A Duke in Shining Armor

BOOK: A Duke in Shining Armor
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A Duke in Shining Armor

The Regency Heroes Series Book 1

 

A
Duke
in Shining Armor

Written by: Macy Ann Barnes

 

I dedicate this book to my mama, for always believing in me and encouraging me into making my dream a reality.

Copyrighted: Kimberly Gay Barnes

2012

 

London
,
England
1814

Chapter 1

Emily Moncrief stared at the cloudy mirror in her corner attic bedroom above the gentleman’s club her aunt and uncle owned and operated in Centre London.  She had dark smudges under her eyes, her skin was peeling from her rough work worn hands, and her dress was thread bare.  She sighed and blew a wayward ringlet of hair that had fallen from her pins out of her face.

If anyone would have told her four years ago at the age of fourteen that she was to be a slave to her aunt and uncle, she would have laughed in their faces.  The Moncrief family was well accepted among the ton, or so she thought.  Her mind floated back to that fateful day in February when her life had been completely turned upside down.

It started off as any other day normally did, breaking her fast with her mother before heading upstairs to do her daily school work with her governess.  “Mama, do I have to do school work today? The snow is so lovely; perhaps we could venture out and enjoy the crisp day?”

Emily put on her prettiest smile for her mother.  Marjorie Moncrief’s eyes crinkled in the corner as she smiled lovingly at her only child and stroked Emily’s long brunette hair.  “Now, Emily, you know your father does not permit you to miss your studies. They are very important to your future after all.”

Emily sighed. “Yes, of course you are right.”

             
She looked around the dining hall that she and her mother sat in and took in all the lovely things surrounding them. Her father had developed his own shipping company over the years and it had recently taken off.  She heard talk from her father about going to war with the American’s but when she asked him about it, he would tell her not to worry.

             
Their home sat on vast property off of
Blue Anchor Road
, which was close enough to the
London
docks for her father to oversee his shipments, but far enough out from the city for a quieter environment.   Fine ornaments adorned the wall and deep burgundy and gold velvet window draping’s hung from the window.  The floors were so shiny Emily could look down and see her reflection in them.

             
Her father, Matthew Moncrief, reminded his only child on a daily basis that it would be up to her and her future husband to manage their vast property.  A proper education and lady like manners unfortunately would be required to attract the proper suitors of one even with such a rich dowry he had given his daughter, because Emily had not taken after her mother’s striking pale blonde looks. At 5”7 Emily was unusually tall for a female, had plain brown hair and dark brown eyes.  The only thing Emily felt confident about herself was that her body had taken a very feminine shape in the last year and had actually prompted the stable boy to steal kisses from her.

             
Emily placed her napkin on the table and started to rise, when she was startled by a loud commotion from the front foyer which was followed by the family butler, Stately wailing in agony.  Everything happened so fast, it was almost surreal, as if Emily was watching as a third party and not actually in the chaos herself.  A crowd of about twenty men stormed into the dining hall, cutting down everyone in their path. She watched in horror as their beloved footman of ten years was pierced in the chest by a man brandishing the largest sword she had ever saw in her life.  Her mouth fell open to scream but no sound came from her.

  Marjorie turned to her frightened daughter and with panic in her eyes said “Emily run now, hide as fast as you can, do not come out no matter what!”  Emily fled from the room and ran to a back stair case that led up to her father’s study.  Her father was rushing down the stairs just as she approached.

“Emily! What on earth? I heard screaming!” Her father grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her in his urgency for a response. 

“Men, Papa, I don’t know who they are, they have swords and they are stabbing everyone, please go help Mama, she made me run!” 

Her father had a look of terror upon his face. “It’s happening, damn them to hell! Hide yourself daughter at once!”

Her father ran from the staircase towards the direction of the dining hall.  As she reached the top of the stairs she heard the shrill scream of females and knew that the men had reached the kitchen where the women were working.

“Please Lord, be with my mother.” Emily urgently prayed as she ran into her father’s study and dove under his desk.  She curled herself into a tight ball not even daring to breathe.

Minutes slowly ticked by and she heard no more screams.  She started to peek out from under the desk when she heard the door slowly creak open.  Boots shuffled on the floor as men entered her father’s study. 

“It’s got to be in here somewhere boys, that rat-bastard didn’t have the couth to hide his stolen bounty away from his house.” She heard a deep and menacing voice directing the men to pull down books and portraits in search of what they were hunting.

             
Emily held her breath and tried to be as inconspicuous as she could possibly be when a heavy boot slammed down in front her.  Terror unlike any she had ever known gripped her.   A huge hand reached under and grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her roughly from her hiding place.

“Well looks what we have here boys, this here is the real loot, another fine young girl to seek our pleasure on.” A disgusting bearded man with rotten teeth and tattered clothes held her up for all the other men in the room to get a good look at. “Hope you can hold out longer than blondie did downstairs, went and died on us before all of us had a rut.”

             
Tears flooded her eyes; she knew that the man was speaking of her mother.  “Please!” she sobbed, “Please let me go, I won’t tell anybody anything.” The rotten tooth man threw back his head and laughed heartily.

“What do you take me for gal a fool?” He slung her towards the other men who all began laughing and grabbing at her clothes.  They ripped the front of her gown down and exposed her breasts.  She fought them trying to cover herself.

“Well she is just ripe for the picking boss.” A tall skinny pocked faced man said, “She’s just now starting to bloom, and we can break her in nice and good.”  Emily fell back towards the desk in an attempt to get away from them and as she caught herself she found something hard, long, and cold beneath her hand.  The skinny man lunged for her and she swung her arm about with her father’s letter opener with all her might towards his neck. “Ow! You stupid little bitch!” he screamed in agony.

 
             
“Get her boys!” she heard the bearded leader shout.  She swung her weapon out in front of her and slowly backed towards the wall and the window behind her father’s desk.  “The first one of you who lays a finger on me will get to feel what skinny over there just felt.” she hissed at them in anger.

             
Something had taken over her.  She was in a blind rage.  Her mother, her sweet, sweet, mother left this world with the feel of these foul creatures pawing at her.  She would not suffer the same fate; they would have to kill her first.

“Now you little spitfire, we can make this a whole lot easier on you, but we can beat you real good if we have to.” another man said as he cautiously approached her.  She felt the window pane hit the back of the legs and in that single moment she made the decision which ultimately saved her life.  Saying a slight thank you to her father for enjoying a cool crisp breeze by opening his windows that morning she fell backwards from the second story window.  She hit a pile of snow with a hard thump, momentarily dazed, before she gathered her wits enough to run to the back of the house towards the stables.

She flung open the stable door and made a quick whistle which set her stallion Fury into motion; she threw herself upon him bare back and charged out of the stables, running over one of the men in her getaway.  She heard screams as Fury’s great hooves fell upon his body. 

She rode Fury harder than she had ever ridden him before, her destination unknown only seeking to escape from the horror she had just witnessed.  She finally slowed down and came to a stop when Fury’s breathing became ragged and she knew he would go lame without a reprieve.  She slid from his back and landed in a heap on the ground clutching her tattered clothes to her chest as heart wrenching sobs tore from her throat.  When she was finally spent, she rose and let Fury take the lead.  She knew he would lead her to water.

             
When they finally came upon a small creek she kneeled beside her horse and splashed her face with the cold water in an attempt to shock herself back into awareness.  She stroked Fury’s neck and placed her cheek to his back and tears silently trailed down her face.  She wept for her mother and her father.  She wept for all the servants at Moncrief Manor.  She doubted the men left behind any survivors. 

She stood there for so long holding on to Fury that when she finally became aware of her surroundings, she realized that the sun was going down.  Nightfall was approaching, which usually meant hard freezes and could kill her and the horse.  She squared her shoulders and set out to find an acceptable spot to spend the night.

             
She came upon a half fallen tree canopied in snow that would make a place for them to sleep and ward off the frost.  She pulled Fury in and gave him one last pat before she lay down, curled up in a ball, and fell into a tortured sleep.

             
“Emily you ungrateful wretch where are you?” Emily jerked back from her memories at her aunt’s angry shrill voice.  The door swung open and her voluptuous aunt stood with her hands propped above her well rounded hips and glared at Emily.  “You march yourself right back outside and draw up some water to heat in the kitchen for my weekly bath. How dare you fill a tub of cold water for me to bathe in?”  Her aunt took steps toward her and Emily shied away.  “I should have known I would find you up her being lazy. I don’t know why Albert puts up with your nonsense I tell him on a daily basis how worthless his sister’s orphan daughter is!” 

“I am sorry Aunt Evelyn; I will get your water at once.”   Emily rushed past her aunt and down the stairs without stopping for a shawl or covering and grabbed the water pail and went to the well.  Tears streamed down her face.  She painstakingly carried bucket after bucket upstairs earlier after heating them to only have her aunt take her time until the water got cold before trying to bathe.  Her muscles cramped and ached, but it would be nothing to the beating that she would take if her aunt didn’t have her hot bath.

As she sniffled and drew the bucket up she heard someone approach from behind.  Her hand instantly went to the knife strapped at her thigh as she turned to see who stood behind her.  The kind eyes of Jed, the stable boy for the club looked upon her in pity.  At least when he took extra care of a fancy gentleman’s horses and such he would earn a shilling or too.  Emily never earned anything for her hard work.

 
             
“Here Emily, let me help you with that, I see the witch is up to her usual tricks.”  He carefully lifted the bucket up and started walking with Emily towards the kitchen so she could place the water over the fire.

“Thank you, Jed to be honest I thought I might die from fatigue before I could carry all this water upstairs for the second time today.” She gave him an appreciative smile.

  He smiled back and ran his hand through his sandy blonde hair and said “Shucks, Emily, you know I will help you anytime you need it, all you have to do is ask.” 

Three years his senior, he had been a lonely orphaned boy of eleven when she had come to work and live at the club.  He worked just as hard, if not harder than she did so she hated to burden him with any of her load.  Thanks to Jed’s help her aunt’s bath water was steaming again in record time.  She was headed for the door when her aunt commanded her to stop.  “Come here girl and help me wash my hair, we have things to discuss.”

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