Reforming the Duke: A Regency Romance (Regency Matchmakers Book 2)

by Laura Beers

  “That is kind of you.” Adjusting the reins in her hand, she said, “I was hoping to ask you a few questions.”

  “You may, but I cannot promise I will be able to answer them.”

  Amelia’s horse pawed at the ground as she asked, “Do you know why the duke never spends time with his daughter?”

  Mr. Rawlings shook his head. “I do not, but that doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

  She cocked her head. “Why do you say that?”

  “The duke is a selfish man who only cares for himself,” he asserted. “It is of little wonder he tossed his daughter aside. She is only a girl, and not his precious heir.”

  “You truly believe the duke could be so callous?”

  “I do, without a doubt.”

  Amelia frowned. “At times, I feel like he is opening up—”

  Mr. Rawlings spoke over her. “Do not allow him to fool you,” he asserted. “He manipulates people into behaving exactly how he sees fit.”

  It was evident by the way Mr. Rawlings was speaking of the duke that he held a lot of animosity towards him. “May I ask why you hate the duke so much?” Amelia prodded.

  Mr. Rawlings huffed. “His Grace,” he started dryly, “is known for his unscrupulous business dealings around here.”

  “He is?”

  He nodded. “How do you think his steward has acquired so much land?”

  “I know not.”

  “A few years back, the duke started a fire on my parent’s land, ruining their crops for the season,” he shared. “Then, he offered them a price for their lands that was laughable, but they weren’t in a position to haggle. And I wasn’t in a position to help them out.”

  “That is awful,” she murmured. “How do you know the duke was responsible?”

  “Who else could it have been?” Mr. Rawlings asked. “Furthermore, he made Alice’s life a living hell. He seemed to thrive on her unhappiness.”

  “I am sure that is not true.”

  “I’m afraid it is,” he replied. “He wants everyone to be utterly miserable, much like himself.”

  Amelia’s horse whinnied, drawing her attention. “I must admit that I am still trying to make sense of the man.”

  “There is nothing to understand,” Mr. Rawlings said. “Be wary of him and do not fall prey to his charms.”

  She laughed. “I assure you that there is no chance of that happening. He barely tolerates me.”

  “I still urge you to be cautious.”

  Amelia knitted her brows together and asked, “Do you know how the duchess died?”

  “Supposedly during childbirth,” Mr. Rawlings huffed.

  “But you aren’t sure?”

  The man shifted his gaze away from her. “I can’t say for certain what happened that night, but it was awfully convenient that his wife died when she did. I daresay that the duke couldn’t have planned it better.”

  Amelia gasped. “What a terrible thing to say.”

  Mr. Rawlings shrugged. “Alice wanted nothing more than to be a mother, and the duke was well aware of that.”

  “But to imply the duke had something to do with his wife’s death…” Her voice trailed off.

  Running a hand over his hair, Mr. Rawlings remarked, “I am not saying anything that the people in the village aren’t thinking.”

  “Truly?”

  He nodded. “It is not just me that hates the duke,” he replied. “The villagers always try to dissuade people from working for him.”

  “You have given me much to think about, Mr. Rawlings,” she said, “and I thank you for your candor.”

  “You are welcome, Miss Blackmore.” He gave her a slight bow. “If you would like to speak to me again, I will be here in two days’ time.”

  Amelia tipped her head at him before she turned her horse around on the path. Then, she headed towards the entrance of the woodlands.

  Once she arrived, she scanned the horizon, looking for anyone that might witness her leaving the woodlands. Fortunately, she didn’t see anyone, so she exited the trees and rode towards Harrowden Hall.

  As the manor loomed ahead, Amelia saw that Miss Long and Lady Sybil were walking in the gardens. She reined in her horse, effortlessly dismounted, and approached them.

  “Good morning, Lady Sybil,” she greeted.

  Sybil smiled broadly at her and waved. “Amelia!”

  Amelia stopped a few feet from them. “How are you enjoying your walk in the gardens?” she asked.

  “It is lovely out here,” Sybil replied. “I have been picking flowers.”

  “You have?”

  Sybil held up her hand, revealing tulips. “Look at how many I have collected.”

  “That is quite a few.”

  Sybil looked proudly at her hand. “I’m going to put them in a vase and give them to Grandmother for her chamber.”

  “That is very thoughtful of you,” Amelia acknowledged. “Perhaps you could pick some cuckooflowers by the stream. I saw some beautiful pink ones.”

  Sybil turned her wide, pleading eyes towards her nurse. “Oh, could I? Please!”

  Miss Long looked unsure. “I don’t know.”

  “I will take her,” Amelia offered. “We will just walk over to the stream and pull a few flowers. It will take but a moment.”

  Sybil started jumping up and down in excitement. “Please, Miss Long!”

  “All right,” Miss Long said, holding out her hands for the reins, “but you must hurry.”

  After Amelia handed off the reins to the nurse, she held her hand out for Sybil’s. The little girl slipped her hand into hers and they hurried towards the stream in the red garden. It was a short distance away and they arrived in only a few moments.

  Amelia pointed towards the bank of the stream. “Do you see all those pale pink cuckooflowers?”

  “I do,” Sybil said in an excited voice. “How many do you think I should pick?”

  “How about you pick three and I pick three for your grandmother?” she suggested.

  Sybil looked up at her, and her amber-colored eyes sparkled in the sunlight. “I think that sounds brilliant.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  They stopped next to the bank and each pulled out three flowers. As they turned to leave, Sybil pointed at a frog that just hopped into the water. “Did you see that, Amelia?”

  “I did.”

  “Do you think Miss Long will let me keep a frog as a pet?”

  “I don’t think frogs do very well out of the water.”

  Sybil pouted. “I suppose you are right.”

  “Perhaps your father will let you get a dog?”

  With a shake of her head, Sybil said, “He won’t let me, because he doesn’t like me very much.”

  “That can’t possibly be true,” Amelia remarked.

  “He doesn’t even talk to me.”

  Amelia slipped her arm over the girl’s shoulder. “Your father is a very important man. A lot of people rely on him for their livelihood.”

  “I suppose so,” Sybil said softly, lowering her gaze.

  They had just turned to start walking back when the sound of the duke’s voice reached her ears. “Miss Blackmore!” he roared. “I would like to see you in my study, now!”

  Bringing her head up, Amelia saw the duke standing next to Miss Long with a thunderous expression on his features. He didn’t bother to wait for her reply before he turned back towards Harrowden Hall and stormed off.

  “Why is my father so angry?” Sybil asked, glancing up at her with a worried look on her face.

  “I don’t rightly know, but I have no doubt that I will find out soon enough.”

  Edmund sat at his desk as he glared at Miss Long. He was still waiting for Miss Blackmore to arrive. He had the most basic of rules, and yet the new nurse couldn’t even manage to follow them.

  Miss Blackmore stepped into the room with an apologetic look on her face. “My apologies, Your Grace,” she said. “It took longer than I anticipated to return
the horse to the stables.”

  “Have a seat, Miss Blackmore,” he growled.

  She complied, taking the seat next to Miss Long, then looked at him expectantly.

  Edmund could feel the anger welling up inside of him as he directed his comments towards Miss Long. “Did you not say that Mrs. Harris went over all the rules with you?”

  Miss Long nodded her head weakly and lowered her gaze.

  “And were you aware that your charge was not allowed to go anywhere near the stream in the red garden?”

  Again, Miss Long nodded her head.

  “So, I beg the question, why did you allow Lady Sybil to traipse next to the stream?”

  Miss Long’s eyes filled with tears as she replied, “I’m sorry, Your Grace.”

  “I’m afraid that apologizing isn’t sufficient, Miss Long,” he replied. “I have no choice but to dismiss you.”

  Miss Blackmore gasped. “But it wasn’t her fault!” she exclaimed as she moved to sit on the edge of her chair. “I was the one who escorted Lady Sybil down to the stream.”

  Edmund shot her an annoyed look. “It matters not, because Miss Long is the nurse. She is ultimately in charge of Lady Sybil.”

  “If anyone should be dismissed, it should be me,” Miss Blackmore asserted. “I was the one who informed Lady Sybil of the cuckooflowers growing along the bank of the stream. I practically forced Miss Long’s hand in the matter.”

  Leaning back in his chair, he took a moment to consider Miss Blackmore’s words. He also was forced to acknowledge it was becoming increasingly harder to find a nurse. Perhaps he shouldn’t dismiss her, but instead let her off with a stern reprimand.

  With his decision made, he said, “I won’t fire Miss Long, but her pay will be docked accordingly.”

  To his annoyance, Miss Blackmore shook her head. “Dock my pay instead,” she said.

  His brow lifted in surprise. “You would willingly allow me to dock your pay?”

  “I would.”

  “Pray tell, what punishment do you think would be fair for Miss Long, then?” he asked in a mocking tone.

  Miss Blackmore glanced over at Miss Long with a look of pity in her eyes. “I think she has been punished enough,” she replied.

  “You do?” Edmund huffed.

  “I do,” Miss Blackmore said, meeting his gaze. “After all, it is her first day, and I believe she has properly learned her lesson.”

  Edmund rose from his chair and mumbled under his breath, “You are unbelievable.” He walked over to the window and looked out. “I suppose I am willing to overlook this infraction, but Miss Long will lose her breaks for the next three days.”

  Miss Long brought her head up, and he could see the relief wash over her features. “That is more than reasonable, Your Grace. Thank you.”

  “Be this a lesson for you,” he warned. “I won’t be so kind if you do not follow the rules from here on.”

  “I understand.”

  Edmund waved his hand. “Now, off with you,” he ordered. “I need to speak to Miss Blackmore privately.”

  Miss Long rose from her chair and dipped into a curtsy. “Yes, Your Grace.”

  After the nurse left the room, Edmund turned back from the window and faced Miss Blackmore. “What am I going to do with you?”

  Rising, Miss Blackmore clasped her hands in front of her and met his gaze, her eyes showing no fear or hesitation.

  “You deliberately break rules without the slightest regard for the consequences,” Edmund said.

  “I was not aware that Lady Sybil was not to approach the stream.”

  “You weren’t?

  She shook her head.

  “Would that have made a difference?”

  Miss Blackmore tilted her chin defiantly. “No, it wouldn’t have,” she replied. “After all, that stream was nothing more than a babbling brook.”

  “Sybil could have slipped on the wet ground and hurt herself.”

  “That is why I remained next to her,” Miss Blackmore argued. “We were just picking flowers to put into a vase for your mother.”

  “Whose idea was that?”

  Miss Blackmore smiled. “It was your daughter’s. She wanted to cheer up her grandmother. Wasn’t that thoughtful of her?”

  “It matters not. Sybil is not allowed by the stream for any reason.”

  “I am surprised you care so much,” she muttered.

  Edmund tensed. “I beg your pardon!”

  With a fiery gaze, Miss Blackmore declared, “You neglect your daughter most terribly.”

  “That is none of your concern.”

  “Lady Sybil thinks you hate her, because you hardly speak to her,” Miss Blackmore continued as she took a step closer to him.

  “You need to learn your place, Miss Blackmore,” he growled.

  Miss Blackmore stood her ground. “Lady Sybil needs you in her life, Your Grace. She just wants to be loved by you.”

  “That is enough!” he shouted with a swipe of his hand.

  “I’m not finished!” she declared.

  “Oh, yes, you are!”

  Miss Blackmore approached him without the slightest hesitation and stopped just in front of him. “Your daughter is a sweet, inquisitive girl that needs to be free to explore and experience life outside of the nursery.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you quite done, Miss Blackmore?”

  “I am.”

  Edmund pressed his lips together in an attempt to suppress his anger. He was trying to sort through the splintered thoughts and emotions raging inside of him. Finally, he spoke in a sharp tone. “The only reason why I have not dismissed you is because you saved my mother from the runaway horse and cart.” He leaned closer to her. “But that will not always be enough to protect you, so I warn you to curb your sharp tongue.”

  Her eyes searched his as she asked, “Did you hear anything that I said, Your Grace?” He could hear the disappointment in her voice.

  “I did, but your opinion hardly matters to me,” he replied dismissively. “I will raise Lady Sybil how I see fit, and I would remind you to know your place. You are barely above a servant.”

  Miss Blackmore stiffened at his callous remark. “I’ve tried to be patient with you, but I still find you to be utterly insufferable.”

  “You have attempted to be patient with me?” he repeated in disbelief.

  Her eyes grew determined. “I am beginning to think that you are past hope.”

  “How dare you speak to me in such a high-handed manner!”

  Miss Blackmore took a step back. “I am going to make this easy on you, Your Grace,” she said. “I quit.”

  “You quit?”

  Miss Blackmore nodded. “I find that I don’t want to work for you any longer.”

  “I won’t be giving you a reference.”

  “I don’t require one, nor would I want one from you.”

  Edmund frowned. “But without a reference, where will you go?”

  “You do not need to concern yourself with me,” Miss Blackmore replied, squaring her shoulders. “I will ensure my trunks are packed, and I will depart as soon as I am able to.”

  “My mother will be very sad to see you go,” he found himself admitting. “She has grown rather fond of you.”

  A sad smile came to Miss Blackmore’s lips. “I shall miss her, too,” she replied. “She reminds me of my mother in so many ways.”

  “You don’t have to quit, Miss Blackmore,” he attempted. Somehow, the thought of her leaving didn’t quite settle well with him.

  Her face softened. “I think this would be the best, for both of us.”

  “I’m not sure that is true.” Why did I just admit that, he wondered.

  Miss Blackmore took a step closer to him. “Try to be better, Your Grace,” she said, her eyes pleading with his. “You have a lovely daughter who just wants to be loved.”

  Not wishing to continue this conversation further, he remarked, “I wish you luck with your endeavors, Miss Blackmore.” His t
one signaled the end of the conversation.

  She curtsied. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  Edmund watched as Miss Blackmore turned and departed from the room. For some reason, he had the sudden urge to run after her and apologize, begging her to stay. But that would be ludicrous. He’d done nothing wrong. She was the one who had quit, and he should be rejoicing in the fact that he was finally rid of his mother’s vexing companion. After all, isn’t that what he wanted to begin with?

  If so, why did he feel only dread at the thought of her leaving?

  His mother’s voice broke through his musings. “She is right, you know,” she said from the doorway.

  “About what in particular?”

  She gave him a knowing look. “About everything.”

  “I disagree,” Edmund replied with a shake of his head. “It is better for her to be gone.” At least, he needed to convince himself of that.

  His mother limped into the room and walked over to a chair. “I have noticed a change in you since Amelia arrived.”

  “You have?”

  “You have softened a bit.”

  Edmund walked over to his desk and sat down. “It matters not,” he said. “She has quit and will be leaving Harrowden Hall shortly.”

  “You could ask her to stay.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “You want me to beg your companion to stay?” he huffed. “I think not.”

  “The whole household has been affected by Miss Blackmore’s presence, as well,” his mother shared. “She has brought with her a cheerful disposition that has charmed nearly everyone.” She hesitated, before adding, “Everyone except for you.”

  Edmund gave his mother a disapproving look. “You shouldn’t be out of bed, Mother.”

  His mother waved her hand dismissively in front of her. “I will be fine. I am more worried about you.”

  “Why would you worry about me?”

  She smiled tenderly at him. “Because that is a mother’s job,” she explained. “I worry about you incessantly.”

  “That isn’t necessary.”

  “You are making a mistake in letting Amelia go,” his mother asserted.

  “In what way?” he asked, frowning.

  “Because you know that you were in the wrong, and I think a part of you doesn’t want to see her gone, either.”