by Abby Ayles
“It's true,” she continued. “The housekeeper at Wintercrest, Mrs. Peterson, she was just about the most awful woman I have ever met. She was so cruel and short with everyone. Very often, she was abrasive with me. I did a very good job of keeping my mouth shut in those situations.”
Lord Dunthorpe raised a blond brow again in disbelief.
“I did. Well, at least I did for as long as she was in earshot,” Isabella added with a giggle.
“As I suspected. I suppose it is better than the governess telling off the head housekeeper. I must admit, however, I would have been sorely sad if you had said you had cured your tongue altogether. Its sharp bite has been quite entertaining for me.” He thought for a moment, “Well, at least when I am not the one it is pointed at.”
“It is about to be pointed at you right now if you do not stop your irritating teasing,” Isabella responded, looking up at her dear friend's older brother.
“Come then, let us go to tea. Perhaps the refreshment might protect me from your wrath or, at the very least, your pinches,” he added playfully, leading her back into the house.
They went into the drawing room and each took a seat on opposite sofas. Isabella began to pour as the tea was placed before them.
“Do tell me what you have been up to over the last year. Have you finally found a young woman to tame your wild nature?”
“No,” he said, leaning back in his seat and dropping an arm across the top, “I’m afraid I offend and terrify all that I encounter.”
“That can’t be true? You have a very handsome look to you.”
“Yes, but then I open my mouth,” Lord Dunthorpe said with a wide smile. “Most ladies don’t approve of my racing or other eccentric habits.”
“I suppose you would be quite a handful. Don’t worry; I am sure there must be one miss up to the task of taming your wild ways.”
“Yes, well, Mother and Father are quite hoping so. I think they fear that I will never marry. I suppose,” he said as he wrinkled his brow in thought, “I have found plenty of misses’ as you have mentioned, wanting to change me, but I would rather like one who would join me, instead.”
“Well then, don’t let her see you race your traps before you marry her. One look at your breakneck speed and I scarcely think she would ever get in a carriage with you again.”
“You’ve seen me, and you still get in carriages with me.”
“And I say a little prayer every time,” Isabella retorted with a smile.
“I’ve got some news for you, Izzy,” Lord Dunthorpe said after a small lull in the conversation. “I’ve debated telling you over these past few days, but I think I should.”
“Well, what is it?”
“The Duke of Wintercrest and his family have recently taken up their London home.”
Isabella did her best not to show any reaction to the news although her heart leaped instantly in her chest. “Oh,” was all she could find to leave her lips.
“I found this out when we received an invitation to a ball they are having to introduce the duke officially. It is in a fortnight’s time.”
“I must admit, I am a little surprised they sent you that invitation. The duke thought it would be a nice treat for me to have Louisa present. I didn’t think after…well, I guess it just goes to show how kind they are.”
“The invitation included you, as well,” he said gently. “Do you think you will go?”
“I can’t imagine that I could stand to do so.”
“Because of your feelings for the duke.” Lord Dunthorpe said this as a fact more than a question.
“How did- did Louisa tell you?”
“No. It was just pretty easy to see that you were heartbroken. Not to mention the fact that you have talked on end about every member of that household except the duke.”
Isabella looked down into her teacup, embarrassed that she had given herself away. She knew she would never overcome her feelings for the duke, but she had hoped that she was better at hiding them.
“I guess the only reason I bring all this up is that I think you should go. I know that it's not something you're going to decide on lightly, so I thought I might give you plenty of time to think it over.”
“Oh, I really couldn’t. Mr. Jenkins has high hopes for our case, but I can’t imagine all will be solved in time. I wouldn’t let your family be seen in public with me, or disgrace the Wintercrests like that.”
“You will never be a disgrace to this family, so don’t you ever think that,” Lord Dunthorpe inserted. “As I said, I am just telling you now so that you can consider going over the next few weeks.”
Isabella sat in her shared room, later that evening, reading a book. The Gilcrests were currently at a dinner that they had been invited to, so Isabella had the whole of the house to herself. A soft knock interrupted her reading.
“Beggin’ your pardon, miss, but a caller’s come to the door,” the maid's voice said smoothly.
“A caller? At so late an hour? Please, just tell them the Gilcrests are out for the evening.”
“I did so, miss. He said he has come to see you.”
“Oh, alright then,” Isabella said, taking a moment to fix her hair and smooth her cotton dress.
She couldn’t help but get butterflies as she made her way down the stairs and into the drawing room. It had only been a few hours since Lord Dunthorpe had divulged that the Duke of Wintercrest was in London. She had thought of nothing else since that moment. As much as she had told herself that she hoped the duke would move past her, she also secretly hoped he was the one who had come to call.
However, when she entered the room, she did not see the tall, broad shoulder figure of the duke, but rather the friendly face of Mr. Jenkins. Isabella did her best to hide her disappointment both inwardly and out.
“Mr. Jenkins! How nice of you to stop by,” Isabella said, sitting down.
Mr. Jenkins looked as nervous as he had that very first meeting in his office over a year ago.
“Is something wrong?” Isabella asked.
He moved in a jerking manner as he came to take a seat.
“I am sorry to call on you at such a late hour, but I figured you wouldn’t want me to wait a moment before telling you.”
“Yes, please do. You are scaring me a little,” Isabella said as she fidgeted with her own hands in her lap.
She tried her best to seem cool and collected. Inwardly, she had been a flurry of emotions since leaving Wintercrest. She wasn’t sure that she would be able to stand any more bad news if that was what Mr. Jenkins came to deliver.
“I spoke with several of my colleagues. As you know, I am preparing to take your case before a local judge and call for a public revoke of Mr. Smith’s claims. I am sorry to say that, after I explained the whole of the situation to them, they did not find it very favorable to us. In fact, a fear they brought to my attention is that if we do take our current case before the courts and the judges don’t side with us, Mr. Smith may take his cause with more evil intent.”
“I can’t possibly see how he could make things any worse than they already are.” Isabella did her best to control the sorrow and rage both vying for her attention.
“Well, he could take you to debtors’ court and demand the money from you. As of now, he is simply using his false claims to hold off his own debts. He may, however, take things farther. If he does so, you may find yourself in debtors’ prison.”
Isabella covered a gasp. She couldn’t even begin to understand how her life had turned around so much since her father’s death. How had she gone from a respected young woman to a possible imprisoned criminal?
“I know this all sounds very awful right now. Please, let me assure you that there is still one last hope.”
“Well, by all means, tell me quickly.”
“You remember that, at our first meeting upon your return to London, I assured you that all payments would be deferred until we won our case?”
“Yes,” Isabella encouraged,
not seeing how this could be the start of good news.
“I actually fibbed a bit. It is not the case. In fact, the Duke of Wintercrest has asked to be sent all bills pertaining to your legal counsel and in return, asked that I keep him informed on all matters pertaining to your case.”
“He did what?” Isabella stammered in disbelief.
“I have also been in conference with him much over the last few days,” Mr. Jenkins continued. “He has combined with me every resource at hand. I met with him just before coming here and informed him just as I have told you.”
“And how is this a ray of hope for me? At the moment, I only feel shame and guilt that my past employer would take so much upon himself.”
“After I informed His Grace of the current circumstances, he promptly stood and announced that he would now handle the matter himself.”
“What does that mean?” Isabella asked, her emerald eyes filling with fear for his reputation.
“I cannot say with complete certainty. I would guess, however, that the duke intends to meet with Mr. Smith and settle the matter. It has been done before with gentlemen of the duke’s means.”
“You mean you think he will pay Mr. Smith to stop harassing me. I could never allow such a thing. There must be a way that will not involve the duke. I won't see his reputation, or his family’s, for that matter, ruined over me.”
“I’m very sorry, Miss Watts, but at this time, I fear that this may be the only way for you to escape such a wicked man. I don’t agree with the fact that Mr. Smith will be getting what he wanted and that justice was not able to prove the right. The law is a delicate matter, and sometimes the only means of justice for wrongfully accused, such as yourself, is out of my hands.”
Chapter 39
The Duke of Wintercrest did his best to steady his nerves. He paced up and down the street of his townhouse for many hours before finally going inside. He couldn’t believe that, after all that had been done in the protection of Isabella, that scoundrel was still going to get away with what he had done.
Had the duke been a naval man still, he would have considered settling this matter as most men did on the ship, inside a boxing ring. The duke flexed his hands again. What he wouldn’t give to go a round with this man.
It wasn’t the way things were settled back here in town, however. The duke despised the fact that this villain would now be given everything he wanted, only to right the wrong he willfully created.
The duke didn’t care much for the matter of the cost. He would gladly pay any amount to seek justice for the woman he cared about. In fact, he did rather like the fact that this would give him the expedited end that he had known was necessary before even leaving his country seat.
He hated, however, how smug he knew his unknown villain would be on the morrow when the duke proposed any means necessary for him to retract his words.
It must have been the end that this Mr. Smith sought after all. He knew that Mr. Smith had no other means to pay over the amount owed after such a failed venture. The moment Mr. Smith found out that Isabella was living in the duke’s home, he, no doubt, produced this plan as a means to have someone else pay his own debts.
Even worse, the duke knew that once Mr. Smith saw he was getting all he wanted, it would never be enough. He had to think up some means to make sure that Mr. Smith would settle for the agreed upon amount and never come after Isabella, nay, even think her name, ever again.
The duke combed over everything he knew of the knave for the rest of the night, including most of the personal, corporate documents that he had purchased from a disgruntled employee.
It wasn’t until dawn’s light that the duke finally saw the answer that had been staring at him all through the night. He smiled excitedly as he rummaged through his copy of documents, proving to himself that what he was seeing was, in fact, true.
He smiled to himself as he sat back in his chair for the first time since leaving Mr. Jenkins’ office. He had the means to make sure Mr. Smith never bothered Isabella again.
The duke quickly changed into a fresh cravat and coat and made his way back down the townhouse stairs to leave at once. He knew that Mr. Smith, a man of business, would be at the docks at this early hour. The duke would not waste a minute in finally putting all back to right.
“Christian,” his mother’s voice called from her room before he made his way fully down the stairs.
“Are you going somewhere so early in the morning?” she asked as she wrapped a dressing gown around her.
“Yes, I have some business to attend to. It won’t take more than a few hours. I should even be home in time for breakfast.”
“Is this about Isabella?” his mother asked, coming to stand at the top of the stairs. “Don’t think that I was blind to the real reason you insisted we all come to London. I am well aware of the various business ventures you have been making on her behalf while we have been here in town.”
“I just,” Lady Wintercrest paused to make sure she got her wording right. “I just want you to pause and think about your actions first. What if this ruins Abigail’s chances or maybe even Jaqueline’s.”
“Do not worry on my behalf,” another voice called from behind the duke’s mother.
Lady Abigail also stepped from her room. She had also awoken and had been listening to the whole of the conversation held on the stairwell.
“I will not ask you to give up your happiness for the future chance of mine. I love you dearly, brother, and Isabella too. I will not rob you. If I cannot find a gentleman that will overlook wrongs done to my family, then I dare say I wouldn’t want to have him anyway.” Lady Abigail spoke with a fire that matched her red hair, currently flowing around her in a wild, early morning mess.
The duke walked back up the stairs to stand next to two of the most important women in his life.
“Mother, I do intend to right the wrong that has been done to Isabella. You are right in thinking this. I also intend to march straight over to Isabella the moment I am done with the matter. I intend to marry her.”
The duke spoke the words with a tender but final tone. He wanted his mother’s blessing on the matter but also knew that he could live without it more than he could live without Isabella.
“I too, love Isabella dearly,” his mother replied, “but are you sure this is the course you want to take? It will not be an easy one for either of you.” She meant the words for both of her children. She looked between them, making sure they understood the gravity of the situation.
The duke kept his eyes on his sister to see that she was in complete awareness of the consequences of what she was about to accept. She looked back at him and gave a nod of approval.
The duke broke out into a warm smile and kissed his sister on the cheek.
“Save your kisses for your bride,” Lady Abigail teased back, giving him a sibling shove.
“I suppose, if this is the course you wish to take, I will accept it. Your poor father would turn in his grave if he knew you intended to wed the governess. I, on the other hand,” Lady Wintercrest said with a wicked grin much like the one her son often gave, “am happy that you have found someone to love truly.”
The duke thanked his mother before returning down the stairs and out the door. Both ladies returned to their own rooms, though they were much too awake to go back to sleep.
The duke thought on his mother’s words as he rode in his carriage to the docks. His mother had chosen propriety in her match over love. Perhaps she had been hesitant because it had worked out well in the end for her.
The duke could not say for certain that his parents ever loved each other, but they did have a mutual affection. He knew that his mother cared deeply for Isabella and wished for nothing more than the happiness of her children, but perhaps she worried that choosing love might lose its luster over time.
As a woman who had never had the chance to experience such emotions herself, it was no wonder that she could not see that such a thing was not possible. The
duke was sure he would move heaven and earth for Isabella’s wellbeing and happiness. That would never change over time, except to increase.
As the duke came upon the merchant front, he returned his thoughts to the problem at hand. He couldn’t help but notice the freshly painted sign overhanging the entrance. It read “Baron and Smith Shipping Co.” The ‘and’ was extremely small, making it look like Baron Smith.
It only fueled the duke's rage more to see that this man had the audacity to take from his business partner everything that Baron Leinister had, including his own daughter's reputation, and then attempt to steal his name as well.
This Mr. Smith seemed to have no honor or compassion for the dead at all. The duke wondered how Isabella’s father could have been friends with such a salty character.
He knew, of course, from his time at sea that most men who employed themselves on the ocean had less than outstanding morals. That said, usually only those of good character were promoted as far as partner in a prestigious shipping company.
The duke strolled into the building with his head held high and shoulders back. Even for the early hour, the offices were already filled and busy with work. He stopped before a gentleman busily writing on parchment.
“I have come to speak with the proprietor of the business, a Mr. Smith.”
The man looked the duke up and down. He could easily tell from his fine coat and exquisitely placed knot that he was a gentleman of means.
“Yes, m’lord. And who should I tell Mr. Smith is calling on ‘im?”
“The Duke of Wintercrest,” the duke said, handing over his card. “Though Mr. Smith is not expecting me, I wager he will be most eager to meet.”
“Right away, Your Grace,” the secretary said with larger eyes now and a bob to his head.
The man hurried down the hall and up a set of stairs to the main office where Mr. Smith was. The duke paced the room a few times again, making sure he checked his anger. It would do him no good to fly into a rage at the man.
He was best to face the villain with a calm and cool nature. He heard footsteps returning and reminded himself to take another steadying breath.
