Regency Engagements Box Set

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Regency Engagements Box Set Page 76

by Charlotte Fitzwilliam


  It was rather ironic how she was especially out of his reach at that moment. Lord Dunkirk had been convinced that Lady Mirabell would respond to his letters, even if it was only to tell him that he should stop his incessant babbling on paper and leave her alone to grieve. The earl believed that Mirabell would have at least done that, but there was nothing. No letter from her, no word. He had spent afternoons waiting to hear from her. Even long after he had sent out the last letter, letter number thirty, he had waited for a response but received nothing.

  This morning, as he gazed out at the horizon, watching as a new day had started, Lord Dunkirk felt oddly optimistic. He was not certain why, but he was not the kind of man who would question his instincts. Lord Dunkirk heard a gentle rap on the glass pane of the door which led to the terrace, and he glanced at his manservant, Victor, as he approached the table.

  “Pardon the intrusion, my lord,” Victor apologized. Victor was a very tall and formal man with a thin physique and dark hair and eyes.

  “There is no need to apologize, Victor,” the earl answered with a warm smile.

  Lord Dunkirk glanced at the manservant and noticed a letter in his hand, and his heart pounded instantly in his chest.

  “Is that for me?” the earl inquired, motioning to the letter.

  “Indeed, my lord. Lady Amelia’s father sent it to you, my lord,” Victor answered and handed the letter to him.

  “Thank you, Victor,” Lord Dunkirk answered, his jaw clenching.

  “It is not from whom you expected it to be, is it, my lord?” Victor inquired.

  “Am I that transparent, Victor?” Lord Dunkirk sighed.

  “Not at all, my lord. I simply recall all the letters you have sent out to Mirabell, and you have not received a single letter in response,” Victor answered. “Is Lady Mirabell ill?”

  “I do hope not,” the earl answered sipping his tea and noticing a yellow butterfly land on the white tablecloth. “I merely wished to reconnect with her. I wanted to ensure that she was doing well after the death of her dear sister, but clearly, she wishes not to speak with me.”

  “Forgive me, my lord, but have you done something which might have upset Lady Mirabell?” Victor asked.

  “Perhaps she is under the impression that I simply left her, and with no proper reason. Perhaps she was not aware of my father’s passing, as we had kept it very quiet. Perhaps she felt abandoned, and now she is still angered by that,” Lord Dunkirk explained.

  “Or perhaps she had heard of your engagement to Lady Amelia,” Victor suggested.

  “I did write to her about it, but why on Earth would she be upset about that?” Lord Dunkirk asked. “She had never shown an interest in me in such a way.”

  “Perhaps she was merely too shy to do so, or perhaps she had thought my lord does not feel that way about her.”

  “That is preposterous, Victor,” Lord Dunkirk scoffed. “Mirabell was not in love with me, and I do not believe it for a moment.”

  “But you are still in love with her,” Victor pointed out and glanced expectantly at Lord Dunkirk.

  “I am betrothed to be married, Victor,” Lord Dunkirk said stiffly as he straightened his shoulders.

  “That does not mean that you do not still love Lady Mirabell,” Victor pointed out.

  Lord Dunkirk pursed his lips, as he was well aware his manservant knew him even better than he knew himself.

  “My lord?” Victor said and raised his brows.

  The earl felt defeated as his shoulders slumped, and he answered, “I will love Lady Mirabell until the day I die.”

  “That would be unfair towards Lady Amelia, would it not?” Victor asked.

  “I will be an honorable husband to her and meet all of her needs. I do not have the power to change my heart more than a rock has the power to change the attitude in which it sits. I am powerless, but I cannot stay a bachelor forever. I must plan for my legacy and have children,” Lord Dunkirk said in deep thought and with a furrowed brow.

  “I see, my lord. You have not taken to the newer views that marriage should be for love?”

  “I do not follow partisan attitudes regarding love in marriage. My mother often said it was déclassé to show too much affection to one’s spouse, but she was of an older generation. I secretly wish to be wed to my true love, but Lady Mirabell will never be mine. So the older views are a support to me in what God has planned for me.”

  “I know that you want to honor your father’s memory and his agreement, my lord, but you do not have to go through with this,” Victor stated with a hesitant voice. “You have never even met her. Perhaps you should call your attorney and have him look at the Marriage Articles again with an eye toward revocation. Perhaps you can have the agreement that your father made regarding this betrothal dissolved.”

  “Marriage Articles are binding in court. I have not met Lady Amelia, but my father obviously thought it would be important for our families to be joined. He promised that I would marry the Scottish girl, and several plots of land are tied up in the merger of our two families. My family line and those who will inherit my title could lose half of the land my family has owned for generations if I am sued for breach of promise.” Lord Dunkirk argued, highlighting these things to himself more than to his manservant.

  “The agreement was made when you both were children, and you have not even written directly to each other.”

  Lord Dunkirk had heard enough from Victor, and he muttered, “You have crossed a line, Victor.”

  “I sincerely apologize. I will leave you to read the letter in private,” Victor answered, seeming rather unaffected by Lord Dunkirk’s angered expression as he quietly left the terrace.

  The earl stood motionless for a few moments until he opened the letter from Lady Amelia’s father and glanced down to read the news. The words somewhat surprised him as, although she was supposed to come and meet him the following month, she would be staying in Scotland for longer than initially planned. Her mother had fallen ill, and she would stay until her mother was better. Lord Dunkirk was partly relieved by this news, as he much enjoyed the quiet of his estate.

  While he had heard that Lady Amelia was a beautiful woman, he had also heard that she spoke with much vigor and passion. She also spoke her mind more often than expected and could ramble on about anything for hours if given the opportunity to do so. Lord Dunkirk was not used to such continuous talking.

  Lord Dunkirk folded the letter and sat back down, glancing out at the horizon. He continued to sit there for another while before deciding he needed to surround himself with people. There was no point in sulking on his own on a glorious and beautiful day, and perhaps he would find that the day would be filled with promise as he had initially thought earlier.

  Lady Mirabell unfolded the first letter, which was at the bottom of the stack, and opened it as she settled onto the comfortable bed inside her chambers. She had left the presence of her parents and spared no time searching for the letters which were the key to her happiness.

  Although her father and mother had promised to assist her in locating Fredrick, Mirabell was rather anxious and excited to start. She finally had a desire to read his letters, even after all these months which had passed, and hopefully, they would tell her where he was.

  When his letters started to arrive at their home in Bristol, Lady Mirabell wanted nothing to do with them, and she had threatened on more than one occasion to dispose of them. Even after Mirabell had asked her mother to dispose of them, Lady Burkett simply placed them back in her dressing table drawer. The letters soon came on a daily basis, and Lady Mirabell was overwhelmed by them but not surprised at Lord Dunkirk’s persistence and tenacity. Lord Dunkirk had always been a determined young man, even as a child, which had been one of the things Mirabell had adored about him. Frankly, she still adored that about him, although she feared her silence had indicated to him that she did not wish to speak with him any longer.

  Truthfully, for a while after Lady Marjorie passed, Mirab
ell did not wish to speak with anyone, and this included Lord Dunkirk. It was not because she wished to alienate everyone from her life, but Lady Mirabell was heartbroken and devastated after Lady Marjorie passed, and isolating herself from the rest of the world had been her way of coping with her loss. It was most certainly not the correct way to deal with a loss and grief, but it was the only manner in which Mirabell felt safe to grieve in peace.

  Lady Mirabell had kept to herself ever since then, and the stroll with the duke had been the very first time she had left the sanctity of the presence of her parents. Luckily, she had not been alone in her first journey back into the world, although Ms. Nora had pulled the rug out from under her when she informed Mirabell of her father’s arrangement. Mirabell still wished to discuss it with her parents, but that most certainly had to wait.

  Lord Dunkirk’s words were beautiful and elegant, as was he, and her heart bled as she read of his father’s passing, which had been the reason why he had to leave. Mirabell had blamed him many times for leaving her when she needed him the most, but not once considered that he needed her support also.

  He too experienced a loss, his father, and the news of his father’s passing made Lady Mirabell feel incredibly guilty. She had only thought of herself and her pain, whilst Lord Dunkirk had to deal with his own pain and loss.

  Mirabell bit her bottom lip as she read how her dear friend, Fredrick, had to take over the duties at his father’s estate. It was much larger than he thought it would be, and living there would most certainly be an adjustment.

  Fredrick signed the bottom of the letter, ending it on a rather abrupt note, but Mirabell was certain he became too emotional to continue. In fact, she imagined him stifling his tears, attempting to be strong, as he had done even when they were children.

  Lady Mirabell recalled one afternoon while in Bristol, where she, Lady Marjorie and Lord Dunkirk had attempted to climb a hedge to see the other side of the garden. Lady Mirabell had made it to the top, while Marjorie was assisted up by Fredrick. Fredrick had tried to pull himself up but fell to the ground with a rather loud and painful thud. He had stood up and brushed himself off, but Mirabell clearly noticed the shallow tears in his eyes. He did not wish for the two young girls to see his tears, and Mirabell pretended they were not even there. She simply asked him whether he needed any help and if he was all right. Naturally, he declined her assistance as well as insisting that he was perfectly fine. Lady Mirabell did not utter a word afterward, as she knew the kind of home he had grown up in.

  Lord Danbury, Lord Dunkirk’s father, was a very stringent and strict man, and Lady Mirabell was quite surprised that Lord Dunkirk was allowed to visit her and Lady Marjorie as often as he had. At Lord Danbury’s townhouse in Bristol, only a short walk from Mirabell’s home, Mirabell felt out of place, although Fredrick insisted she was welcome there at any given time.

  Lord Danbury had been a tall man with broad shoulders and a stern expression permanently fixed on his face. The marquess was terrifying to say the least as Lady Mirabell could not recall a single incident when he smiled.

  It was of no surprise to Mirabell that Fredrick was forced to be the strong, silent type of man his father had also been.

  In direct contrast, Lady Danbury was the kindest and most gentle woman in the entire world, and Lady Mirabell often spent afternoons conversing with her while waiting on Lord Dunkirk.

  As she read, tears suddenly filled Mirabell’s eyes, and she placed the letter on the bed in front of her. Her heart ached and longed for her very good friend, who had secretly become much more than a good friend to her.

  Mirabell had blamed Lord Dunkirk for several months for not being there for her when she needed him, and now she realized that she had been terribly wrong and selfish for doing so. Mirabell could not even imagine losing her own father, as it was much too painful to even think of. But she saw that they both had lost someone close to them and were like one heart in their loss. They shared the same kind of pain and had something in common that few people could understand.

  She fell asleep in her sadness and awoke the next morning to see the letter. Before she opened her eyes, her groggy mind was at an even keel. But when she opened her eyes and saw the letter, her stomach clenched and her mind saddened to remember the losses that had occurred.

  Composing herself as best she could, she wiped the tears from under her eyes and glanced at the letter. There was not a forwarding address, and she quickly rummaged through the stack of other letters in search of an address.

  A knock on her door caused her to abandon her search and turn away from the letters, just as her mother entered her bedchambers.

  “Good morning, my dearest Mirabell,” her mother beamed, but her smile faded slightly as she gazed upon the letters sprawled on the bed in front of Lady Mirabell. “I see you have been busy.”

  “Indeed, Mother,” Mirabell answered and briefly glanced at the letters. “I cannot seem to find an address or any indication where Lord Dunkirk is. He may still be in Bristol or London. Who knows?”

  “Perhaps you can come downstairs and join me for breakfast,” Lady Burkett suggested.

  “Father will join us, will he not?” Mirabell asked.

  “Your father is set to meet with an acquaintance of his,” Lady Burkett answered. “He will only return later this afternoon.”

  “Very well, Mother. I will only be a moment,” Lady Mirabell said and glanced reassuringly at her mother.

  Lady Burkett nodded wordlessly before quietly leaving the chambers. Lady Mirabell glanced down at the letters, desperate to find an indication where Lord Dunkirk might be. Lady Mirabell was about to abort her search when she came across something written on the back of the one of the sealed letters and reached for it. Mirabell’s eyes widened as she read the address and gasped. Mirabell’s face paled as the blood drained from it, and she suddenly felt rather light-headed.

  “He’s here...” she whispered, her voice trembling. “He’s here in Bath.”

  5

  The park was lovely the following late afternoon as Lady Mirabell and the duke strolled along the stone footpaths which led through the lush green park. They were followed closely by Ms. Nora chaperoning Mirabell. The sky had started to change color from a bright blue to a warm orange, indicating the impending sunset, bathing them in a warm orange glow.

  Although the duke had been his usual talkative self, Mirabell feared that she had too many things on her mind. The marriage arrangement, Lord Dunkirk residing here in Bath, and the constant fear that she would suddenly see him appear. Lady Mirabell feared that she would not be able to contain herself and embarrass not only herself, but the duke, Lord Dunkirk as well as Ms. Nora, creating an endless stream of gossip and possibly damaging her perfect reputation, as well as everyone else’s. Most of all, she feared that Fredrick would see her with the duke and assume that she is either married or betrothed to His Grace, which apparently she was without even being aware of it.

  The duke clearly noticed her distracted nature and turned to her.

  “Is everything all right, my lady?” the duke asked.

  Mirabell turned towards him at the mention of her name and her brow furrowed questioningly. “Your Grace?”

  “Is everything all right?” the duke repeated, and she glanced at him even more perplexed. “I cannot help but notice you seem rather distracted this afternoon, and I do not pretend to know why.”

  “I do apologize. There is merely something on my mind of late, and it has indeed occupied my mind. I did not mean to be distracted while in your company,” Lady Mirabell said apologetically.

  “And what may I ask has been so distracting?” the duke asked while looking at her and walking. He tripped a little on a cobblestone and tried to act nonchalant as if it did not happen.

  Lady Mirabell bit her bottom lip as she tried not to smile or act as though she saw his slight trip. It was something that he had done several times during their walks. She inhaled sharply through her teeth, and
did not give it a second thought as more important things were on her mind.

  She desperately pondered how to answer the duke’s question without revealing to him that she had been thinking of another man while in his company. Not only would it be highly offensive towards the duke, but it would also be incredibly inappropriate. Lady Mirabell did not wish to upset the duke in any way and merely answered as vaguely as she possibly could. “I learned that my very good childhood friend’s father had passed away recently.”

  “That is terrible. Have you made contact with her?” the duke asked.

  Mirabell’s brow furrowed as she glanced at the duke and pondered her next move. She realized that he was under the impression that she spoke of a female friend.

  “Not as yet, but I would very much like to visit,” Lady Mirabell answered, not attempting to correct the duke. She also wondered if he had intentionally assumed it was a female friend to determine if it was, in fact, not a female friend.

  “Is he so clever?” she pondered.

  Lady Mirabell was not comfortable with not speaking the truth, but she did not wish for the duke to become jealous or distrusting of her, which was rather ironic, as Mirabell had lied to him moments ago.

  Lady Mirabell felt oddly out of place while in the company of the duke for the further duration of their stroll, and as she and Ms. Nora rode home in their coach, Ms. Nora glanced at her with a strange expression on her face.

  “Ms. Nora, if you would refrain from glancing at me in such a manner, I would appreciate it,” Lady Mirabell muttered.

  “And what manner might that be, my lady?” Ms. Nora asked.

 

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