The Grace of a Duke

by Linda Rae Sande

  Seamus’ smile broadened. “Your housekeeper is earning her keep this week,” he replied happily, helping himself to an ale and leaning on the bar. “She’s got all the lady folk making ribbons and bows, or cutting flowers.”

  “Really?” Joshua spoke in disbelief, finding he wasn’t necessarily surprised at the news, but hearing it making him even more anxious. “Good God.”

  “And she’s got the men folk building trestle tables and benches for the big breakfast out of that oak tree that came down in the storm,” Seamus offered before he took another drink. “Says we can have them after the celebration to use for firewood this winter, if need be. Seems kind of a shame. If I might, Your Grace, I’d maybe put in to buy some for in here. Could use some new tables for when we serve luncheon,” he explained when Joshua didn’t appear to follow his reasoning.

  “That sounds … very reasonable,” Joshua agreed, nodding. “But I can’t see why you’d have to pay for them if they’re being given away for firewood.” That poor oak, Joshua thought, suddenly realizing just then that if Lady Charlotte hadn’t come to Wisborough Oaks, that tree would still be standing. At least it was being put to good use, he considered.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, Your Grace,” Seamus was saying, “Is she pretty?”

  The question took Joshua by surprise. “Pretty?” he repeated. He shook his head as if to clear it. “Oh, Lady Charlotte?” he asked then, suddenly not sure to whom the barkeep referred.

  “Your bride, aye,” Seamus confirmed with a nod. “Is she pretty? I hear she’s from London and right pretty.”

  The duke regarded the barkeep for a moment. “She is actually rather beautiful,” he said with a nod. “We’ll have to come for luncheon someday so you can meet her,” he offered before taking another swallow of the ale, noticing the sour after taste for the first time. He was aware that several women had come into the tavern, taking seats on the side where food was served. Their conversation was animated, their high-pitched voices carrying easily to where he sat in the taproom.

  “The lawn will look lovely,” one was saying happily.

  “And we’ve got just enough white linen to cover the tables,” another put in.

  “The gown is simply divine. I don’t know how Mrs. Gates arranged to get it done so quickly, but she did,” a third said as if she was in awe.

  “Have you seen the bride yet?”

  “No, but I hear she’s a beauty.”

  “Too bad she’s marrying a man with such an ugly puss.”

  “What a terrible thing to say!”

  “But it’s true. You watch. She’ll be taking a lover before the first heir is born.”

  “I think the duke is a rather handsome man myself, even with his mask.”

  “You’re old enough to be his mother!” A round of titters followed this statement before the serving girl interrupted to take their order.

  Joshua Wainwright didn’t hear the last few comments, the ones before it burning his ears until they felt like they were on fire. Again.

  Having easily overheard the women’s chit-chat, Seamus knew the duke had heard it as well. “Don’t pay that old biddy any mind, Your Grace,” he said as he leaned over. “As I hear it told, your Lady Charlotte is quite smitten with you.”

  Smitten. Joshua almost smiled at the description, but the words of the old woman came to mind and quickly snuffed out any humor he might have felt just then. “Thank you, Seamus. I must be on my way. I have quite a ride ahead of me,” Joshua said as he placed a coin on the bar. He stood up and quickly left the tavern, hoping that none of the women looked his way as he walked out, for if they did, they would recognize him immediately from the mask he wore. He nearly jerked the reins from the boy who held them out for him, nodding curtly as he did so and mounting so quickly that his horse was nearly spooked. Rather than cantering through the village as he normally did, Joshua urged his horse into a full gallop.

  She’ll take a lover before the first heir is born.

  Joshua tried to erase the sound of the words in his head, his attempt to do so only making them taunt him even more. Lady Charlotte was beautiful. She was duty-bound to marry him. And she might eventually come to care for him, maybe even to feel affection for him. But he would always have the scars from the fire. He would always have ‘the ugly puss.’ He would always be ‘His Grace with half a face.’

  So engrossed was he in his dark thoughts, Joshua didn’t notice the landscape as it sped by, didn’t notice the tenants who straightened from their labors to wave or bow in his direction, didn’t notice the sounds of birdsong and insects in the meadow.

  And he almost didn’t notice Dr. Regan before his mount suddenly slowed and reared up at the sight of the physician on his horse. Nearly dismounted, Joshua held onto the reins and kept his boots firmly planted in the stirrups until his stallion regained his footing.

  “Good day, Your Grace,” Dr. Regan said as he tipped his hat, his expression recovering from one of shock the moment before. “I apologize for being in your path,” he said, expertly maneuvering his horse onto the side of the trail.

  Joshua took a deep breath, realizing he was the one at fault for nearly causing a collision. “I … I apologize, doctor. I have been too deep into my thoughts, I suppose,” he murmured, suddenly embarrassed at what had happened.

  “Apology accepted, of course,” Dr. Regan replied with nod. “Let me be the first to wish you happy,” he added, his gaze taking in Joshua’s tense posture. He noticed the duke did not meet his gaze and wondered what was wrong.

  At first perplexed by the comment, Joshua had to remind himself he was getting married in the morning. “Thank you,” he said with a curt nod, his expression still not cordial.

  Dr. Regan regarded the duke for a long moment, saw the way he breathed deeply, as if he had run the distance from Kirdford instead of his horse. “Are you … well, Your Grace?” he asked carefully.

  Joshua’s eyes finally met the doctor’s. “Yes, of course,” he countered, a bit defensively. He closed his eyes and then opened them slowly. “My face hurts. My left side is … stiff. I still cannot raise my left arm.” He listed his ills only because he knew the doctor would force them out of him if he didn’t volunteer the information.

  “But you are sleeping, I see,” Dr. Regan stated.

  Joshua’s visible brow furrowed as he stared at the doctor. “Yes,” he admitted then, realizing only then that these past nights spent with Charlotte pressed against his side were the only nights since the fire that he’d been able to sleep through the night. The only nights his dreams weren’t consumed by nightmares of flames licking him, of the sound of roaring in his ears, of his lungs ceasing from too much smoke, of his sister’s lifeless body in his arms as he carried her through the burning hallway and down the stairs and into the cool night air.

  “She’s been good for your recovery, then,” the older man commented with just a hint of a grin.

  Joshua felt a flush rise and color his throat and face. How dare he speak of Charlotte that way? he thought, and then chided himself for assuming the doctor’s words were salacious. “Has she,” Joshua replied finally, no hint of a question in the remark.

  Dr. Regan noticed the duke’s increasing tension and wondered if Joshua was regretting his decision to marry the daughter of the Earl of Ellsworth. “I just came from Wisborough Oaks,” he finally spoke, a bit of caution in his voice. At the comment, Joshua returned his attention to the doctor. “I took the stitches out of Lady Charlotte’s back. She is healing quite well,” he said with satisfaction. He looked away for a moment and then returned his attention to Joshua. “She will still need to stay off her back for a time, though,” he said, his voice almost a warning.

  Quite aware of the meaning behind the doctor’s words, Joshua nodded. “I assure you she will not be allowed to lie on her back until you say it is alright for her to do so,” he spat out, not meaning for his words to sound so angry. At least I can be sure she won’t be seek
ing a lover to share her bed anytime soon, he thought, his spiteful attitude surprising him.

  “May I inquire as to what has you vexed, Your Grace?” Dr. Regan queried gently. He had moved his horse so that his was nearly alongside Joshua’s. He saw the taut muscles beneath the duke’s riding clothes, saw the tension in his shoulders and the way Joshua’s jaw seemed to twitch. “Are you getting … cold feet?” he asked suddenly, a look of amusement changing his serious expression enough to make the doctor appear as a man much younger than the duke knew him to be.

  Realizing his demeanor was too serious, Joshua schooled his features so that he appeared more relaxed. “I think that must be it,” he lied, before wondering what the truth was.

  She’ll take a lover before the first heir is born.

  “I must get back now,” Joshua stated as he took up the slack reins. “Will we see you tomorrow?” he asked, his voice sounding much lighter.

  “Indeed. I wouldn’t miss it, Your Grace. Mrs. Gates was quite insistent that everyone in the dukedom attend the wedding feast, you must know.” With that, the doctor nodded and was off toward the village.

  Everyone in the dukedom? Joshua thought in dismay. The way things were this very moment, he thought there might indeed be a feast, but he rather doubted it would be a wedding feast.

  She’ll take a lover before the first heir is born.

  Chapter 30

  Lady Charlotte and His Grace Share a Spat

  “Did you have a good ride, Your Grace?” Charlotte wondered as she met Joshua near the front door. He had shed his riding coat and hat and was giving them to Gates when she came down the stairs from the west wing.

  Joshua nodded, his mood somewhat somber. At the use of his title, his spine stiffened. “What did I tell you to call me?” he asked in a hushed voice, a hint of venom lurking beneath the question.

  Charlotte swallowed, but hooked her arm into his and led him toward the dining room. “Did you mean for me to address you as ‘Joshua’ in front of the servants?” she wondered quietly, her manner suddenly very guarded.

  Joshua sighed and shook his head. “Wainwright,” he countered, his impatience quite evident. “Call me ‘Wainwright’ while in the company of others and ‘Joshua’ when we are in private,” his words sounding clipped.

  Suddenly afraid of him, Charlotte nodded and said, “Of course, Wainwright.” They walked in silence, but before they reached the dining room, Joshua steered them into the library. He shoved her hand off of his arm and moved to stand near the window, an elbow propping him up as rage suddenly filled him again.

  “Joshua, what is it?” Charlotte whispered, moving to join him. She halted, though, when the duke turned and aimed a threatening look in her direction.

  “Don’t you think I have heard the on dit from London?” he asked suddenly, a finger pointing at his good ear. Startled by his anger, Charlotte stepped back, one hand going to her bosom. “How long would it be, Lady Charlotte, before you decided that life with ‘His Grace with half a face’ was not what you wanted?”

  Charlotte inhaled sharply. “Joshua!” spoke hoarsely. “What ..?”

  “How long before you seek a lover because you cannot stand the thought of sharing a bed with a man who is so scarred, the ton thinks of him as an abomination?” he spat out. “They’re saying you’ll take a lover before the first heir is born!” He heard her gasp again, saw her eyes widen in shock and her hands move to her belly as if she’d been kicked. He knew he’d surprised her with his venomous words. He could scarcely believe he was saying them.

  “Well, I will not be cuckolded!” he yelled, a fist coming down so hard on the window sill that nearby books shook on their shelves and the window pane vibrated.

  “How dare you!” Charlotte replied in disbelief, her voice kept as low as possible lest the footman outside the door hear them. What had Joshua heard, she wondered, to make him say such things? Where had he been all morning?

  “How dare I?” he repeated in astonishment. “I am the one being forced into a marriage with a woman from a disgraced family who has no dowry!”

  Charlotte took a step back. And then another, the shock of his anger sinking in, the words finally penetrating her brain to where she could understand what he was really saying. He truly believes I will cuckold him! And now her lack of a dowry and her family’s situation seemed to matter when just days ago he had said he didn’t care.

  To think, she had wanted this stubborn oaf for a husband, and not because he was a duke. She thought herself in love with him, thought she could make a life with him, bear his children, be his duchess despite his burns and the fickle ton who shunned him. She struggled to catch her breath, suddenly conscious of just how tight her corset had become; not having worn one for several days, she’d forgotten just how restricting the garment could be. And she’d only had Parma put it on her after the doctor’s visit because there were so many servants and village women milling about, all busy with the preparations for the wedding breakfast.

  Charlotte’s cheeks flamed with anger.

  “And you have the audacity to ask how dare I?” Joshua retorted, not bothering to keep his voice down. “I wasn’t the one who showed up and expected a marriage ceremony and a happily ever after when my father had nearly died a week ago!”

  Charlotte recoiled at the pronouncement, her vision graying at the edges. “I showed up because it was my duty to do so,” she spat out, realizing just how shrill she must sound to any servants who were no doubt eavesdropping. “I’m almost …” She paused as she tried in vain to get air into her lungs, “One and twe ..” The gray had filled her vision and she felt herself falling. “Twenty,” she managed to get out before the world went black.

  Joshua watched in horror as Lady Charlotte’s head rolled backwards and her knees went out from beneath her. Without thinking, he lunged forward, catching her around one shoulder and under one arm. He winced as her dead weight was suddenly supported by his left shoulder and arm. Gently lowering her so that he could get an arm under her knees, he cursed himself. Cursed his aching arm. Cursed the situation he suddenly found himself in. And cursed just because it seemed like the only thing to do at that moment.

  “Good God, man, whatever happened?”

  Joshua jerked his head around to the see Garrett just inside the open door. He shook his head and lifted Charlotte from the floor, ignoring his complaining shoulder. “She fainted,” he replied quietly, his anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. What have I done? he wondered suddenly, his gaze falling to her face. It was serene but pale as it rested against the white linen of his shirt sleeve. He imagined her sleeping in his arms, in his bed, and suddenly felt as if there was nothing he wanted more in the world that very moment.

  Garrett hurried over, knowing his friend would be having trouble with his left arm. “Allow me,” he offered as he held out his arms.

  But Joshua shook his head and moved to the velvet settee, settling himself into the middle of it so that he could hold her across his lap. “Come undo these blasted buttons, will you?” he whispered, bending her so she was sitting up, slumped against the front of his body.

  Furrowing his brows, Garrett kept his place. “I’ve known you long enough to know you’re not a libertine …” he started to say in protest.

  “She needs air!” the duke replied in a voice that dared his friend to argue. “We need to loosen her corset. Or … whatever contraption women wear under their gowns these days.”

  Having just spent the last few nights in the company of his fiancée, Garrett knew exactly what contraptions women were wearing under their gowns. He moved quickly to deftly undo the row of jet buttons. “I am jealous,” he remarked with a cocked eyebrow. At Joshua’s questioning glance, Garrett added lightly, “I must have known Jane for several months before she fainted dead away on me.” The implication that Jane had deliberately fainted in order to afford Garrett the opportunity to hold her was lost on Joshua.

  “We were exchanging …
words,” Joshua murmured, his eyes closing as he allowed himself to sniff the light scent of jasmine that wafted from Charlotte’s hair.

  Grunting as he undid the ties of the corset and noticing the light bandage that covered her scar, Garrett regarded his friend for a moment. “I heard,” he replied coarsely. “I think everyone on this floor heard.” He took a moment to admire the tiny blue ribbon bows that adorned each grommet of the corset and wondered where he might find such a corset for Jane. “Being a bit hard on her, don’t you suppose? And the day before the wedding, no less?” He stood up, making a showing of trying to avoid seeing Lady Charlotte in such a compromising position. It was not everyday a woman was draped against her intended with her dress undone. “Joshua, what’s really bothering you?” Garrett finally asked, thinking that if any servants walked in and saw what he was trying hard to ignore, Charlotte would be ruined and Joshua would have to marry her anyway. “Do you have a case of cold feet? Or is it something more serious?”

  Joshua unconsciously hugged Charlotte closer to his body, positioning her head so that it rested against his chest. He could feel her gentle breathing through the linen of his shirt. Why am I having second thoughts? he asked himself for the tenth time. “I want the kind of marriage my parents had,” he finally answered quietly, smoothing a hand down the length of her sleeve so that it ended up covering one of her hands as it rested limply at her side.

  Garrett took a seat across from them and considered his friend’s words. “I take it theirs was not a marriage of convenience?” he ventured. Although he had visited Wisborough Oaks with Joshua during their tenure as gambling men, he had not known the duke and duchess well enough to know what kind of marriage they shared.

  “At first, I am sure that it was,” Joshua replied with a long sigh. “But … after a time, it was a love match,” he spoke quietly, absently kissing the curls of Charlotte’s coiffure as he sniffed the scent of jasmine and citrus. He thought of planting his entire face into her silken hair just so that he might breathe deeply and get drunk on the scent of her.