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Authors: Marly Mathews

His Michaelmas Mistress (11 page)

BOOK: His Michaelmas Mistress
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“Nothing else will stop us this time. I want your word, Julia.”

“You have always had my word, Freddie. You have always had my loyalty, and my love, and now…I shall take my leave, so you can have the time to know your father without being distracted by me—by us. Take him home to Wilton Park. Share your life with him that is what I want for you. On second thought, once Mama and Richard alight from the carriage, I am going to return to Castleton Court. I am utterly fagged to death. I don’t think I’d be much use at the dinner, so pray, give my apologies to Uncle Edward and Aunt Alice.”

“I don’t want to let you go,” Freddie said fervently, pulling her back against him, so her back was pressed against his front.

“I think you must. I feel as if I am dead on my feet. I have had enough fun for one day, Freddie.”

He leaned down and kissed her cheek. His kiss made her tingle. He didn’t even have to claim her lips to affect her deeply.

The carriage carrying her mama and her brother came to a halt. A footman dashed around and opened the door for her mother and her brother. Her brother got down first, and then helped Beatrice down.

She looked at Julia, her eyes narrowing to slits. “You are not dressed for dinner, Julia.”

“I know, Mama. I forgot, and I am rather tired. I thought I would return to Castleton Court, and rest.”

Beatrice pursed her lips, and looked inclined to argue. Julia held her breath, waiting for her mother’s temper to spew forth. Instead, her pursed lips lifted into a smile.

“That sounds splendid. I shall make your apologies to your aunt and uncle. Now, off with you, my girl. The carriage can come back and wait her for us once they drop you off at Castleton Court.”

“Thank you, Mama.” She stiltedly went over to her mother, and gave her a soft peck on her powdered cheek.

“Rest up, Julia. I do not like to see those dark shadows under your eyes. It is most unbecoming!”

“Yes, Mama.” Sighing, she made her way to the waiting carriage with Freddie stalking her every step.

“I should come with you…” Freddie said.

“I shall be fine. What trouble could I possibly find between here and Castleton Court?”

“You have managed to find trouble between here and there before,” he pointed out.

“I had Rose with me when I found that trouble. I do not have the uncanny knack for finding trouble the way that Rose and Iris do.”

He looked unconvinced. “You are still a Lovett.”

She bit her lower lip. “You look quite handsome, Freddie. Dressing like a highwayman suits you.”

“Bloody hell.” He looked down at himself. He wore mostly black, and it suited him.

“If you were already my husband, we could continue this little chat well into the night, alas, you are not my husband, and…” she yawned delicately, “I must find my bed.”

His blue eyes sparked. “I could throw caution to the wind, and come with you.”

“And mortify my Mama to death? No, you shall stay here, and sort out the trouble that awaits you once my mother finds out that you are set in remainder for a dukedom.”

“You are a little minx,” he growled, though the way his eyes danced, telling her he was utterly delighted with her. She was besotted with him, and he with her, and that would never change.

“And you love it.” She smiled serenely at him. “Now, could you oblige me by closing that door?”

His eyes widened, and he moved toward her. Probably realizing that if he continued on his dangerous path, they would both be emerged in scandal. He sighed, and softly closed the carriage door. She heard him giving instructions to the driver, and then she felt the carriage jostling, as it headed back to Castleton Court.

She hadn’t felt this contented since the morning of her wedding—before all of the drama had happened, she had been walking on air. She sat back against the seat, and closed her eyes. Love swelled through her. She had her gentle giant back.

She had her beloved Freddie.

Chapter Thirteen

 

Freddie had never been so relieved for a dinner to end. The ladies retired to the Lavender Saloon, and left them alone with their port. He sipped at it, as he listened to his father and Edward talk about the life of a magistrate.

He could see where his father was leading the conversation, and winced when he finally broached the subject.

“How do you view poaching, sir?” the Duke asked.

Damnation.

Why couldn’t his father be reserved like Edward? Why did he have to be like a bloody battering ram? Why did he have to be so damn much like him?

It wasn’t fair.

“As long as no grievous harm has been done, I do not view it too seriously. I also like to know if it was done out of need or greed, Your Grace.”

“Tell him, Freddie,” the Duke said.

Freddie sighed. “The man who I always thought was my father should be standing trial before you shortly, sir.”

“Indeed?” Edward Lovett said, sipping at his port. Micah and Lewis had become conspicuously quiet. “I shall hear the story at that point, then, sirs,” he said, his tone brokered no more debate, and Freddie took the hint, even though his father evidently hadn’t.

“I want to see that blasted man hang,” the Duke said angrily.

“I am quite certain you do,” Edward said. “I take it from what I have heard that he wasn’t the best father in the world…nor the best man, however…”

“He is a blackguard of the foulest sort, sir, and Freddie should have hanged him, right after he caught him.”

“Had he caused harm to any of your men, Freddie?” Edward asked calmly.

“No,” Freddie answered.

“Then, you took the right steps to ensure that Enoch Smith is brought to justice.”

“Justice! There is no justice for a man like him, aside from being at the end of a rope,” the Duke said angrily.

“You have expressed your view, mate, now do be quiet. You are making our host bloody uncomfortable,” Freddie said, sighing.

Edward sighed. “I understand the Duke’s concerns, Freddie. He forgets that I, too, am a father, and that had I known my son had been treated in such an ill manner, I would have blood in my eyes as well. I would want the man to be horsewhipped or to hang.

“Unfortunately, he hasn’t the power in these parts to see that happen, but I assure you, Your Grace, I shall not allow Mr. Enoch Smith to get off with just a slap on the wrist. He shall be punished, for his poaching. Alas, not for how he fared as a father. I haven’t the right to cast judgement on that part of his life. But poaching has become a renewed problem here in Wiltshire, and I think that I need to show those who partake in it that it shall not be tolerated. And hopefully, it will serve as a warning and a detractor to those who want to do it.”

“Thank you, sir,” the Duke said, suddenly contrite. Had he noticed the look of thunder Freddie had been trying to relay to him? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care, he only wanted peace at the table, and while Edward Lovett would not become argumentative, he would defend his position to the Duke. Edward was easy going, but he wasn’t weak.

Richard had remained quiet during the whole exchange, but by the almost panicked look in his eyes, he had feared a fight between the two men.

“I…” Freddie cleared his throat. Now, he felt like getting properly shot in the neck. “I think we should be going, Mr. Lovett.”

“Why don’t we all retire to Castleton Court for some more games? We could have some drinks and play some Billiards, and if you’d like Your Grace, you can stay the night. Bring your valet, and whatever else you need,” Richard suggested helpfully.

“I think I should remain here,” Edward Lovett said.

“Aye,” Thomas Somersby agreed. “I am a mite tired. This old body tires easily nowadays.”

Freddie had almost forgotten that Thomas Somersby was there. It seemed the man knew there was a time and a place for his boisterous attitude, and a few minutes ago hadn’t been that time or place.

“Rose probably wants to return to Maidstone Manor. She hasn’t been feeling that well lately,” Micah said.

“Aye,” Lewis said evenly. “I, too, will have to give my regrets, Richard. Iris needs her sleep too. There might be something going around.”

Freddie remained quiet. He knew why they were all begging off. No one knew how to act around his father. He sighed heavily. He didn’t even know how to bloody well act around the man. He was beyond stubborn! And if his grandfather had been like his father with more of a hardened edge, he could easily see why his mother had ran from them. He must have terrified her.

“Well, we’ll have a good game with you two bastards sometime at Wilton Park, eh?” Freddie asked.

Lewis and Micah smiled and said in unison, “Aye.”

It looked as if he and Richard were the ones stuck with his father. Ah, the duties of a son could be taxing.

Once they reached Castleton Court, his father’s valet went to where the other Staff were to wait until the Duke required him, and they headed to the Billiards Room, and started to drink whisky while they played.

“I have met Lord Cary, and Lord Everley but I must confess, I am anxious to meet your Colonel Elliot and your other mates. What were their names again?” the Duke asked.

“Lord Spaulding and Lord Prescott, otherwise known as Tiny and Lucky.”

“And is Tiny actually tiny?”

“Oh, no,” Freddie chuckled. “He’s about an inch shorter than me.”

“Ah, I see,” the Duke grinned. “And Lucky?”

“Gilbert gained that nickname as one of the Royal Engineers assigned to our group, we were actually handpicked for the group by Colonel Elliot himself. We were a covert group of skirmishers, and became the stuff of bloody nightmares for the frogs.

“Lucky was like Tiny and me, he entered the Army as an enlisted man. He was promoted out of the enlisted ranks by Wellington himself, who had taken a personal liking to him, and promoted him for his heroic efforts. He was damn good at what he did, and earned his nickname because he was always lucky enough not to get his arse blown off or shot off, though he did have a few close calls,” Freddie laughed.

“I was originally trained as a Sapper, and Tiny came from a Grenadier Company, but we all had to learn how to take on different jobs while we were a part of The Angels of Death, and Lucky became quite the skilled artificer at making various explosives that aided us in us harassing the hell out of the enemy. He became quite the little powder monkey. Tiny served as a Pioneer for a time, and we basically did whatever we were told to do. You could say, we all wore many hats.”

“Sounds as if your experiences in the Army trained you for just about anything, Son,” the Duke said.

“You could say that,” Freddie agreed.

It was apparent after a while, that Richard wasn’t too skilled at the game, either that, or he wasn’t trying too hard, but he was enjoying the drink and the talk.

It didn’t take long for Richard to become foxed, and when he started to stagger around with his stick in his hand, he and his father exchanged a knowing look.

“Richard, mate, I think it is about time you retire to bed. You’re looking a wee bit peaky,” Freddie commented.

“I…think…you might be…I think you are quite right, Freddie,” Richard mumbled. “This has been a glorious night. I’ve really enjoyed myself, sirs,” he said, almost falling down. Freddie chuckled, and took the stick from him, and set it aside.

“Richard…let’s get you to your bedchamber,” he said. “Now, where would yours and your sister’s bedchamber be, eh?”

“Just have the footmen lead you there,” Richard mumbled. “Oh, and my darling sister’s bedchamber is…is down the hall a bit. Her bedchamber is off the family Music Room. Her bedchamber is draped in lavender…you’ll know it once you open the door. But why do you want to know where it is?” He staggered over to a chair, and sank down upon it. His head lolled forward, and soon the sound of his snores filled the room.

“He doesn’t hold his alcohol too well, does he?” the Duke asked. “Why don’t we finish off the rest of this decanter and then, take the Earl to his bedchamber?”

Freddie smiled. “Aye.”

Freddie felt a little lightheaded as well. To be fair to Richard, they had imbibed an awful lot. They went over to Richard, and hauled him to his feet.

“He is a dead weight,” the Duke said, his eyes wide.

“I can carry him there myself,” Freddie offered. “I’ll just pick him up and put him over my shoulder.”

“No…you’re a bit tipsy as well. We’ll both do it.”

“The footmen could probably handle it,” Freddie said.

“Aye, but the footmen aren’t as big as we are, and they can lead the way, keeping our path lit,” the Duke said.

“Aye, you have a point there.”

They each put one of Richard’s arms around their shoulders, and half carried, half dragged him through the house and up the stairs, whilst footmen led the way so they wouldn’t get lost in the sprawling house.

Once they reached Richard’s bedroom, they placed him on his bed, and rang for his valet.

“It is his valet’s job now,” the Duke said grimly. “Of course, the poor bugger might just be better off leaving the Earl the way he is to sleep in his clothes.” They walked back out into the hallway, and Freddie took a candlestick holder from one of the footmen. The flame burned brightly. The Duke smiled. “Don’t get yourself into hot water, tonight, Freddie. Take care not to sully Lady Julia’s reputation.”

“I won’t,” he said, his head still swimming. He dismissed the footmen, and then he and his father went to the guest bedchamber that Richard had shown them to earlier. This bedchamber was a grand one and was obviously set aside for guests of high social rank. This room was draped in gold silk, and looked like it was fit for a king.

“Do you know, I think I’m pretty close to nodding off myself. I could do with a lie down,” the Duke said tiredly. He sat down on the bed, and looked over at Freddie. “Ring for Gillis, would you?” he asked. Freddie did as his father asked, and rang for his valet.

His father stood back up and walked over to him, he pulled Freddie into an awkward embrace. Freddie felt dreadful. How the bloody hell was he going to handle this sudden turn of events?

The Duke muttered something that sounded like, my son, my son, and then, released him. He took one of the signet rings he wore off his right pinky finger, and reached for Freddie’s hand. “This is for you, Frederick. It was always meant for you, my son. My beloved son,” he said gruffly. “I have worn it all of these years hoping to give it you once you took your rightful place as my heir. Wear it with all of my pride, and affection,” he said.

“Thank you,” Freddie stuttered. He placed it on the pinky finger of his left hand, and it didn’t surprise him that it was a perfect fit. His father not only looked like him, but was built like him as well.

“There. That is finally where it belongs,” the Duke said, sighing, as he put his hand to his temple. “I…oh dear, everything is spinning, so I think I shall retire now,” he said, just as his valet arrived.

Freddie nodded at him, and quickly left the room. He stood still for a moment, attempting to ward off the dizziness that took hold of him. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was drunk as well, and maybe he was.

Now to find Julia.

His one and only true love.

*****

Upon returning to Castleton Court, Julia had trudged up the steps to her bedchamber, rang for her maid, and changed into her nightgown. Once her head hit her pillow, she was fast asleep, and slept soundly until the sound of someone entering her bedchamber woke her. They were holding a candlestick and blew the flame out on the candle before placing it on a nearby table.

What could she do? How had they managed to gain entrance to the house? She cast her eyes to her clock and barely made out the time as moonlight slipped through her parted curtains, and illuminated the face of the clock.

It was half past one in the morning. That meant it wasn’t the scullery maid coming to light the fire.

She should scream, but she felt too terrified to do that. She was frozen in fear.

The person who had entered her room crashed into something, and she heard a familiar voice utter the word, “Bollocks. That bloody well smarted.”

It was Freddie.

She finally exhaled, and then panic welled inside of her. What the hell was he doing in her bedchamber in the dead of night, and how the hell had he gotten into the house? The butler should have locked up for the night!

Moreover, how the blazes had he located her bedchamber?

“Freddie?” she hissed, her heart started thumping in her chest. She was afraid, and excited at the same time.

“Aye, what would you like, Julia? I know what I would like… I’d like to cozy up with you, and feel your lovely breasts, and kiss your luscious lips, and…” His words were slightly slurred. Splendid. She had an inebriated Freddie to contend with. How the hell much alcohol had he drunk to become foxed? It took a lot to even make him a trifle disguised! She heard him shuffling around the bedchamber, and saw something go flying through the air. “Shite,” he said, as it fell onto the floor. He’d aimed for a chair and missed.

BOOK: His Michaelmas Mistress
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