat up as straight as she could, “Duke Haskett, you do not need to apologise. A man of your status, in your position... sometimes one needs to do such things so as to determine who one's true friends are.” She smiled meekly.

  Duke Haskett smiled back at her. “That is true, Lady Elridge. And, looking back upon the time I have known your family, it is clear to me that I am no friend to any of you.” He began walking towards the doorway.

  Mary's heart ached and she scolded it wordlessly for its disobedience. It begged her to reach out to him, to grab him and bring him back. She tried to stop watching him leave, but could not tear her eyes from the man. When he stopped and turned around, Mary felt as though she could faint. But all he said was “I shall send someone to return the clothes you kindly loaned me,” and then he was gone.

  * * *

  “I cannot believe what my eyes have seen, what my ears just heard,” Lady Elridge sighed. “Mary...” She shook her head.

  “I only had the courage to do so because you were right... and father was right, everyone was right,” Mary said. “Marrying a Duke does not mean I would be a Duchess forever, marrying a rude man and a liar is not grounds for a happy marriage, and I cannot love someone I do not know.”

  Lady Elridge was still shaking her head. “When did you become so... defiant?”

  Mary paused. “I did not mean to be defiant, mother. Or to hurt you, or father... or Duke Haskett.”

  “When did you become so foolish?” Sir Elridge countered.

  Mary shook her head, “Whatever do you mean?”

  “You do love Duke Haskett, do you not?” he asked her.

  Mary nodded. “Well... I believe I do. But how can I know for sure? He has lied so much to us all.”

  Sir Elridge shook his head. “He has lied about one thing only: his title. All else he has told us has either been true, or part of the lie surrounding his title. Did you love him for the title?”

  Mary shook her head. “I loved him for his gentleness, and his wit, and his skills playing piano forte,” she paused, “and none of those were lies. As far as we know.”

  Sir Elridge nodded. “He may have lied to you, to all of us, and you are wise in not wishing to marry him immediately. It will take some time to rebuild the trust he has lost. But the things you love him for are hard to falsify. And he is
still an excellent choice socially and financially. Were we able to, your mother and I would overrule your wish to avoid him. However the damage which you have dealt may only be corrected by you. He will not take you back unless he trusts you will love him. If you still love him, perhaps you ought to speak to him once more.”

  Mary glanced out the window and mulled over what her father had said. Once again, they were right. Once again, she had been thoughtless. Even now her heart ached to think of the pain she had caused Duke Haskett, that handsome, charming, witty gentleman. And he would be handsome, charming, and witty no matter what lies he told about his status.

  “I will apologise to him, and, if he is still interested, I would like him to court me once more,” Mary finally said.

  Her parents breathed a sigh of relief.

  “However,” Mary continued, “we must have complete openness. We cannot invite him into our lives if he will lie to us. He has disappointed us twice, which is already two times too many. I will not allow him to hurt us again, should he disappoint us a third time.”

  Lady Elridge nodded and smiled. “You are wise beyond your years, Mary. That is a very smart agreement.”

  After sending a servant to catch up with Duke Haskett, all they could do is wait.

  * * *

  Mary sat at her piano forte and played. Three days had passed since the servant returned. Duke Haskett's reply was that he would consider the situation, and they would know in due time what he intended to do. And after three whole days, Mary had a feeling that she had done too much damage.

  Playing some Lully, she wondered what she would do now. She was sure that her parents would find her another suitor, as many as it took. But after Duke Haskett, she felt certain that nobody else would inspire the same affection she had felt for him. Whoever her parents chose she would respect, obey, and care for them as a good wife should. And in turn her parents had agreed to make absolutely certain that whichever man they found would align with her values. But her heart would always belong to Duke Haskett.