The Duke's Defiant Debutante Page 15

  I am sorry to hear that your friend has married such a man, but I beg you to consider the wisdom of continuing a friendship with a woman who has displayed such poor judgement.

  The final straw for me came when I received word that Reginald had beaten a servant half to death and bribed his way out of punishment. The thought of his temper being inflicted on my tenants and servants at Redhaven Castle was too much to bear. I departed immediately for London with the aim of finding myself a bride and producing an heir.

  To my good fortune, the woman I settled upon was you. But more of that later. In recompense for his interference in our happiness, I have challenged Reginald to a duel. Given my history, you may think this reckless, and perhaps you would be right. But I cannot allow his numerous insults to me to go unaddressed.

  Now I find I cannot write any more without addressing the most grievous of the sins of which I am accused. That I wilfully and deliberately destroyed the happiness of a beloved sister!

  You did not have the pleasure of knowing Addy. Time and fate have robbed me of the power to make an introduction. You must simply take my word for it that Addy was everything I am not. She was the sweetest, cleverest, gentlest girl in England. She had a kind word for everybody and, if she had a fault, it was that she never thought ill of those who deserved it. Hers was a trusting nature.

  Lord Oliver Barnet saw her as I did, I have no doubt. He saw a handsome, clever girl, with a heart too open and too full of love.

  He took full advantage of the opportunity my loving sister presented him.

  You will forgive me for not entering into the details. I will simply say that one summer, ten years ago, Addy came to me to confess that her lover had left her abruptly, with no hope of reconciliation, on hearing the news that she was with child.

  You may think that I called him out immediately. I believe I would have been justified in doing so. But I gave him a chance. I approached Lord Oliver and demanded that he make an honest woman of my sister.

  I will never forget the way he laughed.

  The duel came about as you can imagine. We both shot; his bullet missed; mine struck home.

  My only regret is that I left him alive to cause further pain to anyone. But you, Angelica, even in my wildest imaginings I did not predict that he would strike at you!

  I concealed Addy in a pauper's house in London. As her condition became more apparent, it was impossible for her to remain in society. Our actions were necessarily shrouded in mystery.

  She died giving birth to her son, two months too early. The child did not survive.

  They are buried together in a quiet graveyard in central London, and the true circumstances of her death were never made known to anyone.

  I do not know from where precisely the rumours sprung that I had killed her. I might blame Lord Oliver, or any of his friends. Perhaps it is simply the natural way of a gossiping ton to fabricate these cruel lies. I have no proof of anything.

  I did not help my own reputation after Addy's death. The world held no meaning for me anymore. I retreated to Redhaven Castle, the place where we had grown up, and the place where I fully intended to die of grief.

  But I did not die, though in time my bereaved parents did. I became Duke of Redhaven, and the responsibility for the wellbeing of the people of the dukedom fell to me.

  There you have it: my whole history is laid before you. In reading over what I have written, I cannot find that I acted wrongly at any point. Only in concealing the facts from you did I err.

  Which brings me, Angelica, to an explanation of that most unfortunate letter I happened to write to Lathkill shortly after meeting you for the first time.

  When I proposed to you, I cannot admit to having a single thought for your own feelings. I thought only of myself and my duty to the people of Redhaven. It was, at the time, my firm intention to use you for the purposes of getting an heir and then promptly return you to your family.

  I do not blame you for running, Angelica, when you read of my motives. They were true, then.

  They could not be further from my feelings now.

  These past weeks in your company have wrought a material change on my very character the like of which I could never have predicted. Under your tutelage I have learned to feel again, Angelica, to think once more of a happy life I thought forever out of my reach.

  You are too good to toy with me and I am too uncultured to dress the thing up in fine language. The fact is that I have fallen in love with you.

  I understand if you are unable to return my feelings. I have never presented myself as the ideal husband. I ask only that you give me the chance to prove myself to you and, in loving you with all the fullness of my heart, to someday kindle the same feelings in your own.

  Yours in hope,

  Edward

  He folded the letter and sealed it before he could second guess himself.

  At least the pain in his chest which memories of Adelaide caused him had finally ceased. He felt lightheaded, free, almost peaceful.

  He also felt such a dreadful anxiety that it embarrassed him to admit it even to himself. He had no idea how Angelica would receive his declaration of love. He hoped – no, he truly believed – that she wanted it, that she might even return it – but he was a novice in matters of the heart. It was all too possible that his own desires had deluded him.

  So it was that Edward passed a sleepless night and, in the morning, entered the breakfast room only to thrust the letter into the hands of the astonished Angelica. Once the deed was done he left immediately to ride his horse across the Loxwell estate at a wind-whipped gallop.

  He told himself that he was simply giving Angelica space and time to process the contents of his letter. In reality, he felt as though an executioner's axe was poised in the air above the doorway to Loxwell House. To return would be to walk the final steps to the block.

  But the sun crept upwards across the sky, and when it reached its zenith, Edward found himself atop a tired horse and unable to wait any longer. He clicked his tongue to the animal and guided it back towards the house.

  He was glad the Duke of Loxwell did not keep his home too formal, for Edward would have been very out of place in his mud-spattered riding boots and his half-undone shirt otherwise. He took himself quickly up to his rooms to wash and change before the ladies caught sight of him.

  Angelica was waiting for him at his writing desk and ran to him the moment he stepped inside.

  "Hold off!" he warned her. "I'm half-drenched with mud, as you see!"

  "Do you think I care about that?" she demanded. To Edward's astonishment, she rose up on her tiptoes and planted a sweet, gentle kiss on his lips.

  "I have read your letter," she said, actually blushing.

  He took her hand, not caring that his soiled riding gloves would mark the perfect white cotton. "Am I to take it that...that I have some hope?"

  "Did you truly doubt it?"

  "No," he admitted, peeling the glove back from her hand and bringing her bare skin to his lips. Angelica's fingers trembled at his touch, but she snatched her hand away. "I am left with no option other than to beg your forgiveness," she said. "I should have trusted in you. I should have had faith in my own heart. I was simply so afraid, Edward, so terribly afraid that I would be trapped in a marriage with love on only one side!"

  He looked at her questioningly, not daring to voice his hopes.

  "It is true, and a wonder you did not see it earlier! I have never been able to dissemble. My feelings are worn on my sleeve." Angelica smiled. "It must have been plain to everyone that I love you – everyone but you, to whom it mattered most!"

  "But I know now," said Edward, and took her in his arms with rough eagerness, but kissed her as tenderly as he knew how. "I know now!"

  As he kissed her, he felt his heartbeat calm and steady. It had not beaten quietly since Angelica had first left London.

  "You must promise me one thing," she said, eventually pulling away and pressing a finger to his
yearning lips. "I cannot endure the thought of you fighting another duel. You must learn to forgive, my darling, as best as you can. Your cousin has not succeeded in keeping us apart. For my sake, withdraw your challenge. Do not risk my happiness by fighting him."

  "I can no longer find it within me to be angry with any man," said Edward, gazing into her grey-green eyes. "I am the happiest, most peaceful man alive, and I intend to remain so for all my days."

  "Then let us be married without delay," said Angelica. "We have waited long enough!"

  He answered her with another kiss, lingering and passionate, and this time, she did not push him away.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The day of Angelica's wedding dawned bright and clear. An almost cloudless sky; a nearly perfect morning.

  The only thing that left something to be desired was Angelica's appearance in her wedding gown.

  "I should have chosen white," she sighed, turning this way and that to study her own reflection.

  "Nonsense," Lily assured her. "You hate white. Besides, it's too pale for you. This suits you much better."

  "You're certain?" Angelica didn't think that she looked half so fine, in her pink satin overlaid with white lace, as Lily did in her elegant pale blue dress. The only redeeming quality was the way Edward's emerald ring glowed on her finger.

  "It's your hair, Miss," said Kitty, coaxing Angelica away from the mirror. "When your hair is done you'll feel like a princess. See how lovely these roses are?"

  "What if Edward doesn't like roses?" asked Angelica, batting her away. Lily and Kitty exchanged a wry look that did not escape her notice.

  "Edward is waiting at the church to marry you," said Lily, kneeling down beside Angelica's chair. "Not your dress. Not your flowers. Not your hair."

  "I understand, Miss," said Kitty, expertly weaving the roses into Angelica's blonde curls. "You want everything to be perfect."

  Angelica squeezed her eyes tight and let Lily stroke her hand. "Everything will be perfect," she said, as much to herself as anyone else. "Edward loves me, and I love him."

  A sigh from Lily set Angelica's eyes wide open again.

  "It's so beautiful," she said, half-apologetically. "It's exactly what I hoped for you... and to think you came so close to never having it! And to know that it was I who encouraged you to run away! Oh, Angelica. My heart is too full."

  "Better full than frail," Angelica smiled, kissing her cheek. For a moment, a dissatisfied frown crossed Lily's perfect forehead, and Angelica was sorry she'd said anything. Then, Lily threw back her head and laughed.

  "A few more weddings, and I'll be well again! You must hurry up and have some children, Angelica. I have a broken heart that needs healing, you know."

  "Children!" Angelica repeated in a daze. "Goodness!"

  "Try not to waggle your head so, Miss!" Kitty protested.

  "But, Kitty! Children! Edward's children!"

  Angelica did not quite know whether the thought petrified or enthralled her. Edward wanted an heir, she knew, but to think that their wedding night was soon approaching...

  "You look as though you could do with a nip of Papa's brandy," Lily teased her.

  "I feel the way you look after dancing a jig!"

  Lily shook her head, sending her curls merrily bobbing. "I mean to dance at your wedding party, Angelica, and there's nothing you or Mama can do to stop me! I've an eye on the Earl of Lathkill for a dance partner."

  "As long as he doesn't tire you out," Angelica warned her. Lily gave a mischievous wink.

  "If he does not, what on earth would be the point?"

  "Girls!" Mrs Stirling would never do anything as inelegant as bursting into a room, but she managed to make her gliding entrance with an air of extreme urgency. "Are you almost ready? Honestly, Angelica, your hair still not done! You'll be the death of me!"

  "Peace, Mama," said Angelica, blowing her a kiss. "You won't have to fuss over me much longer."

  Mrs Stirling let out a sob and buried her face in a handkerchief. Lily went at once to comfort her. "Don't worry, Mama! We shall visit them at Redhaven Castle as often as we like. The Duke has promised."

  "My sweet little girl!" sobbed Mrs Stirling. "A Duchess! Oh, it's too much! It's too much for me!"

  Kitty, looking quite terrified by her mistress's display of emotion, hastened to provide a stack of fresh handkerchiefs from the chest of drawers.

  "Off you go, now, Mama," said Lily, steering her towards the door. "You and Papa must not arrive at the church behind the bride, after all."

  Mr and Mrs Stirling were taking the curricle through the London streets together, while Angelica rode behind with Lily in the closed barouche. Lily's health, while ever more robust, was not quite strong enough to risk a bouncing, windy journey.

  Once her mother had been sent on her way, Angelica's hair was finished with a speed that was a testament to Kitty's skill. The three girls hopped into the carriage and settled in for a quick, merry ride. Lily and Kitty, it seemed, were not prepared to let Angelica forget the prospect of children and the wedding night for the entire journey.

  Angelica leaned her head against the side of the carriage and let their merriment wash over her. Her thoughts had run ahead of her, to the church door. To the long walk up the aisle, past her family and friends. To the man, tall, handsome, and brooding, waiting for her at the altar.

  Would Edward muster up a smile as he saw her walking towards him? Angelica hid a grin of her own. No, he would be serious – serious enough that anyone who did not know him as she did would think he were not pleased to be married.

  He was her opposite in that sense; the other half of her character. Her emotions were worn plainly on her face, and his were hidden deep inside. But his love for her was no less fervent for all that. Rather, she felt she could trust him more completely, because he had let her and only her see the man beyond the myth of the murderous Duke.

  "Help! Help! For pity's sake, help me!"

  The carriage jerked to a halt. Angelica stuck her head out of the window, careful not to muss her hair. "What is it?"

  "There's a man hurt, Miss," said the driver. "Shall I drive on?"

  "You must certainly not! Get down and help him!" Angelica opened the carriage door, ready to see what she could do for the poor fellow.

  She saw a man lying in the road, blocking the carriage's path.

  She saw a shock of dark hair that looked oddly familiar.

  She saw Reginald Thorne leap up, smash the driver about the head with a cosh, and scramble onto the driver's seat.

  For a moment, Angelica was ready to leap from the carriage, but as it began to move off at a tremendous pace the back of her dress was seized in Kitty's strong fist and she was jerked back inside.

  "Have a care, Miss!" Kitty's face was white and frightened. "You'll be dashed to pieces under the wheels."

  "What's going on?" asked Lily. The carriage was bouncing off every cobblestone, jolting her about horribly. "What happened out there?"

  "It is my future cousin," snapped Angelica, "and we will soon find out what he is about, for I'm about to climb around to the driver's seat and give him a piece of my mind!"

  She flung the door open again. The cobblestones below her were going past so fast they almost blurred. Well, that did not matter. She did not intend to fall upon them.

  "Angelica, no!" Lily screamed. "You'll be hurt!"

  "He's the one who'll be hurt!" Angelica countered, extending a foot cautiously down to the step. If she could cling to the door and pull herself around, she ought to be able to reach the driver's seat without tearing her dress too much. She had done it once or twice as a child, before her father banned her from the sport.

  And then... Well, Angelica was not entirely sure what she would do then. She only knew that the nefarious, kidnapping Reginald Thorne would be on the receiving end of a sharp slap!

  "Miss Angelica!"

  It was Kitty's voice that brought her back to her senses, and the sound that accomp
anied it. A sound Angelica knew too well – the sound that still haunted her nightmares.

  The painful wheeze of her sister trying to catch her breath.

  "Don't," Lily whispered, reaching out for Angelica even as her face turned white with strain. "Don't..."

  Angelica heaved the carriage door shut and sat back down, taking Lily in her arms. "Be calm," she said, "be calm, I'm sure it will all be fine, it's nothing but a prank – a silly wedding prank by the Thorne family. We shall laugh about it this afternoon at my wedding breakfast. We shall laugh, do you hear?"

  Lily said nothing. One hand was pressed to her chest, as though she could push the tightness from it. Her eyes were closed as she fought to concentrate on breathing.

  "Kitty," said Angelica, never lifting her eyes from Lily, "open the window and call for help. Make as much noise as you can."

  "It's Sunday morning, Miss," said Kitty, doing as she asked. "Who'll be out and about at this time?"

  "We can only hope that someone hears us."

  A wave of hatred pulsed out from Angelica's chest towards the man now driving the carriage to who-knew-where. If this was a prank, it was in poor taste.

  If it was something else...

  Then she would stay quiet, gather her strength, and be ready to meet Reginald Thorne at the other end of their journey.

  He was no match for her, Angelica vowed, even as she tried to rub some colour back into Lily's cheeks. If he thought he had kidnapped himself a scared and docile young debutante, he could certainly think again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Edward was barely familiar with Angelica's local church. Tradition dictated that they should marry in the bride's parish, and he had seen no need to break with it. They were in no rush, after all. At least, no rush save for the tender feelings which had increased with each passing moment, until he had found himself wishing away the days leading up to this most important one.

  The Earl of Lathkill stood at his side, and actually had the nerve to be merry. Edward himself was too tightly-wound to sit still. He paced up and down across the front of the altar, ignoring the scent of flowers which filled the air from the numerous pink and white bouquets lining the aisle, and greeted his guests with nothing more than a nod.