A Regency Lord's Command: The Disappearing Duchess / The Mysterious Lord Marlowe

‘You owe me no thanks, sir. Your duchess visited my sister and I brought her to you. She was a little anxious, but I assured her you would not scold her too much. I believe she has something important to tell you.’

‘Of course I shall not be unkind,’ Justin said and looked at Lucinda. ‘Come inside, my love. You look tired and pale. I would hear what you have to say. Lanchester, you have my thanks. I shall speak to you later.’

‘When it suits you,’ Andrew replied with a slight smile. ‘My heartfelt thanks for your safe return, Duchess. Your friends are glad of it. Please call on Jane whenever you wish.’

‘You are very kind, sir.’

Lucinda could not look at him or her husband. She walked towards the house, Justin at her side. Several servants had gathered in the hall and were looking at her curiously. The housekeeper bobbed a curtsy and asked if she could do anything.

‘You may bring some tea when we ring,’ Justin said. ‘My wife has had a long journey and she is tired. We shall have nuncheon in an hour.’

Lucinda allowed him to make the arrangements. She was thirsty and hungry, and she knew that someone she trusted was caring for her daughter. Angela would be safe until she could return to her.

‘Mama will be gone for a while,’ she’d told Angela and kissed her before she left. ‘I have to find somewhere nice for us to live, but then I shall come and fetch you.’

‘You won’t leave me?’ Angela had clung to her. ‘You won’t let them take me back?’

‘Never,’ Lucinda vowed and held her tight. ‘Mama loves you and she wants to look after you, but she cannot be with you all the time. She has to work and earn money to buy our food.’

Inside the small parlour at the back of the house, Justin shut the door firmly and then turned to look at her. His hands worked at his sides and she thought that she had never seen him display such emotion. Always when he courted her he had been the polite gentleman, teasing, flirting gently, courteous and considerate. If he had a temper, she’d not seen or felt it; even his kiss when she’d at last accepted his offer had been sweet, but passionless—which was perhaps why she had dared to say yes. Avonlea had seemed kind, but capable of expressing only warm affection; this stranger with his tight mouth and tortured eyes was someone she did not recognise.

‘What was so terrible that you could not tell me, Lucinda? I took a vow to become your husband. Whatever trouble you were in I would have helped you.’

‘Yes, I know,’ she said and gave him a little smile. ‘Afterwards, I wished I’d had the courage to tell you. I panicked, Justin. Please let me explain if I may. When I returned to my rooms after the church I discovered a letter. It was a blackmail letter and the sender demanded ten thousand pounds. He—or perhaps she—threatened to expose my secret and shame your good name. I ran away rather than allow it to happen. My first thought was for you—because I had wronged you.’

‘A blackmail letter here in your room?’ Justin looked shocked. ‘I have considered all manner of reasons why you should leave, but I must admit that was not high on my list. May I enquire as to the reason for the blackmail?’

Lucinda drew a shuddering breath. ‘I fear you will be angry and hate me.’

‘I could never hate you.’

He had not denied that he might be angry, but she must find the courage to continue. Her words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other.

‘It…happened one Christmas Eve. I was home from school and my father had friends staying. I was asleep when Father’s friend fell on me and, though I woke instantly, I could not fight him off. He had been drinking and the stench of his breath sickened me. I tried to scream, but he covered my mouth with his hand. Beneath his weight I was helpless. He was my father’s best friend, but he…he raped me and then told me that he would ruin Papa if I told anyone what he’d done.’

‘Raped you? My God!’ Justin looked as if someone had punched him hard. He recoiled and seemed stunned, turning away from her and then sitting down heavily in one of the comfortable wing chairs placed in pairs about the salon. ‘Forgive me, this is a shock. It must have been a terrible experience for you, Lucinda.’

Lucinda went to him and knelt on the floor by his side. ‘I think even that was not the worst of it, Justin. I was distressed, but could tell no one—and then, at Easter, my mother discovered that I was with child.’

Justin looked down into her face, concern in his eyes. The thought of her suffering wrenched at his heart. She was so innocent and sweet—how could any man treat her so vilely? Anger raged through him, but for the monster that had violated her. He did not doubt her word for an instant. He reached down and touched her cheek as she gazed earnestly up at him.

‘Your father covered the scandal, of course. Most fathers would do the same. What happened next?’

‘I was sent to live with Grandmama. She was very unkind to me and caned my hands whenever it pleased her. When my child was born I was told it had died…but still my father would not allow me to go home or to enter society. Only after his death was I allowed the visit to Harrogate with my aunt.’

‘Was that why you kept your distance from me at first?’

‘My father told me I was dirty, a thing of shame, and that no decent man would want me. Both he and my mother said I should never marry. I defied her to wed you—and I meant to tell you the truth that night and beg you to forgive me, but then the note arrived and—’

‘You were frightened and ran away.’

Justin stood up. He reached down, drawing her to her feet so that they looked into each other’s eyes.

‘Do you have the letter?’

Lucinda hesitated. She hated to lie to him, but if she told him the whole truth he would want to know if she had found her daughter and he would force her to give her up, because to do anything else would cause a scandal.

‘No…I am sorry, Justin. I destroyed it. I should never have married you. I know you must hate me now. I shall go away and you may have the marriage annulled. All I ask is a small sum of money so that I may live quietly until I can find some respectable work.’

She would not have asked so much if it were not for her child. Until she could find a home of her own and a nursemaid to live in, Lucinda must pay for lodgings and the care of her daughter. Surely he would allow her something?

For a moment he studied her in silence, then, ‘No, I shall not have the marriage annulled,’ Justin said, his tone suddenly harsh and cold. The sound of it sent shivers down her spine and she looked at him, startled by his change of mood. ‘I’ve had enough of gossip and of being laughed at behind my back, Lucinda. You are my wife and you will accept your duties as a wife.’

‘Justin…’ She faltered, her throat tight with emotion. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she held them back. ‘I know how angry you must feel…’

‘Do you, my dear?’ His bitter tone flayed her like a whiplash. ‘Had you trusted me enough to confide in me from the start, none of this need have happened.’

‘Forgive me. I was so anxious.’ Her voice was low, scarcely more than a whisper. ‘I did not think how it would look. Besides, if you had told everyone I had gone to my sick mother, it would not have seemed so bad.’

‘Had I found your letter at the start, I might have done so.’ He turned from her abruptly, walking to the window to gaze out. ‘If you cared for me you might have trusted me, Lucinda. I would have given you a fair hearing. Do you not think it was your duty to tell me before you accepted my proposal?’

‘Yes. I think now that I should have told you. I—I was afraid you would not wish to marry me if you knew that I had such a terrible secret.’

Justin turned to look at her, his face proud, eyebrows raised. ‘You wished to be the Duchess of Avonlea, I suppose?’

‘No…’ Lucinda hesitated, then, in a voice caught with tears, ‘I loved you, Justin. I loved you from the start. I suppose I hoped that if we were married you might forgive me.’

‘You thought I would accept you rather than face the scandal of divorce?’ His top lip curled scornfully. ‘Well, you were right in that, my dear. I have no intention of either annulling the marriage or divorcing you. I hope in time that we may begin again, have a sensible arrangement. I need heirs after all and you are my wife. I dare say we may brush over the scandal now that you have returned. I shall say that you were called to the bedside of a relative and your letter was misplaced—which is in part the truth.’

‘Justin…’ She took a step towards him, her hand outstretched. It fell to her side as she saw the anger in his handsome face. ‘Will you not believe that I care for you? Will you not try to forgive me?’

‘I shall certainly endeavour to forgive you,’ he said, but his eyes were cold, his mouth thinned with anger. ‘But you will forgive me if I do not fall at your feet and tell you that everything is as it was. You will remain my wife and I hope in time we may find a way to be comfortable together—but as for the feelings…the affection I bore you, for the moment I must be honest and tell you that I feel nothing but disappointment.’

‘Please…’ She gave a cry of distress. ‘I beg you not to hate me, Justin. I know that I have hurt you, but I was in some distress myself.’

‘I fail to understand why.’ His eyes held neither compassion nor warmth. ‘You had the advantage of me for you knew your situation. Why the letter should occasion such shock I do not know—unless you meant to conceal the truth from me forever?’

How could she explain? Justin might have understood had she been able to put her feelings into words—but the shock, the numbness, incredulity and fear she’d felt on learning of her child’s existence were too difficult to express.

‘I was asked to pay ten thousand pounds for the writer’s silence.’

‘Had you given the letter to me, I should either have paid or discovered the man’s identity and threatened him with imprisonment.’

‘You would still have hated me.’

‘I do not hate you,’ Justin said, a flicker of regret in his eyes. ‘I feel hurt, betrayed by your lack of trust, Lucinda. Had you confided in me at the beginning, I think I might have learned to accept the fact that you were raped. You were not to blame for that—or for bearing a child—but your deceit, your thoughtlessness in running away and your lack of faith in me, have given me some disquiet. I must say honestly that you are not the woman I thought you.’

His quiet words, his dignity and the hurt in his eyes struck into her heart. She was overcome with guilt, realising just how deeply her thoughtless behaviour had hurt him. Justin was angry with her now. Lucinda was not sure why she had not told him the whole truth. It would have been better to have the whole thing out, but she had hesitated and now it was too late. He would undoubtedly either return the child to the woman who had so mistreated her or have her adopted by a worthy couple.

No, she would not give her daughter up! Although it was only two weeks since she’d rescued her, Lucinda knew that she loved her too much to think of letting her be adopted, even by a kind and gentle woman.

She loved Justin, too, but he no longer cared for her. A part of her wanted to walk away, to tell him that she would not continue with a loveless marriage, but her lips were frozen and she could not speak.

‘You should go to your room and change. That gown is hardly suitable for my duchess,’ Justin said. ‘I am relieved that you are alive and unharmed, Lucinda. It will take a little time for me to come to terms with your revelation, but I hope in time that we may find a kind of contentment together.’

‘Yes, Justin. I am sorry to have caused you so much distress.’

‘I shall tell them to serve luncheon in an hour. Please do not keep us waiting.’

‘I shall not,’ Lucinda replied. Her pride was reasserting itself and with it a kind of anger. He was showing dignity and dealing with the situation in a civilised way, but she would almost rather he’d raged at her. ‘I am truly sorry for hurting you.’

He made no reply, merely inclining his head as she made him a slight curtsy and then left the room.

Lucinda knew that the servants must be agog to know where she’d been, but she carried herself with pride and dignity as she walked up to her own apartments. Alice was there and appeared to be busy tidying the place as she entered. She curtsied, looking slightly flustered.

‘Forgive me, my lady. Your room—his Grace searched it and then forbade me to touch it. I have been trying to make it respectable, but some of your things will need washing and ironing for they lay on the floor for a few days.’

‘You may help me change into a fresh gown, if there are any decent enough to wear?’

‘Yes, my lady. There is a morning gown here that is not creased.’

‘Take your time with the others,’ Lucinda said. ‘I shall not scold you if things are not just as they should be; it is not your fault.’

‘I fear the duke lost his temper, my lady.’

‘Yes, I fear he did and that was my fault. Was he very angry with you, Alice?’

‘For a time,’ the girl admitted. ‘I did not mind so very much, my lady. I am glad to see you returned.’

‘If I were to ask you to help me—to keep my request private—would you do so?’

Alice did not hesitate as she said, ‘Yes, my lady. I would do anything for you.’

‘I am not certain yet,’ Lucinda said and smiled at her. ‘Do not look so anxious, Alice. It is nothing very terrible—but I might need you to take a message for me later.’

‘Yes, my lady. You can trust me. I swear it on my life.’

Lucinda hid a smile. Her maid probably thought she had a lover. If she decided to trust her, she would soon learn the truth, but for the moment she must be cautious.

Lucinda was determined not to give her daughter up. She thought that rather than accept that Angela should be adopted, she would leave Justin and find a way to live independently. However, what little money she had was almost gone and she was not certain how she could earn her living.

No respectable lady would take her either as a governess or as a companion. Even if she did find work in a respectable household, the discovery that she had an illegitimate daughter would lead to instant dismissal without a reference. All that left was work as a seamstress or hard manual labour in a mill or on the land; even work as a servant would be denied her in most respectable houses.

Justin did not wish for more scandal and for that reason he had decided they would stay together and try to find a way to live comfortably. She supposed that when his anger or disappointment had eased a little, he might still find her attractive.

The thought of what she had done was almost unbearable. Justin had looked at her with such admiration and gentle warmth when he courted her, showing such patience and kindness to a shy young woman—and now his eyes were cold and unforgiving. She did not know how to bear his coldness, but the thought of never seeing him again was equally as painful.

She held back the foolish tears. What had she expected? She ought to have known that her husband would not accept her wayward behaviour as if it meant nothing. He’d believed her modest and innocent and must think her a cheat for having hidden her shameful past.

At least she had a roof over her head and the generous allowance Avonlea had given her in the marriage contract would be hers to use as she wished. She could use some of it to pay for Angela to be properly cared for nearby. It was not what she wanted, but what was her alternative? She knew she would find it difficult, if not impossible, to bring up her daughter in the way she wished alone. Perhaps it was best this way—and yet at the back of her mind she feared Justin’s disgust and anger when he discovered her deceit.

She had hurt her husband too much already and she did love him deeply, whatever he might believe. If she left him again, it would convince him that she had never loved him and he would surely divorce her. Perhaps if she stayed he might learn to forgive her—and if he did, one day, she would tell him the rest of her story. It might make him angry again, but perhaps he would understand that the pain of discovering that her child had been stolen from her had made her forget everything else for a time.

Oh, it was all such a coil! Lucinda wished that she could return to the day Avonlea had asked her to wed him. Had she told him then he might have withdrawn his offer, but he might have accepted the truth and forgiven her—yet even had he done so, he would never have accepted her child.

She had no choice but to keep the child’s existence a secret from him.

Justin went for a long hard ride after luncheon. Lucinda had looked so serene and beautiful when she came down to the dining room. He had felt a rush of desire at seeing her in one of the beautiful gowns he had purchased for her use. She was his wife, the woman he had chosen, and her revelations had left him feeling bruised and bewildered.

She was not the shy innocent girl he had thought her. Justin had believed her reticence in Harrogate had sprung from modesty and a natural desire to know him better. Now he wondered if he had been deceived in her character. Could he believe her story of rape? She had not told him before the wedding that she’d born an illegitimate child, nor had she given him any reason to believe that she was not the pure untouched woman he thought her. For a brief moment he doubted, but then dismissed the thought as unworthy. Lucinda had not been honest with him at the start, but he would not think less of her for what that evil man had done to her. The hurt in her eyes as she told her story was proof of her innocence, though she ought to have told him before they were wed.

Yet she ought never to have been faced with such a dilemma. No young girl should be subjected to such wickedness.

He thought that if he knew the man’s identity he would break the rogue’s neck. Fierce emotions raged through him as he considered taking revenge for the hurt inflicted on a vulnerable girl of sixteen. Justin would thrash the devil to within an inch of his life. Indeed, he would gladly see the man dead.

He wished that she’d kept the blackmail letter. He might have been able to get to the bottom of this business, but, as things stood, it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Who had sent such a letter on their wedding day? How had that person discovered the secret that Lucinda’s father had so carefully hushed up?

Of course these things were never a complete secret. Someone knew the child had been born. There must surely have been a doctor or a midwife at the birth—or perhaps a servant in Lucinda’s grandmother’s house. It would be there he should begin his search if he intended to make enquiries.

Did he wish to discover more? Justin frowned. It was after all his wife’s secret, but if she were being blackmailed, he had a duty to protect her—and not just for the sake of his good name. Even if she paid the fellow—or woman—to keep quiet, they would come back for more. It was the nature of such creatures.

There was only one way to deal with blackmail and that was to meet threat with threat. He would make whomever had done this thing shiver in their boots and, if they continued with their evil purpose, he would see them punished.

The agents who had searched for Lucinda were discreet. He was certain he could trust them to discover the whereabouts of Lucinda’s grandmother—or, if she were no longer living, her servants. No need to disclose his wife’s secret. He would question the servants and then, if they answered openly, any doctor or midwife who had presided over the birth of Lucinda’s child.

She had told him the child had died—but was that certain? Justin frowned as he thought about the probable scenario. Mr Seymour would not have permitted his daughter to keep the child. It was possible that he might have ordered that she be told the babe was dead while in truth he’d had it adopted.

The net widened, for anyone involved in the handling of that secret adoption might have decided to use blackmail when they heard of Lucinda’s wedding plans. It was clear that it was her marriage to a wealthy man that had brought the toad crawling out from under its stone. Someone had seen an opportunity because she was to be the wife of an important man.

Justin felt angry that his wife had been subjected to such a foul blackmail on her wedding day. It had been meant to be a joyous occasion and had ended in distress for them both.

He felt a pang of regret when he recalled his own harshness towards her. He had felt such jealousy, such disappointment and pain when he learned that she was not the shy virgin he’d thought her that he’d lashed out. He’d promised he would not be unkind to her and he’d broken his word. He was uncertain why he had acted in such an uncharacteristic manner. At the start he had believed he could accept what she’d told him; after all, it had happened before they met—but then emotions he had not recognised welled up in him and his anger erupted. Why? Yes, she had deceived him, but he felt it was more her uncertainty that made her hold back rather than deliberate malice. At one time he’d briefly considered marrying a widow and the loss of the lady’s maidenhead to her first husband had not disturbed him one whit—why then should he feel such rage because Lucinda was not a virgin?

Why should he be jealous? It had not been meant to be a love match. He’d chosen her because she did not throw herself at him every time he so much as looked at her, as almost every other lady he’d met did constantly. It was her smile, her quiet charm and her sweetness that had made him notice her. She had not changed. It was Justin who felt differently, though at this moment he could not explain the conflicting emotions that raged within him or their cause.

Justin knew that he was in the wrong, but for the moment he could not quite forgive her for not confiding in him sooner. The look in her eyes had wrenched at his heart. She’d seemed to beg for something—something he had not been able to give. His own lack disturbed him, adding to his feeling of rage and he’d lashed out without thinking. In time his hurt would ease and he hoped that they might still have enough respect for each other to make a go of their marriage, but for the moment he needed to be alone.

He would tell Lucinda that evening. There was some business in London that needed his attention. It meant that he would be away for perhaps ten days. When he returned he hoped that he would have come to terms with his disappointment and they might begin again. It must be better for both of them to go on with the marriage than suffer a painful divorce. He would recover from the scandal, but she would be ruined. He could not do that to her. It would be cruel and unfair.

Relieved to have settled the matter in his mind, he returned home. The servants must not suspect anything, for there had been enough scandal. He would take tea with Lucinda in the small salon just as if nothing had ever come between them. If he suspected that he had not been quite truthful with himself in his motives for his decision, he was not yet ready to face the possibility that he might care more deeply for his lovely wife than he’d thought possible.

Romantic love was a myth. To give one’s heart without reserve was to invite pain. Affection was sufficient and once he had recovered from this absurd attack of jealous rage, he would resort to being the considerate husband he’d always intended to be.

That night, Lucinda sat in front of her dressing mirror brushing her hair when Justin knocked and asked if he might enter. She gave permission and he came in, looking at her oddly as she stood and turned to face him. Something in his expression spoke of hunger and a need to take her in his arms and for a moment she hoped that he intended to make up their quarrel, but his next words chilled her.

‘Forgive me, I did not intend to disturb you, Lucinda. I said nothing downstairs for I would not have the servants hear me. I must go to London tomorrow on business. You will give me your word to remain here and do nothing to cause more scandal.’