Amanda StoNeS
Historical Regency Romance Author
The DisfiguredDuke of Loxwood
First Chapters
Prologue
Four years ago
“Have my riding clothes out, Smith,” Victor Lonsdale, Duke of Loxwood, instructed his valet. “My brother wishes us to go for a ride over the moors. Although it is beyond me to see why he would want to on such a day.”
It was a rhetorical question and Victor didn’t expect his valet to answer.
“Very well. Your Grace.” His valet set about obtaining the clothes.
In the meantime, Victor walked over to the window and stood with his hands on his hips. The wind was howling already, and the dark clouds moved rapidly over the vast white sky. He shuddered as if a chill had entered his body, which was not possible as his bedchambers was warm from the roaring fireplace. The October day was like any other, but Victor felt some foreboding. His heart felt tight, as if he could hardly breathe. He placed his right hand over his thudding heart, patting it to calm it down.
He wished he could foresee the immediate future. Did danger lay ahead? Perhaps he should call this expedition off. Victor much preferred a sunny, calm day as any other would do. Why would one cherish the desire to frolic upon the verdant meadows amidst a brisk and invigorating day, with the sky yet veiled in an unbroken tapestry of clouds? It was to rain, there could be no mistake.
Returning from the window, he stood still as his valet began to dress him, but his thoughts led him to his brother whom he loved dearly. He was younger than him and quite mischievous, perhaps much audacious also. He wished he was like him: fearless. Graeme could not set a foot wrong and was the apple of his mother’s eye and his father doted on him. He was certain, they loved all their three children, Graeme, his younger sister, Clara and himself, but Graeme was certainly the favourite.
Victor didn’t mind, he would spoil his siblings as much as his parents would, which led him to Graeme’s precarious adventure.
“Who does not like an adventure, Loxwood? You must learn to play a little,” Graeme said as they breakfasted together that very morning. “You are too stiff for your own good.” He cut an orange and began to eat it with a knife.
“I do play when it suits me,” Victor reprimanded him. “I just fail to see the exhilaration in being overly adventurous; anything could happen, and one must proceed with caution.”
“But you will come riding with me after breakfast?” Graeme asked. “Please do agree, you know I prefer to ride with you and no one else. Mother and Sister are engaged in other activities, Father is in his study, and I am in the knowledge you do not have any prior engagements, which leaves you quite free.”
Victor couldn’t argue his case any longer.
“Well, I must admit defeat. I suppose I must accommodate your desires. And if that includes riding with you after breakfast, so be it.”
***
“There you are,” Graeme stepped in line with Victor, as he proceeded to the door. “I was wondering what was taking you so long.” His brother grinned.
“I promised I would ride with you, and I shall. As you are very well aware I do not like to disappoint my younger brother.” Even with a foreboding heart, Victor smiled.
A gust of wind nearly waylaid the duke as he mounted his horse, Henry. Graeme laughed. Ignoring him, Victor set up his horse to trot, with Graeme mimicking him. They didn’t converse until they were away from the house and the stables. Victor looked back after a while; the house had disappeared from view.
“This is a lovely day, is it not?” Graeme looked sideways at Victor.
Victor snorted. “A lovely day? I believe not. A lovely day comprises of a sun and of a warm day. Today, I see none of that, but only dreariness.”
“How can you be bothered by the wind and the grey landscape? I simply appreciate the moors more so in this season, I believe there is quite an atmosphere about it.”
“You are a romantic,” Victor teased. “I believe you would be a grand poet if you tried.”
“A poet?” Graeme laughed. “I cannot stand to be locked in a stuffy study or a library with all those periodicals. And how does one have time to read? I am not one to write, as you are aware. I much prefer to be outside and have many adventures like this.”
Victor had no reservation about that. Graeme would like every day to be an adventure if it could be permitted. The last Season, he had a very successful time with the number of dances he acquired with the ladies. Graeme had no intention of settling down, of course, he preferred the enjoyment of it. Victor hoped his brother had not been careless and adhered to social etiquette. He did not wish to hear of a disagreement from any of the ladies he had wooed.
“A penny for your thoughts?” Graeme asked.
“I apologise, I was thinking about last Season and your many escapades.” Victor raised his eyebrows. “Is it correct what I hear from the grapevine?”
“You hear correct, Loxwood!”
“Do you not care for your reputation then, of a confirmed Bachelor? Do you not consider your future at all?” Victor did not mean to be irate, but his brother’s carelessness and fearless antics did gnaw on his mind. As an older brother, Victor wanted nothing more than to protect Graeme’s reputation. He would like him to settle down, have a wife, and a family one day. He wished that for his sister too, but if Graeme did not tame his audaciousness, it could ruin his sister’s future too. And Victor had to protect that at all accounts.
“Loxwood, you are becoming just like our father. I admit I do not care so much about my future. I am quite young and have years to wonder about my future.”
“And what about Clara’s reputation?”
“I am certain our sister will find a suitable man to marry.”
“She will not if you do not heed your actions, Graeme!”
“All right, I hear what you have to say. I promise to be careful hence going forwards. Do not be irate with me, Loxwood. I will be good.”
Victor couldn’t stay angry with his brother for long and Graeme was aware of it. He tipped his head to acknowledge his brother’s agreement, and hoped he would keep his word. They continued riding at a slower pace for a few more minutes, not saying a word. Victor decided to enjoy the mild weather, albeit the strong wind. It was certainly warm and thank goodness it was not bitterly cold as it could be in Yorkshire.
He sometimes wondered why they chose to live in the north of the country, when there was plenty of land in the southern parts. Victor much preferred the Cornish country where the weather was sublime most of the time and the coastal waters were clear as the eye could see. The landscape differed as well. Victor loved Yorkshire, of course, for it was where he was born, but he longed to see more of the south perhaps on his holidays. Suddenly, Graeme exclaimed, pulling him out of his reverie.
“Good heavens, brother, what is the matter?” Victor exclaimed, his pulse quickening.
“Do you find this boresome, Loxwood? We have been trotting every so slowly, I feel it to be tiresome. Let us have some amusement now, shall we?”
“What do you mean?” asked Victor.
Without answering his brother, Graeme kicked his horse’s flank. With a loud neigh, the beast hurtled forward towards the open land, consisting of sloping moors and dirt paths.
“We must not go near the cliffs!” Victor shouted after him as he followed Graeme, urging his horse to go faster. He didn’t want to lose sight of him, wary of what lay ahead.
The Loxwood estate was vast enough to claim parts that bordered perilous cliffs. Many unfortunate people had become victims of those cliffs, a fall ending fatally. He was terrified, if not for himself, but for his brother. A vision of his brother sprawled on his back on the beach below the cliffs… No, no. He could not bear to even think of it!
“Go faster, Henry. Catch up with my brother!”
The horse neighed as if he agreed and galloped on rapidly. The clouds were darkening every minute with no white sky to be seen anymore, the wind becoming stronger. Long grass on the moors flattened as the wind battered it. Victor’s eyes stung and blurred.
“Slow down, Brother!” he shouted.
The words didn’t reach Graeme as they were carried away by the wind. Frustrated, all Victor could do was to try and catch up with his reckless sibling. Ducking his head under overhanging trees, some almost barren in this Autumn season, Victor cursed his brother’s stupidity and his own judgement of the situation. He should have never let his brother persuade him to come out on such a day, and neither should he let Graeme go alone, even if he had insisted. Why was his brother so reckless!
Victor turned a corner, almost colliding with some large rocks. The horse reared on his hind legs, almost displacing his master.
“Woah there!” Victor shouted, patting the horse’s flank. “Be calm.”
Graeme looked ahead and saw his brother disappear. Oh no, he was getting closer to the cliffs, something he didn’t want!
“Come, boy! We must go faster now, we must stop Graeme from getting too close to those cliffs!”
They galloped faster than before, Victor hoping to stop his brother in time. He prayed under his breath to let that be. He was not one for religion, but today, he wouldn’t deny God.
He heard a frightened yell, sending Victor’s heart pounding in his chest.
“Graeme!” As he galloped to the last moor of this part of the estate, he saw Graeme was perilously close to the edge of the cliffs. “Graeme, get away from there!”
Graeme waved at him, laughing, but not slowing down. Then, Graeme’s horse was up on its hind legs, just as Henry was a few minutes ago. Victor dug his heels into his horse, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Something had startled the beast, and it was not controlled. Graeme’s panicked expression drove Victor on, adrenalin rushed through him, every muscle strained. He had to reach his brother, he had to!
Victor grabbed his brother and pulled him onto his own horse, and then grabbed the horse’s reigns. The horse neighed and kicked, sending Henry into a panic. Graeme fell off the back of the horse, but Victor was hurled into the air and landed with a loud thud against some rocks. Pain and blood seeped from his head and face. Victor closed his eyes as everything went dark.
Chapter One
Present day, spring
The sun was warm on his face as he lifted his head towards it. The rays allowed him to forget the last eighteen months, for a small while at least. Victor could think of nothing else, but just feel the warmth, which did not elude hope. It was a blessing on this lovely Spring Day. The garden where he spent a lot of time in seemed to congratulate him on feeling cheerful today, for the many months prior to it did not seem to welcome joy at all.
Victor preferred to be alone and particularly enjoyed his own company. He did not feel the need to make conversation with anyone or feel the need to impress them. It was so quiet here, and he dwelled in the happiness of being in a state of calm and serenity. A wren flew in his midst, settling down on a small tree. It cocked its head and seemed to watch him. How peculiar and how fitting, Victor thought. He studied the bird as it studied him. It was a beautiful creature, certainly. Victor had not been observant much ever since his father died. That was eighteen months ago, but the memory was still etched cruelly in his mind. Victor was enraged that his father left him and his family in such a state. Why did he not correct his mistakes before he left them?
The wren chirped, perhaps it was trying to console him. Victor would never know, of course. But he liked to think the small bird was telling him something good, something that would make him feel and believe all would be all right.
“I wish I had something for you to eat, little bird,” he said. “But I have nothing.”
The bird stared at him a moment longer, and then flew away. Victor wondered if he would see the little bird again. With his arms behind his back, Victor promenaded to the place he spent a lot of time in when he was only a child. It was his secret place in the garden, and he would hide there when he was in trouble or he wanted to be away from his siblings. Only his governess was able to find him, she always knew where he was hiding. Victor yearned to discern her source of knowledge, yet she exhibited no treachery by divulging it to either his mother or his father. She kept his secret. The day she died was one of the few days he wished to forget as it brought him pain and grief even now.
Miss Brown was a most endearing individual. She could do no undue harm, at least that was what he perceived. She was his absolute everything. Alas, Miss Brown fell ill one day and failed to attend her teaching duties.
“She is quite unwell, Victor. Do not be disheartened. I am certain she will be well again soon and resume her duties to teach,” said his mother.
Then the next day, his mother took him to his classroom. Victor knew straight away that she was not coming back, she had died. His mother confirmed his fears, and he cried in her arms for a long time. Much as he never wanted to feel like that again, he did. He could not forgive his father for being so selfish.
“I cannot express my regret anymore, my dear family,” the Duke lay on his deathbed, his skin pale as a ghostly sheet. His eyes withdrawn, his face grave. He was thin as a stick for his illness had taken him mercilessly.
The duke was confirmed with an illness, which had no cure. He would spend his last dying days in his bedchamber, with no relief from the pain. It hurt for Victor to see his father in such a melancholy state.
“Father, you must save your strength. Do not speak and be still,” Clara kissed her father’s hand.
“What I have to say cannot wait, my dear girl.” The duke looked at each one of his family members. “I have not much money left in the bank. We are almost destitute. I regret this, you must believe me.”
“How did this happen?” Graeme asked.
“That is what I am about to tell you. Over the last few years, I began to gamble. I did not spend much, a few pounds every few months. I won a lot of money, and then I became greedy. I wanted more money and began to gamble every week, spending more and more. When I had no more to spend, I borrowed from my friends, some businessmen, and from some undesirables”
There was a collective gasp from everyone. The duke did not seem to notice and he carried on with his explanation.
“They wanted their money back. I could not blame them, of course. I paid them back leaving me with so little money. I believed I could win it all back but I am to be punished for my deeds. I will no longer be able to rectify my shameful spending, and I hope we do not lose this house or the dukedom. My only hope now is that you forgive me.”
But how could he forgive him? There were so many questions Victor wanted answers to. He would not obtain them now, and he was left wondering what would have happened if his father hadn’t become greedy. If he had decided to keep the winnings and invest it wisely.
With a frustrated sigh, he headed back to the house, his shoulders slumped.
“Your Grace is everything all right?” the butler questioned as he walked into the vast hall.
“I am quite all right. Will you leave me be, I wish to be alone,” Victor said.
The butler didn’t raise an eyebrow as this request as it was the norm since Victor’s incident near the cliffs. The butler signalled Victor’s valet to take the duke’s coat.
“Where is Mama?” Victor asked
“I believe in the drawing room with the rest of the family, Your Grace.”
“Very well. Inform them I will join in a while.”
When the hall was empty, Victor sat on a chair and looked around him. The hall was not a pretty sight. The staircase was in a dire state, it needed another paint and polish, the carpets needed replacing because they were quite worn out and sported holes in the fabric. The chandeliers above had lost their sparkle, even with daily cleaning and dusting. Most of the staff were laid off, and only a small handful of maids and footmen were left. The work had doubled for the poor staff, and Victor could do nothing about it. How would he bring in more money? What were their alternatives? Now as the head of the family and the duke of Loxwood, it was his duty to mend the house and do something that the family avoided, which was to discuss their dwindling money matters. With a sigh, he entered the drawing room where he knew his mother and his sister had already gathered for breakfast.
***
“How was your promenade, Brother?” Clara wiped her mouth daintily, and then took a sip of her tea.
As always, she was dressed splendidly, looking very much like a lady should unlike him. These days, he did not seem to care for his own appearance, choosing to stay in the house as much as possible.
“I enjoyed it quite well on this fine day,” Victor tried to sound cheerful.
“I am glad to hear it.”
“Is something wrong?” he asked, taking a seat opposite his mother and sister. Their faces did not express contentment or some joy to his concern. “Pray, do tell, I would like to believe I can help.”
“With Graeme already in London for the Season, the house feels quite cold and lonely. I do miss your father very much and your brother’s mischievous antics. Now you are going to London. What am I and your sister to do here? Perhaps we should accompany you.”
“And you shall as soon as I am settled, Mama.” Victor glanced around the drawing room, which was in the same sorry state as the rest of the house. “You have the household to oversee. Leaving the butler and the housekeeper alone to manage would feel as if you are abandoning them.” Victor took some bread. “The remaining servants are frightened for their futures. The butler told me gravely about this yesterday. They have nowhere to go if they are laid off.”
“Are we laying off more staff, Brother?” Clara asked. “That will not do!”
“I hope we do not have to. I want to talk to Mama and you about our financial burden if I may.” A feeling of discomfort in his stomach did not bode well. But he had to say it.
“Is this the reason of your decision to travel to London? What do you propose to do there?” the Dowager Duchess asked.
“As you are aware, we do not have much money left. This house, which was once a beautiful home, is near to ruins. I cannot believe Father left us in such dire circumstances. So, I have decided to go to London, where I possibly can encourage a wealthy Lady to marry me.”
Victor’s memory of the accident came to the forefront of his mind. It played in his head so many times, but it never dulled or left him be. It tortured him most nights while he tried to sleep, the nightmares vivid each time of his fear of losing his brother fallen off the cliff. When he awoke, he was drenched in sweat. Ashamed of what had become of him, he changed his clothes at two in the morning. He wouldn’t like his valet to see him in such a state. Over the years, since that fateful day, he had retreated from society. He could not meet their eyes as they stared at his much prominent scar.
“Victor?” his mother’s voice brought him back. “Is your head hurting? You do not look well.”
“I am fine, Mama.” Victor smiled. “My wound does not bother me.” And neither do my scars. Which was a lie of course, the pain may not be there anymore, but the scar on his face and the accident had left a scar on his heart.
“Do you think it is wise that you should be going? We only say this as we love you, Brother. We care for your welfare,” Clara placed a hand on Victor’s, reassuring him that everything will be all right.
“That is kind of you, Sister. But I must leave. Our only way out of this financial ruin is to find a wife who has a wealthy dowry.”
But as he said this, a voice inside him sneered.
Do you really believe any woman would desire you, Victor? You are a scarred duke and are responsible for a deteriorating house. The evil laugh echoed in his thoughts. Victor pushed back his chair much to the astonishment of his mother and sister.
“I seem to have lost my appetite. Please excuse me, I have much to prepare before I depart, which will be in a few days.”
***
It was the evening when Victor met his childhood friend, Lord James Rowan, for a game of billiards at the gentleman’s club. He looked forward to it, hoping for some respite from his current concerns. James walked into the games room a few minutes after he arrived.
“Loxwood! How brilliant to see you. It has been a while.” James always managed to bring a smile to Victor’s face, for he was jovial and saw only the good in people.
“How are you, dear friend? I must apologise for my continued absence. But you know why I stray from society.”
“I do. Now, come. Let us play!” said James, placing three balls onto the green fabric of the table. He took a cue and handed one to Victor. “I do enjoy a game of billiards; this is most true when I win.” There was a wicked twinkle in James’ eye.
Victor laughed. “We shall see who the winner is, you forget how I like to win!”
With his cue, he tapped the white ball gently and watched it roll towards the red one, which rolled into one of the pockets. Victor smiled widely.
“I applaud you, Loxwood. I believed you would have lost such a skill.” James took his turn and obtained the same result. The game had truly begun!
The men played for an hour, resulting in Victor to win. James took his loss with grace, and they settled down in the drawing room with a glass of port each.
“I am aware something is bothering you, Loxwood. Am I correct?” James asked.
“You have been by my side from the time we were children, and after my accident, with this scar,” Victor traced his scar with his finger. “You chose to stay my loyal friend. You are close to me as my own brother. When most of the friends I had have unfriended me.”
“Why do you curse yourself by caring what society thinks of you? You do not owe them anything, Loxwood, you should remember that. I will continue to be by your side until I die. Now, what are your intentions going forward?”
“My home is in disarray. You may have heard we are almost penniless after my father used it all?”
“I’m afraid I have heard, and I am sorry to hear of it.”
“We need the house back in order, but that task cannot be fulfilled without any money. I have taken the decision to go to London, in the hope of meeting a lady who would be willing to marry me. She must have a wealthy dowry of course. I am ashamed to take advantage of any woman, to use them for my own selfish purposes. Only, I do not have much choice.”
“I can aid you, dear friend. You do not need to go to such circumstances, surely?”
“And I would happily take your money, James. But it will not be enough, and I will not beg for money from anyone else.” Victor was adamant about that. He didn’t want people to see him as a charitable case, he still had pride in his dukedom, his house, and his family. And he would not let that fall.
“Only I fret, who would take me as their husband? Who will see beyond my disfigurement, and the most obvious of all, is that my dukedom is not worth a penny.”
“Do not lose spirit, Loxwood. There is a lady out there somewhere who will see beyond your scar and your lack of money. She will be your support and will not care for such things. I encourage you to believe that.”
Victor viewed his friend gratefully. He did hope he was right, that he would find the right woman who would love him, even with a scar and not much money. He felt some hope but could not get rid of that persistent feeling of everything going wrong.
Chapter Two
Sitting by the window in the drawing room, Alice focussed on her pencil lines as she sketched her younger sister, Jessica. Immersed in her art, she heard nothing and thought about nothing, only watching the lines turn into an image. When she drew, she was away from the social conventions society required of young, eligible woman who were ready to be married or who had just come out. She did not particular like the idea of marriage, her passion for art was much too important.
Alice preferred drawing figures, the eyes, the nose and mouth, and the contour of the body. Each stroke of her pencil was one step away from the world she wished not to be in. Alice imagined being in Paris where she would like to learn fine art. Would that not be a delight?
Faces were always difficult and she found she was not an expert at it yet. Her mother, Lady Felicity Fairweather, Viscountess of Trellwyn, thought otherwise and always supported her. Alice’s father, Lord Lawrence Fairweather, Viscount of Trellwyn, was wiser and looked at achievement and progress. He walked around to his daughter as she paused, inspecting her work.
“Well Papa, what is your opinion?” she asked.
The viscount observed the work with great care, a pipe in his mouth, “It is coming along dear, but pay attention to the hands, perhaps the eyes.”
“Oh, you can never be happy of her splendid achievements, can you, dear,” the viscountess said from her seat. She walked over to see Alice’s work.
“I see a perfect image and a true likeness of Jessica, even the hands and the eyes. Do not listen to your father, Alice, he does not have an eye for wonderful art.”
“I must disagree. I visit many art galleries to appreciate the work of artists and I truly believe that good criticism brings out the best in one’s work. Alice, continue practising and soon you will become a very skilled artist.” The viscount patted her shoulder. “I will retire to my study now.”
“Oh your father can indeed make me irate. Could he not tell you that your work is most splendid for once?”
“But perhaps Papa is correct, I believe he is guiding me and not giving me false praise. Do you not see that Mama?”
“Yes dear, I suppose.” The viscountess kissed her daughter on the forehead and returned to her sewing.
“Have you quite finished yet? I am becoming fatigued sitting here all that time while Mama, Papa and you are conversing,” moaned Jessica.
“Dearest Sister, I have nearly completed this drawing. All I need from you is a little more patience,” Alice said. “Could you perhaps move your head to the right? I want to catch the light.”
“Very well, but I must say I will want a return,” Jessica said as she obeyed her sister’s instructions. But a moment later, she broke her pose.
“Jessica!”
“I do apologise. But I would like to converse about tonight’s ball. I am prepared to say I am quite excited for it! Lady Sinclair’s ball is most spoken about among the ton, and we all are aware of how grand they are!” It was not difficult to feel Jessica’s enthusiasm.
“I have to agree with you,” Alice laughed. “Everyone is aware of how lavish her balls are, she spares no expense. There is much excitement.”
“I remember Lord Thomas Sinclair was quite keen on your company last Season,” Jessica said with a clever guise.
Alice did not quite favour that experience. The Earl and the Countess of Didsby’s only son, Lord Thomas Sinclair was not in her favour. The man wouldn’t stop asking her to dance, which she found infuriating indeed. He had expressed his interest in her many times, which she had warded off only with an excuse.
“Lord Sinclair is not the man I would want to pursue,” she said. “I do not know where he learnt his manners, but it was not from his mother or father, whom I respect much so. He is conceited and presumptuous. I cannot entertain and encourage a man who is most vain, who believes he himself is important and no one else matters. And he believes he is correct in all topics. His opinions and observations do not impress me at all.”
“Well, that is a long list against the poor man,” the viscountess observed. “He cannot be so terrible, surely?”
“Mother, I prefer not to see this man again this Season, if at all possible. However, he is the son of Lady Sinclair, and so he shall be there.” Alice turned to address her sister. “Jessica dear, please take up your position again so I can complete my drawing of you.”
With a pout, Jessica posed once more. Nothing else was said about the ball or Lord Sinclair. Alice tried to concentrate on her sketching once more, but she could not ignore the feeling that Lord Sinclair would try to engage her again. She hoped he had found a beau he wanted to marry, which would leave her free to enjoy the evening. But if he did pursue her and propose to marry her, would it be for her wealthy dowry or would he be enticed by her heart? Neither seemed favourable to her.
***
Alice watched the streets as they rolled in their carriage towards Lady Sinclair’s ball. It was a fine evening and she did look forward to the entertainment. She only hoped she didn’t see Thomas Sinclair. Jessica sat beside her, quite excited about this evening that she would not sit still.
“Will you be quiet!” Alice reprimanded her. “It is most irritating.”
“Oh, but I cannot,” Jessica said. “Is my dress good enough for tonight? It does not make me seem lowly, does it? It is a Parisian design, can you tell?”
“I came with you to the shop when you ordered it,” Alice reminded her. “Do you not remember that?”
“Of course, I do. My memory is well,” Jessica retorted.
“Quite so,” Alice smiled.
Some children from the village waved as they passed by and Alice waved back.
“Do not encourage them, Alice. We are not royalty,” the viscountess frowned.
“Does it not make the children joyful when we do? For them, anyone riding a carriage is royalty. Those poor people, I feel a sense of melancholy for their situations. I cannot imagine working so hard for money. I am so grateful we have all this wealth, do you not think so, Papa?” asked Alice.
“I believe you are correct. We must set an example to those people and behave with dignity. If they wave to us, we must not lose our place. We must wave back. They will approve of us further more. Are we not the people to offer them employment? Apart from the Duke, I believe we all have a sense of duty in society to perform our roles. It is what divides the upper classes from the lower classes,” the viscount said.
“Speaking of Dukes, I hear the Duke of Loxwood will be in attendance this evening. That would be entertaining, would it not? No one has seen him much for a long time. Ever since the incident near the cliffs, he seems to prefer to hide from society,” the viscountess spoke animatedly.
“I do feel sad for the poor man, of course,” the viscountess carried on. “He was saving his brother from falling to his death, I heard. And he was the one to become disfigured. It is a very sorry state of affairs.”
“I find it unacceptable how the ton talk about his scar in hushed tones, judging his appearance!” Alice was irate. She disliked such behaviour. “It is no wonder His Grace prefers to stay away from society.”
The viscount and viscountess exchanged bewildered looks with one another.
“Do not be irate, Sister. Mama and Papa did mean no harm to the Duke. Besides, why are you upset? You do not know him,” Jessica asked.
Alice chose not to answer and hoped they would arrive soon as her family began a new conversation. She chose to feign ignorance and continued her observations outside of the carriage.
***
Carriages lined the way to the Sinclair’s estate, the footmen opening doors of their wealthy employers. The ones who didn’t own a carriage, arrived in Hackney coaches. Each man and woman wore the richest and most recent fashions of the time. An excited crowd of guests milled into the Sinclair’s home where Lady Maria Sinclair greeted them. The atmosphere was exciting with much exclamations and greetings, the younger daughters comparing dresses, of course, and the sons standing in clusters, watching the ladies, perhaps keen to be a ‘mark’ on their card.
“My dear Fairweathers, it is so good of you to accept my invitation,” Lady Maria Sinclair almost sang. “You look very well. And dear Lady Alice, how beautiful you are today.”
“I am certain she wants you as her son’s wife!” Jessica whispered in her ear.
“Oh dear, I do hope not.” Alice liked Lady Sinclair’s warm and kind demeanour, one rarely witnessed a frown from her. She took the compliment with grace.
“It is lovely to be here, Lady Sinclair,” she said.
As they moved away, Alice looked around her. Lady Sinclair had been thorough in her decorations. Polished metals and chandeliers supported beeswax candles around the house, spreading warm light, mirrors and flowers added to the ambiance of the evening. Lady Sinclair had to be congratulated on this splendid preparation.
As Jessica went away to meet some people, Alice saw her good friend, Lady Penelope Bennet in a corner, conversing with another lady. As she began to approach her, she was interrupted by Lord Thomas Sinclair.
“I hoped to see you today, Lady Alice, and how wonderful you look tonight,” Thomas Sinclair said in an excited manner.
“It is lovely to see you again, Lord Sinclair,” Alice said politely, giving him a smile which did not reach her eyes. “I do hope you have a lovely evening. There seem to be many ladies you could dance with.”
“And I am sure I shall. May I add my name to your card, Lady Alice?”
Reluctantly, Alice opened her card and the man eagerly wrote his name on it.
“How is your art, Lady Alice? Are you still drawing?”
“I… You remember my passion. I am impressed,” Alice said. “I am still drawing. I do not believe I can ever stop sketching.”
“I remember much of what you told me last Season,” Thomas said. “I went to the liberty of ordering a few art supplies for myself after our conversation. I decided to draw this year.”
“It is a splendid hobby. I hope you enjoy it thoroughly.”
Alice was certain his sincerity was false behind his claim to begin drawing. Was it to influence her, so she would accept his acquaintance and allow it to be more? Did he imagine they would be courting by the end of this Season?
A shudder of distaste entered her spine. She had entertained his false claims many times.
“Pray, tell me, what adventures have you had since last Season?” Alice began to promenade around the dance hall, trying to find Penelope, who had seemed to disappear.
“I have taken up riding around the country with fellow acquaintances. I find it most joyful. I have also travelled quite so. My favourite places are France and Switzerland.”
“That is lovely,” said Alice, although she was hardly listening. Where was Penelope?
“I would like to know about your adventures,” said Thomas. “If you would be kind to share?”
“Oh, Lord Sinclair, my adventures do not compare to yours. I am afraid to say I stay at the house and sketch, perhaps visit some friends and have luncheon”
“I see that as noble pastimes, indeed. It is nothing to think less of.”
Alice stopped and turned to face him. “I do not think less of my passions. I prefer to stay at home when I am required to. One’s reputation becomes ruined when she is seen with other men on a regular basis, and without a chaperone.” Alice could hardly stop herself from teasing the man.
Lord Sinclair seemed uneasy. “Indeed,” he replied. “I apologise if I have insulted you.”
“Which you have not,” smiled Alice.
“There you are, Lady Alice, I have been searching for you all around the house,” Penelope stepped in. Alice breathed a big sigh of relief. “Lord Sinclair, I do hope you do not mind taking my good friend away, we have much to discuss. I have something which requires her immediate attention.”
Without waiting for an answer and leaving a rather bewildered Lord Sinclair, Penelope directed Alice to another part of the house. They stopped at the library where it was much quieter. They went inside, thankfully it was not locked, and sat down.
“What became of you? I saw you talking to someone, and before I could reach you, you were gone. I could not avoid Lord Sinclair!” Alice moaned.
Penelope laughed. “I do apologise. I admit I saw you conversing and enjoyed your discomfort. Do forgive me for having a little enjoyment.”
“Oh, I can never be irate with you for long. But I must say, what a devious thing to do. Now tell me, have you many ‘marks’ on your card? Unfortunately, I have Lord Sinclair as my first dance.”
“No, I do not yet. I have been conversing with the ladies, they are most intrigued by the Duke of Loxwood, arriving today. As you are aware, he is hardly seen in society.”
“I do know and I have heard why. I find it difficult to accept society whispering about his disfigurement, why can they not leave him be? The ton, I am afraid to say, are superficial in their views! The poor man does not deserve such scrutiny.”
“Well, I must agree with you, but are you not in the least intrigued to see what he looks like?”
“No, I am not, it seems astonishing, does it not?”
“Well, you are quite different to many of the society belles,” Penelope laughed. “Shall we leave the library? I feel rather parched and am in need for a drink. And I believe the dance will begin very soon.”
The ladies reached the hall when suddenly all become quite. Attention became diverted as a rather handsome man with a prominent scar running from his eye to his mouth, entered the room with his family. Alice stared in admiration at the Duke of Loxwood, and became a little irate as she heard the whispers begin.
As the Duke passed Alice, his eyes locked with hers for a long moment. Alice stared back, unable to look away until Penelope pretended to clear her throat. Alice broke the contact, feeling a little warm on her face.
As the Duke walked past, Penelope teased Alice for her acute observing of the Duke.
“I do not know what you are talking about, Lady Penelope,” said Alice. “Let’s have some refreshment.”
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I enjoyed the review I can’t wait to read the book when it comes out