The Curious Life of the Unfortunate Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Emma Linfield

  Or perhaps Leonard has a special tactic for calming hysterical women.

  Beatrice returned from the kitchen with the warm milk and almonds for Frances to consume.

  “I did wish to save this for a more festive occasion,” Catherine added, seeing that the worst was over. She moved forward and produced a bag she had concealed among her skirts.

  “What is it?” Frances demanded, reaching for it eagerly.

  “Frances, mind your manners!” Percival and Elizabeth chimed in exasperated unison. The oldest Follett child did not heed them and she snatched the package from Catherine’s hands. Elizabeth already knew it had to be the headdress Frances had admired and she glanced at Catherine. The lady was far too focussed on Frances to notice Elizabeth’s stare and a bubble of glee escaped Frances’ lips and filled the room when she saw what she held in her hands.

  “Oh, thank you, Lady Catherine!” she squealed, jumping up to embrace the Duke’s sister. “Thank you!”

  “Frances!” Elizabeth gasped, paling at the inappropriateness of the gesture but Catherine did not seem bothered nor did her brother find it uncouth. Frances whipped her head around toward Herbert who was fraught with concern.

  “You will help me put this on, will you not, Mr. Barlough?” she demanded. Elizabeth felt all the blood drain from her face but she dared not change her sister’s good mood, not when it had so nearly gone the other way.

  “Leave her be,” Leonard murmured. “She is doing no one any harm. Even your father is not admonishing her.”

  “That is because he fears she will have a change of heart at any second,” Elizabeth breathed but she was grateful she had his blessing to allow Frances to proceed with her waywardness.

  “Come along now,” Leonard announced. “We shall bathe and dress for supper and I will tell you about our tales of bravery in the woods.”

  “But what of my milk and almonds?” Frances protested.

  “Beatrice will bring them to your chambers,” Leonard answered without hesitation. “Perhaps she will find you some cheese also.”

  “Oh, yes, please!” Frances gasped and Elizabeth could see that whatever upset had plagued her had fully passed. There would be no more talk about the bad woman with the shrill voice.

  Elizabeth watched as Leonard ushered everyone from the sitting room but she did not move. She could see that he was not finished speaking with her but even if he had not, she found herself slightly stunned by what she had witnessed.

  He recalled that Frances has a penchant for cheese. He spoke to her like an equal, a person, not a petulant child the way anyone else in his position might have.

  It warmed Elizabeth’s heart that he would make the effort to care for Frances. She knew it was not his duty to treat her with such kindness and in truth, Elizabeth had not expected it.

  “Are you well?”

  He stood before her again, the room cleared of all but the two of them.

  “Yes, of course,” she replied quickly. “Thank you for being so tender with Frances. I feel like you have experience with people like her.”

  Leonard’s eyes shadowed.

  “I believe that Frances has been underestimated a great deal,” he replied slowly. “I did not show her any more humility than I would any other lady in her position.”

  “She would not have been in that position if she was any other lady,” Elizabeth sighed.

  “You are in that position at this very moment. Your heart is racing, you are afraid. You must admit that Priscilla disturbed you today.”

  “Not in the least,” she lied. “It was quite an episode when it occurred but I have no fear on the matter.”

  Leonard examined her face, closing the short space between them to peer directly into her eyes.

  “I do not know if you are aware,” he said. “But your are as easy to read as an open book through a freshly washed pane of glass.”

  Elizabeth blushed furiously and tried to look away but Leonard did not permit it.

  “Look at me, Miss Elizabeth,” he murmured. “I have not imagined what we have between us. It is more than an attraction between a man and a woman. I feel as if, in a time before, our souls had been intertwined. I feel like we have already known each other for eternity. You cannot deceive me because I already know what is in your heart.”

  Elizabeth’s chin quivered at the soulfulness of his words and she struggled to catch her breath. His face was so close to hers, his mouth so near. It would be so easy to steal a kiss, one moment to feel his lips against hers…

  She forced herself to step back, the thud of her heart reaching out to touch the inside of her corset. Suddenly she was dizzy, unsure of what she felt.

  “I meant what I said to your sister,” Leonard told her. She heard the regret in his voice and wondered if he wished she had acted on the kiss.

  “In what regards?”

  “You are under my protection and I will not permit a hair on your head to be touched. You need not worry about Priscilla again, I swear it. I will speak with her father—”

  “NO!” She had not meant to speak so rudely but Elizabeth could think of no worse thing for him to do than approach the Baron of Argonshire.

  “You must trust in me. I will do what is necessary to keep you safe,” he promised.

  “Speaking to the Baron will only escalate matters, Your Grace. Please do not. She was taken aback to see me in town today, that is all. I am certain she has already pondered the foolishness of her actions and feels contrite. You need not pursue the matter.”

  “Miss Elizabeth—”

  “Your Grace!” she insisted. “We are here only for one month. I need not encounter Miss Priscilla again. I assure you, I have no fear. Please, do leave well enough alone.”

  A strange expression crossed over Leonard’s face, one which Elizabeth could not read.

  “I will agree to stay silent for now,” he conceded. “But if there is another incident…”

  “There shall not be,” she assured him quickly. She gave him a tight smile.

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “If you were a lady who wagered, what would you say the odds are of you calling me Leo?”

  Elizabeth stared at him in surprise.

  “I, I would not know, Your Grace,” she replied, knowing her face was the color of late fall apples. “I have no sense for maths nor wagers.”

  Leonard’s laugh boomed out through the room and reverberated to meet her ears.

  “I am a patient man, Miss Elizabeth,” he told her but Elizabeth did not believe it. In that moment, all she knew for certain was the way her name spilled out of his mouth and into her ears causing her body to erupt into a rush of shivers.

  “I asked Beatrice to run you a bath,” he told her. “It should be ready for you in your chambers.” He extended his arm for her to take and she accepted it without pause. Once more, Elizabeth was struck by his romantic and kind heart. She had made no more indication that she would care for a bath, than Frances had asked for cheese. Yet the Duke had inherently sensed their desires and arranged for them to occur. Elizabeth did not have much experience in the way of romance but she knew that not many men, particularly of the noble variety, would act in such a fashion. There was a grand difference between hosting and chivalry. There was no doubt in Elizabeth’s mind that she had found a truly chivalrous gentleman.

  And she intended to keep him.

  Chapter 15

  Whatever unrest had commenced at the beginning of the holiday quietly dissipated into the thinning late summer air. To Leonard, the only factor left hanging over the otherwise happy household was David, who continued to scrutinize Leonard with distrust and wariness.

  “I do not think your brother cares for me,” Leonard told Elizabeth as they sprawled out at a picnic one afternoon, ten days after their arrival. “I have attempted to speak with him but he acts sullenly and saunters away.”

  Elizabeth frowned and squinted at him across the gingham checked blanket, the sunlight streaming
into her eyes so that they resembled hot yellow embers.

  “I will have a word with him,” she promised. “Although it is uncommon for him to behave rudely to a host.”

  “I do not believe he views me as a host. I believe he sees me as a man who is taking his sister from him.”

  “That is nonsense! David should be happy to have someone whom he can regard as a brother figure.”

  A small grin appeared on Leonard’s face and he dropped onto his elbow to stare at her on the level which she lay.

  “A brother? Would that not take, say, marriage for such a feat to occur?”

  “Leonard!” she chided, her cheeks tinging the becoming pink he had come to love so well. Although he was only jesting with her, he did enjoy to see the way her face colored with his jokes.

  It was difficult to say when they had fallen into such perfect ease with one another. Leonard had forsaken the guise of hunting with the men now that his intentions were made abundantly clear—his desire was to be with Elizabeth, nothing more. That did not mean he did not embark on excursions with the Viscount and his son but most of his free hours were spent in the company of his lovely dark-haired guest. There was still work to be done in the duchy but if he was not poring over ledgers and visiting parliament, he found himself engaged in various activities with Elizabeth.

  They went for long walks along Cedar Creek and through the maze of woods surrounding Brookside. Elizabeth’s endless excitement at the barrage of flora and fauna tickled him, her childlike wonder reminiscent of her sister. It only furthered his belief that the Follett sisters were touched by something otherworldly.

  Herbert, certainly, agreed with him and Leonard had never seen the barrister so happy. Sometimes Frances and Herbert would join the Duke and Elizabeth for picnics or to trips to town but mostly, Leonard wished to harbor Elizabeth’s company for himself and said so without shame.

  That day, they had just finished a light meal of cheese, bread, kippers and cold meats. The wine had affected Leonard in precisely the proper way and he relished the way the light fell across the sleek line of Elizabeth’s face, shadowing her profile in a most alluring way.

  “I wish I were an artist,” he murmured. “I would paint you precisely as you are now and I would have this memory of you forever.”

  “You are quite the poet with that silver tongue of yours,” she replied, laughing. “Perhaps you can paint a picture with words.”

  “Do you care for me?” he asked suddenly and her smile did not falter.

  “Perhaps.”

  “Perhaps? My God, I have been chasing you about on a ‘perhaps’? Have I been wasting my time?” he asked with mock hurt, placing his hand over his heart in a most dramatic fashion.

  “I do not know another man who would demand a proclamation of adoration inside a fortnight,” she replied, unfazed by his melodrama. “If I were you, Leonard, I would not want a woman who made such professions, either.”

  Leonard laughed again, her wit astounding him. While he could not stop himself from japing at Elizabeth, he also knew that the feelings he was nurturing toward her were strong and growing more intense daily.

  It may not be love yet but we shall get there.

  Their eyes met and they shared a private smile. Leonard did not need to hear the words. Her eyes spoke volumes of her feelings. He would not demand any more of her than she was willing to give.

  “I am a patient man,” he sighed and her giggles filled his ears as he had known it would. It was something he said often and her response was always the same.

  “A patient man would not ask me to declare my admiration twice a day.”

  “A patient man would!” he protested. “A patient man would need to be sure you had not forgotten to tell him!”

  Elizabeth’s face turned serious suddenly and she cocked her head.

  “Does it trouble you that I am cautious?”

  He sat up, his own smile fading. Quickly, he reached across for her gloved hand and pulled her into a sitting position.

  “Elizabeth, I jest with you, it is true. But you must know I will wait for you. Do you still have doubts about us? About…” He did not wish to finish his thought as they had not spoken about Priscilla since that cursed day but if the notion still lingered in her mind, he needed to know.

  “About Miss Priscilla?”

  Her eyes widened and Leonard silently cursed himself for having brought the subject to surface.

  “I have not thought about her,” she replied and Leonard could read the truth in her face. “I swear, she is the last matter on my mind.”

  “What matters do haunt your mind?”

  A slight look of sadness crossed her face and again, Leonard wished he had the foresight to think through his questions before asking.

  “I am not certain you would like to know,” she sighed.

  “You are mistaken. There is nothing about you which I do not long to know.”

  A faint smile touched her lips but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

  “What will become of us after I leave here in a fortnight?” she asked softly.

  “We will write often and you will visit Pembroke,” Leonard replied, not a beat lost. He, too, had given a great deal of thought toward what would happen next.

  Of course, in his mind’s eye, he had envisioned Elizabeth returning to Gordon with a promise of marriage on her lips but they were still some weeks away from that.

  “I will travel to Gordon, of course.”

  “Yes, I imagine that is what will occur,” Elizabeth sighed. “But that is not what I meant entirely.”

  He stared at her quizzically.

  “I am afraid I do not understand your worries, my dear. Tell me what is on your mind.”

  She inhaled deeply and released a deep breath.

  “What if we are to marry, Leonard?”

  His pulse quickened.

  “Is it something you have considered, barely a fortnight in?” he teased but his mind was racing.

  “Our future is something I have considered, yes,” she answered quietly. “I do not see the point of continuing to court if we do not have a future together.”

  “Indeed,” Leonard agreed. “But I still do not understand your conundrum, Elizabeth. Forgive me, I am witless in your presence.”

  She laughed in spite of herself but again her face fell grave.

  “I would move to Pembroke and leave my family behind,” she explained and suddenly Leonard understood her plight.

  “I see.”

  They stared at one another in silence for a long moment. Elizabeth tried to force a smile upon her face but the act was futile and she merely grimaced sadly.

  “Forgive me,” she murmured. “I am being sentimental about matters which have not yet occurred—which may not occur.”

  She looked at him bashfully before darting her eyes away.

  “You are being you—the beautiful, kind, intelligent woman you are. It is most natural that you think of your family, of their future without you but I daresay you have forsaken two very important matters, Elizabeth.”

  “Which are?”

  “Your brother will be the Viscount one day. He will be the lord of the manor and running the household as he sees fit. Can you imagine a place where he would be happier?”

  “I suppose not,” she replied but there was very little conviction in her voice. “What is the second matter?”

  “Frances might marry Herbert before the matter of marriage ever arises between us.”

  Shock filled her face and Leonard saw that she genuinely had never considered the possibility.

  “That cannot occur!” she cried, yanking her hands back. Leonard felt himself bristle defensively on behalf of Herbert.

  “Herbert Barlough is an honorable man—”

  “Please, do not regale me with the speech about Mr. Barlough. I know he is a good man, one of the best I have ever known. I adore him and I know he loves my sister but Frances cannot marry anyone, Leonard. Can you not
see that? What kind of wife would she be?”

  More defensiveness filled Leonard although, suddenly, it was for Frances.

  “She will be the kind of wife who will love, cherish, honor and protect her husband, same as any other. She will possibly be better than most as her heart is pure, untainted, and unbiased by the cruelties of the world.”

  Elizabeth stared at him, her mouth becoming a line of upset.