Page 7 of A Bluestocking for the Wicked Duke
James checked his time piece.
“It’ll be well past noon when we get there,” James replied.
“Good, I can’t wait to get over with this trumpery,” William replied.
They drove their horses into a run, kicking up dust behind them.
Chapter 2
His Sword Broke
Duchess Henrietta Marlow was the daughter of a rich foreign aristocrat. Her father, Lucas Pabon was a political fugitive from France. He was a wealthy contractor who supported the reigning King Louis IX who was ousted from power by protests and demonstrations from the aggrieved proletariats. There was an overriding belief that King Louis IX set policies that favoured the bourgeoisie at the expense of the welfare of the ordinary people. The grumblings had gone on for a long period but the king never deemed it fit to douse the growing embers. He realized his mistake too late. Henrietta had never been there, her father escaping with his life, his pregnant wife and a coach with enough money to England three months before she was born. Her father did hear that he lost all that he left. The revolution was destructive and absolute. The French people were unforgiving and razed down any property suspected to be owned by an individual in the favour of King Henry.
Lucas Pabon rebuilt his business in England; building French style houses for sale and rent. His business grew and over time Lucas reestablished himself once more. Although her father lived in fear of the visit of the French people, it never came.
She was the first of four children, the only girl. Her mother whom had witnessed the power of a raging mob taught her children to be soft spoken and unimposing especially Henrietta, her daughter.
Henrietta was schooled in the best schools England had to offer, assimilating all the wiles and airs of a woman of court. Her mother always groomed her to marry into royalty and wasn’t surprised when heirs to Dukes and Earls designed to court her and seek her hand in marriage. Henrietta chose Duke Justin Marlow, Duke of Wellington, after a long period of courtship. He was quick to anger and a man of little patience but he had a good heart and put others first in a lot of things he did. Henrietta saw that as qualities necessary to keep control of one’s followers. Now they had two children; William and his younger sister, Regina. Henrietta loved her husband, which was unlike many royal unions, and always prayed for such love to happen to her son despite his tendency to drift from damsel to damsel.
She was very aware of the sayings of the society. She knew her son was popular due to his carriage and wits; his ability with damsels and his swordsmanship spreading the lore even more. She had given up on matching him with a suitable bride a long time ago. William was an unrepentant rake. He either repeatedly left the lady unattended or he started a courtship and broke it up suddenly. He preferred to roam from damsel to damsel, always claiming that he was yet to find a lady that would steal his heart. Henrietta had been forced to make many an apology on his behalf.
His father wasn’t like that. Where did he get that from?
Now William had gotten himself into another problem; managing to get himself into a duel. She had been aware of many duels her son had partaken in, he was a prolific swordsman. But she was worried for this one, William did not know the kind of man that the Duke of Buckingham and Chandos was. Duke Nicholas was as sly as a fox and Henrietta doubted such characteristics ever left a person. She wondered why a man almost as old as her husband would be eager to get himself into a fencing duel with a renowned swordsman like her son.
Nicholas was also a good swordsman.
She did remember that. But he was old now and her son had engaged in more sword fights than Nicholas ever could have. She was sure he wouldn’t be relying on just his swordsmanship to beat William; he had something up his sleeve. She needed to find out.
Her husband was down with an illness that looked like the flu but couldn’t be. He had been in bed for weeks now, unable to function unaided. She had gotten doctors to come over to treat him but no one had been able to find the right drug to be used for him. She looked across the bed to his ailing figure. His ragged breath pushed his ribcage up and down in a wavy movement. His skin was withered now; white and flaky to touch. Henrietta walked to his bed and sat down on the chair beside it, her favourite chair since he fell ill. She saw his eyelids flutter, they always did that but he never opened his eyes. Henrietta felt he was listening, it was a strong suspicion so she avoided saying bad news around him.
Henrietta looked at her time piece, it was almost noon. Duels were usually set for noon. She had to be there.
“I am coming back in a few hours Justin. I need to go check your son.”
She kissed him lightly on his lips then looked into the mirror. There were lines at the edge of her eyes now; those weren’t there three months ago. She rubbed at them, trying to smoothen the skin back to normal. They didn’t leave.
Henrietta smiled and sighed. She still saw herself as beautiful, only that she had gained weight over the years. She ran her fingers through her hair. It had as much grey as black strands now, she remembered when all she had was a thick dark mane. She remembered how stunning she used to look when she was young. She had hoped to find a bride as calm as she was for her son but he was unyielding. She left him to his own designs now.
She had called the house stewards early that morning. She needed to know where the duel was taking place and her son was not going to offer that information. She trusted that at least one person would be aware. So calling them one by one, she found out from two stewards where the duel was taking place. They hadn’t found out by eavesdropping or looking into the letter dropped, Henrietta found out that the Duke of Buckingham and Chandos, unlike in the proper conduct of a duel, made public the venue of the affair. For something he could be summoned by the King for, Duke Nicholas was very open about it. The stewards assured her that the venue of the duel would be teeming with spectators. Henrietta hurried her feet more, more spectators only meant one thing, greater embarrassment. She feared that her son’s honour would be left greatly injured by this affair.
She couldn’t be seen at an affair like that, not as the Duchess of Wellington. She went into her robe room and found the oldest and gloomiest gown she had. She put it on. She picked a thick black shawl and wrapped it around her neck, covering her face up to her eyes. Then she walked out of the house into the stable. The stable boy was there, feeding the animals.
“Prepare a horse for me now,” she told him.
The boy looked at her strangely. She could see he didn’t know who was talking to him. She whipped the shawl off her face and repeated her statement.
“Prepare a horse for me now,” she said, glaring into his curious eyes.
The boy realized his error and ran into one of the sheds. He saddled the horse and dusted its back then dragged it out with its bridle and offered it to the Duchess.
“I am sorry ma’am,” he said, curtseying as he helped her mount the horse.
She didn’t reply. She kicked into the horse, throwing it into a run immediately. She couldn’t afford to be late.
*******
Henrietta got there just in time. The field was surrounded by countrymen who had heard of the duel happening. The raucous was at full pitch. She couldn’t hope to see past the sea of heads so she stayed on her horse, watching the center from the edge of the field.
