by Fanny Walsh
“Your mother would have my eye plucked out, cooked and fed to me for breakfast if she ever finds out I neglected my duties.”
Fiona chuckled. “She may be mean, but Mother isn’t cruel. I do not think she would go that far.”
Gwendoline’s gaze met with her cousin’s in the mirror, and she gave a wry smile. “I beg to differ.”
There was a small pause before Fiona responded.
“She does not have to find out though. I am certain she must be busy settling in for the night herself. Her chamber is all the way over at the east wing.”
“Still, I’d rather not take my chances.” This conversation was not new to either of them. It began the same and ended the same.
Fiona settled in the tub and Gwendoline began washing her.
“I am sorry for all that Mother said to you at supper. She had no right. Those words were too harsh. It made me lose my appetite, and they were not even said to me.”
Gwendoline did not want to be reminded, but she knew she would never forget. When she went to sleep tonight, they would ring in her ears.
“Give it no thought. They barely touched me. Remember the ducks back at Gelling, at the fountain? What they do when you pour water on them? They simply shake it off and continue on their way. Beautiful little things.”
Fiona did not seem to share her humor. Her voice was still sad when she replied.
“You always say that, Gwen. But we both know they are bound to hurt. Mother has to be stopped. It’s just… she won’t listen to anyone. Not even Father.” There was a pause before she continued.
“I wish things were different. I wish we were sisters indeed, that we were closer and we could tell one another everything, anything.”
“Me too. Nevertheless, you have been nothing but kind to me, and I shall not forget your goodness. Still, you do not have to feel the need to apologize on your mother’s behalf. She acts as she deems right, and I cannot fault her for that.
”Beyond that, there is truth to her words. Not many people would make the sacrifices Aunt Leah has made for me. For that, I shall be ever grateful.”
Nothing more was said. All through the rest of the bath, and doing Fiona’s hair, then helping her dress for bed.
As she made her way to her chambers, Gwen thought of how she would miss Fiona and Uncle Albert if she eventually found a husband this season.
If she was lucky enough. She hoped she would be. Despite the heavy hand fate had dealt her, Gwen hoped she would find a man who would love her and marry her.
A man who would take her into his home, cherish her and give her a new family.
A man who she would love as much in return.
This was a fool’s dream, she knew. She might as well become very disappointed, but she would dream still. All else had been taken away from her.
She refused to let her hope be stolen away too.
Chapter 2
Arthur Ainsworth wasted no time in getting off the carriage when the coach rolled to a stop in front of his father’s townhouse.
The speed at which he took the stairs and breezed through the open doors surprised even him, let alone the staff that were in the hallway.
He barely spared them any greeting, his eyes frantically searching the small crowd for a grey old man whom he loved and respected as much as he did his father.
He heaved a sigh of relief as he found the man and went to him. “You have not aged a year, Edwards.”
The old man smiled at him. “And you look like you have been gone away for five, my lord. You’ve grown so much in two years, that I hardly recognized you.”
Arthur sighed, and his nerves instantly calmed. Edwards, the butler and his old friend, had such an effect on him.
Edwards was not only the butler, but also a distant cousin who had served Arthur’s family for many years. Arthur had grown with the counsel, love and doting adoration of this man.
It was nice to know that, despite the many months that had passed, at least Edwards was still there and had not changed.
“How is he?” Arthur asked urgently. “Where is he?”
Edwards’ bright face fell, and Arthur felt his panic rise again.
“He is in his chamber. Where else would he be? And as for the other question… you will have to see for yourself, my lord.”
Arthur’s head bowed and he heaved a deep sigh. He wielded control over his emotions and once he had a firm grip on their rein, he looked up once again.
“Lead the way, old friend.”
Edwards immediately stepped in front and both men began to climb up the stairs.
Even trying as hard as Arthur did to fight it, the fear of meeting his father in a bad condition gripped him still. A part of him rejoiced that his father was alive.
On the journey over, he had hoped and prayed that he would meet his father in good health, not just alive. Edwards’ reaction had crushed that hope of good health.
Now that he knew his prayers had not been answered, he could only hope not to meet the worst.
As though sensing his agitation, Edwards spoke, taking Arthur away from his crippling thoughts.
“You may have grown so much in features, my Lord Highvale, but I am glad you still are the man you were before you left.”
Arthur smiled. “I do believe I am better, Edwards. Those months visiting almost every continent in the world have taught me a lot and I have learned it all. There is a whole world out there. Entirely different, but just as rich in heritage.”
He had been on the Grand Tour for the past eighteen months, and he had enjoyed every bit of it. He had visited Europe, America, the Highlands.
He had been in Asia when the letter informing him of his father’s illness had arrived - Madras, India to be precise.
The letter had spoken of grave urgency, so Arthur had wasted no time putting his Grand Tour to an end and boarding a ship that would bear him home.
Those four months at sea had been unarguably the longest months of his life.
He had not been able to communicate with anybody. He had been deaf and blind to all that was happening back at home, and all he had been able to do was pray - so of course, he had resorted to that.
“My point exactly, my lord. The world out there is so different. I was afraid you would forget the English in you and come back a different man.”
They reached the top of the stairs. Arthur smiled. “I am a different man, Edwards. I feel it in my bones. But for good. I am a better man.”
Edwards nodded. “Good. That is all that matters. Your parents will be happy to see that their boy has fully grown into a man.”
He knew Edwards was teasing, so he chuckled softly. “I have been a man for a long while now, Edwards. Many years before I even thought of the Grand Tour.”
“You will always be a boy to me, until you take a wife and sire your own family.”
For some reason, the thought of discussing siring a family with Edwards, made Arthur flush. So, he simply said nothing, letting that conversation end.
“Speaking of my parents, how is Mother?”
“Your mother is as always. Worried. She hardly leaves your father’s side these days.”
They finally reached his parents’ door.
Was he ready? To face whatever was behind that door?
Arthur drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long stream. He had waited four months for this. He could not be more ready.
He nodded and immediately, Edwards pushed the handle. The door came open, but Arthur did not look up until he had fully stepped into the room.
“Your Graces. Your son, His Lordship, the Marquess of Highvale.”
With a regal bow, Edwards made to leave after the announcement, but Evie Ainsworth, the Duchess of Headley, would not have it.
“Please, Edwards. You are needed. Stay.”
As Edwards closed the door behind him, Arthur stepped further into the room. He finally dared to look up.
Everything else fell away as he saw his father - or
more accurately, a shadow of what his father used to be - on the bed.
This was not the worst, Arthur knew. Still, it was so terrible, it broke his heart into a million pieces. Arthur felt the pain as each piece broke.
There was his father, the proud, tall man Arthur had known and admired, lying in that bed, so thin and frail, barely occupying any space.
Oh illness! Woe be unto you!
Unable to help himself, he rushed to his father’s side and engulfed him in an embrace.
“Father. I am sorry it took so long. But I am here now, I am here. We are going to get you well. I will make sure I do that with every breath in me. I promise you this.”
His father held on to him, as tightly as he could, making Arthur’s chest grow tighter. Silence held, so loud that it was almost deafening.
Arthur felt a myriad of emotions come like waves, washing over him, threatening to pull him under, to drown him, but he held firm.
He was a man who could not remember the last time he had shed tears. He was not going to break down now. At least, not in the presence of all these people.
Finally, he pulled away, and went to embrace his mother who was just by the side of the bed.
“Mother, I apologize for leaving you all alone in this. I am here now. You shall not have to do this on your own anymore.”
“Hush, Arthur. You have no need to fill our ears with apologies and swear promises. Neither your father nor I count any grievance against you. You were away on the Grand Tour on our permission, and you came home the moment you received the news.”
Arthur broke away then, relieved by his mother’s understanding. Still, it did not take away the guilt in his heart.
“Yes, that I did. How long has it been? Eight months?”
“Yes.”
Eight long months. Father has been suffering for eight long months.
His father finally spoke. His voice was almost a whisper and it sounded so weak and tired. It made Arthur ache even more.
“It was not always this bad. I have only been bedridden for three of them. We wrote the letter to you as soon as I took ill, for I knew I would be needing assistance to rule Headley.
”The affairs of a dukedom are not something to be handled by a sick man.”
Arthur’s face fell as his guilt ate deeper at him.
His father was struggling with responsibilities and there he was, at sea, shirking his. When he should have been home, helping out.
His father made to adjust to a sitting position and Arthur quickly helped, piling up pillows behind him.
When His Grace, the Duke of Headley, William Ainsworth coughed, Edwards was by his side in an instant with a cup of water.
When the Duke had had his fill, Edwards withdrew the cup.
“Thank you, dear friend,” his father said to Edwards. Edwards simply nodded, returned the cup to the bedside table, and went back to where he had been standing before.
That was when the Duke returned his attention to Arthur.
“I know what you are thinking. As your mother said, you share no blame in this, and I would not let you think otherwise. You are here now, and that is all that matters. My mind is at peace.”
Arthur looked to his mother as his father relaxed into the pillows, trying to catch his breath and regain his energy. Talking had appeared too strenuous for him.
“What are the physicians saying?”
Arthur’s mother sighed, and that was when Arthur noticed the tired lines on her face.
“They are saying that they cannot fathom what is wrong with him. We moved him to London to gain better access to better physicians. We have invited a few from outside of London, they all said the same thing.
”Dr Adley comes to bleed him every now and then, and he has been on some medication which seem to be working better than the others, but that is all. As we all know, we cannot cure an illness we do not know.”
“You say he is better?” Arthur looked at his father once again. If this was better, then how much worse was he?”
The Duchess smiled sadly. “Much better. We have hope that he will only get better still.”
“Hmm,” was all Arthur could manage to say. He returned his attention to his father. “How do you feel now?”
“Weak, tired, but definitely better than I was a month ago. I know that now that you are here, I may just get well.”
“No, no may. You will. I will see to it.”
A wry smile stole across the Duke’s face.
“You seem determined, dear son. Ah, that is a good thing. You have grown so much. You have almost become a man. I am glad. Headley shall have a good ruler in my absence.
”All that is left now, is for you to take a wife. It is past time; do you not think so? You are now twenty six years old. Time is a delicate thing. I may feel better, but I am past hoping to recover from this.”
Arthur was going to refute his father’s words, but the Duke stopped him with a frail hand in the air.
“I am the one in this body, Arthur. You must listen to me. I believe God made me better to keep me long enough to see my heart’s desire happen right before my eyes.
”I only let you go on the Grand Tour after I made certain that you have learned all that you needed to, about Headley and being a good duke. Now, I want to see you take a wife. It is all I ask for.
”Shall you deny a dying man his one last wish?”
“You are not dying, Father. You are simply ill and you shall return to your health soon. And as for marriage…”
Marriage. Arthur had never wanted it. Not after the many examples he had seen in his lifetime.
Yet, he had always known it was one of his duties, and some day it would be required of him.
He only wished that it was not so soon, and that he had more time to enjoy his bachelorhood. Alas, his father was asking this of him on his sick bed.
How could he break the man’s heart? How could he refuse him this sane, unselfish wish?
Heaving a deep sigh, Arthur made the only decision that was there to be made.
“Yes, Father. I shall find a wife.”
The joy that instantly dawned on his father’s face made the sacrifice instantly worth it. And his mother, her eyes twinkled as she said,
“Good thing you are just in time for the season!”
Oh well, Arthur sighed, defeated.
It would appear that he had balls to attend, a wife to choose, and a marriage to plan.
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Book 1 – The Duke’s Cautious Governess
Chapter 1
Agnes Hubbard had not planned on the journey taking so long. The plan had been for her to depart in the afternoon and be at the Duke of Portsmouth's manor by evening two days later. The journey had not, however, gone according to plan. If anything, they would not be there for another day, and they were already over a day late.
Her coach driver had taken ill after something or other he ate at the inn, and had been incapacitated for some time. Agnes knew better than to hire another driver who she did not know and trust them to return the Duchess of Dorset's carriage on time.
So she would have to wait. And possibly ruin her first job as a governess.
She understood the situation, but that did not make her feel any more at ease. She did not know the Duke of Portsmouth, she did not know if he would be understanding and caring, or a beast and a brute.
In fact, she really did not know anyone in person. Although her father had raised her well, and taught her all the rules of etiquette, he had never given her room to explore and grow socially. She knew all she ought to do in order to be a proper lady. But she had been taught nothing about how to make a friend laugh, how to avoid becoming an enemy to a peer, or, indeed, how to tell an employer that your delay was beyond your control.
She hoped he would be reasonable. Hoping was all she could
do.
Agnes sighed and looked out of the inn window. This was a far cry from her past life as the daughter of the Earl of Kent. Back then she had lived comfortably and happily, always with servants to care for her, always with some money to send people on errands. And, in the last couple of years, always with friends to keep her company.