Page 27 of The Duke of Scandal

“Oh, Aunt Olivia, you must know. Lucius has asked Edward to give consent for the two of us to marry. And has been refused,” Rebecca said.

“Well, then. That is that, isn’t it? You seem a very nice young man, but the Duke has spoken. Do not let us detain you,” Olivia replied.

“I will not be gone for long, my lady,” Lucius laughed. “Worthingham’s cannot be diverted so easily.”

“Oh my. Oh my. This really cannot be happening. Such times we live in,” Olivia fretted.

“My love. I must go. I do not want to give your brother any ammunition against me. I will comply with his wishes…for now.”

“But what if he remains resolved when you return. Or simply refuses to see you?”

Rebecca looked up at him beseechingly and Lucius’ heart melted.

I must stay strong for both of us. It does not help us if I break down. Rebecca needs my strength more than ever. But, I also need hers.

“Do not despair, my love,” Lucius said, taking her chin gently in his hand.

He lowered his head to her and kissed her.

“We will be together. I swear it.”

“Children, children. Please. This is most unseemly. Oh dear,” Olivia protested as the kiss stretched.

Lucius tore himself from Rebecca’s arms. It felt as though he were removing his own skin. Not giving himself time to think, he swung into the saddle and guided his horse from its stall. Olivia seemed unduly upset by the proximity of the animal and did not seem to know where to go to avoid it. At one point, she bumped it as it passed, and gave a shriek that made the horse’s ears flick in consternation. It should have raised the entire house. The old lady backed as far from the animal as she could but Rebecca clung to his stirrup, following horse and rider out into the stable yard.

Before he rode away, Lucius bent to take Rebecca’s hand and remove it gently from his boot. He kissed her fingers and then spurred his horse to a gallop out of the yard and along the tree-lined avenue through the park. He did not look back, could not look back. If he saw Rebecca, alone, looking after him, then he was afraid his resolution would desert him. The horse carried him beyond the park of Wrexham Manor and along the road that led toward the town of Southame.

The cottage he rented from a local farmer lay on the other side of the River Thane, crossed by the old Roman bridge that was the reason for Southame’s existence. He slowed the horse as they began to descend the hill from Wrexham, towards the river. The roads here were not well maintained and he did not want to risk his horse’s legs in a pothole or gully.

How in heaven will I persuade that stubborn man? Should I make a gift to him? Or show my competence as an animal doctor? But, if he is determined to destroy my business, to crush me, then how am I to prove myself worthy of Rebecca.

He did not even know if it was possible, or if the gulf of social class was too wide, unbridgeable. Something was scratching at his leg as he rode, something in the top of his boot. Reaching down, expecting to find a stray piece of straw, his fingers came into contact with a folded piece of paper. Frowning, he drew it out of his boot and unfolded it. The paper was pale in the moonlight and the writing on it elegant, if hastily written.

Tilting the paper to catch the moonlight when it appeared between flitting clouds, he tried to read the contents.

“My dear young man. I would ask that you keep this missive secret from any, including Rebecca, until I have had an opportunity to speak to her alone. Calm heads must prevail if you are to be helped. And I fear that you two wayward children do so need my help. Do not despair. There are options open to you that will allow you to be together regardless of what my nephew has to say. I do not desire my niece married against her will any more than you do. If you show this note to any, however, I will deny its existence and you will have lost your only ally within the Bolton family. Take heart. I have a plan. O”

As he read, Lucius allowed his horse to slow to a complete stop. He stared at the paper and the letter which stood in for a signature.

What on earth is she up to? No point disguising her identity when she reveals it so blatantly in calling Rebecca her niece. I thought she was just a mad old bird but now…

Lucius found himself smiling as he carefully folded the note and slipped it into a pocket of his tweed coat. There was hope after all.

CHAPTER 18

Harriet was being forced to endure several hours of her mother, wailing and bemoaning the novelty of the situation in which they had foisted themselves on the hospitality of the Duke of Wrexham. There was much gnashing of teeth and protestations that the Duke must be informed that it was not her intention to impose upon him. It took a great deal of placation from Harriet and from Simon, to calm her.

A healthy measure of brandy went some way to calming her nerves.

“What will become of us, what will become of us. Don’t think I don’t see what is going on under my nose,” she said from a reclining position on the chaise.

“Property being sold. Wings of Sandleigh being closed off. What will be next? Bailiffs? Debtors prison. You have much to answer for, young Simon. Much indeed.”

Harriet was stung by the comment, on Simon’s behalf. It wasn’t true. The rot had set in with her father, consistently spending far more than he was earning. Intentions were no use, it didn’t matter the good he had wanted to do. If the family went bankrupt, all of those good intentions would count for nothing.

“That isn’t fair, mother,” Harriet said from an armchair by the fire.

She felt tired after the ball and the drama that had ensued afterward. Her encounter with the Duke had set her nerves to tingling but the aftermath had left her spent. Now, terrible weariness was stealing over her. Simon sat opposite, looking equally tired, staring into the flames in the fireplace.

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