The Corinthian Duke

by Emma V. Leech

  Oscar turned back to Wilkes, eyebrows raised in query.

  “Guests of her grace,” Wilkes returned, offering no further explanation.

  Very well, then.

  “Thank you,” Oscar said, handing the man his hat, gloves and overcoat and taking the stairs two at a time. Probably best to face his mother first and get the lie of the land.

  With a brief knock, Oscar opened the door to his mother’s rooms and entered. Mintie was sitting by the fire, a book laying open on her lap as she gazed into space. She looked up on hearing him enter, but her usual smile of delight for him was tempered by a look of reproach.

  “Well! About time, you wretched boy.”

  Oscar held out his hands in a peaceable gesture. “I know, Mother. Don’t, I beg you, ring a peal over me. I know I deserve it, but I’ve come to make amends if… if I’m not too late?”

  He heard the anxiety behind those words as clearly as she must have, and he didn’t know whether to be relieved or more concerned when her expression softened.

  “Come and sit down,” she said, smiling at him now and patting the seat beside her.

  She gave him a searching look, and he denied the urge to squirm with reluctance. His mother was the most indulgent, loving parent any boy could hope for. He’d been spoiled to death his whole life and well knew it. That did not, however, mean she was blind to his faults.

  “I don’t know, Oscar,” she said, the answer to his question rather starker than he’d hoped for.

  He blanched, and let out a breath, hanging his head. “Does that mean, has Ranleigh—?”

  Oscar jolted as he was delivered a sharp clip round the ear.

  “Ranleigh is a gentleman, and your wife is as loyal a woman as ever lived. Whether or not her heart is still yours, however, I can’t pretend to know.” His mother shook her head and patted his cheek his time. “Oh, Oscar, you foolish boy. Ella has been in love with you your whole life. She deserved better than this.”

  “Oh, God,” he said, putting his head in his hands, ever more miserable as that little piece of information pierced his heart. “I didn’t know, I swear. At least… not until after we married and then, I… I just panicked.”

  “How could you not know?” she demanded, shaking her head. “The girl worshipped you.”

  “Well, I knew that!” Oscar replied indignantly. “I just thought it was a bit of hero-worship, like she looked up to me, not…. Damn it, Mother! I thought she was just a little slip of a girl, not—”

  He broke off as his mother gave a disgusted laugh.

  “She’s not been a child for a long time, Oscar, and she’s certainly grown up in the time since you abandoned her. She’s had to,” she added, with a tone that made him uncomfortable.

  “Honestly, though,” Oscar said, frowning, “she was still climbing trees and demanding we take her to the fair a few weeks before we married, surely you can see why I felt… awkward.”

  He coloured, mortified at having to discuss this with his mother but, as ever, she wasn’t perturbed in the slightest. She merely rolled her eyes at him.

  “Yes, and likely she still would, not because she’s a child but because she’s full of life and fun, Oscar, which is why she’s got society in the palm of her hand.”

  Oscar sighed and got to his feet, going to the window.

  “I don’t know if I can change the way I feel, but… but I don’t want her to be unhappy. Come to that, I don’t want to be, either. I never said before, as I was supposed to marry Pearl like it or not, but….” He sat on the window sill, staring at his mother in dejection. “I would like a happy marriage, and children who know they are loved and secure. I suppose I got used to the idea that our union was a business arrangement and nothing more, and I saw no reason it should be any different with Ella. Yet, if I could have a chance at something real, then I want to take it. I care a great deal about her and I know I owe it to her to try.”

  His mother watched him, her expression sorrowful, and he shook his head, wishing he hadn’t been such a disappointment to everyone. To himself.

  “I’m sorry I ran away, but… I needed a little time to think. It all happened so suddenly and, well, if I’m honest, I think I needed to grow up a little too.”

  His mother got to her feet and walked towards him, giving him a hug.

  “Foolish creature. I’m so glad you’re home. I really do think the two of you are made for each other, you know, and… I wouldn’t worry too much about feeling awkward. Ella is no longer the little Bug you remember… not entirely, at least.”

  “Where will I find her?”

  Oscar frowned as his mother’s face fell. “Oh, Oscar, I haven’t told you. There was a fire at Cripps Corner, and some of the tenants were made homeless.”

  “Good Lord! Was anyone hurt?” Oscar asked, horrified. “When did it happen? Why wasn’t I informed?”

  “Oh. Well, because Ella took everything in hand so splendidly, there was no need. I did write to you, but I expect it arrived as you left, and you missed it. Something needed to be done at once, though, and you weren’t here, so…”

  She gave a shrug as Oscar’s guilt grew heavier still. Not that he’d known; if he had, he would have taken things in hand at once.

  His mother’s eyes lit up as she spoke of his wife with real pride.

  “Ella was marvellous, though, Oscar. You should have seen her. She’s arranged everything, including bringing the children here whilst the work is done, and setting up a temporary school.”

  Well, that explained a lot.

  His mother patted his cheek, giving him a fond smile.

  “Go down to the old cottages at Berry Street. You’ll find her there.”

  Chapter 14

  “Wherein if music be the food of love… someone’s off key.”

  Ella looked around the first cottage with satisfaction. As Mr Burrows had indicated, they’d not been in terrible repair, other than the shocking state of the roofs. The first had been re-thatched, the work completed last night, alongside some repairs to the interior. The broken window glass had been replaced and the women had got inside to get the place in a state clean enough that the walls could be repainted.

  It already looked a wonderful sight to Ella, who had spent the morning sweeping and dusting, and then got down on her knees to help scrub the floors. There had been protests, naturally. Apparently, duchesses ought not to dirty their pretty hands. Ella had explained with a somewhat rueful smile that they were likely to find this duchess did a lot of things she ought not, and they’d best get used to it.

  It had been a little awkward at first, with many a little in awe at finding her among them, but with a little persuasion and persistence, she had struck up conversations and got to know Oscar’s tenants. Her tenants too, now, she realised. Sharing a picnic with them had helped too. Once they’d realised she wasn’t too lofty to sit on the grass and eat bread and cheese with the rest of them, things had gone rather easier.

  “Here you go, your grace. Wash some of that dust away.”

  Ella looked around and gave a grateful smile as Mr Burrows held out a glass of lemonade to her.

  “Oh, just what the doctor ordered,” she said, taking the glass from him. “You are kind, sir. Thank you.”

  “Nonsense,” Burrows said, shaking his head. “What you’ve accomplished here in the time is nothing short of miraculous, and I’m right grateful. We all are.”

  Ella flushed a little but couldn’t hide her pleasure at his words.

  “Why, Mr Burrows, you make it sound as if I repaired the roof myself, which I assure you I did not. A little sweeping and cleaning is the most I can lay claim to.”

  “And getting everyone here quick smart and shaking that blasted bailiff up. I heard how he tried to bullock you into waiting for his grace to give his consent, the miserable old—”

  “Yes, well,” Ella hurried on before he could say any more. “Of course, he was doing his job, as one would hope he should. I’ve only been duchess for
a short time and we’d not even been introduced. You can’t expect the man to jump to do my bidding without a little caution, now, can you?”

  Mr Burrows made a harrumphing sound low in his throat, which indicated he didn’t agree but was too polite to contradict her.

  Ella hid a smile, touched by his protective manner, and raised the lemonade to her lips. It was cool and tart and did indeed wash away the dust, from her mouth at least. Her hair was stiff with it and she could feel cobwebs on her skin. Her clothes were likewise filthy, and she didn’t dare look at the state of her nails.

  “Reckon perhaps you should be getting home now,” Burrows said, an anxious note to his voice. “You’ve been here since sun up and there’s not much else you can do now.”

  Ella finished her lemonade and handed him back the glass. “Yes, I suppose it must be getting late.”

  “It’s well after five, your grace.”

  Ella’s eyes widened. Good Lord, and she was supposed to be going to a concert tonight at the Assembly Rooms in town.

  “Heavens! I shall be in the suds,” she exclaimed, and left the room at a run.

  ***

  Berry Street was a hive of activity. Oscar had planned to renovate the empty cottages later this year and had already discussed the matter with his bailiff. That so much had happened already in his absence, made him feel a little out of sorts. He couldn’t exactly figure out why.

  He was glad the work was being done, glad that Ella had felt able to take the matter in hand, yet….

  Oscar sighed. He was being foolish, no doubt.

  “Mr Burrows!” Oscar called out to the familiar figure, raising his hand in greeting as the fellow turned.

  Mr Burrows took off his hat and strode to meet him.

  “Your grace,” the fellow said politely as he ducked his head a little.

  “I was so sorry to hear about the fire, Mr Burrows. Work is coming along a pace, I see, though. I hope everything is going well?”

  “Oh, yes, indeed, though, if I may say so, we couldn’t have managed it without the duchess. Marvellous, she’s been, and not afraid to get her hands dirty neither. She’s been cleaning the cottages, down on her hands and knees, too, though we all told her it weren’t proper. It’s like standing in front of a summer storm, though, there’s no stopping her.”

  Oscar blinked as the fellow beamed at him.

  “I’m afraid I never got the chance to congratulate you on your nuptials, but I’ll do so now. You’ve done us right proud.”

  He opened his mouth, wanting to say something appropriate, but Oscar found himself at a loss. The description of Ella as a summer storm there was no diverting made him smile, though; he recognised the feeling all too well.

  “I… er… thank you, Mr Burrows,” he managed at last.

  Ella really had taken matters in hand since his absence. A prickle of anxiety ran down his spine as he wondered what else had changed.

  “Do you know where I might find her?”

  “I’m afraid you’ve just missed her. Left a few minutes ago. Ran out of here like her skirts were afire, she did,” he added, laughing before he rearranged his face at Oscar’s raised eyebrows. “Er… well, she’d not noticed the time, she’s been so busy. Reckon she’s got an engagement tonight and is running to catch up. Always running, she is. Never knew a woman so full of life.”

  Mr Burrows flushed and cleared his throat, clearly believing he’d overstepped the mark as Oscar stared at him, a little stunned.

  “Right, well, good day to then, your grace,” the fellow muttered, before giving a hurried bow and rushing off.

  Oscar sighed. He’d have to catch her before she left tonight. His mother would know where she was going. Perhaps he could accompany her?

  Hopeful he’d track her down sooner rather than later, Oscar hurried back to the house.

  ***

  It took some time to wash the dirt from her hair, and Ella could only be grateful for her shorter locks. Her nails were in a shocking state and, despite a thorough scrubbing, she felt relieved to hide them beneath her long, silk gloves.

  Ella looked up as a knock sounded at her dressing room door. Nancy hurried to the door to open it and dipped a curtsey as Mintie came in, looking regal and sumptuous in a delicious confection of amber silk. Ella got to her feet, smiling at her mother-in-law.

  “What a glorious dress,” she said, turning so that Nancy could fasten a necklace about her throat. “Madame Dubois really is a marvel.”

  “Yes,” Mintie replied, moving to inspect the creation herself in the full-length looking glass and smiling with pleasure. “Though I take all the credit for choosing the colour. I simply had to have it.”

  “It suits you very well,” Ella said, laughing as Mintie turned her attention on her.

  “It may well do, but you, my dear, look utterly ravishing.”

  “Thank you, Mama,” Ella replied, pretending solemnity as she sank into a low curtsey.

  Mintie beamed at her and then hurried closer, taking her hands as she rose up again. There was excitement in her eyes as she lowered her voice to a confiding whisper.

  “Now, listen to me, Ella. I didn’t have time to tell you earlier, for you came home in such a bustle, but I must warn you. Oscar is home.”

  Ella blinked. For a moment the words hovered in the air without her having the slightest notion of what they meant.

  “H-He’s home?” she stammered.

  She stamped on the urge to panic and run in pointless circles, at least outwardly. It felt very much as though her heart was doing the panicking and running for her. The words thudded in her head in time with her heartbeat.

  He’s home, he’s home, he’s home… oh, for heaven’s sake!

  “Well, that’s nice. It will be good to see him,” she said, striving for calm although the words sounded a little squeaky.

  Mintie pulled a face at her and tutted.

  “Now, Ella, listen to me. He’s home and he wants to start over. He’s sorry for leaving, and for the way he’s treated you.”

  “Oh.”

  Ella couldn’t manage anything further than that. She was too stunned. It had been hard indeed to stop herself moping and missing him when he’d left, but she’d done it, or at least made a decent show of it. She’d gone out into society and faced the scandal head on; she’d weathered the spiteful comments that her sister had made, and she’d made her own friends. Oscar had wanted her to live her life apart from his and she had done so… and now he was back, and he wanted to try again? Which was good, wasn’t it?

  Except what if he tried and still failed?

  She didn’t think her heart could stand that depth of hurt and survive.

  “Is that all you can say? ‘Oh?’” Mintie asked, looking a little crestfallen.

  “I rather think it is, yes,” Ella said, apologetic but honest at least.

  Mintie sighed. “But how are you going to treat him? Are you going to welcome him home with open arms, or are you going to treat him with disdain? Are you angry with him, will you have cross words for him? You’ve every right to, only… oh, not in public, I beg you.”

  Ella raised a hand to silence her. “Mintie, I… I hardly know, but I promise you I would show no anger or make a spectacle of our marriage in public.”

  “Are you sure?” The dowager stared at her, a worried little frown at her brow.

  “Well, of—” Ella went to reassure her, the words on her tongue before she could think them through, and all at once she wasn’t sure.

  She simply didn’t know what she felt, not any longer. Oscar had hurt and disappointed her and his shining armour, which had dazzled her not so long ago, was tarnished now. She knew she was far from blameless in this affair, but things could have been different.

  “I will try to behave in a way to make you proud, Mintie. You have my word.”

  It was the best she could do. Too many emotions were battering her heart and, just now, she had no idea which would win out.

  Min
tie smiled and nodded. “Of course. I know that, and it was horrid of me to press you so. It’s none of my business, I know it isn’t, but I do so wish to see the two of you happy.”

  Ella leaned over and kissed her cheek, touched by the sincerity of her words.

  “I know that, and I’m sure Oscar does too. We must just try to take things a day at a time though.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” the dowager said, sighing. “I’m just so impatient. I want grandbabies to cuddle! Oh, to see this stuffy old house full of children.”

  “Mintie!” Ella exclaimed, as Mintie gave an irrepressible laugh and went to the door. “Come down as soon as you are ready, darling. He’s waiting to greet you.”

  Ella ran to the mirror and checked her reflection. She’d been thrilled with the dress: a sprigged, gossamer satin of ethereal blue, it was as light as air and clung to her slight figure. Pearls and diamonds shone at her throat and ears, and two beautiful clips nestled in her short dark curls.

  “You look like a duchess,” whispered a voice beside her, and Ella turned to find Nancy smiling at her.

  She embraced her maid, holding her tight for a moment. “Thank you, Nancy. That was just what I needed to hear.”

  Ella tugged at her long gloves, ensuring they were even, smoothed down the silky folds of her gown, and took a deep breath. She doubted that the dress would change anything, other than perhaps how she felt about herself.

  Her confidence had grown in Oscar’s absence. Being thrown headlong into society in such a manner had been daunting, but one thing had made a difference. She was no longer held in Pearl’s shadow. Oh, sometimes she was at the same events, and her dazzling sister still dazzled, and still murmured her vitriolic words.

  Yet the two of them did not enter a room together, they were not greeted in the same moment, and the feeling of always being the duller, less interesting sister had dissipated with her absence. People sought Ella out now and yes, often that was because of her title rather than any genuine desire to get to know her, but not always.