Page 8 of The Brooding Duke's Fateful Letter
“He knows me. What if he reveals this?” the duke asked, now worried.
“I am not sure anyone would listen to him, Your Grace.” Byron replied dismissively.
“We traveled this path to help conceal my identity and then that happens.”
“I do apologize Your Grace. I should have carried out my duties with more skill,” Byron replied.
“It is not your fault. We will just have to see what comes of this. Men like that do not give up easily once they smell an opportunity to benefit finically,” the duke said.
The duke traveled the rest of the morning lost in thought. He had no way of knowing what to expect from the men they had just let flee. Then there was the impending courtship to Lord Wentworth’s daughter. If he does honor his word. The rest of the way home held no further delays, and they were soon home again.
The duke’s secret had caused him to have to enter his own home as though he were a criminal.
“The same as always, Your Grace?” Byron asked.
“Yes thank you Byron,” said the duke.
Byron rode ahead to the back gate. Once he gave the signal, the duke knew it was safe for him to enter the gate on foot. The duke had considered that perhaps it was an easier option to let his secret be known. Then came the thoughts of how people would suddenly be kinder to him and how easily he would then find a woman to wed.
“How do you think she will react to me being in s wheelchair?” The duke asked Byron as he found him inside the walls.
“Your Grace, I can have no way of knowing. If I were expecting a bride, I would at least want her to want me as I am,” he replied honestly.
“That is what I’m hoping for. I do not think it is likely,” the duke remarked.
“We can only wait until we know more, Your Grace.” Byron gave the duke a hopeful smile.
As they’d arrived late at night, Henry bid Byron goodnight and went to bed. He spent the entire restless night wondering if she would be satisfied with the estate. He began wandering around, moving furniture and trinkets. Every time he stood back to admire his work, he felt more unsure than he did before.
I wish I could remember what she looked like. She surely must have been beautiful to peek my interest in the first place! The duke’s thoughts were racing as he tried to settle in for the night.
He had been put in charge of his household at a very young age. Many had been after the land and the great wealth it held beneath the soil. They had thought the young heir easy to persuade and had been taught a vital lesson in humility. He had been raised knowing that one day he would take over his father’s duties.
It had been a few days too soon when his mother had told him he had passed. The illness had been so swift and unknown that it had taken mere days for him to fall ill. He had passed three days later leaving the duke with his new title at twenty years of age. Sixteen years had not erased that painful memory.
Chapter 3
Wentworth Estate
Charlotte hunched forward to relieve the ache in her lower back. She looked across the room to the mirror. Her hair was in an up style with a stylish bun at the back and curls down the sides of her face. The royal blue dress she wore made her green eyes sparkle like emeralds. She had been playing the harp for almost an hour now and could barely feel her fingertips any longer.
“Can we please stop for today Nanny?” Charlotte pleaded with the sour-faced old lady in charge of her care.
“Not until you can play it properly, so no, you may not stop for today,” her nanny said as she put a hand to her grey hair. Her nanny had been with her since Charlotte was a baby. Her once young hands had held her close as an infant.
“Oh why must you be so unfair to me. It’s not like I’m actually used to all this. Back home I used to spend my days exploring the beautiful outdoors. Here in this prison I am expected to be proper and do ridiculous things the likes of playing the harp.” Charlotte said with frustration.
“A real lady must have certain skills or she will spend her days as a spinster,” her nanny said, her hazel eyes wide with warning.
“Sounds like a better idea than to do all this just to impress a man.” Charlotte said clearly upset.
“And how will you live, dear? You don’t own land nor are you allowed to. Then to add to that, what skills do you have that would see you hold down a job? You will be on the streets for your stubborn ways,” her nanny said in a kinder voice.
The cold truth splashed water all over the fire that burned in Charlotte. The unhappiness of it all was a condition she found the most difficult to overcome.
Just as Charlotte sighed and positioned her hands to start playing again. They heard a tap at the door. Charlotte smiled at the respite. She didn’t think her back could take sitting in the same chair any longer.
Her nanny took her time to answer it. When she did, Charlotte found that her curiosity overwhelmed her.
