The Duke's Ugly Duckling: Regency Romance (Regency Fairytale Romance Book 2) Page 3

  The two had met just before dinner and after their satisfactory meeting, Stewart had been invited to a banquet that evening, before he left for home the next day. It was true what they said, home is where the heart is. He was honest enough to admit that it wasn’t just the thought of his seeing his daughter again that made him want to go home, but her nanny as well.

  Monica had been dead for four months and Florence had begged him to speak to Rhoda and ask her to never leave them. Stewart felt that it was selfish since the woman had been with them for nineteen years. She had worked one year as a scullery maid, and when Florence was born, had become the child’s personal maid, slowly turning into her tutor and nanny. When Rhoda joined the household she was fourteen years old, and now she was thirty four and had devoted her life to taking care of Florence.

  Many times he had wondered why she never asked to leave, like a number of the other servants did, especially the female ones who were going to get married and begin families of their own. He was just glad she had stayed with Florence because his daughter had turned into a fine young woman because of the woman who had taken the place of her mother.

  Stewart was a man who liked peace and quiet and the lavishness of the banquets and balls thrown at the court were too much for him, so he found himself wandering around the vast palace, if he could call it that. Gaming was going on in different rooms, and according to one newspaper, it was like this every day of the week, all year long. Being someone who was used to hard work, he wondered how people could sit around and do nothing but eat, drink and indulge their carnal desires.

  He got to the end of the corridor and saw a small alcove which seemed to be empty. It was hidden away, and he felt that it would be the ideal hiding place, at least for now. As he sat there and thought about his daughter, he wondered what was going to happen to her in the future. The thought had been troubling him for a long time and he finally decided that the thing to do would be to find her a husband, a man who would be kind enough not to reject her because of her disfigured face.

  Stewart knew that as a wealthy man, he could get any man for his daughter. The only problem would be that they would be marrying her for her money and not because they loved her or wanted to get to know her inner beauty. And that was something he wasn’t going to stand for. He had married Monica because he loved her and he wanted the same for Florence. A man to cherish her and make her feel special, and let her know that she was beautiful in spite of the ugly scars on her face.

  “I tell you, that man has suffered so many misfortunes. If I was him, I would have tossed myself into the Thames and let the river carry me away,” a voice that Stewart recognized as Percival Worthington, a broke earl who often hung around the court, hoping to meet a rich widow or heiress to support his rich tastes.

  “Percy, you’re a weak man, no wonder that you are almost fifty and have never married,” Graham Toller, another hanger-on said. He was the third son of a Duke and carried the title of baron, but the Regent had a strange liking for him, so he was always to be found at the court. “Not all men think of killing themselves when things go badly for them. Or else the world would be depleted of men.”

  “But I tell you Graham, if I was Lord Errol, I would never have agreed to go to war in France.”

  “Some men are more noble than others, Percy. The man is a skilled surgeon and he had to go and serve his country, taking care of our soldiers. That is a man who deserves to be knighted.”

  “That I don’t dispute, but while he was away, his parents and wife died, his estate fell to ruins. And what is worse, his right hand got shot right through. So he cannot work anymore, the nerves in his hand are dead and there was even talk of it being amputated. And all for what?”

  “Percy, misfortunes often befall people. They don’t just have to give up.”

  “But in Albert’s case, his is downright tragedy. Spent too much money and now he has nothing and has retired to Whittington to live out the rest of his life as a recluse. Poor fish, I say. This war was really hard on the likes of Albert.”

  Albert was drawing water from the well at the back of the manor when he thought he heard hoof beats out in the front courtyard. He shrugged, being alone and living in isolation sometimes made a man begin imagining things. Nobody ever came to the manor, and even if anyone was to come, it wouldn’t be someone with a horse and carriage.

  He finished drawing water and carried the wooden pail towards the dower house, and came to a standstill. For right there in front of him, was a magnificent carriage, only the kind that would be driven by some noble. A man stepped down from the carriage and walked towards him.

  “Pardon me, my lord,” Stewart said. “I recognize you from the portrait that hangs in the Regent’s gallery.”

  “Much good that does anyone,” Albert said with a laugh. He put the pail down. “I would shake hands but I have been indulging in some manual labour and they are quite soiled.”

  “Nothing on this earth beats a hardworking man, and it would be an honour to shake your hand, my lord.”

  Albert smiled at the soft spoken man, looking into his eyes to see if he was mocking him. The openness and warmness made him immediately take to the man and he stretched out his left hand and shook hands with him. “I am at a bit of a disadvantage here. You obviously know who I am, but I don’t have the same honour.”

  “Would you permit me to walk with you?” Stewart easily picked the pail up and waited for Albert to lead the way. “My name is Stewart Knightley, and I come from Dover.”

  “Still have no idea who you are, my kind sir.”

  “You will, in due course. I believe that servants should be treated with kindness and respect, but there are matters that shouldn’t be discussed in front of them. In that way, masters and mistresses will keep their honour.” As Stewart said this he stared pointedly at his footman.

  “My sentiments, exactly.” Albert opened the door to the house and preceded Stewart. “Pardon the dust and untidiness. I’m trying to do all I can to make this house habitable, so that I can live out my days in peace and quiet. I’m sure you know who I am and probably the misfortunes that befell me, for the whole of London must be talking about it.”

  “Indeed a few are, but only to sympathize with you. Many hold you in high esteem even with whatever has gone on. A few are baffled that you would refuse the help of the Regent to set you up.”

  “Prince George cannot go around resettling all who were affected by the war. There are pensions to be paid, rebuilding to be done and so much more. I have an estate and I’m able to get by, so a humble life is my lot and portion for the rest of my life.”

  “Which is the reason I have come.”

  “If you don’t mind, I was brewing some tea, would you like a cup?”

  “We can do it together, if you will just lead the way.”

  By the time the two men had made some tea and sandwiches, they were chatting like old friends. They had sized each other up, finding that they respected each other.

  “I don’t want to take up much time because it’s a long drive to Dover. But I come to you with a proposition.”

  “Which would be?”

  7

  A Most Noble Man

  Albert stared at Stewart, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I have brought up my daughter with the help of a nanny, from when she was born. Florence was always a happy child, with a big heart and very obedient. Many of the things we made her do, she did with blind obedience, never once questioning the decisions we made on her behalf.”

  “She sounds like a wonderful young woman. How old is she?’

  “She turned eighteen six months ago, and four months ago I lost my wife, her mother.” Stewart took a deep breath. “From the moment Florence was born, her mother rejected her, shunning her for the whole of her life. Monica wouldn’t come near our daughter, not even once. So Florence grew up living in the same house with a mother who never once expressed a desire to see her.”

  “But why?”

/>   “My daughter was born with a harelip, and that was imperfection according to my wife. It was sad because to me she is the most precious girl on this earth. Over the years I would hear of different treatments for the defect and take my child to London, spending a considerable amount of money, but none of the doctors restored her face. If anything all it did was give her more ugly scars on her upper lip. When Florence turned fifteen I felt she had had enough so I stopped seeking further treatment.”

  “That must have been hard for a young girl, seeing herself with all those scars.”

  “We didn’t have mirrors in the house, except of course in my wife’s bedroom. Florence never saw her own reflection until the day her mother died, when she was eighteen. It was a great shock to her and for a while I thought I would lose her too.”

  The deep emotion in the older man’s voice told Albert that he was dealing with a father who loved his daughter very much. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Well,” Stewart laughed briefly. “I didn’t come here to talk about my family tragedies. As I said, I have a proposition for you. On my way in I saw that you have a lovely home, and it could be well kept if only you had the means. And given the life that you have chosen to live after your accident, I believe you and I could come to an agreement, if you’re willing.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I won’t lie to you, Florence’s face is badly disfigured, but other than that she is a normal young woman in every way. Even though the doctors weren’t able to remodel her face, at least one of them enabled her to speak and eat normally, not like before.” Stewart looked at Albert but he said nothing. “My proposition is that you take my daughter as your wife, and she comes with a very large dowry, for I am a man of considerable means. The Lord has been good to me over the years and all my businesses are flourishing and quite successful. As part of her dowry, I will commission contractors to restore this lovely dower house and the two of you can live here while you restore the manor. I will also pay the wages of three servants to take care of all your needs, until you restore your estate to what it once was.”

  Albert bowed his head, thinking about what Stewart was proposing. What did he have to lose anyway? This man looked like a good father who was concerned about his daughter’s future, and he was offering him a way out of the dismal life he was now living.

  “On the birth of your first child, I will add to the dowry, so you will never have to struggle financially until you are able to sort all your affairs out. That is the proposition that brought me from Dover.”

  “Why did you think of me?”

  “I was in the Regent’s court a few nights ago and, since I’m not nobility, people hardly ever pay attention to me. That enables me to move around and I hear things. Many people spoke of your integrity and courage, and I decided that you are a man worth speaking to. If you should agree to my proposition, I know that you would never hurt my daughter in any way. However, you need to see her before you make up your mind. As a father, I’m biased when it comes to Florence and whereas people see disfigurement, I see a beautiful child, a gift given to me by the Lord Almighty. I won’t put the burden of your deciding on you right now, but I won’t think any less of you should you decide that you’re not interested in what I have to say.”

  “Nanny, what do you think of Papa’s idea?” Florence was lying on her bed, the book she was reading put aside and forgotten. “What do you think?”

  “Flo, your father is concerned about your life and he is thinking about your future. He wants you to be happy and that is why he has come up with this idea of you going to Whittington to marry the Duke.”

  “But I’m not attractive, and I believe the Duke is a most handsome man. Why should I want a man to be encumbered by me when he can get any woman that he wants? I’m a mistake that God made….”

  “Never say that you’re a mistake. Our Lord never makes mistakes. What other people see as ugly, He sees as beautiful. What others see as mistakes, He sees as all according to His plans and purposes. You are beautiful, and it will take a special man to see that.”

  “What if it isn’t the Duke? After all, Papa says his estate is in ruins and he is probably looking for a woman with a big dowry to help him restore it.”

  “Like your father said, this isn’t something you’re being forced into. We will go to Whittington and spend a few days there so you can get to know each other. If you feel you want to go ahead with the marriage, then it will be done, and if not, we will return here. Nothing is etched in stone.”

  Florence nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe this is a good chance for me to see the world that I haven’t since I was little. I like the idea, and maybe this could work.”

  “It will work because you have a good heart, Flo. If there’s anyone who can make a bad situation work, it’s you.”

  Florence smiled at her nanny, reaching out a hand and touching hers. “You always believed in me, Nanny. I wish you would tell me your secrets so I could also help you through them.”

  Rhoda laughed briefly and turned away. “What secrets? I’m as open as a book.”

  “If you say so, but one day you’ll tell me.”

  “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “Aha!” Florence sat up and crossed her legs on her bed. “So you admit that you have secrets. I won’t press you for now, but like I said, one day you’ll tell me.”

  “Don’t hold your breath for that, child.”

  8

  The Marriage

  When Albert got his first look at Florence he was dismayed. Her father had said she was disfigured because of scars, but he didn’t think it was this terrible. Being a surgeon had its advantages because he had learned to school his features as he treated his patients, often encouraging them even where there wasn’t hope. He had seen soldiers with half their faces blown off, limbs torn off and clearly dying, but he would tell them they would be fine, all with a straight face.

  And that is what he did with Florence Knightley. But she had nice eyes, that was a plus for her and he decided that he would concentrate on her pale grey eyes, which he guessed she had inherited from her mother. He tried to see beyond the disfigurement and realized that Florence could have been a very attractive woman.

  “I’ll do it, sir,” he told Stewart as they were walking around the estate. The latter had asked to see it, but Albert knew it was an excuse for them to be alone to talk. “Your daughter is a pleasant woman, I would like to marry her.”

  “She said the same thing to me a few minutes ago, and since you’re both agreeable then I suggest you send for your vicar so he can perform the necessary rites. I’m sure that he can arrange for a special licence from London in a few days, and after we see you settled, the transfer of funds will be done from my bank to yours. I thank you for this, Lord Albert. You won’t be sorry that you married Florence.”

  “I have a feeling that we will be alright.”

  The small, quiet wedding was done a few days later with only Stewart and Rhoda as witnesses. Rhoda wanted to stay and continue to take care of her charge but Florence called her aside.

  “Miss Rhoda, you have been very kind to me all these years, and taken care of me like my own mother. It is now time for you to take care of yourself.”

  “Flo, I have lived almost my whole life taking care of you and I don’t know much else.”

  “Well, you don’t have to leave home, but go now and take care of Papa.”

  “Huh?”

  Florence smiled. “I have seen the way Papa looks at you, Miss Rhoda. It started after mama died so you can rest assured that he wasn’t doing anything improper. There’s a tenderness that comes into his eyes when they light on you. Miss Rhoda, go and take care of Papa and yourself. We will be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” Florence turned back to look at her father and her husband. “Lord Albert is a kind-hearted man, my heart doesn’t deceive me. We will take care of each other in our seclusion, and we shall be fi
ne. But you must promise that at least once a year, you and Papa will come to visit us.”

  “I promise.”

  “I want to speak to Papa for a little while, go and speak to Lord Albert.”

  “What will I tell him?”

  Florence shrugged. “I don’t know, just give me time to say my farewell to Papa.”

  Rhoda walked towards the men, spoke something to Stewart who nodded and started in his daughter’s direction. “Florence, are you alright? Rhoda said you wanted to speak with me.”

  “Yes, Papa. Thank you for thinking about my future, we will be alright.”

  “Lord Albert is a good man, many speak well of him back in London. That is the reason I chose him for you.”

  “I know that, Papa. But now I want you to go back home and be happy.”

  “I am happy.”

  “But lonely,” Florence threw a glance at Rhoda. “Miss Rhoda is a good woman, Papa. Think about that.”

  Stewart smiled at the implication in Florence’s words. He nodded slowly. “You’re a good child. If only your mother had opened her heart to get to know you.”

  “Don’t think about that, Papa, it’s all in the past. Now, you and Miss Rhoda need to start for Dover because it is getting late. I will be fine, Papa.”

  On the first night Albert and Florence sat in the drawing room of the dower house in awkward silence. Florence was thinking about what Rhoda had told her about husbands and wives and she decided that Albert was probably feeling a little intimidated by everything.

  “Just so you know,” she started and got his attention. They had shared a simple meal which she had prepared with the supplies they had brought. “I know that I am repulsive to look at, and you’re a brave man for putting up with me.” She smiled at him. “I won’t blame you if you want to take a mistress on the side. All I ask for is your discretion. I know we’re living in seclusion right now, but with all the repairs that are going to be taking place on this house and then the manor, people will begin to come around us. I just ask that you don’t humiliate me and cause me to be the laughing stock of the county. Since ours is a marriage of convenience so we can both hide in our own worlds, you could take a young, pleasant lady from a good family and sire a child or two, and at the right time you can bring them to the manor and I will bring them up because they are your children. In that way, your name will live on and not die out.”