Regency Romance Omnibus 2018: Dominate Dukes & Tenacious Women

by Virginia Vice

  "Stop the coach," he ordered sharply.

  “Your Grace?”

  "Stop the coach this instant!" Giles nodded, his pallor heightened in the sudden gloom. A rap at the box seat and the groom reined in his horses.

  Robert knew his two outriders were armed, though they would save their single shot for a direct threat to his person. He took his pistols stashed by the door and kicked the carriage door open. At the sudden sound Giles jumped but Robert barely paid him a mind. Outside, he stepped to the ground, his eyes adjusting to the increase in sunlight. An outrider approached him, clearly on full alert. The trees around them could conceal any numbers of enemies and the road bent in both directions. One could not see very far what was coming or going. Apart from the singing birds and the raucous crows there was no sound. They could not expect a lot of traffic to pass them by, but still the groom stopped the carriage far to the side to the road.

  “Your Grace, Albert gave the highwayman chase, but we don't know what's past the bend of the road.” Caution was advised in the words and Lord Windon nodded curtly. He didn’t return to the relative safety of the carriage but continued on foot where he seemed to have heard a sound. The outrider dismounted and followed him.

  Suddenly one of the horses called and there was an answering neigh from across the bend in the road. Robert quickened his pace, that sounded like something familiar. The sight of the horse dancing frantically around a piece of yellow clothing on the ground chilled his blood. He handed his pistols to the man behind him and reached for the reins of the nervous horse. He moved in a calm, unassuming manner towards the horse who shied once. Twice he danced away, but finally the stallion allowed his reins to be caught at the third attempt.

  The figure on the ground still lay prone and fear chilled his innards. The rider was clearly a female, no man would be willing to wear that shaded of infernally cheerful yellow. Many dandies of London would, he corrected, but this was far from their usual haunt and the sprawl of clothing indicated a gown.

  He handed the reins over to the outriders and moved closer to the figure. As he bent the smell of lemons assailed his nose. Gads! Was every woman to haunt him with the likeness and affectations of Amelia? He shook his head to clear it, but the scent remained, growing stronger as he reached for the prone body. He didn't see the face clearly in the dark but he realised with a shock that he knew the form. His hands had traced the slight flare of her hips only once, but he could never forget it.

  “Amelia!” His voice was hoarse with fear. He cradled her head and the legs, lifting her from the ground. Closer he could see the clear skin, the cupid lips, the eyebrows calm in repose and her eyes closed. She was not breathing. Her chest did not stir to draw air into her lungs and at the place his hand cupped her head he could feel a knot forming.

  In that moment, Robert tasted death. It was a there, a deluge that threatened to drown him. The sharp shards that scrapped his throat were metallic and hard. It was worse, much worse than the idea of living without her love. It scraped his flesh like a sharp claw, the heavy burden choking and squeezing his chest, pulling the air from his very lungs. She couldn’t be dead.

  "Amelia! Amelia! Wake up! Can you hear me?" Urgency filled him.

  There were so many ways to die. Her horse had clearly thrown her, spooked by the appearance of the highwayman.

  "You can't die! Do you hear me! You can't die. I was coming back to see you. Oh, why couldn't you wait? Wake up!" he insisted with increasing fear.

  He shook the prone figure then turned to his man. “Take your horse and ride into the village. Head straight for Mossford. The physician is likely there.” He turned back to the figure in his arms.

  "Wait Amelia. Hold on for me. Do you hear?" he pleaded with her as he crouched over the prone figure. The figure sighed once, a long, drawn out breath. The outrider paused with one foot in the stirrup. In that shadowed bend of the road the sound was loud, as loud as the crack of a gun.

  "Robert?" Her voice was almost a whisper.

  "Amelia! Can you hear me?" The relief made his voice even more hoarse.

  He eyelids twitched. Finally, the green eyes focused on him in a daze. "Robert? All of London can hear you."

  He chuckled dryly and pulled her even closer. "Are you all right?"

  His hand cupped the knot and, even though his touch was gentle, she grimaced. "I'll be fine."

  "But are you fine right now? Are you wounded?" He refused to be appeased by the play on words, his fear was too present.

  "Only the knot in my head and my pride," she informed him sheepishly with a small smile.

  "You got off lightly. Your horse threw you off." His voice was calmer now. She couldn’t very well be dying if she was smiling.

  "He was spooked by the highwayman. How..."

  "I was returning and he raced past us. One of my outriders gave chase," he explained to her.

  "You returned—for me?" Her husky voice shot straight to his groin. He shook his head to dislodge the haze of desire and relief creeping up on him.

  "I came to find you," he continued.

  "You did?" The words whispered with—hope? She raised the hand lying on the ground to him. It reminded him of her actions in the gamekeeper’s lodge in the morning. This time he leaned into it, careless of the dust.

  "I came to a realisation..." he started but the horse neighed again. Robert turned to realise his outrider still lingered. He drew her to her feet and turned, “Take your horse and ride for Mossford. Have the physician wait for us. Inform Lord Rochester of what has happened," he ordered.

  "Papa will be worried. I saddled a horse and rode out." Amelia drew his attention back to her.

  "Leave the Arabian and tell the groom to come forward." He turned back to Amelia and said, "Let us be free from the gloom of this location."

  Without a word to prepare her, he hefted her weight into his arms with a smooth move. With a care he cradled her head against his chest. He walked out of the shadows into the beckoning sunlight at the other side of the trees. Somehow the horse knew to follow. The jingle of bridle and bits followed them. At the other side, Amelia insisted on getting on her feet. He obliged her but stayed close to her in case she started to sway in a faint.

  “Robert...”

  “Amelia...”

  “I love you.”

  The words startled him, knocked control cleanly out of his hands and had him gaping at the situation. He gaped at her in shock, unwilling to credit the words he had just heard. Impossible. She tried to turn away and he suddenly grabbed her hand and dragged her back to him.

  "Say it again," he demanded.

  This time she looked into his face. Her green eyes focused with a depth of sincerity and emotion that could easily bring him to his knees as she repeated, "I love you, Robert."

  "I love you too, Amelia. I couldn't bear to have us part the way we did. I was turning back to tell you, to erase our shabby goodbye. And I wanted to be with you, even if I had to convince you for the rest of my life I was not going to leave without you.”

  "Robert..." The sound of the carriage filtered to them. Robert stopped her words by putting one finger against her lips.

  He removed his hand and kissed her. A mere brush of warm lips that eased one hunger and woke another. "It'll keep."

  He turned with instructions to the groom. “Continue on to the estate. We will return at a more leisurely pace.” He wanted time with her. Days, weeks, even many, many years. He was loath to even share her with anyone.

  The coach continued on, and after a while only the two of them and the horse remained on the road, the outrider having ridden on. Robert caught the black stallion and helped her mount. After adjusting her skirts as decently as possible he mounted after her and she leaned into him.

  "I love you, Amelia," he whispered to her.

  "I love you too, Robert," she returned softly.

  "I shall never tire of hearing you say it," he vowed.

  "I shall never fail to tell you again," she pr
omised him. Then she tensed. "We came so close to..."

  "No, love. Do not dwell on that. It is past now," he admonished. She leaned back into him. "How did you come to be accosted by a highwayman?"

  "I missed you."

  "Wife." The growl so close to her ear wreaked havoc with her senses. She bit down on her lips to contain her gasp.

  "Husband." She returned with an impish grin he couldn’t see. Then she sobered. "I thought on us when you left, and I found I couldn't bear to be parted from you. I raced to come and tell you. Also, I couldn't bear to have our argument as our parting words."

  "I couldn't bear it myself," he admitted.

  "I love you, Robert. I have been a fool. I refused to admit this truth even to myself. I was too embroiled in my crusade against the world and I almost lost you."

  "I am here now,” he soothed, “and I am never letting you go. Not without me at your side always," he vowed lightly.

  “And I by your side always. It is my wifely duty," she returned.

  "Duty?" A cold dread trickled down his spine.

  She hurried to explain. "I accused you of knowing only that..."

  "It hurt me to the quick when you spoke of it," he admitted, still unsure.

  "I confess, I sought to hurt you. I loved you, but you claimed our marriage was a duty to your child," she continued.

  "I was a fool. I couldn't understand the feelings brewing in me. I must confess now that it was my pleasure," he returned softly.

  "’Twas my pleasure too,” she answered. Her hand flexed against his own.

  "Our pleasure, beloved, our pleasure.” He squeezed it.

  As the two continued to hash out their feelings the horse was allowed to pick its own way it plodded along the road. The horse promptly lost a sense of direction so that when the two of them came to a realisation of their surrounding they felt completely lost. The horse stood in front of a chapel. The cross in front sparked a memory in her.

  "’Tis the chapel in our lands," she offered.

  "Thank God. I thought us lost." He didn’t sound too worried.

  Robert looked from her to the chapel and dismounted from the horse. He helped her alight and, when she was steady, he captured her hands.

  "Marry me, Amelia."

  "But I have, Your Grace.” Her smile was mischievous.

  "No, marry me now in this chapel. Be my wife in every sense of the word." He was serious.

  “Now?" She felt shock.

  "You said you wanted only me. And you have me," he reminded her softly.

  "Truly?" She was surprised.

  "For all of eternity," he affirmed.

  She nodded and answered with little cries of, "Yes, yes."

  “It is settled then." Then he pulled her into a kiss.

  Epilogue

  Amelia flourished in the familiar surroundings and under the devotion of her husband who was even more enamored of his bride than he was when he had courted her.

  She often wondered if his love was as large as hers. Often times the emotions in her breast would choke her and leave her languid under the realization she had indeed found heaven. She blushed at her thought. It was most unkind of her to think him incapable of such depths of emotion because Society had deemed men incapable. They shamed society in their obvious love, devotion and physical longing for each other. Theirs would always be a meeting of like minds with the heart in close pursuit.

  However, the household was scandalised that the Duke and his bride would not keep separate rooms, even when she was expecting. They were already most unconventional in that they showed their love even in company of others and were clearly besotted with each other. The households got used to their lady and lord’s impromptu rash couplings and when they spied their Graces looking particularly dishevelled and ravished they regarded them with rueful, doting smiles.

  When the Duchess was put to bed, the household looked on as their Lord traipsed in front of the door of her chambers like a man insane. He begged for news of her and was haunted by the torturous shouts that sailed through the closed door. He had waited on her hand and foot as she increased, insisting on taking care of her. He had been shoed away by the midwife and the servants that attended her when the labor pains had started

  Gossip held it that, when the door was at last opened, he rushed to his wife inquiring about her health and completely doting of her care that his wife had at last asked him if was not inclined to meet their children.

  Lord Windon had remarked that she mattered more, driving one and all present to teary eyes until apparently the words sunk in and he grimaced.

  "Children? More than one, then? Woman, you will be the death of me," he joked. To which the Duchess huffed and presented the two babes swaddled in clean linen and mewling softly.

  He had greeted them, with a face lit with such naked emotion that the bystanders had to look away from that private moment. He had cradled them both, one male, the other female.

  The lady laid her children to her breast and wept with exhaustion and apparent love. And wouldn't you know it? She insisted she would nurse her own young. She tarried in the nursery with the devoted Duke by her side. Her sister-in-law visited with her brood and the walls of Windon Keep came alive with the sound of children.

  Her father lived long enough to see his grandchildren be christened and passed away quietly in his sleep only a few weeks later, sated with life and fulfilled.

  After they had mourned, they returned to Mossford where Robert gave her a gift to fill her heart to overflow. He had drawn up papers proclaiming his daughter heir to his wife’s estate of Mossford.

  She worried at the implications of such a wealth. “It is a burden, truly Robert. However shall we keep her from the attention of fortune hunters?”

  He pacified her. “Perhaps we keep the truth quiet until the betrothal contract is signed and then tell her future spouse. I fear all manner of heiress hunters would plague her with dark intent if her fortune is known.”

  “Indeed. But will she retain her estates after marriage?” One problem solved, yet another replaced it in quick succession.

  “If only he is a man kindly, beloved.”

  “A small dowry then?” she smiled, remembering their first encounter.

  “Aye, and we pray that she marries a man as devoted as I am to you,” he answered soberly.

  The Duchess snorted at that. “There is not another man in the whole of England.” She moved closer to her husband, holding her body against his. “Nor a woman to be found as devoted to her husband as I.”

  “I love you, wife,” he returned to her with a slight kiss.

  “And I you.” She answered with a deepening kiss of her own, leaning into him as his hands banded her close.

  They kissed over the maps of their lives and the promise of the future, the assurance of love and an abiding contentment.

  Trained By Her Darling Duke

  The Maid Earns His Undying Love

  By Virginia Vice

  Chapter 1

  “Don’t worry so much, Audrey. You’re qualified and prepared for this,” the older woman crowed to the pretty young girl sitting opposite her in the carriage as it jerked and jumped along the cobblestones. The trip from London had been a long one, and Audrey couldn’t stop herself from letting out a yawn, born just as much from anxiety as fatigue. Her knees bounced and her voice quivered as she listened to the hoof-clops along the road.

  “Working as house staff for an important man is a big step up, from tending house at Uncle Gerard’s inn, aunt Bette,” Audrey’s voice quietly protested. Born of common stripe, one could easily mistake young Audrey for lost royalty from the look of her. With hair a long flowing auburn and fresh, milky skin, her emerald eyes beamed in hesitant excitement at the roadway outside the carriage. “I’m not certain I’ll know what to do. I wouldn’t want to do anything to let down a man like the Duke of McClellan.”

  “The Duke of McClellan is a man like any other, which means he knows very much of power games
and wealthy leisure, and very little of cooking dinner or cleaning the dishes,” Aunt Bette chortled in her gravelly voice. The cart rolled over a deep bump in the road, giving both of its occupants a quiet and surprised ‘oof’. “You listen to Agatha, and you’ll do exceptionally well. A young woman like you has a lot to gain, working in the household of a man like Lord Parris.”

  Lord Parris. The name captivated young Audrey, her green eyes wide in the glow of fantasy. Growing up with a family of common folk bustling and breaking their backs to scrounge together enough coins for dinner each night, she had never imagined seeing the manor of a wealthy and powerful man, much less the estate of one of the most successful and influential members of England’s nobility.

  “How long until we arrive?” Audrey questioned, her voice a velvety whisper, though her every breath hitches tight in her nervous throat. Aunt Bette regarded her cautiously.

  “Now you’re quite excited to be working there, are you?” she smiles her churlish and gnarled old smile. “What’ve you got in your mind?”

  “Curious,” Audrey sheepishly admitted, cheeks a burning red. “I’m merely curious about the man I’m working for.”

  “Curiosity in the home of a man like Lord Parris can be a dangerous thing,” Aunt Bette warned. “I worked hard to secure this position for you, Audrey - Agatha and I are old friends, and it took her years to achieve steward of house staff for the McClellan estate.”

  “You’ve reminded me,” Audrey sighed, accustomed to her aunt’s prattle. She loved Aunt Bette - life hadn’t been easy for Audrey, and her aunt had taken her in after both parents passed away from a bout of sickness. Still, the older woman loved to go on and on.

  “I only remind you again to temper the next few words of caution I’ll offer,” Bette’s voice grew wary. “Lord Parris has quite a... reputation, and a deserved one,” she murmured, her voice slithering in contempt, barely audible over the clop-clop and groan of the wagon. Audrey’s heart froze - had the Duke committed some terrible deed? Was he greedy, disgusting, dastardly? Her joy about the job faded almost as quick as it had blossomed.