“Eleanor...” Madeline approached.
“You should leave. Goodwin does not want you here.” Eleanor rose and made her way to the top of the staircase again.
Madeline hesitated.
“She is not wrong,” he said. “Yanell will see you out after we have a word.”
He gestured for her to follow him. In the dimly lit interior of his parlor, he remained standing while she chose a seat.
“Your Grace—”
He held up his hand. “I have no wish to hear your excuses. I am willing to buy Lady Eleanor's freedom from you. She would like to attend her sister's wedding, but it means you will have to stay away from her. What you did is irreconcilable. I fail to understand how you could hurt her.”
Madeline stared at her folded hands. “I know, Your Grace.”
“Lady Emma will soon be running a household of her own. Perhaps it would be good practice to allow her to manage her father's until the wedding takes place. As for you, it might be best if you took a tour of the Continent. Got away from the stress of your family life. Take the money, Madeline. Take it and go far from here. Do not darken my doorstep again. Either here or in London. You will not be welcome.”
“But—”
He held out the note. “Take it.”
Her hand trembled as she plucked it from his grasp. “I did not wish her to find out this way. Or to ever know. Lord Aldshire will be furious if he ever discovers what she heard.” She smiled bitterly. “Not that I expect sympathy from you. I lost myself and there is no excuse. I will do as you suggested.”
“Good.”
He summoned Yanell. “Show Lady Madeline the door.”
Yanell inclined his head. “Of course.”
She followed the steward without any trace of emotion on her face. Her expression was so blankly brittle, it was a wonder her face didn't crack.
He sighed when the front door closed. Unfortunately, the night wasn't over. Eleanor had to be devastated by the revelation.
Daniel bounded up the stairs to his bedchamber.
Eleanor sat on the bed, face buried in her hands as her shoulders shook.
He settled beside her, uncertain if he should touch her. “I'm sorry, sweetling. She has agreed to leave and you shouldn't have to see her again.”
“But you had to pay her to leave.”
“Well, yes. It was an almost certain guarantee she would benefit from money.”
She looked up at him. “I never guessed Papa was not my father. They never treated me differently. Emma and Effie are my sisters. Or, I thought they were.”
“They are in all the ways that matter. If you wish to tell them in the future, it is your choice. Do not shut them out because of this news. I am sure they love you regardless of Madeline's mistakes.”
She wiped her tears away with her palms. “I must return home soon. She will be leaving and Emma cannot manage everything on her own. I owe you a great deal for getting rid of her. For paying a price to keep her away from me.”
“You owe me nothing.” He lifted her hands in his. She'd regained her warmth after rinsing her hair and being coddled into his bed. Surely she'd be all right after she recovered from the evening's shock. “I am glad I could be of assistance, though I'm sorry for the circumstances.”
“You have been nothing but kind to me,” she murmured. “I would be in a far worse place without your help, Daniel. You see? There is no monster inside you. Only a shining knight who vanquishes them.”
The doubt about himself vanished. One look into her brown eyes revealed the feelings she had for him. Her love made him a better man. “You are awfully good for my ego.” He ached to kiss her, but there had never been more unfortunate timing. “I shall miss that when you go.”
“I would not wish to inconvenience you longer than necessary.” She squeezed his hand. “If only there was something I could do to repay you.”
“Don't go. Or at least, not without me.” He clung to her hand. “I thought you scorned me when I heard no response to my note, but I understand now that Madeline stood in your way. I hope you will forgive my rudeness upon your arrival.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “I would have come here if it had taken my last breath. But you must feel as though you scarcely know me. The way I hid everything from you. It's a betrayal.”
“At first, I thought so, yes.” He hugged her in return. “But beneath the costume, you were yourself. Smart and undaunted by the goals you wished to reach. You have insurmountable courage, my dear. Enough to take you back to Tipperstead End. To face your father and perhaps break through his confusion. I believe in you, Leah.”
She pressed her hands to the sides of his face. “I must go back soon, but what of you? There is the matter of the money you paid, but you also...you said you would marry me. I know you meant it as a means to my safety, but nothing would please me more than if you truly had feelings for me. If you wanted to marry me.”
“Madeline only asked if it would make you happy to stay with me. She never considered it might be what I want as well. Marry me. We will raise all the sheep you like or reside in London if that is what you want. It does not matter as long as you are at my side.”
Eleanor pressed her lips to his for a moment. “I will. We should travel to London to tell Emma and Effie what I learned. I pray for a little bit of clarity from my papa, to tell him the wonderful things I want to do with Lanthrop Downs. And to tell him about you.”
“I am sure he always expected great things from you, my love.”
A DUKE WORTH HIS SALT
EPILOGUE
Eleanor, curled on the sofa with Daniel's book on her lap, turned the page. “Then the sun streamed through the stained-glass window. Like the beams pouring from behind the dark clouds, her hopes were bright. 'Yes, Lord Ballwin, I will marry you.'
'How much do you love me, Leah?' the lord asked.
'As much as the salt on my food.'
'And how much is that?' He caressed her cheek.
'Without my love, you would find your life very bland indeed, as you did before you met me,' she answered. 'It means I love you more than anything.'“
She closed the back cover and raised her gaze to Daniel.
He braced his arms on the back of the sofa, expression anxious. “Well? What do you think?”
Effie clapped. “It was delightful, Your Grace. I was so afraid for Leah when the wicked stepmother tried to keep her from reaching the earl.”
“I knew there would be a happy ending.” Emma placed her hand over Lord Hangingham's. “It's a charming tale, Your Grace. I hope you will share many more with us.”
“Perhaps I will. Eleanor says writing keeps me out of trouble.” He brushed his hand over her hair. “I am relieved that you all liked it.”
“It is a great deal like a story I once heard.”
Eleanor leaned up and turned to the door.
Papa stood there, his eyes clear and his clothes neat, but he wore a frown. “Girls. Hangingham.” He inclined his head to them. “Goodwin, I wasn't aware you were acquainted with my family.”
Eleanor had returned a fortnight ago, but had been creeping around the townhouse, afraid of setting off her papa's temper. He still seemed confused most days, her sisters claimed. If he'd noticed Madeline's absence, he hadn't commented on it.
Daniel tugged at his cravat. “Aldshire. I was not acquainted until recently. It might be best if I allow Lady Eleanor to explain our friendship.”
“Papa. Are you feeling better?” Half afraid she might set him off again, she remained curled almost as small as she could make herself.
“Eleanor.” He seemed surprised to see her. “Where have you been? I missed you.”
“At Lanthrop Downs overseeing your sheep. I intend to return when the lambing season starts.”
His bushy eyebrows rose. “Is that so? What of the Season?”
She covered Daniel's hand with hers. “I do not need to find a suitor, Papa. I have fallen in love with the Duke of Gr
eenebuck. He wants to buy Lanthrop Downs. Did you know?”
“I've missed a great deal, haven't I?” Papa rubbed his forehead. “Blasted fall from my horse. And...that story you read. It is something to do with why you left. I recall that. I said...awful things because—”
She rose, then rounded the sofa to reach him. “I know why, Papa. All of it. There is no need to talk about it anymore. I love you, you know. As much as the salt on my food.”
He smiled. “I should find myself living a very bland life without you in it, my dear. I hope Lanthrop Downs will not keep you away all year. That Goodwin will allow you to visit your old papa on occasion.”
Daniel nodded. “Of course.”
“Well, I would like to hear it all from the beginning, if there is time before dinner. How brave Eleanor left her cossetted life in London and wound up chasing after sheep, yet still managed to win a duke's heart.”
“Oh, Papa, I think His Grace and Eleanor need some time to stretch their legs. I will tell it to you as they told me.” Effie rose from the sofa to take Papa's hand. “It is a strange story, but charming. You will like most if it, I think.”
One day, Eleanor would need to discuss the things Aunt Madeline had told her with Papa, but not today. Not when he seemed more recovered than he had so far. She took Daniel's hand. “Let's take a little walk. There will be plenty of time to talk later.”
She led him outside into the cold air. The sunlight played over the empty flowerbeds and dormant grass. As much as she enjoyed seeing her sisters again, she missed the rush of the ocean and bleating sheep near Lanthrop House.
“Do you think he is really getting well?” Daniel tightened his hold on her hand. “I do not want you to get your hopes up for nothing.”
“If he is not, then we will tell him the whole story again and again if we must. I want to see my father healthy as he was when he left Tipperstead End. I do intend to go back to Sussex for the lambing, but I want to visit as often as I can to remind him that I love him.”
“Wherever you go, I shall follow.” Daniel brushed hair behind her ear. “Whatever it takes to make you happy, my love.”
“After Emma's wedding, we will solidify wedding plans of our own. Then we will be together forever whether it's on the seaside or the streets.”
“Good. I cannot face that saltless, bland life without you.”
“It was a beautiful tale, Daniel.”
“It had its moments of fretful peril. I almost hesitated to write it. I wasn't sure you would want to relive it again. Or allow anyone to hear it.”
“No one will know it's real. As far as the world is concerned, I am just another daughter of an earl who is lucky enough to have found love with a duke who prefers his privacy over politics and ballrooms.” Eleanor stretched on her toes to reach his mouth. She kissed his warm lips. “A duke worth his salt. And I love you more than anything.”
MASQUERADING AS A MISS
ARI THATCHER
MASQUERADING AS A MISS
CHAPTER ONE
The passageway in the depths of the ship was dark and smelled of sweat. Colin Wentworth, Viscount Spalding, braced his palms against the walls to keep from bouncing off them. He’d never been on such a rough voyage like this one. The storm was on its second day, and it grew stronger with every passing hour. He vowed never to board a ship again. Let Father send one of his hired men to check on the plantation, or one of Spalding’s brothers. They enjoyed sea travel.
All he wanted was to arrive safely home and learn what plans had been made for his marriage to Lady Venetia Grantham. She’d been adamant that he not make this trip, but he had too much business, this time, to take care of in Jamaica to let someone else handle it.
Just as he reached to brace himself on a cabin door, it opened. The ship rolled at that very moment, and he stumbled into the room. The door slammed closed.
A young lady shrieked and fell on her bottom.
“Forgive me, Miss. I had no idea the door was going to open.” Spalding helped her stand. With another shift of the floor, her lush curves were pressed against him. He wrapped his arms around her to keep them both on their feet. She smelled sweet, like the lilacs his mother grew. He bent his head to inhale her scent. She trembled against his chest.
She pulled away, her cheeks turning a delightful pink.
“I beg your pardon. That was rather forward of me. I am Spalding. May I ask your name?”
“Cassandra.” She spoke English but had a trace of an accent. Between that and her offering her given name, she apparently hadn’t grown up in England. Her deep green gown looked quite fashionable and well made. Was she a lady’s maid wearing a hand-me-down garment? Her pale blonde hair was styled rather simply, no curls or elaborate twists. Since she probably spent all of her time in the cabin, that alone didn’t tell him anything. With her large blue eyes, it would be a shame if she were merely a serving girl. With beauty like hers, she’d be a Diamond in London.
The door flew open and a young woman gasped. “Oh! I’m sorry, miss. I—”
“Lucy, things are not as they appear. Mr. Spalding was helping me after I fell.”
“Lord Spalding,” he corrected, “Miss…?”
“Miss Franklin.”
“I can see that you’re safe now, so I shall leave.” He bowed his head, pulling the door shut behind him as he left.
Rocking more violently, the ship bounced Spalding off the walls. He returned directly to his cabin and found Hallgrave, his valet, trying to make order of the books and papers tossed about the room. “It’s a wasted effort. Each time I stack them, they tumble off the table.”
“I can’t leave it this way, my lord.” The older man was the most fastidious person Spalding knew. Always straightening Spalding’s bedchamber at home, or dusting unseen dust or dander from his clothes.
“Why don’t you return to your quarters? Get some rest. You can’t be sleeping any better than I am these past few nights.”
“Very good, sir.”
Spalding nodded. He lay on his bed, resting his head on his arms. Reclining was the closest he could come to comfort during the storm. Damn this seasickness.
After a few hours, Hallgrave brought him a meal, but Spalding couldn’t eat much. The tea was soothing, however. He feared having anything in his stomach to be tossed up later. After Hallgrave had taken away his dishes, Spalding put out the lantern and returned to his bed. The moving shadows cast by the swaying light made him all the more queasy. Closing his eyes, he prayed for sleep.
The ship rolled violently, throwing Spalding off his bunk. His head slammed against a table leg. Now his head hurt worse than his stomach. He hadn’t thought anything could hurt that badly.
His body threatened to wretch again. He groaned, forcing himself upright. If this storm didn’t pass soon, death would be a welcome blessing. Someone knocked on the door of his cabin.
“My lord, are you unwell?” his valet asked, opening the door.
“I’m no less so than the last time you checked.” Spalding braced his arms to steady himself as much as possible. “I now have a goose egg on my forehead, but that’s the least of my concerns. Has the captain said how close we are to Bristol? Or Falmouth? Anywhere other than the Mid-Atlantic.”
“The winds are against us, but he’s hoping they’ll turn during the night, and we’ll pass this storm.”
Spalding wasn’t entirely positive he’d live that long. He’d traveled to Jamaica several times and never suffered seasickness to this degree. As his head spun one more time, he prayed he never had to make the journey again.
“My lord, you didn’t eat much. Shall I ask the cook for some bread and cheese?”
His stomach lurched. “No. Please, don’t even mention food.”
“Very well, sir. I will bring you some fresh water.”
Spalding was tired of fighting the constant motion of the ship, so he remained on the floor. The only furniture, his bed, the table and a single chair, were secured to the floor, so they po
sed no risk. His trunk, however, threatened to escape its spot next to the cupboard along one inner wall. He kept his eye on it when he could keep his eyes open for longer than a blink.
Wooden creaks and groans filled the air with each roll. An occasional shout from a crewman rang out, usually cursing, most likely from being hit by a swaying lamp or a shifting crate.
He longed for sleep. Quiet, unmoving, uninterrupted sleep.
He dozed briefly, awakening when he heard a crash and felt the ship shudder. Shouts followed, and he listened for intelligible words. Too many voices spoke at once for him to make out what they said.
As Spalding rolled to his knees to investigate, the ship rocked, throwing him down. Spalding’s shoulder slammed into the floor shooting daggers of pain down his arm. As he tried to push himself upright with the other arm his trunk slid toward him. White lights shattered through his head, followed by darkness.
* * * *
Cassandra held back a shriek, but couldn’t contain her grunt when she smashed against her cabin door.
Her maid, Lucy, screamed for her. “Oh, miss, will it ever end?”
“I fear we shouldn’t wish for that, as it would come by drowning rather than reaching shore.”
“I don’t know how to swim, miss.”
“It won’t matter.” Cassandra didn’t add that no one could swim long enough to reach safety if they were as far out to sea as she assumed. She forced a smile. “The storm will pass soon, and we’ll arrive in Bristol tomorrow as planned.”
Cassandra pressed her hand against her pocket where Aunt Wilhelmina’s address was written on a piece of paper. She’d never met her aunt but had read Mama’s letters, so she felt almost as close as family. Her aunt was family, of course, but Cassandra and her mother had never traveled to England to see their relatives.
She looked forward to seeing the land where she was born. Mama wouldn’t speak of it, wouldn’t even explain why she didn’t care to discuss it. At some point, Cassandra had stopped asking. She never thought to travel off the island she called home. When Mama died, Cassandra found herself with no home, no family. The future appeared both exciting and terrifying.
Once Upon A Regency Page 43
