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

‘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.