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Authors: Kathryn Kirkwood

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BOOK: Match For Melissa
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As Melissa busied herself with the shears and then plied her needle with shaking fingers, she took care that her tears would not stain her work. When her duties as Lissa were finished for the evening, she would dress in the costume she had fashioned. Then she would slip into the ballroom with the invited guests and Queen Guinevere would dance with King Arthur. The memory of this shining moment was all she would have to keep her warm in the cold and lonely nights to come.

Thirteen

Robert Whiting, the eighth Duke of Oakwood, sat at his father’s desk in his father’s library, feeling every ounce of the weight of his duties resting against his shoulders. This was now Robert’s desk and his library, the chamber in which he would conduct his ducal business. Robert only wished that he might prove worthy of the title he now held.

The library had been closed since his father’s death and there were holland covers over some of the larger pieces of furniture. In the two years following his father’s death, Robert had conducted all the estate business from a small study on the second floor, intending to take charge of the library when the grief at his father’s passing had lessened. This chamber had been his father’s domain and Robert had been sensible of the fact that his mother would certainly be saddened to see him sitting at his father’s desk and making use of his father’s private possessions so soon after his death. He had been intending to open the library on the third anniversary of his father’s death, but his mother and sister had decided that the time was now right and had ordered it opened and cleaned for his use.

The duchess had cleared the desk herself, removing the mementos she wished to keep in her possession. It was while she was emptying one of the drawers that she had come across a sealed packet addressed to Robert with the caveat that it be opened by no other. Deciding that the contents could be of some
importance, she had sent a message to Oakwood House, requesting his immediate presence.

Robert gazed down at the package in his hand. His name was written in his father’s bold hand and he took a deep breath as he broke the seal. He was anticipating directions concerning unsettled estate business, or a final word of advice on assuming his title and duties. But the words his father had written were as shocking as they were unexpected and Robert found his hands trembling as he examined his father’s letter.

It seemed that Robert’s father had enjoyed the company of a childhood friend, a Miss Anne Hathaway who had lived with her grandmother on a neighboring estate. The two had grown up together, fallen in love, and planned to marry when they were of an age. There was only one problem; Anne was the by-blow of an earl, not a suitable match for a duke’s heir. When Robert’s grandfather became aware of the couple’s intentions, he spoke to Anne’s grandmother and Anne was sent away to marry an elderly vicar in the north country.

Robert’s father saw Anne only once more, on the eve of her departure. He wrote that he had pleaded with her to run away with him, but Anne had refused. She knew that Robert’s father would be disinherited if they married and she loved him too much to be the cause of his ruin. Anne had one item of value, a set of fine jewelry made of rare blue diamonds that her mother had left to her. They had been a gift from the earl who had fathered her, presented to Anne’s mother when she had become his mistress. Anne gave the necklace to Robert’s father and elicited his promise to present it to his firstborn son. She kept the earrings for herself and made a like vow, that she would bequeath them to her firstborn daughter. It was Anne’s hope that someday their children might fall in love and the set would again be complete.

Robert sighed. He was touched by his father’s letter and curious that he had never heard the tale before. His father went on to write that he had married Robert’s mother several years later and that their match had been a happy one. He had no regrets and he loved Robert’s mother dearly, but he was haunted by not
knowing what had happened to his childhood love. When he had become duke, he had hired investigators to find out where Anne had gone, but Anne’s grandmother had taken that secret to her grave. Rumor had it that Anne’s elderly husband had died shortly after their vows had been spoken and that Anne had subsequently remarried. There was also a rumor that Anne had given birth to a daughter and had died several years later, but the duke’s investigators were unable to substantiate either story.

The final paragraph of his father’s letter brought tears to Robert’s eyes. The old duke pleaded with Robert to carry on with the search and to find Anne Hathaway if she were still alive. If not, he should do his utmost to locate her daughter. If Robert succeeded in this last request, he should present the necklace to Anne’s daughter and tell her of the love Robert’s father had shared with her mother.

Robert opened the packet and gasped at the splendor of the necklace. It was both exquisite and unusual, quite obviously the gift of a wealthy lover. He slipped it into his pocket and went to find his mother who had asked him to come to her in her sitting room after he had examined the packet.

The duchess bid him to enter and patted the chair beside her. “Robert, dearest. Are you most distressed at this belated word from your father?”

“No, Mother. It was not in the least distressing.” Robert smiled and accepted the cup of tea that she poured for him. On his way to his mother’s sitting room, he had decided he must choose his words with caution. It would not do to divulge the full extent of his father’s final request. If his mother learned that the old duke had harbored a secret love all these years, she could very well become overset.

“Well?” The dowager duchess peered at him over the rim of her cup. “You must not keep me in suspense any longer. I have been imagining all sorts of dire possibilities.”

Robert laughed. “It was of little consequence, Mother. Father
merely wished me to locate a childhood friend and return a gift that was given him long ago. It is a trifling request, but it had great significance for him and I shall see that it is done.”

“You are a good son, Robert.” The dowager duchess patted his hand. “Perhaps you will be so kind as to grant me a request also?”

Robert nodded. “Certainly Mother, if it is within my power. What is it that you wish?”

“It is my desire to take leave of Oakwood Castle at the first opportunity. I dearly loved this drafty old place when your father was alive, but now I find that I am most eager to quit it. I beg you to marry soon so that I may be free to leave.”

“Where will you go?”

“To London.” A smile spread over the duchess’s face. “I have missed my old friends and they seldom venture out this far to visit. I should like to establish myself in a small house and partake of the excitement that the city has to offer. I am certain that if you put your mind to it, you shall find a suitable bride and release me from my duties here.”

Robert’s lips turned up in a mischievous smile. “I sense that this is another of your attempts to marry me off. Where have you hidden her, Mother?”

“Hidden whom?” The duchess looked bewildered for a moment. Then she caught her son’s meaning and began to chuckle. “I am hiding no one, Robert.”

“Are you certain?” Robert rose to his feet and crossed to the drapes, lifting them aside to ascertain that no one was hiding there. Then he peeked beneath the cloth that covered the table and searched behind his mother’s settee.

The duchess laughed at his antics for a moment and then her expression sobered. “There is no need to search, Robert, for I have ceased my matchmaking pursuits. If the truth be known, I have run out of suitable young ladies to present to you.”

“After so few?” Robert chuckled. “If I recall correctly, there have been only three dozen or so, over the past two years.”

The dowager duchess raised her eyebrows. “That many? Perhaps I was better at the game than I thought I was.”

“It was a valiant effort, Mother.” Robert reached out to take her hand. “Father would have been proud of your tenacity.”

“And yours as well, for you resisted every young lady that I brought forward. You must choose your own bride, Robert, for none of my suggestions have borne fruit. All I ask is that you make your choice quickly before I become so old and decrepit that I can no longer enjoy dancing at parties.”

Robert nodded, taking the seat beside her and patting her hand. “I shall do that, Mother, perhaps sooner than you expect.”

“You have met someone then?”

Robert laughed at the eager expression on his mother’s face. “Yes, Mother, and I am certain that you will approve of my choice.”

“Oh, Robert! She is not an opera girl, is she?”

Robert was shocked until he gazed into his mother’s teasing eyes. “No, Mother, she is not an opera girl, and it is unseemly of you to even know of such things. In your exalted position as duchess you must concern yourself with loftier matters.”

“Like counting the china that remains unused in the cupboards, or seeing that the linen is in readiness for the guests who never arrive? Or would you prefer I do needlework for hours on end, or paint charming likenesses of the birds in the trees?” The duchess laughed at the image she presented. “I am more sophisticated than you think me to be, Robert, and I have never been sheltered. You forget that I had four elder brothers who did not guard their speech around me, and a husband who believed that his wife should be an equal, not a delicate creature to cosset from reality. I heard of opera girls long before I attended my first performance of the same name, and your father, himself, told me of the mistress to whom he gave
conge
when he married me.”

“But…Mother!” Robert felt the heat rise to his face.

“Do not pretend that such a side of life does not exist, Robert. I am certain that you have attended a Cyprian ball or two, and
perhaps even ventured to Harriet Wilson’s of an evening when you were alone and wished for feminine companionship.”

Robert’s mouth fell open and he found himself utterly speechless. That his gentle mother should not only know of such things, but speak of them in such a nonchalant manner was a surprising revelation to him.

The duchess gave a mischievous giggle and reached out to take her son’s hand. “I see by your expression that you are shocked to hear me speak of such things. Your father was not a saint, Robert, and you must not regard him as such. He was quite a charming rake, in his day, and I think it unlikely that the apple should fall that far from the tree!”

Robert whooped with laughter at her comment and then he sobered quickly. “Put your fears to rest, Mother. I have not decided to seek a wife from among the ranks of the fashionably impure. The young lady I have chosen is a most suitable match, one that would satisfy even the most discriminating of the old tabbies who hold court at Almack’s. She is the eldest daughter of Lord Harrington’s widow and as pleasing as she is proper.”

“Well done, Robert!” The dowager duchess clapped her hands in delight. “Though I do not know the girl personally, I am so glad that you have reached a decision. When shall you declare for her?”

“As soon as I get back to London, Mother. And once the formalities have been observed, I will bring her here to meet you. You should not mind receiving her, should you?”

“Mind?” The duchess laughed so merrily, the tea sloshed from her cup. “My darling Robert, you do not know the extent to which this pleases me. I shall be so delighted to meet your future wife, I may hand her the keys and take leave for London before you have even spoken your vows!”

Fourteen

It was the night before the duke’s costume ball and Melissa was exhausted as she was handed down from the carriage in front of the house in Belgrave Square. She had not left Oakwood House until she was assured that all was in readiness and darkness had fallen several hours ago. The duke had not yet returned from Oakwood Castle, but he had sent word that he would arrive on the morrow. In his absence, Harley had ordered that she be carried home, insisting that it was much too dangerous for her to walk in the dark, and Melissa had gratefully availed herself of the convenience.

As she entered the house, Melissa was thankful to see that only Mary was there to greet her. The young maid reported that Jane and her daughters had left upwards of an hour ago, to attend the opera with Lord Chadwick. This news suited Melissa perfectly as she needed an uninterrupted hour or two to add the finishing touches to her costume. After a few words with Mary, she went up to her bedchamber and busied herself with needle and thread.

At last the elaborate medieval costume was finished and Melissa pressed it carefully. The flowing velvet and brocade of the gown would compliment her figure and she had made a matching headdress and a mask so that her face would not be recognized. Almost everyone who had received an invitation had responded in the affirmative. There would be a veritable crush in the duke’s ballroom and Melissa was certain that she
could slip in amongst the throng without anyone noticing one more guest or questioning her presence at the affair.

It was past midnight when Melissa retrieved the packet that her father had addressed to her. With great excitement, she opened it and gasped as she examined the contents. She had not dreamed her mother’s earrings would be such a lovely treasure. They were fashioned of glittering blue diamonds and Melissa had never seen stones to equal their beauty. A single sheet of velum lay inside the casket that held her mother’s treasure. Melissa’s hands were shaking as she removed it and realized that it was a missive from her mother, written in a lovely but faltering hand.

My Darling Daughter, I hope that you shall never have cause to read this for it will mean that I did not survive my illness. Your father has promised to give you my earrings on the eve of your first formal ball. Before you wear them, I must tell you the story of the set of jewelry my mother gave to me.

Melissa blinked back tears as she read the sad story of her mother’s childhood love and how she had given him the necklace that matched the earrings. Her mother’s letter told of her first marriage to a pleasant, but elderly vicar who had died shortly after they had exchanged their vows. She described her first meeting with Melissa’s father and how kind he had been to the lonely young widow, forced by circumstances to live off the charity of her eldest stepson. Melissa’s father had rescued her from a grim life of genteel poverty and made certain her future held nothing but happiness.

BOOK: Match For Melissa
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