The Brooding Duke’s Fateful Letter (Preview)

Prologue

1813 –  Devonshire Estate

Henry

The loud, panicked sounds of the horses as they fell to the ground echoed through the cold, night air. The carriage charged into a tree trunk and broke into pieces as the frenzied animals pulled in all directions. The duke felt his body slam into the side of the carriage moments before it crashed down on top of him. 

An eerie silence fell all around him, as the horses broke free and ran into the thick brush surrounding them. He tried to move when the icy realization trickled down his spine. His legs were the only part of him not in complete agony. 

He could not move his legs to get himself to safety. “Help! Can anyone hear me!” 

He cried out in desperation. He had waited in that same position all night and had been found by a kind farmer the next morning. He was cared for, and survived… the duke still used the invalid chair the old man had built for him. 

His family, on the other hand, had not known how to treat him after the accident. The doctor had declared that at the young age of twenty, he would be without the use of his legs. What was more, his father had just passed, and he had taken on all his responsibility as the new duke. He at least had the love of a good woman. At least he had been convinced of it at the time. But the wealthy heiress had taken one look at her bedridden husband-to-be and had walked out on him. 

Family visited less frequently—the duke felt all but abandoned. He began to announce affair after affair just to have company. As time went on, an invitation to one of The Duke of Devonshire celebrations had become most cherished.

Chapter One

1819 – Devonshire Estate

Henry

Sixteen years later

The excited murmurs could be heard while guests made their way up the stone walkway to the proud, modern, white painted stucco façade of the main house. 

Laughter and chatter filled the air as ladies found their friends.

“Darling, you look wonderful, silk always suits you.”

“Thank you, my dear. Don’t think I haven’t noticed those diamonds.” Two ladies gave each other the lightest of embraces as to not ruin their make up.

 Their fashionable gowns made of light material suited the particularly warm evening. The men stood nearby hoping to get inside the dining area for a refreshment. 

“Do you believe we stand a chance of having a drink before it has all been drunk?” Baron Sylvester Tweed remarked to his companions in a whimsical manner.

“I like to think so,” Edward Sternwood replied dryly.

The third, Lord Benjamin Wells said nothing, but the duke watched him as the man’s gaze wandered through the garden. Wells was known to enjoy large parties—as they allowed him the opportunity to prey on any unmarried ladies. 

The duke observed him, and frowned. The man was smiling to himself as he stared over at a ravishing young lady with clear emerald eyes, ones that seemed to create an almost immediate fascination. The duke knew the man was just waiting for his opportunity.

The balmy wind carried harp music out to greet every new arrival to the estate. The large entertainment area, which started outside and continued far into the main house, had nearly a hundred people scattered around, immersed in hushed conversations. The servants had made sure that every surface gleamed as brightly as the silverware nearby. The large dining table was being set as more and more people arrived. The white tablecloth was almost blinding in its unblemished splendor.

Whenever the duke announced a dinner, it became of utmost importance to be on the guest list. Not being invited meant you were not even worth speaking to in most social circles. That evening was all about romance. He had arranged that particular party even though he was quite against the notion of love. He had yet to experience the euphoria described by his peers or find reason to believe a woman would want him for more than his money. 

He had finally regained his ability to walk, though it took years. He had worked tirelessly to regain his mobility. Only to be crippled by the fear that a woman would never stay by his side in his condition. She had to take him as he was or not at all. 

The duke looked toward the guests of honor. The Smith brothers had met a pair of sisters and had courted them at the same time. When the time had come, they had found themselves ready to marry. When word had gotten around that not only one but both Smith brothers were engaged, the town was alight with joy. The Smiths were a rare combination of wealth and good-heartedness. They created hundreds of jobs in a time where men had fought for work daily. The entire town wanted to celebrate, and the duke would oblige. 

Though most would not be invited to the ball, they would eat well. For some a gift more precious than the newest silk gown. 

Carriages continued to pull up to the entrance. Dukes, barons… even a prince had made his way from the east to attend. The mere extravagance of a ball hosted by the duke would draw out the most interesting selection of people. 

The atmosphere made every guest want to smile. The looks of adoration shared between the two couples made all who greeted them swoon. The warm weather meant the guests could dance outside under the stars. Married couples could be seen holding hands again, reminded how falling in love had felt.

They arrived in attire that boasted how much they were willing to spend to stand out. The men wore suits made from the finest cotton and silks, while the women seemed to compete regarding who could dress in the most opulent gowns, and have the most outlandish hair styles.

“Where on earth did she find that!”

“Must be lovely to have such style.” Murmurs of both compliments and judgments could be heard among the guests. 

Those who favored themselves to be almost royalty would arrive last, and many a time late. 

Inside, groups of people stood together sipping on the best wines in the duke ‘s collection and comparing fortunes.

“Well it was only going for a few thousand. How could I not? It suits my hunting room rather well,” one lord scoffed.

“If you must have it then why ever not?” his wife said with a laugh. The rest of the group joined in, humoring her. The duke listened with half an ear, and sighed. It was always the same.

Tonight was a night where the magic of love was celebrated. Every guest had a smile on their face as they bragged of newly acquired land or paintings. All were having a jubilant time, all except the very man who had arranged the dinner. 

Henry VI, The Duke of Devonshire looked the very definition of melancholy. Although the perfect host, the duke was not as deeply in conversation as his guests. He was seated as he always was and had by now convinced himself that he was content that way.

Henry was the host, and a duke, and yet he was the only person in the room who didn’t have a partner. He had no idea what all these people had that he did not. Though being surrounded by all the company helped him feel more part of life, he was always struck with even worse loneliness than before. 

“I do really appreciate this Your Grace!” said James Smith to the duke, one of the brothers who had asked his beloved to be his bride.

“Not at all James. You found love. It should be celebrated.” Henry meant it.

“Thank you, Your Grace. For this and for… well keeping things quiet about…”

“You are a gentleman James, and I have known you for years as such. I don’t see any reason your reputation should be tarnished. Least of all if you take up your responsibility as any decent man should.”

James nodded and excused himself to join his brother. The bell chimed on the large wooden clock and everyone fell quiet. They all moved into the dining hall after the clock had chimed seven times and the kitchen staff had opened the doors that led from the entertainment area into the dining hall. 

Henry sighed. I wanted to make it to the dining hall before everyone. As usual I let conversation distract me. 

He chastised himself for not paying close attention to his surroundings. He deeply disliked being the center of attention.

He did make it before most, at least, saving himself from being a full spectacle.

I swear they all love coming here and having me as entertainment, the duke thought as his guests watched him expectantly. 

He stayed seated as the other guests entered the dining hall.

 I would stand to greet them, if only every single one of them didn’t believe I were incapable of doing so. At least not without the aid of several servants. 

If only they knew…

Henry caught sight of his reflection in the large mirror that almost covered one side of the wall. He looked tired even to his own eyes. His dark hair was well groomed but a few loose hairs at his temple made him look slightly deranged.

Once the guests were all seated, the soup was brought out. The duke stared at the offending liquid as it was placed before him. The unnatural yellow paste did not have much of a smell to it, and the duke took a small spoonful to taste, confirming its blandness. He glanced around at the other guests who started eating after him. He would have admired their convincing murmurs if their fakery didn’t test his temper. 

“Rather good, isn’t it?” Louisa said softly. Seated directly to his right, his sister was one of the few people he was glad to see there tonight. The dim lights from a table behind them made her light blonde hair glow. 

It may also be due to the fact that she’s expecting. Delightful news that I will get to at least have a niece or nephew that I can see grow into an adult. The duke lost himself in melancholy thought again.

“Hmmm, yes, delightful.” He said lifting the spoon to his lips but barely eating any. Her gloved hand flew to her mouth to conceal a giggle. He smiled at her with the first genuine smile he had all evening. She beamed up at him with the same warm brown eyes that he had. A keepsake from their father who passed only three years prior.

A finer duke than the one I make, he thought bitterly.

“Are you free tomorrow? There’s something I wish to discuss with you.” Louisa said, interrupting his musings.

“If it’s about what I think it is, then no I’m not free,” Henry said with a smirk.

“Henry, it’s time. You would do well to find yourself a proper wife. The lack thereof is evident every time I enter the estate, she replied with a worried look.

“You mean there aren’t six children running around the place?” 

“What I mean, dear brother, is that I fear you aren’t properly taken care of, and you never leave the grounds anymore. There isn’t a whisper of a woman’s touch to be seen anywhere,” Louisa said with a caring tone.

Just like the gardens and rooms, I too haven’t felt the touch of a women’s hand in mine for years! The duke was glad his thoughts were not easily revealed in his words.

“That is my own choice. Why does it concern you so?” Henry asked with a bit more care.

“I just want you to be as happy as I am,” she said with a tinge of sorrow that tugged at his conscience. 

“I know. Sadly, as you must know, most woman crave a man who can actually walk.” Louisa looked at him with a look of pure pity. 

I know she means well but I dislike being pitied, he thought. Especially since it’s completely unwarranted. Not only can I walk… but I can run. 

He stared down at his untouched plate. Mercifully the soup was taken away and the first course of roast lamb and vegetables were served. The seared meat was the perfect hue of dark brown. Steam danced away from the plate meaning it had been prepared and plated immediately, still piping hot. 

Rosemary and sweet mint assailed his senses as he waited for everyone to be served. He cut a small piece of meat and scooped some of the vegetables and gravy along with it onto his fork. The tartness of the tomatoes went well with the fatty meat. The herbs and spices he had noticed earlier were more pronounced by salt and notes of pepper.

He struggled to keep his eyes open as he appreciated how well the soft, perfectly prepared meat seemed to melt in his mouth and made his stomach sing with relief. 

He took another bite as he cast his eyes around the room. All the guests were merrily eating, except for the two couples seated near the head of the table on opposite sides. The four people in question were his newly engaged friends. 

They were the reason everyone had gathered that night. 

I would have preferred not to get involved. It would unfortunately be very unbecoming if I were to not celebrate my friends and their happy news. I only wish I could ever stand a chance like they do. The duke struggled to swallow his food suddenly.

I have little recollection of how many times their brides-to-be have lifted their left hands to gasps of admiration. I’m so happy for them, though it does look rather cumbersome. Misery clouded his thoughts.

They had not touched the soup and seem similarly uninterested in the next course. 

It would appear that love sates all one’s needs, even hunger! I do wish I had a better distraction to have saved me from the soup as well, or do I? What women would want to be troubled by the likes of me? A man who can do nothing but sit and lay down? A man who won’t be able to give a woman the family she craves? The heir I need? My entire bloodline will be erased from history! 

The duke, feeling true panic grasp him, tried to clear his mind. The alternative is to show that I’m not those things. No, then I open the doors to fortune hunters. I want a woman who would still love me if it happened again, and the effects were permanent.

He could hardly enjoy the food he had relished just mere moments earlier. The next four courses that followed were the same. It appeared he had as little appetite as the lovebirds, only for a much more unsavory emotion, envy.

He leaned back to look longingly through the open door that led out into the gardens. He would have to make it through the tiresome evening before he could be alone and free.

When the meal was finally over, the men joined the duke for a glass of fine, aged, Port and a cigar while the ladies enjoyed their tea. The looks of sympathy as he was helped into his chair were plain on the faces of his peers. It enraged him. His invalid chair did not fit under the table. In order to go from room to room, the duke was helped in and out of his dining chair.

He was just about to enter the smoking room when he looked in the direction of the ladies tea room. He watched a man speaking to a much younger lady. He recognized Lord Wells and knew this unfortunate young lady might soon find herself victim to his advances. 

Lord Wells reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The young lady recoiled from him. She most obviously did not want his attentions. It was more than enough to prompt the duke into action.

Chapter Two

Henry

“I say Lord Wells,” the duke said. Lord Wells turns to face the duke, red-faced. “Join us for a drink. would you?” Lord Wells silently nodded.

Lord Wells trained his face into a smile and followed the duke to where the other gentlemen waited. The young lady smiled, and the duke was lost to everything but her. He felt a joy bubble within him as she approached him. He smiled knowing that this remarkable woman would only want to express her gratitude. To ever attempt to court her would be met with the same disgust as what Lord Wells had just received. Before he could find out, Lady Wells came to fetch the young woman. The duke wondered if she knew what her husband had been up to.

“Your tea is getting cold and if you don’t come now you know Baroness Du Plessis will finish every confectionery.” Lady Wells spoke from behind the vision of a women. 

If only you had come to look for her sooner. I may have just saved their marriage by getting Lord Wells away from her. I’m not sure it pleases me. The duke thought as he searched for the words to address this vision before him. 

“Dear?” Lady Wells said to her husband.

“I was just about to join the duke for a drink.” He said choosing his words carefully.

“See that you do.” Lady Wells responded and turned to join the young woman.

He watched as the beautiful woman walked away from him. Every fiber of his being wanted to leap from his chair to go after her. The moment he set eyes on her he felt everything around him stop. Her gaze went to him, and he could not breathe. Her clear green eyes were a shade of green he had not seen before. They held him fixed in place as he took in her appearance. She was not only pleasant, she had a beauty that exceeded any other. She had moved toward him with grace, her blonde hair and petite frame had the duke believing she was absolutely magical. And she had not even spoken a word to him. 

The door to the tea lounge shut, and only then did the spell break and he was free to move on. He was helped to his seat and took his glass into his hand. A man servant came closer to present the bottle to him. He took a grateful sip and held out his glass for more.

He looked to those he would call his dearest acquaintances. 

They were nowhere to be seen when I needed them. Cecil and Reginald aside, the others need reward to keep my company. The moment I promise food and drink, here they all are. 

Even though he had forgiven his family and even the woman who had left him, bitterness still crept in.

“And here are our next two victims of marriage now,” the duke said when the two recently engaged men came closer to have a word

“I’m afraid so Your Grace.” George replied. His brother nodded politely.

“Well done. I believe you have found a wonderful companion,” the duke said, truly happy for him.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” He replied and there was a moment where silence enveloped their conversation. 

“So old boy, when will it be your turn?” Tristan said as he settled his tall frame into an antique armchair. He raked his hand through his sandy blonde hair and narrowed his blue eyes. He and the duke had known each other since they could walk. Where many parents would strive for their offspring to have friends, this was more of an early start to making heir social status known. If one could visit a duke, then you would make it known. Tristan had wanted for nothing. That is except wanting to best the duke in every way possible.

“My turn for what, old chum?” Henry asked in mock cheerfulness, not caring to hide all the venom in his voice. It was said in order to warn Tristan, who as per usual enjoyed pushing boundaries.

“Marriage of course.” He answered with a smug smile. 

The duke refused to show any emotion, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten under his skin. If he were to retaliate it would seem childish in front of his guests.

He looked to his two friends that he could trust. Whom he wished he could tell the truth to. Reginald had protected him when Henry’s smaller frame had attracted bullying in his youth. He was the man the duke called upon when he felt enticed to have a drink at an establishment. Cecil was born into the finance industry and had as such offered true advice as well as friendship. Tristan made it into their company by being a Lord, where as Cecil and Reginald made it there because the duke trusted them… as he did family.

“I’m way too rich. It puts women off,” Henry said jokingly.

“Puts women off!” Reginald remarked almost spitting his drink onto the floor. “Please show me these women, mine are making me poorer by the day.” The room erupted into laughter and the duke smiled knowing he had avoided the topic.

“Was a carriage incident wasn’t it?” Tristan said loudly enough for everyone to put their focus back on him. 

What the hell is he playing at! Henry thought, as his temper got the best of him.

“That did what?” He asked as calmly as he could.

“Well…” Tristan said at least having the good taste to motion toward the duke’s legs and not bluntly state the obvious. 

“That’s quite enough Tristan,” Cecil said, and stood up to walk toward him. Tristan got up from his chair and the men’s bodies were now inches apart.

“Cecil, men of a lower standing shouldn’t interfere when two gentlemen are having a conversation.” Tristan said looking down at him.

“I see only one gentleman, and the other a fiend that will find himself going home sooner this evening,” Cecil responded and put his hands into his trouser pockets.

That isn’t a good sign. It looks like he’s relaxed but in truth he’s coiled like a snake, just waiting for the right moment to strike. What do I do if this turns into a physical altercation?

Henry worked out all manners of how it could play out in his mind and did not like any of them.

“Gentlemen calm down. Cecil, I appreciate the gesture though it’s no secret. I was involved in an accident that could have taken my life. Instead it took my legs and is a far fairer price. No woman would want me. So to answer your question Tristan. I do believe the sea will dry up before I’m wed,” Henry said, and gestured for more drink.

Cecil took a seat before Tristan, who saw even that as a victory and took a sip of Port before looking at the duke smugly.

 I have no inclination as to why he dislikes me so. Since we were children, he has taken joy in my misery. The fact that I would be alone without a wife drives him to pure ecstasy. It’s almost as though my accident is his favorite topic. One has to wonder why. The duke’s busy mind tries to work out the solution.

The duke choked down the remaining contents of his glass and bid everyone a good evening. They do the same as he sent someone to let the women know the time to leave had come. The duke went to bid his sister farewell, and to perhaps catch a glimps of the beautiful woman who had gone off with Lady Wells.

“Thank you for having us.” Louisa said before she made her way home.

“Not at all dear sister,” Henry said to her with a smile. He gave her husband, standing beside, her a nod. The overweight, spoiled little man had never impressed the duke, who had certainly not seen the man as a proper match for his sister. 

Love truly must be blind, the duke thought unkindly.

“There is one more thing,” Louisa said. “We are going away for a few weeks, to Naples. I will come see you the moment we return.”

“How lovely. Make sure to write to me once you arrive,” the duke said happily.

“I shall. I love you.” Louisa said bending down to kiss him on the cheek.

“I love you, too, dear sister. Goodnight.” The duke replied with a smile.

Once the guests had all left, and his butler had reported as such, the duke felt safe enough to get out of his chair. He got up from his chair and stretched his aching muscles. He moved to the large open window and watched as their carriages left the gate. The large moon lit the roads ahead and made them visible from afar.

He felt the tension in his shoulders melt as they got further away.

 The less I see of people the more I feel like myself. Most of them just come to see the crippled duke. Some out of pity and some out of duty—many come because of both. 

He banished all self-pity from his mind as he wondered if there was a women who would take him as their husband. He strolled around the study and looked for a book to keep his mind better occupied. One book stood out. He took it from the shelf to inspect the dusty, forgotten collectible.

Ah yes! This was given to me by Lord Wentworth. A truly kind man and…Wait! All those years back he made a promise to me. Now would be the perfect time to claim it! 

He moved to the nearby writing desk and searched for his ink and quill. He found it neatly packed on top of a few pieces of parchment. He brought a candle closer for better light and started penning his urgent letter. His practiced, steady handwriting was shaky as his nerves got the better of him. 

 

Dear Lord Wentworth

I hope this letter finds you well. I’m writing to you concerning the matter of a promise made to me by you several years prior.

I trust that you will hold your end of our agreement and would like to arrange to see your daughter and you as soon as is possible. I look forward to seeing you soon as my guest at Devonshire estate.

Henry Morehead

Duke of Devonshire

 

He made his way to the door and called for the footman nearby to take the letter to the Wentworth Estate. 

“Prepare a horse and leave as soon as possible. This letter is urgent and must reach its destination quickly.” The man nodded before departing to complete the task. 

A wild excitement took hold of the duke as the wait for Wentworth’s reply began 

It’s as good as done. 

A Lord cannot go back on his word. Pity the only women who would indeed have me, would be my wife by force. It doesn’t feel right. Even though this was a solemn promise, I’ve never forced a woman to do anything. It feels terribly ungentlemanly.

I am going to do my best to make her feel welcome here. Perhaps in time she will grow to like me. Perhaps she will even forgive me. 

The duke’s’s thoughts once again spun around wildly. 

The thought of all those who took pity on him attending his wedding gave him great pleasure. As the daughter of a lord, the luxury she is accustomed to would be available to her still.

She will share my title and home. One I truly hope will be a happy one, he thought sadly.

The duke’s parents had stayed together to avoid becoming a spectacle. They would have been frowned upon from both society and the church had they not. No, it had been unthinkable. Their childhood had as a result been filled with spite and tension. He had made a promise to himself when one of their fights had gotten particularly unpleasant.

I will never settle for anything but true happiness. True love.

He tried to sleep but his mind was frantic as realization dawned. The reality of what he had written in that letter, of what he was getting himself into, made his stomach move uneasily. 

This was a foolish idea. I have to stop that man from delivering the letter!

“The footman has just left… he cannot be that far away yet,” he said to an empty room. He rushed to the stables to have a horse prepared. Three men hurried to get the saddle in place. He mounted the horse and galloped toward where he had sent the man. 

I know if I’m found then my secret will be found out. There’s little I can do now to rectify that. I’m closer to where the man should be than home. Besides its better to take a small risk than to make the biggest mistake of my life!

Chapter Three

Charlotte 

Charlotte was a romantic who knew how cruel the world could be at times, yet chose to always have a sunny disposition. On this day, a conversation that was difficult not to overhear, would challenge her unwavering smile. She was simply on her way to get her book when her stepmother’s unpleasantly high voice rang from the main sitting room.

“What does it say?” Lady Wentworth asked her husband.

“Allow me to read the letter so that I may tell you.” Lord Wentworth replied as calmly as he could.

“It’s from The Duke of Devonshire. It’s about the promise I made to him years back.”

“What promise?” She almost hissed at him.

“That he could marry Bethany. It’s been years, I would have thought he would have found a wife by now. Also it was long before the accident. Bethany won’t accept this.” He replied.

“Then that’s the end of that.” She said folding her arms.

“No, don’t you see? I can’t go back on my word. It would disgrace our lineage.”

“I’ve got it,” she replied waving her hand in the air.

“What have you got?” he asked hopefully.

“We send Charlotte in her stead. They look so similar, he won’t remember what Bethany looked like in detail.” Lady Wentworth’s reply was smug.

Charlotte wanted to scream. 

Would my father really agree to this? The thought made her panic.

“We can’t do that!” Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief at her father’s words. 

“And why not?” Her stepmother’s tone was rather nasty.

“She’s younger than Bethany, and…” Her father said.

“And she will do perfectly,” her stepmother countered.

“I know she’s not your child, but that does not mean you should treat her differently,” he said with a warning in his voice. 

“Bethany won’t marry… a man like him.” 

“That’s unkind.” Charlotte heard the disapproval in his voice. “It had been such an untimely accident. Do you know the duke had just about to be wed to one of the most influential families known to modern society, only to find himself so egregiously injured by so much all at once.”

“Tis the truth. Then what do you suggest, love? Take away the only real chance Charlotte will ever have? That would be cruel. I care for her future.” 

“I cannot make a decision like this hastily,” he told his wife. 

“You had better decide soon. Or I will send Charlotte myself,” she warned.

Charlotte watched as her stepmother came out of the room before her father had the opportunity to say any more. He followed his wife, and when she turned to face him, she graced him with her best performance. Charlotte had seen her become ill and faint so many times to get her way, this was no different. 

She had been only eight when her mother had been murdered. The man who did it walked free while Charlotte was in a prison of grief. Her father had remarried when she was only ten years of age. Her stepmother had shared in her older stepsister’s dislike of her. She could have seen it as nothing else when they had made her their servant in her father’s absence. It would have been nice if they at least liked her. 

“You look unwell my beloved. I apologize to have upset you so.” He said with concern.

She did not correct him.

“I should make it through yet another of your mistakes,” she replied dramatically.

“I will send Charlotte in Bethany’s stead. My only condition is that the courtship last a month. I don’t want her stuck with a man she is incompatible with.”

“That is wonderful news my love. You will soon see that this is all for the best,” she said sounding well recovered.

“I hope you are correct. Although I did make a promise, there’s something that feels out of place.” 

Charlotte put her hand over her mouth to conceal her sobs. She felt betrayed that her father would not choose her over that woman. 

I won’t do it, I just won’t! I don’t care how unfashionable or unreasonable it is. I will marry for love. And what does ‘a man like him mean’? What kind of monster are they sending me away to! Charlotte thought as she made her way to her room. This was not the twenty-fifth birthday present she had hoped she was getting the following month!

***

Henry

The duke rode as quickly as what was fair to his horse. But the letter had found The Wentworth Manor in good time and he could merely stand there and watch his destiny sealed before his eyes. He watched as the letter was handed over to a servant at the door. His response was to seize the letter and leave. His body however stood rigid as a statue. 

He turned to make the long journey back home. By carriage it would take two days and two nights. With a horse and rider it could almost be halved. 

“Your Grace, the main way back to the estate is rather well traveled today.” The duke’s usual traveling companion, Byron, told him. He had been informed of the duke’s whereabouts and had immediately gone to find him. He was one of the few men that knew the duke’s secrets. It had been out of necessity in order to move outside the estate. Byron was a man twice the duke’s age. He wore a well-groomed mustache while the duke found it an annoyance to have any facial hair. 

“Then what route shall we take?” the duke enquired.

“That is the hindrance, Your Grace. The only other way is a rather perilous one. Those who have used it say thieves are around every corner and that the path is overgrown,” Byron replied.

“Could we not just move away from the path in order to avoid other people traveling?” 

“Yes, Your Grace. I just fear that we might not be able to conceal your identity very well.” Byron said carefully.

“It would have been better to have come with the carriage,” said the duke.

“Indeed Your Grace,” Byron said with a sigh.

The duke looked down for a moment and then nodded. They took the path that few would, let alone a duke. The path looked like any other though it did have a strange silence to it. They went well into the evening before they decided on a place to rest for the night. The next morning, they set out again. They were barely an hour into the voyage, when it seemed trouble was ahead. 

The duke rode ahead and saw three men stealing from another carriage. His hand went to his waist where he kept his pistol. It was something he did not travel without. 

“Stop! What you are doing.” The duke said as he pointed his pistol in the direction of the three men. They looked at each other and sneered.

“What are you and that little pistol going to do? We would not want you to dirty those fancy boots, would we boys?” the one man said to his two laughing companions. 

“I believe the gentleman asked you to make your departure,” Byron said as he came to stop his horse next to the duke’s. The three men looked at each other and went to draw their weapons. The duke was faster and shot the gun from one man’s hand and shot another grazing his shoulder. Byron disarmed the third. They surrendered and left as quickly as their shaking legs could carry them. Then one of them turned back for a moment.

“I thought your face looked familiar,” he yelled from a distance away.”

“We do not know one another,” the duke yelled back.”

“Perhaps Henry Morehead, Duke of Devonshire, yet I know who you are. It seems as though you have made a miraculous recovery. It also seems this knowledge is somewhat of a secret.” 

The duke went after him without hesitation, but the men knew the path better and managed to escape quickly. 

“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.