The Scandal of the Deceived Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 3

  “Alright, let’s beg to differ on that one, Anna.” Amelia pressed her lips together in thought. “I…”

  Anna tittered. “You do like ‘em gorgeous, don’t you ma’am.” She smiled as she ran a comb through her mistress’s hair.

  “I don’t see why not. But what you said has me worrying. Maybe you are right and a gentleman who is not too good-looking might be better suited.”

  “You are so beautiful, ma’am. No man would ever leave you.” She paused until her face lit up even more. “I would give anything to have hair like yours,” said Anna, looking at her mistress in the mirror attached to the dressing table.

  Amelia took a moment to study her reflection. She knew that she was not unattractive, but she had never considered herself beautiful. She had moss-green eyes and high cheekbones. However, what she was most grateful for was her pixie nose. Fortunately, her mother’s side of the family had won out on that one. Her ash-black hair tumbled down from her head in a series of silky tresses.

  She lifted her hand to touch the porcelain colored skin on her face. It felt smooth and was without blemish. As she let her mind wander back to the topic of a dashing man, her lips relaxed, displaying their fullness. Her head was perched on her neck like a rose blossom on a stem.

  “The man that marries you, ma’am, will be the luckiest alive,” said Anna.

  “Thank you, Anna. You are always so kind to me.”

  “You are kind to me.” Anna thought for a moment. “The both of us will find love one day…I know because I dreamt it.”

  “You dreamt it?”

  “Aye,” said Anna in her typical Scottish lilt.

  “What was the dream about?” asked Amelia, her curiosity piqued.

  She always found Anna such a pleasure to be with. In a way, she thought her far more pleasant company than all of the inflated windbags that attended her mother’s invitations. She was so free-spirited and real. What you saw was what you got. Secretly, Amelia wished she could be the same - to break free and get away from the constraints of society. The prince regent does what he wants, she thought, remembering her chat with him earlier that day. Why can’t I?

  “The dream was about us travelling on a long journey. It was by sea, it was.”

  Amelia giggled.

  “Aye. But somehow, we never got to where we were supposed to be going,” said Anna with a deep frown on her forehead.

  “Where did we end up then?”

  “With two dashing men. Yours was more handsome than mine…”

  This made Amelia laugh again.

  “But they were good men. I saw it. I felt it. They made us truly understand what love is, ye ken. Sorry, ma’am, I slip into my native Scottish when I get excited. I meant you know.”

  “It must’ve been quite some dream for you to get so excited,” said Amelia, grinning mischievously.

  After they had laughed for quite some time, Amelia was the first to get serious. “What is love…I mean I know I love my parents (she frowned), I love horses and dogs. But what is it when you feel it for a man?”

  “Ooooh, that’s easy, ma’am.”

  Amelia arched an eyebrow, somehow disbelieving the certainty in her lady’s maid’s assertion.

  “Ye…sorry, you see when you love a man without inhibitions, he is everything and all. You want nothing else but to be around him and smother him with kisses when you get the chance.” Anna shrugged. “You would do anything for this man, no matter what – that’s it, I think.”

  Amelia wasn’t sure. “Sounds a bit like servitude to me. Here, let me try…I think the love felt for a man is when you cannot sleep at night when he is not beside you; your heart aches when he is with you because you cannot control the joy you feel when you see that love you harbor for him returned to you in full just by looking in his eyes. Love is when two people become as one in the realms of the physical and fuse on a higher plane in the kingdom of the spirit and soul.”

  Anna brushed a wayward tear from her cheek. “That was beautiful, ma’am. You certainly have a way with words.” Her torrid emotions soon settled, and an impish grin slid across her mouth. “You wouldn’t mind getting into more detail on the physical side of things, would you?”

  “What…oh…I see.” Amelia blushed. Usually, such intimacy between servant and employer was frowned upon and would result in the servant’s immediate punishment. However, Amelia and Anna were as close as they could get to being friends. They could never be seen in public or in the presence of her parents as equals, but when they were alone, Anna still did her duty, but the banter was always light between them.

  Amelia never really enjoyed the company of her kind all that much. Anna was like a breath of fresh air. In their time together, Amelia had even taught Anna how to read and write. Anna was a formidable student and very clever. If times were different, Amelia always thought.

  “You are as red as a tomato, ma’am,” said Anna, barely containing her mirth.

  In moments, Amelia joined in. They laughed with such free abandon that the tears streamed down their faces.

  “What’s all the ruckus about?” asked Amelia’s mother, swanning into the bedchamber dressed in her long silk nightdress and looking like a wraith.

  “Oh, nothing, Mother. We were just laughing because I dropped one of my rings into my face cream pot and we had trouble fishing it out.”

  “Oh, I see,” said the mother in the most matter-of-fact manner imaginable. “Titbits, out. I need to speak to my daughter alone.”

  “Yes, milady.” Anna scurried out of the room and shut the door.

  “What a filthy accent that girl has. Where is she from – the colonies?” She began to pace up and down the room, making Amelia even angrier because of the interruption.

  “Come on, Mother, out with it. It must be some new bit of juicy gossip if you took the trouble in coming here at this hour.”

  A sneer played on Lady Carlyle’s lips. “Oh, it’s not gossip. What I have is news.”

  Amelia felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She despised it when her mother was in one of her scheming moods. The last time this happened, she had to spend an entire afternoon with the most tedious oaf – chaperoned at a distance of course. But their escort had been so meticulous in the execution of their duties that she had to listen to the bore of a man without interruption. Every time she had turned back, her mother had waved at her and nodded her encouragement.

  “What fact, Mother?”

  “Well, there’s no need to beat around the bush. So, I shall just come out and say it…you are to be presented to the Duke of Brandon at his London residence this Sunday to commence talks about a possible betrothal between you and his son – isn’t that grand?” She paused. “It’s just a shame that darling young man, Airey, cannot be there. He’s been tasked with something important in British America – Canada or something or other. Anyway…”

  Amelia couldn’t believe her ears. So, this is it. I am to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. I knew the two of them had something up their sleeves. They had been scheming the entire carriage trip home. I should have known.

  Her mother spun on her heels. “I just thought you’d like to know the good news,” she said on the way out of her room.

  The tint on Amelia’s face went an even lighter shade. I am trapped. There is nowhere for me to go. Before she could stop them, the tears rolled down her cheeks. Amelia was not one to bare her emotions so brazenly, but this was too much. She asked herself why her parents couldn’t see the true nature of the man they were asking her to marry. It was plain for the world to see.

  “Oh, ma’am…what happened?” asked Anna, entering Amelia’s room like a whirlwind.

  “They, they…” Amelia couldn’t get the words out. Her crying became more intense as Anna took her into her arms and cradled her like a swaddling babe. They just remained still with Amelia on the stool with her nose nestled into Anna’s hair. Anna kneeled before her and pressed her mistress closer as if she was trying to squeeze out
all of the melancholy from her body.

  “Remember what I told you about my dream. You will never marry that man, Amelia,” said Anna at last. She had all of the details because she had been eavesdropping at the door the entire time.

  Amelia looked down and into Anna’s eyes. She was not sure whether she was more surprised by her lady’s maid’s use of her Christian name or the ridiculousness of the notion of a dream coming true and the two of them finding love.

  “It was just a silly dream.”

  “No, ma’am,” said Anna, reverting back to the proper form of address. She helped her mistress to her feet and guided her to the bed. “Dreams are there to tell us the future. All we have to do is believe in them.”

  Chapter 4

  A Long Farewell

  On the Way to Portsmouth, England, November 1813

  Amelia stared out of the carriage window. She felt like a criminal or some person who was condemned to a life of purgatory. She couldn’t believe what was happening to her. She had met the duke, and as her mother had said, his son had not been present. He had been sent to Canada to represent his family’s interests there. And that was where he still was – Thank God.

  The duke was nothing like his arrogant son. In a way, if he were younger, Amelia might have considered becoming his betrothed. However, his son was an entirely different matter altogether. He oozed entitlement. To Amelia, this was one of the most undesirable qualities in a man. She was the daughter of a lesser peer, and consequently, she should be honored to be considered for such an exalted position as the future Duchess of Brandon. But she wasn’t.

  At first, she had still harbored hope. Anna had kept her going with the promise that her dream would come true. Amelia had tried her best to believe her – yet, no matter which way she put her head around the matter, she could not think of a way out of her predicament.

  For a time, she had thought that news would arrive from the British possession across the Atlantic that Airey had found another woman. But no such luck. He never wrote to her like other men would when they were to be married. The duke’s son knew that she was his, so no effort was necessary on his part. Not that Amelia would have been interested. But she still thought that was the way things should be done.

  The past months had gone by so quickly and she still was his betrothed. The deal had been sealed that fateful afternoon at Brandon House in London. There was no turning back. Fate was remorseless in its machinations. All she could do was succumb to it.

  Amelia let her gaze rest on the racing English countryside beyond the carriage window. It was a dull and cloudy day. Angry in its passivity as the greyness attempted to swallow up everything. The leaves had already fallen, leaving their bounty for the earth to devour. The nakedness of the branches somehow emulated the nakedness she felt in her heart and soul.

  The world sort of burst upon her view. It was England, Amelia’s home and the place she loved most in the world. Yet, as the days, weeks and months had gone by, she started to realize that maybe there was another place where she might feel just as much at home. Would it be Canada? It was where her father was sending her, to visit her sister and, of course, to be close to her betrothed. No, it was not possible. No place was like home.

  Suddenly, Amelia felt a sliver of worry envelop her innards. It was as if invisible hands were squeezing her there in an attempt to snuff her out. She was homesick before she had even left. Her breathing deepened, quickened in imitation of her heart rate – I don’t want to marry this man. I despise him. I know it even before I truly have come to know him. Amelia pressed her face against the glass of the window that hazed over when her warm breath assaulted it.

  Let me catch this rapturous remembrance before it vanishes! It is like the passing lights of autumn that gleam for a moment on a hill and then leaves into darkness. Amelia started to count the days and hours that would withhold her from this fairyland that was called England.

  She was condemned to forego the delights of a world, which her imagination painted in the gayest and most alluring colors, and whose hues were, perhaps, not the less captivating because they were only ideal — such was the state, to which she was destined. Again, her resolution was invigorated; her father’s unkindness subdued tenderness, and this roused indignation.

  “Amelia, aren’t you excited to see Adelaide?” asked her father, referring to her sister who lived in British America. “Amelia, did you hear me?”

  “What was that, Father. I was just dreaming, that’s all.”

  “About the charming young Airey, I suppose.” Her father chuckled. “Young love; isn’t it wonderful?” he mused out loud.

  Amelia thought she was going to be sick. How could her father be so callous? They were never close like father and daughter should be, but that didn’t mean he could dump her on the first eligible nobleman’s son just because he wanted to elevate his social standing.

  “I do not love him,” hissed Amelia.

  Her father arched his eyebrows. Next to him, her mother snapped her head in her direction. “You are sometimes the most self-centered person I know. Your father and I have put a lot of thought into this engagement. The least you could do is show a little gratitude.”

  “Gratitude, Mother. I do not love the man,” Amelia spat. “And it is you who is self-centered – not I.” she returned her gaze to the passing landscape.

  Her mother took a moment to compose herself before she spoke. “It’ll come in time. I didn’t love your father at first.” She turned to him and stroked his hand. “In time, we learned to love one another…didn’t we Tweenie?”

  “Yes, my dear, we did,” he said, smiling back at her.

  “But Templeton French is evil. I could see it in his eyes. I could never learn to love such a man,” said Amelia still looking out of the window. How she wished she could be sitting with Anna in the baggage coach.

  “Would you prefer a fat old man to that young and beautifully turned out gentleman? In my view Airey is absolutely gorgeous,” said her mother.

  “I would like neither, thank you very much. I want to choose whom I marry,” said Amelia, briefly looking back into the inside of the carriage.

  Both of her parents laughed. “That’s not how it works, Dearest. We marry for position and status and to maintain that status quo. We cannot dilute the haves with the have-nots – it just wouldn’t be fitting.” Her mother arranged her clothing as if to make her point.

  “What on earth would a duke’s son want with a lowly ship owner’s daughter anyway? If I am not mistaken his father is the seventh in line to the title. You, Father, started as a stevedore and you worked your way up.” Amelia sneered. “This is a classic example of a peasant marrying into nobility.”

  Her mother nearly fainted. She took a quick succession of breaths, making the situation worse. Her father shot his daughter a hard look as he tried to calm his wife. “Now, look what you’ve done. Your mother is unwell thanks to you.”

  Amelia smiled. She had not felt this good in weeks. It was about time somebody told her parents, who had grown in self-implied importance since the accolade, what their heritage was.

  Besides, none of it made any sense to her. Even if the duke was the seventh in line, at some point, there must’ve been a first in line. Maybe he might have been a lord or something, but along the way, the Templeton French family was once just that, the Templeton French family and nothing more. What was all of the fuss about peerage anyway? Amelia never had been one for the system.

  “You are going to Canada to visit your sister, and when Lord Templeton French comes calling, you will comport yourself as it befits the daughter of a noble house. Your sister, Adelaide, has agreed to do the chaperoning with her husband. Is that clear?” said Sir Thomas.

  Amelia huffed. “And you don’t worry that I might be attacked by the Americans. If you haven’t forgotten, there is a war going on between this country and that of the United States of America…it would be safer if I remained here until things calmed down.”
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br />   “Poppycock! The British Navy has the Atlantic Ocean in her pocket. The yanks don’t stand a chance,” said her father condescendingly.

  “I beg to differ. American privateers scourge the sea. They have already captured countless British trading vessels,” said Amelia. “I read that in the newspapers the other day.

  Her father seemed surprised that his daughter would even deign to read the newspapers. However, he regained his composure quickly. “Then, you have no need to worry because you shall be on board a frigate of the Royal Navy.” He inflated his chest importantly. “The Duke of Brandon arranged it personally.”

  Amelia was about to jump out of the moving carriage, but the thought of Anna’s dream stopped her. She pleated her brow. Weren’t they going on a voyage by sea? Was that not where they would meet their men. This is ridiculous, she thought. She looked up when she heard her father chuckling to find him stroking her mother’s cheek affectionately.