The Corinthian Duke

by Emma V. Leech

  “No,” she said in all seriousness. “I’m not.”

  Oscar snorted. “Fair enough.” He leaned down and nipped at her earlobe, making her squirm. “Tell me anyway,” he whispered.

  With a sigh, Ella pouted at him.

  “Well, if you must know… and perhaps you really don’t, but…. Oh, I have loved you for such a long time and, for all of it, I had to make myself believe you’d never be mine, but I don’t have to think that way any longer. It’s… it’s the most wonderful realisation, Oscar. I love you, and I don’t have to hide it anymore.”

  “I love you too, dearest Bug,” he said, grinning as she rolled her eyes at the revolting pet name. “My dearest, darling little Bug. I wouldn’t change a hair or a freckle or a single thing about you. I’m only sorry I caused you such unhappiness by being such a blasted fool.”

  Ella sighed, forgiving the wretched nickname in the circumstances. He could call her Bug for the rest of her days if he continued to say things like that.

  “Just don’t do it again,” she said, making her voice scolding and severe even though she was trying not to laugh.

  His face fell, and he grew quiet and Ella felt a little knot of anxiety pull tight in her belly.

  “What?” she asked, as a frown gathered on his brow.

  “Ella, promise you won’t be cross,” he said, an uncertain look in his eyes.

  “Oscar?” Ella sat up, suddenly terrified by the shift in his demeanour as he moved to sit beside her and take her hand. “What is it?”

  Oscar cleared his throat and looked so damn nervous Ella felt sweat prickle down the back of her neck.

  “I… I may have done something a little… er… reckless, when I was in London.” He gave a weak laugh. “You might even think it a little… foolish.”

  Ella stared at him, hardly daring to breathe as he rubbed the back of his neck and looked like he might be sick.

  “What?” she demanded, the words shrill with worry.

  “I-I have agreed to a boxing match… against Luther Blackehart.”

  Chapter 21

  “Wherein Pearl faces the future, and Oscar… Blackehart.”

  Despite the pleasing ache of exhaustion that lingered in Ella’s bones, she spent a rather fitful night, worrying herself silly over Oscar’s bottle-brained notions of entertainment. Men were far bigger children when fully grown than she could ever have been accused of being. Of all the ridiculous things to get himself into, this had to be the most idiotic.

  He placated her, temporarily at least, by giving her his undivided attention when she woke up. Mildly embarrassed by the way she’d then moaned and writhed beneath his clever tongue and questing fingers, she’d been quite unable to scold him any more than she already had. No doubt his intention from the start.

  Bertie, however, did not help matters by giving her a full and thorough description of Luther Blackehart, not sparing her any details of his frankly terrifying reputation.

  “Brute will remove his head and hand it back to him,” Bertie replied, his tone cheerful as he tucked into a plateful of kedgeree.

  Ella felt the colour drain from her face as she sank into her chair. Oscar had gone off to check on progress at Berry Street, having eaten whilst Ella was still dressing.

  “Oh, don’t fret, Bug. Oscar will bounce. Never knew such a fellow for landing on his feet.”

  “B-But you said the man is a criminal… a… an arch rogue, you said,” Ella protested, her stomach clenching with anxiety. “You said he was seven feet tall and half as wide and could likely knock Oscar out with one hand tied behind his back.”

  Bertie hesitated, perhaps now regretting having been so forthcoming in agreeing that Oscar was a beetle-headed gudgeon in the face of Ella’s obvious terror.

  “Well, I only glimpsed him,” Bertie said, retreating behind his hazy memory now. “You know what I am for remembering faces. Could be the fellow isn’t so big as I remember.”

  Ella scowled at him and made an unflattering comment about men in general and brothers in particular, before leaving Bertie alone.

  Not only did she have Oscar to worry about, now she had to face Pearl too, and what on earth they were to do about that situation, she simply couldn’t fathom.

  She hesitated outside Pearl’s door, and did her best to find an encouraging, positive expression to wear before she knocked and entered.

  Pearl was sitting up in bed having breakfast and, to Ella’s relief, looked far more herself than she had yesterday. The colour had returned to her cheeks and, though her eyes were shadowed with worry, she appeared more rested than she had.

  “Good morning. How are you feeling? You look much better.”

  Pearl shrugged but smiled a little. “I feel better. Less hysterical at least,” she said, looking a little embarrassed.

  “You had every right to feel hysterical, Pearl, but I’m so glad you came to me.”

  Ella hesitated, wondering how to broach the subject, but Pearl spoke before she could ask.

  “He’s gone,” she said. “Mr Jones left two days ago without telling me. Do you know, he even had the audacity to ask Father for a reference?” Pearl laughed, though it was a bitter sound.

  “Everyone knew he was leaving but me, though no one seems to know where he’s gone.”

  Ella’s heart clenched at the misery in her sister’s face. “Oh, Pearl. I’m so sorry.”

  She reached out and took her sister’s hand, and Pearl turned her large blue eyes towards her.

  “You really are, aren’t you?” Pearl said, the words tinged with astonishment. “I would think you’d rejoice in seeing me brought so low, after the way I’ve treated you.”

  Ella hesitated before asking the question she’d always puzzled over. “Why, Pearl? Why did you hate me so?”

  Pearl shrugged and looked away, removing her hand from Ella’s. Ella watched her delicate fingers plucking at the bedcovers, a nervous gesture that was quite out of character. Unlike Ella, Pearl was always still and serene. How things had changed.

  Pearl seemed to take a moment to compose herself before she spoke, smoothing the covers out now and placing her hands demurely before her, one on top of the other.

  “You usurped my position. I was the centre of our parents’ world before you came along, but Mama always loved you best.”

  Ella stared at her, shocked. “But… you’re the image of her. Everyone says it. Why—?”

  “Because you’re like Papa, and she adored him,” Pearl said, smiling now. “You don’t remember her, do you?”

  “Only a little,” Ella admitted. “I remember beautiful gowns and being sung to sleep, and the scent of orange blossom.”

  Pearl nodded. “Well, you were the centre of her world, it seemed to me, and then… then you took Oscar too.”

  Ella felt her throat tighten. There was nothing she could say to defend herself against that accusation.

  Pearl laughed and reached out to take Ella’s hand.

  “Oh, not when you married him. It was long before that. When you were a little girl. He was my friend and then you grew up enough to want to play too, and you didn’t care about getting your dress muddy. You didn’t care when he teased you or pulled your hair, you just pulled his in return. You never cried or complained, you just tumbled about in his wake like a puppy. He was always yours, Ella, not mine. He adored you, and though I never wanted him as a husband, I think I never forgave you for that.”

  “I didn’t know,” Ella said, feeling helpless and a little adrift in the light of this information, though everything made a great deal more sense now.

  Pearl nodded and lay back against the pillows.

  “I’ve spent my whole life trying to be perfect,” she said, staring towards the windows at a sky that was a bright, cobalt blue. “Do you know how exhausting it is to be perfect all the time?”

  Ella laughed and shook her head as Pearl turned back and gave her a rueful smile.

  “I haven’t the faintest idea,” Ella admitted.


  “No,” her sister said, and there was almost admiration in her tone. “You don’t, do you? Well, it is, and I’ve decided I don’t want to be perfect any longer. I’m keeping the baby.”

  Ella let out a breath and then moved forward, hugging Pearl tightly. “I’m so glad, Pearl.”

  Pearl hugged her back and when Ella let her go, she found there were tears in Pearl’s eyes, but the desperation of the day before was absent.

  “You… you’ll really still see me, after the baby is born?”

  “Oh, Pearl, you goose. Try to keep me away,” she said, feeling her own eyes prickle now.

  Pearl smiled, and then hesitated. “Do you remember, years ago, we went to Scotland to one of Oscar’s estates? There was a house close to a loch and you could walk into the village.”

  Ella nodded. “Yes, I remember. It was a beautiful place.”

  “Do you think Oscar might let me go there, to have the baby and… and maybe stay there a while until… well, until I know what Father means to do about me?”

  Ella grasped her hands, her expression fierce. “I know I ought not say without asking him, but I know Oscar would give you the house, Pearl. We won’t let Father bully you into something you don’t want to do.”

  “He’ll want me to go away and give up the baby.”

  “Yes,” Ella agreed, knowing it was true. “But we will keep you safe, Pearl, you and the baby. You have my word. Nothing will happen that you don’t want.”

  Pearl let out a breath, and the remaining tension seemed to leave her. “I’ve been such a fool, Ella. All my silly pretensions and hopes I could be a duchess and still have George. I intended to bring him with me when I married Oscar, you know.”

  Ella blanched, but kept her mouth shut, and Pearl laughed.

  “Well, there’s a first. I’ve shocked you for a change.”

  She watched as Pearl smoothed her hands over her stomach.

  “It’s a relief in some ways, you know. Not having to live that life, not having to care whether I have a blemish, or my hair isn’t perfect, or I have a headache and I don’t want to smile any longer. I’ve ruined everything, and it’s strangely liberating. As long you don’t abandon me, and don’t let Father cast me out, I think I can live with that. I think I could try to be different.”

  “I never would.”

  Pearl nodded, her gaze placid as she stared at her. “I know,” she said. “You’re my sister.”

  Ella smiled.

  ***

  “She’s what?”

  Oscar stared at her, eyes wide with shock.

  Ella smoothed her hand over the picnic blanket and wondered how much to tell him. Pearl had given her leave to tell him everything, but still.

  She’d met him at Berry Street bearing a picnic, eager to discover how things were coming along. Sitting in the sun by the river with him at ease seemed a good moment to tell him, though she’d been reluctant to break the spell of what had been a lovely afternoon.

  The river burbled past, the sun warm upon her face. The scent of summer was in the air and Ella was filled with a sense of anticipation. Their lives together were just beginning, and she was filled with excitement. As long as Oscar didn’t kill himself in this blasted boxing match. Her face darkened. Something would have to be done about that.

  For now, she turned her attention back to her husband, who was looking at her with disbelief shining in his eyes.

  “She’s pregnant, Oscar, and the father was a footman on our estate. George Jones. Apparently, they’d been lovers for some time.”

  Oscar sat, gaping, and looking a little like a landed fish.

  “Do close your mouth, darling,” she said, putting her finger beneath his chin and pushing. “You look like a carp.”

  He scowled a little, shaking his head.

  “How pregnant?” he asked, a dark look growing in his eyes.

  Ella stared down at the blanket, following the line of the tartan pattern beneath her with a finger. “She isn’t sure. Five months, perhaps.”

  Oscar caught his breath and she could see him thinking it over.

  “No wonder she was so keen for me to set a date. She’d never seemed anxious about it until this year, and suddenly she wanted it done. Oh, God, Ella. She would have passed it off as mine.”

  Ella said nothing, unwilling to damn Pearl any further even though she was still shocked herself.

  Before she could consider what to say next, Oscar had hauled her into his arms, clutching her to him.

  “Thank you,” he said, his voice reverent and rather husky. “Thank you for being brave and madcap and foolish enough to stand by me.”

  He kissed her then and Ella felt a thrill of sheer happiness bubbling up inside her as she slid her arms about his neck.

  When he drew back his eyes were bright, his expression full of adoration. He put his hand to her cheek. “It terrifies me to think what my life might have been if not for you, my darling girl. What if you hadn’t ridden Virago that day? What if you hadn’t been the most courageous, outrageous creature in the country? My God, Ella. I love you to distraction. You do know that?”

  “Yes,” Ella said, laughing now as tears pricked at her eyes. “And it’s such a relief. Now you know how I have felt about you since forever.”

  She kissed him again, and the rest of the afternoon passed in a most delightful manner.

  ***

  Three weeks later and Ella stood on the steps before Chancery, with Oscar at her side, as they waved Pearl off.

  She would make the journey to Scotland in easy stages and Ella had promised her that they would both come and visit as soon as she was settled. She was also determined to be with her sister for the birth, a fact which had brought Pearl to tears.

  In the weeks since Pearl had arrived on their doorstep there had begun the foundations of a far closer relationship. It was new and tentative, but it seemed they were both set on making amends and mending bridges.

  Ella had made the first steps by standing at Pearl’s side as she broke the news to their father.

  He had been predictably furious, shocked, and heartbroken. It had been a tremendous ordeal for them both, but especially Pearl. Ella had held fast as she’d promised, though, and stood firm in the face of her father’s anger. There were some perks to being a duchess. She outranked her father and, with Oscar’s unflinching support, he had capitulated to their wishes.

  Pearl would retire from the public eye and bring up her child in seclusion. Ella hoped that one day she would be brave enough to face the scandal and return to society, but that would be her sister’s decision to make. If she made it, Ella would stand at her side.

  Now the carriage had turned the corner, out of sight, she looked back to Oscar, who was quiet and uncharacteristically sheepish.

  “It will be fine, Ella. Do stop worrying.”

  Ella thumped him.

  “Ow!” Oscar exclaimed, rubbing his shoulder. “What the devil was that for?”

  “For being an idiot,” she said, swallowing hard. “How on earth can you think I can stop worrying when you’re about to face a man everyone says is a murderer and a villain? You have to withdraw, Oscar.”

  A mutinous expression crossed his face and he shook his head.

  “I can’t, Ella. You know I can’t.”

  “I know nothing of the sort, you pig-headed fool.” She stamped her foot, overcome with fury at her impotence to stop him and turned away, stalking back into the house.

  “Ella!”

  Oscar’s imploring voice followed her, but she was too angry to turn back. The last weeks together had been blissful, despite the stresses of facing her father over Pearl’s predicament. The only thing that had truly tainted her happiness had been the black cloud of Oscar’s impending fight.

  Pearl wasn’t the only one leaving today.

  Oscar was packed and ready to go to London. He had written to Blackehart the previous week, making a new date for their fight. It would take place in two days
and he was taking Bertie with him for moral support. He’d refused, point blank, to allow Ella to accompany him. Nothing she said would change his mind.

  Her reaction to that had resulted in their first, truly spectacular row.

  Now she stalked to the library, slamming the door with enthusiasm. She walked to the window, clutching her arms about herself and trying hard not to cry. The door opened again, and she knew Oscar had followed her, but she ignored him, too full of fear and anger and frustration to forgive him.

  His large hands slid about her shoulders and he tried to pull her back against his chest, but she moved away from him, out of his grasp.

  “Ella, please, love,” he pleaded. “I have to go. Don’t make me do it like this. You’re breaking my heart.”

  Ella made a sound of misery, enraged with him still but unable to ignore such beseeching words. She turned and threw herself into his arms as he held her tight.

  “I’m so angry with you,” she sobbed, clutching at him.

  “I know, love. No more than I am with myself, I assure you, but… we all do reckless things from time to time.” He gave her a rather rueful expression as she glared at him.

  “Oscar Paget, don’t you dare throw that back in my face. I did that for you!”

  “I know,” he said, the words quiet as he stroked her cheek. “And I will come back in one piece, for you.”

  She snorted and looked away from him in disgust, having no great faith in that assurance.

  “Perhaps a little bruised around the edges though,” he added, ducking his head to meet her eyes. “I’ll need a deal of looking after and kissing better,” he wheedled.

  Ella sighed and allowed him to kiss her, melting into his embrace despite everything. She pushed at his chest as he released her.

  “I’m only so angry because I’m terrified, Oscar,” she said, blinking away tears as her throat closed with emotion.

  “I know,” he whispered. “And I’ll never give you such cause for worry again, you have my word. I’ll come back to you, my darling. I swear I will.”

  Ella nodded, kissed him again, and forced herself to wave him off without crying.