“My doctor will arrive by the morning. We must pray that she will survive the night until he is here,” the duke said.
“He did not accompany you?” Lady Sheffield asked as if she was accusing him of a great crime.
“Doctor Upton attends His Royal Highness. It was as a personal favor to me that he rushes to Cheshire this night. He will be arriving from London, and I expect he will have much to say about her condition,” the duke answered. “He is the best physician in the country.”
“Thank you, Your Grace, thank you,” Lady Sheffield said sincerely, gratitude seeping from her eyes. “We shall do all we can to see that she lives to see him. How can I repay your kindness?”
“There is nothing to repay. Pray that we are not too late and that he will be here in time. I will not lie to you; she is worse than I expected. If she lives, it will be a miracle,” the duke stated, as he kissed Lady Anna’s hand.
A smiled grazed across Lady Sheffield’s mouth, and she lowered her gaze.
“You there,” the duke said, as he turned to Katie. “You are her maid, are you not?”
“Indeed I am, Your Grace,” Katie whispered, as she struggled to her feet.
The duke left Lady Anna’s bedside long enough to remove his coat and hat, he dropped them on the chair by the fireside as he rolled up his sleeves, “Tell your cook that I wish to have a broth made for her at once. See that it is made of beef. Find your apothecary. He should have a remedy for the fever, a mustard plaster. If he does not have a mustard plaster, find a woman in the village who knows the old ways. Make haste, there is not much time.”
“Your Grace,” Lady Sheffield interjected with a perplexed and apprehensive expression on her face, “but a mustard plaster? Beef broth? What good can come of those old remedies? We have tried to make her a chicken broth, but it has not altered her condition. There has been not a single noticeable effect.”
“More good can come from these remedies than can come from making her any weaker by applying leaches,” the duke said with an insistent glare. “Allow me to tell you a tale from my youth, my lady.”
The duke awaited Lady Sheffield’s nod of approval and continued, “When I was a boy, my mother was often sick. She fainted; she grew weak; she was said to have a sickness of the blood. She had a terrible time of it; she was often feverish with ailments. My old nurse used to care for her after the doctors had left, and she believed in a thick beef broth for the blood and mustard for the fever. It saved my mother’s life many times, and I firmly believe that it would do the same for Lady Anna.”
Lady Sheffield stood silently, simply glancing at the duke. She seemed uncertain, afraid, and helpless, which was rather odd, considering she was a powerful woman, married to a powerful and influential man. The duke had known her for her strength, but at that very moment, she appeared even more fragile than Lady Anna.
Lady Sheffield pursed her lips briefly as the strength returned to her eyes and she nodded. “If you believe it will save her life, I have no objections to Your Grace’s advice.” Lady Sheffield then proceeded to turn to Katie and ordered, “Do as His Grace says. Do not delay. There isn’t any time to waste.”
“Yes, my lady,” Katie nodded and glanced briefly at the duke and said, “Thank you, Your Grace. Lady Anna will be glad you are here when she awakes,” before rushing out of the bedchambers with surprising quickness.
As the afternoon turned to night, she personally brought the tray after tray of broth to Lady Anna’s bedside. The apothecary was of little help when it came to the old remedies, but a wise old woman, who appeared to be as ancient as the oaks at Cragshead, with long raven-colored hair patched with silver and deep, sunken, blue eyes, was welcomed into the stately mansion of the Earl of Sheffield late that evening. In her ragged shawl and faded dress, she was greeted as warmly as if she was a duchess. That night, a countess, a duke, and woman who answered to the name Martha fought hard to keep Lady Anna alive.
The duke stayed at her side, excusing himself to the hallway when the mustard plaster was applied to Lady Anna’s chest. He spoke to her, held her hand, and stroked her brow under the watchful eye of her mother and her maid. Lord Munthorpe sat on the couch by the fireside, nodding in the early hours of the morning before light. The Earl of Sheffield made an appearance but was ushered from the room when he reacted with a scowl at the sight of a village woman in his daughter’s room.
“Anna, please, you must hold on,” the duke whispered, as he kissed her hand.
“It’s in the Lord’s hands now, Your Grace. I’ve done all I know to do for her,” the old woman said as she bowed her head.
“My dear woman, you have done enough. She still breathes because of your administrations. Allow me to pay you for your skill and remedies,” the duke said to the wise old woman.
“I did not come to take your money. It is God who gave me these gifts. I must use them where I can,” she said.
Lady Sheffield, looking exhausted but still aware of her duty, said, “You may not take our money, but I will see that you and your family are well provided for. You may rely on my word.”
The old woman did not say any more about the subject but bowed her head as she prayed. In the late hours of the night, just before dawn, a chorus of voices rose in prayer as Lady Anna murmured and tossed under her bedclothes. As the dawn lit the sky, she gripped the duke’s hand, using all her strength, as she opened her eyes.
Epilogue
December 1815
Feldham Manor
Cheshire
England
The Christmas season had come to the Cheshire. Holly decorated the mantle; a yule log burned in the fireplace of the hall. A table was set with enormous amounts of food and punch all for the villagers and laborers of the estate. Inside the drawing room of the Earl of Sheffield’s great Georgian home, Lady Anna sat at the fireside. Her brother, Lord Munthorpe, played cards with the guests, laughing as he was winning every hand with ease. The earl and countess chatted with the Viscount of Farnsworth and his wife while the Duke of Richmond sat in attendance of Lady Anna. His attention was upon her, as it had been for every day of her slow progress to recovery.
The mustard plaster was long gone, but the beef broth remained a part of her diet, as did other nourishing broths and tinctures prescribed to her by the physician to the king. Lady Anna was feeling better; the weakness was not as terrible as it once had been. She no longer felt the need to faint. She sat in a chair in the drawing room, the fire warmed her hands and face as did the cheerful decorations.
On this Christmas Eve, the drawing room was a bright, merry place. Musicians played carols far older than the walls of the newly constructed mansion. In the hallway, the laughter of farmers’ children could be heard, as the mincemeat pies and punch were enjoyed in equal measure. Martha, the wise old woman, stopped by to give her thanks to the lady of the manor for the fine gift of a ham and a hamper filled with the best bread, cakes, and jams from the larder of her ladyship.
During the evening, the duke approached Lord and Lady Sheffield as they were on their way to the drawing room. “Pardon me, my lord and my lady. May I speak with you privately?” the duke inquired.
Lord and Lady Sheffield exchanged intrigued glances. Lord Sheffield nodded and motioned to the door of the parlor. The three adults stepped into the parlor, and the duke closed the door behind him. He glanced nervously at Lord and Lady Sheffield and inhaled sharply.
“Your Grace, before you utter a word, there is something that I also wish to say to you,” Lord Sheffield said.
“Very well, my lord,” the duke said with a nod.
“Ever since our daughter was born, we had taken it upon ourselves, naturally, to care for her and ensure her safety, as well as her happiness,” Lord Sheffield said. It had been the very first time that the duke had heard anything emotional coming from the earl. He was a stern and quiet man, who commanded authority and obedience. Not once had the duke heard him speak about things regarding his family, or anything in
volving emotions and feelings. “I had spent every waking moment watching Anna grow up into the woman she is now, despite her illness. She had shown such tenacity and strength, but all of those traits truly flourished upon meeting you.”
A smile formed on the duke’s lips, and he said, “My lord, there—”
“I am not done, Your Grace,” Lord Sheffield said.
“Of course. I beg your humble pardon,” the duke said and lowered his gaze.
“My daughter was stricken with illness, yet it did not stop you from spending time with her. Her time at the Keep was brief, but I noticed a change in her, as I had noticed a tremendous change in her the past few months while you were here at Feldham Manor. It certainly means the world to us that she is happy, and I am fairly certain that it means the world to her as well. We only knew your father briefly while he was still alive, as well as your mother, but you have quickly become a part of this family, and we are very appreciative of your presence, your kindness, and the love you show onto not only Anna, but to us all.”
The duke waited for Lord Sheffield to speak again, but he did not. “My lord, my lady, it is I who must thank you for allowing me into your home, welcoming me with open arms, and treating me as though I am a part of your family. Your daughter captivated me from the very moment I set my glance on her, and it has only grown more and more with every passing day. I informed you the day you left Cragshead Keep that I was in love with your daughter and that I wished to spend the remainder of her days beside her. I did not say this only because I felt pity on her, but because I truly loved her then, and I still love her. I love her more than any person has ever loved another, and I am truly confident in my words, as I know they are true. Your daughter has taught me how to live and will continue to do so until we take our last breaths.”
Lady Sheffield smiled happily and nodded in gratitude.
“It is hence why I would wish to ask my lord and my lady for your blessing, as I wish to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage,” the duke said.
Lord and Lady Sheffield glanced at one another, and Lord Sheffield cleared his throat. The duke’s heart sunk into his boots, as he had learned that this was not a good thing for Lord Sheffield to do. Clearing his throat normally meant that he disapproved of something and would soon make his opinion on the matter clear.
“Your Grace, you are a gracious man, and it is very clear that my daughter is smitten with you. You have already proved yourself as a kind man, a man who would care for Anna regardless of the circumstances, and a man who can make her happy beyond her wildest dreams. I will grant you my permission, although I assume you already have the permission of Lady Sheffield,” Lord Sheffield said, and as expected, Lady Sheffield nodded in excitement and approval. “There is however one condition I wish to suggest to Your Grace before I give my permission.”
“Very well, my lord,” the duke answered and shifted his weight in slight discomfort.
“Although Anna is much better than she has been in the past ten years, I would still wish for her to remain in Cheshire, as the weather is much drier than in the North. If I do give my permission without this condition, I fear the air and damp of the North will be too much for her to bear. I do not wish that upon her,” Lord Sheffield explained.
“There is no need to fret, my lord. I have been in the process of selling Cragshead Keep and purchasing a nearby estate here in Cheshire in order for Lady Anna to be close to her family at all times, as well as in the dry air of Cheshire,” the duke explained.
“Your Grace, do my ears deceive me? Did you say that you sold your ancestral home to accommodate our daughter?” Lady Sheffield asked in slight disbelief.
“Indeed I have, my lady. My love for her is worth much more than an ancestral home, and I am confident that my mother and father would most certainly have no objection regarding my choice. Someone as wonderful, kind, and beautiful as Lady Anna only comes along once in a lifetime. She means everything to me. What use is an ancestral home if I have to spend my days alone? Then I would much rather have Lady Anna in my arms,” the duke answered sincerely. “And I must add, the weather is rather lovely here.”
Lady Sheffield smiled happily and glanced at the duke in approval. “Indeed it is, and it would be even more lovely if you were to marry our daughter.”
“I agree,” Lord Sheffield nodded and held out his hand to the duke. “You have my blessing, Your Grace. You are most deserving of marrying my daughter, and frankly, I cannot think of anyone more deserving.”
Lady Sheffield placed her hand on the duke’s shoulder and said, “I trust you are aware of the tragedy which had befallen our Anna regarding the vicar?”
“My dear,” Lord Sheffield warned, but the duke fobbed him off.
“I am aware of it. Lady Anna shared it with me,” the duke said.
“I told her many times after she had received the news that she will find the right man for her, and she wished to know how on earth would she be able to love another man as deeply as she had loved George Reardon. Would you care to know what my answer to her was?” Lady Sheffield asked, her eyes glinting in the candlelight.
“Do share, my lady,” the duke answered.
“I told her that the right man will heal all pain and heartache within an instant, and that was precisely what you have done, Your Grace, and for that we will be eternally grateful. Our daughter is very lucky to have someone like you in her life,” Lady Sheffield said.
“It is I who is the lucky one, my lady.”
Lady Anna had never been as happy as she was on that evening. Her illness, which nearly claimed her life, seemed a memory as distant to her as the moors of the North Country. The duke held a leather-bound book open in his hand. He read from the epic poem of Scott’s the “Lady of the Lake.” It was a thrilling poem, and he read it well. Yet, Lady Anna could not help but imagine the highland setting as being the moors near Cragshead as she remembered the view from the hill, the day she fell ill.
“Your Grace tell me again how you found me on that hill. I know you have told me once before, but I wish to hear the story,” Lady Anna asked.
“You would prefer your tale to that of Scott?” the duke asked, his green eyes sparkling with intrigue at her request.
“Yes, it is Christmas. Am I to be indulged one small deed?” Lady Anna answered, batting her lashes at him.
“You are indeed,” the duke answered, unable to resist the manner in which her eyes lured him in. “I recall it quite well. It was raining, the storm had reached its height when I returned to the Keep. I searched for you but not a soul in sight inside house could tell where you were. I remembered you enjoyed a stroll and became concerned. Luckily, a footman, who was walking from the village of Gray Fell, observed you climbing the hill beyond the castle. I immediately found every able bodied man and sent out a party to find you in the rain.”
“You found me. It was you who saved my life,” she said gratefully and placed her hand on his.
“I found you high upon a hillside. You were cold, and you lay upon the wet ground. Your face was as white as the grave, and I was terrified that death had taken you. I swore that I would save your life if I could.”
Anna smiled at him as she squeezed his hand, “You tried to tell my mother not to take me back to Cheshire, is that true?”
“It is true; you were very ill. Death was nearly upon you, and she insisted that you come home. I worried about you every minute you were gone until I could stand it not a minute more. I rushed here as quickly as I dared, riding in rain and wind to reach you.”
“How lucky I am that you did. Doctor Upton says that if it was not for you and Martha, I would have died of fever,” she said, her voice soft and tender. “You saved my life, and for that I shall always be grateful,” she replied, as she caressed his hand, kissing it in a shocking display of affection.”
“I saved your life with God’s help and Martha’s, and I would do it all again for you, my dear. I vowed that day upon the hill when I found you that
if you lived I would spend every pound I possessed to make you happy,” the duke said, as he gazed into her eyes.
The firelight reflected in the depths of his green eyes, and he spoke with a passion that made her heart leap with joy. “You have been by my side every day since you saved me. You have made me very happy indeed,” she whispered.
“If you would permit me, I would be at your side every day for the rest of our lives. I have spoken to your father this very day. I have to ask you a question, a question that I have longed to ask you since that day we stood side by side at the lake.”
“Your Grace,” she whispered, hypnotized by his steady gaze.
“There is no need to address me in such a way any longer, my dearest Anna. When you met me, I was Edward Gray. Allow me to be Edward to you, and you shall be my Anna,” the duke said and paused for a moment, as the moment he had been dreaming of ever since the first time he had seen Lady Anna wandering around in his study on that overcast October afternoon, the day which started it all, began to come true.
The day he finally started living, instead of merely existing.
The duke took her hand in his and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I am asking you to be my wife? Will you become the next Duchess of Richmond?”
Lady Anna did not have to spend a minute thinking about the answer. “When I was sick, when the fever gripped me, I heard your voice. I knew you were there in the room with me. Your voice gave me strength to fight, to survive. I love you, Edward Gray. I love you with all my heart. Yes, I want to be your wife, but I require a promise.”
“Anything you wish for, I will see that it is yours. I will move all of the earth if I must. What do you wish for, my darling. Say it, and it is yours.”
“I want to be married at Cragshead. I want to wear the heather from the moors upon my head the day we are married,” she requested.
Regency Engagements Box Set Page 9
