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

by Emma Linfield

  Tears of gratefulness filled Elizabeth’s eyes and she hobbled toward the robust woman.

  “You aren’t catching now, are you?” she asked suspiciously and Elizabeth shook her head vehemently.

  “I am hurt, not ill,” she promised. “I only need to find my way to Pembroke.”

  Her words escaped in uneven rasps and Elizabeth could not be certain if Mama understood them. If she did, she made no indication and instead ushered Elizabeth along toward the street. A small group had gathered and it did not take much effort to guess that they were there to gawk at Elizabeth. Word of her arrival had spread through the street and all the shop owners peered at her speculatively, whispering without discretion as they stared.

  I cannot escape scrutiny anywhere I go, Elizabeth thought grimly but it truly was the least of her concerns in the moment. She did not much worry about what the folks in a town she did not know had to say about her. Her only objective was returning to Brookside, to show her family and Leonard that she had survived.

  Mama led her into a small, windowless store up a set of perilous stairs. For a moment, Elizabeth froze, unable to breathe. She was reminded of the root cellar.

  “Come along now,” Mama insisted. “You have nothing to fear with me.”

  The words inspired some confidence in her and Elizabeth managed to make her way up the steps, the woman flanking her side. The children had located the supplies Mama had ordered, a small pile of blankets and a pitcher of water sitting on a careworn floor inside the dank room.

  “Drink,” Mama instructed, gesturing at the carafe but Elizabeth was already stumbling toward it. She gulped back large sips until Mama cautioned her to go slowly.

  “You will make yourself sick.” Instantly, Elizabeth felt her stomach lurch and she pulled the pitcher from her mouth. She stared sheepishly at the peasant woman who returned her stare, unsmiling.

  “Who are you?” she demanded again. “You say you have been kidnapped but we do not know you.”

  “Miss Elizabeth Follett, second daughter to the Viscount of Gordon.”

  Mama’s eyes grew wide with recognition and her spine straightened.

  “Miss Elizabeth!” she gasped. “I did not recognize you!”

  Elizabeth continued to watch the older woman but she could not place her.

  “You know me?”

  “I know of you,” Mama explained. “I am Mrs. Rachel Cutler. I have seen you about town on occasion.”

  “This town?”

  “And others. I am a seamstress. I have worked in Gordon frequently.”

  Elizabeth nodded but little was making sense in her over-exerted mind.

  “Am I in Gordon?” she asked, confused but suddenly she thought of the woods where she had been held and how they had been oddly familiar.

  Could I have been in Gordon all along? Was I close to home?

  “No, Miss Elizabeth. You are in Wakefield.”

  “In Argonshire?”

  “Yes, Miss. Please, sit and get warm. You are chattering with cold. I will find some food for you.”

  I am not far from Pembroke, Elizabeth realized. Argonshire is where Miss Priscilla hails from.

  She sank onto a nearby chair and Rachel rushed to drape a blanket about her shoulders.

  “I must return to Pembroke,” Elizabeth finally said. “My father believes me endangered still.”

  “You cannot travel until you are examined by Dr. Mallory,” Rachel told her firmly. “And you must eat. How many days has it been since you have touched food?”

  The memory of eating was hazy and Elizabeth knew she was right. It would serve no good to start out again when she was in such terrible shape.

  “Who took you, Miss Elizabeth? Have you been defiled?”

  The pointed question sent a blush to Elizabeth’s cheeks and she frowned slightly but the expression on Rachel’s face was only of concern, not nosiness. Suddenly, the woman appeared much less sour-faced than hardened by life.

  “No. Nothing untoward occurred. It was a kidnapping for ransom—”

  She abruptly stopped speaking, biting on her lower lip. She dared not give ideas to this less than prosperous woman. Rachel sensed her hesitation and smiled wryly.

  “I may be poor, Miss Elizabeth but I am not without scruples. I am a mother first and I am honorable, despite my lack of noble blood.”

  Shame flooded Elizabeth and she ducked her head down as though that would stop Rachel from reading the thought that had already crossed her mind. She thought of Lucy, the maid in Fife and what she had said about nobles.

  Certainly a noble is responsible for my kidnapping. I was taken by commoners but I would be a fool to believe someone else was not behind this devious scheme.

  “Forgive me, Mrs. Cutler,” she whispered. “I fear my wits are frayed. I only wish to return home to my family.”

  And to Leonard.

  “You will be reunited with your family forthwith,” Rachel told her. “You need not fret but as I say, first, you must rest.”

  “Mrs. Cutler?” The sound of footfalls on the stairs caused Elizabeth to tense but she eased back when a older man of perhaps five-and-fifty entered the apartment.

  “What is the meaning of this? The children claim you have a hurt noblewoman?”

  “Dr. Mallory, you have come,” Rachel sighed with relief. “This is—”

  “Miss Elizabeth!” the physician cried. “Indeed!”

  He hurried toward her, a medical bag in hand, as Rachel’s small children appeared at the threshold. Elizabeth stared at the doctor, more shame touching her soul. How could it be that these people knew of her but she did not know them? A mere difference in title and wealth should not make them less important.

  “Ingrid, Larry, off with you now. You have chores to do at the house,” Rachel told her children sternly.

  “Oh, Mama, can we not stay? We have yet to hear her tale!” Ingrid pleaded but Rachel shook her head.

  “Give Miss Elizabeth the privacy she is due.”

  Pouting, the children scampered off.

  “Thank you!” Elizabeth called after them. “Thank you for helping me.”

  They paused to peer back at her in surprise.

  “We could not leave you there to die,” Larry said, his face gleaming with untold innocence. A sob of relief rose in Elizabeth’s throat. After days of being treated so cruelly, she had found unexpected kindness in strangers and she was overwhelmed. She was in a place where greed had not darkened their hearts, despite their lack of luxuries.

  This world is askew, Elizabeth thought mournfully.

  “There there, Miss Elizabeth. All is well now,” Rachel told her gently. “Permit Dr. Mallory to look you over now.”

  She turned her attention back to the physician who told hold of her wrists and began to dab at them with alcohol. The burn did not bother Elizabeth in the least as she knew it was clearing any infection which may have arisen.

  “Thank you,” she murmured again. “I will see that you are properly recompensed for your generosity.”

  “Nonsense,” Rachel barked. “We take care of one another. It is the proper thing to do.”

  “You sit back and rest a while, Miss Elizabeth,” Dr. Mallory told her as he tended to her wounds. “I will send word to Gordon that you are safe.”

  “To Pembroke,” Elizabeth corrected. “That is where my family waits for me…”

  Elizabeth trailed off, unsure if that was so. Could her father have returned to Gordon? She had no way of knowing. She shook her fuzzy mind, as though to clear it.

  “To Pembroke then. We will find a messenger boy to send word,” Rachel offered.

  “There is no need—I will travel there myself. I do not intend to rest long.”

  She had no money to pay for such a messenger and she would not have Rachel spare the expense, even temporarily.

  “First you must gather your strength,” Rachel insisted. “I will see to food for you.”

  She moved toward the stairs and cast Elizabe
th a warm but worried smile before disappearing into the dark stairwell.

  “You are safe now, Miss,” Elizabeth heard her say as her footfalls retreated and for the first time in days, Elizabeth knew that was the truth.

  “Rest now,” Dr. Mallory insisted. “In mere hours you will be reunited with your family.”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes but she did not sleep. She vowed that she would not rest again until she was staring into Leonard’s warm gaze.

  Chapter 29

  With trembling hands, Leonard accepted the goblet from Jacob, his heart thudding ferociously. About him, he was surrounded by baleful looks.

  “She is dead!” Percival moaned endlessly, the horrific words echoing through Leonard’s ears. “You have killed her and for what? To save yourself some money?”

  “Stop saying that, Father!” David roared. “Elizabeth is full of wits and she will find a way to safety!”

  Yet even the young man could not stop glaring daggers in the Duke’s direction. No one could fathom why he had antagonized the highwaymen, not even his sister.

  “Leo, what were you thinking?” Catherine whispered. “Why did you not pay the ransom?”

  Leonard took a large swig of the port, downing the liquid at once. He had explained to the household why he had made the decision yet no one shared his confidence. It left him second-guessing his choice.

  What if I am wrong? Will I ever be able to live with myself if I know I have killed Elizabeth?

  The thought was too much to bear but as the hours ticked by and there was no word from the Viscount’s daughter, Leonard was faced with the insurmountable reality that he had done something from which he could not retreat.

  “What if there is a way to try again,” Leonard mumbled although he spoke only one of the many jumbled ideas in his mind. He was not convinced he would act any differently if presented with Cooper again.

  “Yes!” Percival said excitedly. “There must be a way to contact these men! We will find a way to ensure the ransom is paid still—”

  “Cooper will not trust His Grace again,” David interjected flatly. “Our opportunity to get Elizabeth back safely has passed. There is nothing we can do but pray now.”

  “That will not suffice!” Percival howled, slamming his fists against Leonard’s desk but the Duke was far too involved in his own thoughts to notice. The rest of the household, however, jumped at the movement.

  “I will meet with Cooper!” Percival continued. “I had nothing to do with what occurred last night!”

  “Even if Cooper were to trust you,” Leonard snapped, hoping to settle some sense into the babbling Viscount. “How would you find him?”

  Percival gaped at Leonard and slowly closed his mouth.

  “Perhaps he will send another letter?” Percival mumbled. “He cannot be happy to be left with nothing!”

  Silence lingered until the sound of hooves attracted Leonard’s attention from beyond the study’s windows. Everyone moved to peer outside at once, hope gathering in the room but it deflated just as quickly as it had swelled.

  “Herbert has returned from London!” Catherine cried but she remained at the window. “He appears to be alone.”

  Leonard moved from his chair and they all ran to greet the barrister at the entranceway where he was being helped from his horse. The expression on his face spoke volumes to what had happened on his journey.

  “What was said in London? Are the Robin Redbreasts familiar with this Cooper?” Leonard demanded but he sensed the answer even before Herbert shook his head.

  “I am afraid not, Your Grace. The Redbreasts rarely come this far south on their tours but even so, the name meant nothing to them.”

  “Another useless endeavor,” David grunted. Leonard peered at the boy, noting the tears forming in his eyes but he did struggle to keep his emotions hidden. In days, David’s demeanor had altered in ways which would never again capture his youthful innocence.

  This experience has aged him. It has aged all of us.

  “Your Grace, I will prepare for the afternoon meal. There is no sense in discussing such a terrible matter on empty stomachs,” Beatrice offered quickly, attempting to alleviate the mountain of pressure which was ready to explode like a volcano of hot lava among the courtyard. The idea of eating churned Leonard’s gut but he knew that the household did need to be cared for. He remembered his promise to himself the previous day, where he swore to take better care of his family.

  When Elizabeth returns, I cannot have her see her siblings in pieces. She will never forgive me for such neglect.

  Leonard continued to think in those terms—when Elizabeth returned. He could not face the bleakness of the situation any other way.

  “Yes, Beatrice,” Leonard agreed tersely. “We will gather for our meal.”

  “How can you eat at a time like this?” David snapped. “I—”

  “We will all eat,” Percival interjected slowly. “The Duke is right to instruct it. There is nothing more we can do but wait.”

  “What will I tell Miss Follett?” Herbert murmured. “She has been waiting for word on Miss Elizabeth all night.”

  Guilt consumed Leonard for he had no answer to the query. He knew Herbert had not asked it in hopes of an answer. It was merely one more woe which everyone was forced to endure.

  “I will wash and join you in the dining hall,” Leonard answered instead, quickening his step to avoid further conversation with anyone. Inside his apartment, the Duke lingered.

  I have failed Elizabeth. I have failed all the Folletts, he bemoaned. I should not have betrayed Cooper.

  The more he thought about the previous night, the more he wondered why he had reacted so impulsively. It had seemed so clear in the moment but in the cold light of day, he loathed the decision.

  “Duke?” Percival’s voice called excitedly through the door, followed by a rapid succession of sharp raps. “Are you present?”

  Leonard’s impulse was to ignore the Viscount but there was something in Percival’s voice which told him to open the door.

  “Forgive me, Duke,” Percival gushed, thrusting a note into his hands. “The kidnappers have made contact again! They are willing to permit us another opportunity to deliver the ransom!”

  Leonard stared at him in disbelief and wrenched the note upward.

  “Where did you find this?” he demanded. “When did it come?”

  The note read: THIS IS YOUR FINAL CHANCE TO SEE MISS ELIZABETH ALIVE. LORD GORDON WILL DELIVER THE RANSOM ALONE OR THE GIRL DIES. NO MORE OPPORTUNITIES. MIDNIGHT AT THE OLD MILL.

  “It was in my quarters when I went to change my clothes,” Percival choked. “We have been blessed!”

  Leonard shook his head.

  “It is a trick,” he heard himself say. “He was furious with me. You cannot go.”

  “You cannot refuse!” Percival cried. “You have already upset them!”

  “I need time to think,” Leonard muttered. “Leave me.”

  “Duke!”

  “Please, Lord Gordon, you must leave me in peace.”

  He closed the door and moved toward the window, peering out into the courtyard.

  How has Cooper gained access to this house? Lord Cooke has a spy inside our walls!

  Knocking at the door to his chambers continued but Leonard did not heed it. His mind was far too confused for conversation.

  “Leo?”

  Catherine did not wait for an invitation inside the apartment and she hurried to his side.

  “Has there been another letter? Lord Gordon said—”

  He handed her the paper in his hands which she read it with wide eyes.

  “My word! How do they continue to get onto the property?” she muttered. “Are the guards suspect?”

  Leonard’s head throbbed mercilessly. He wanted to yell at his sister that everyone was suspect, that no one was free from suspicion. Until that moment, however, he had not considered that the guards might also be party to the endless nightmare which plagued t
hem.

  “What will you do?” Catherine demanded when he did not reply. “Will you permit him to meet the kidnappers?”

  “I haven’t much of a choice in the matter,” Leonard told her bitterly. “Elizabeth has not returned as I expected she would. It is our best hope to see this through, as I should have.”

  “You must not fault yourself, Leo. Your instinct was to have faith but we have been given another chance to get her home. You cannot dismiss this gift.”