The Duke’s Deception Read online

  The Duke’s Deception

  2nd Edition

  ©2020 by Sophia Wilson

  All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, events or locales is completely coincidental.

  1st edition published 2016.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  If there was still a place in Katherine’s life for love, true love—the kind that lasted—well, she had not quite given up hope on it yet, but she did feel it slipping further from her with every gown she packed into one of two bags of luggage that would accompany her to Loneshire. This unnerved her. Her room had never been so bare; the blank walls and furnishings acted as a constant reminder of her transience at her parents’ manor. The marriage had, when Percy had originally asked for her hand in November, seemed like an event in the horizon that surely would never come. The thought of those winter months passing had seemed as real and as fanciful as St. Nicholas himself: a pleasant story parents told their children that, as time went on, revealed itself to be nothing more than a good-mannered dream.

  Yet pass November did, and December, January, and so on with it. April had come, Katherine noted as she eyed the blooming flowers through the window with some disdain, and with it the promise of a safe passage by carriage. As Katherine guided the last dress into her bag of belongings—a thin but fashionable thing, perfect for the summer months in Loneshire—she shivered, though it was not cold.

  Sometimes she got these … premonitions, as her mother fondly called them. That was the best way to describe it. Very little bode well of this situation, she knew it. She did not know why, but she did know, and she bit her lip as she folded the dress and packed it with the rest of what belongings she would bring with her.

  At the thought of her mother, her eyes stung with tears for the home and family she prematurely missed. She flung a hand to her chest, cringing at the way it ached. But there was a knock at her bedroom door and with a shuddering sigh, she wiped her tears with the corners of her sleeves.

  “Katherine, dear? May I enter?” an older woman’s voice inquired.

  “Y-yes, I … come in!” She cleared her throat and winced at the way her voice wobbled as she cast a glance to the door. “I’m just, oh … hello, Mother! I was, well, I was just thinking of you.”

  Her mother, the Duchess of Clarendon, stood in the door frame. She resembled in many ways an older version of her daughter and had she been born twenty years later, the two would have been near mirror images; both had the same lithe figure, the same doe-like blue eyes, and the same elegant way of carrying themselves that hinted at more prosperous times. Yet her mother’s brows and mouth were lined with worry that had not quite made themselves present on Katherine’s own face, and her own blonde hair was streaked with silver.

  They exchanged smiles that didn’t quite meet their eyes.

  “Packing. I see. That’s very prudent of you.” The Duchess studied the room with more than a little mistiness in her gaze. “Should this day have come when we were in possession of better luck, I would see to it that you received some help, but your father has Mrs. Rycroft set on making dinner for us tonight. We want to send you off with a good, warm meal, before … well …”

  Mrs. Rycroft was their maidservant, the last of eight to remain with the family and weather through the spot of bad luck and bad finances that had befallen the Clarendon home. The woman was a saint, content to work for room, board, and a small sum out of devotion to the family—and, lucky for them all, she was an excellent cook. But she was not a miracle worker, and the family each did their share in the care and keeping of the household as best as they could manage. Somehow, they did.

  “It’s all right, Mother, I’m managing fine,” said Katherine quickly, managing a smile. Her throat felt a little tight as she spoke. “That’s kind of you both. Too kind. I must admit, I shall miss Mrs. Rycroft’s cooking more than I thought.”

  “You are sure you can manage alone?” Her mother eyed Katherine’s belongings, frowning perhaps at their slight size.

  “Absolutely. I don’t have much that will fit on the carriage to begin with and anyway …” There was that infernal tightness in the throat again; Katherine squeezed her eyes shut and tried to keep her composure. “Anyway, I may as well spend time in this room while I can. It’s good to have time to … to think, I … oh, but I wish I didn’t have to say goodbye to it all so soon!”

  “Oh, Katherine,” said her mother, and she embraced her daughter as both began to cry. “It will be so quiet without you. I don’t know if your father and I will manage.”

  Katherine sniffed as she held the embrace tightly, then let go. She chose her words carefully. “Quiet can be good sometimes, can’t it?”

  “Not when it’s coupled with the absence of someone you miss. Why, I’ll be honest, I can’t think of much worse than that,” her mother replied, but before she could get carried away again, she added, “But of course it’s all for the best, my dear. You will thank us someday. Percival can provide for you more than you could ever gain here. Security. Comfort.”

  “All these things I appreciate, Mother, and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful …” Katherine shook her head as she gazed out the window, staring wistfully at the home she would soon leave behind. “But I don’t even know if I love him or know if I can learn to love him. How can one expect to find happiness without that?”

  “All this will come in time, Katherine, I promise you it will.” Her mother joined her by the window, her eyes caught at something beyond the scenery, something that had passed long ago. “I remember feeling similarly when I met your father, and he was not the charming man he is today: he was boyish, rogue, and more than a little crass. But Percival has already known a married life for several years. It may be unfortunate to be a widower so young, but you are lucky. He’s matured. He’s stable. He will take better care of you than anyone could ask for.”

  Katherine nodded, although in her mind she wondered what it was she had asked for that had put her in this situation. “I only wish,” she said finally, with a sigh, “it was not all so soon.”

  Before her mother could respond, both Katherine’s and her mother’s attention were drawn to a group of horses pulling a carriage which appeared from behind a thicket of trees and onto the manor path. It was a modest carriage, but a sizable one, and it carried down the road at a reasonable speed.

  “Is that …” Katherine trailed off, her face growing pale. She threw an anxious glance towards her mother. “But I thought we had agreed on tomorrow—!”

  “Yes, Katherine, tomorrow is still the plan,” said her mother in what was an attempt at consolation, though her eyes never left the carriage wheels, “but the travel is long, and your father thought it right to invite your escort to stay the night before his return.”

  “My escort?”

  “Mm, a younger brother of Percival, if I recall …” Her mother’s brow furrowed. “A Mr. Oliver Clarke, I believe.”

  Katherine frowned. The name sounded familiar. Perhaps they had met while the betrothal had still been in the making, or before, when she was younger … well, they would soon be family. She committed the name to memory for future use.

  “Will he be joining us for dinner tonig
ht?” asked Katherine in what she hoped was a level voice.

  “Yes.” They watched the carriage as it halted before the house, and she jolted suddenly. “Yes, I best leave you to freshen up. Is a half-hour’s time agreeable to you?”

  Katherine caught herself shaking her head and as her mother shuffled towards the door, she managed a, “That should work fine.”

  “Good. I … until then, my dear.”

  The door shut with a slam uncharacteristic of her mother’s gentle nature. Katherine waited several moments until she heard retreating footsteps. Then she collapsed on the side of her belongings and wept for what felt like hours, or maybe just a few minutes. She could not get a good grip on time lately. It either passed too slowly or, as of late, too quickly to manage.

  Katherine woke up when she heard her father's deep voice. Coming out of a slumbering stupor she attempted to gather her thoughts. Had not her mother given her half an hour? She noticed her bedroom door was slightly ajar. Apparently, her mother had come to check on her and let her alone.

  On the dressing table next to Katherine's bed was a white water-filled pitcher with an imprinted dainty rose bud design. She ascended slowly from her bed and headed in the direction of her dressing table. Picking up her hand-held mirror and gazing into the glass, Katherine was astonished at her appearance. Her eyes were swollen and red from flowing tears, and her hair was unfastidious.

  Katherine poured the cool water into the matching bowl. The aroma of lavender and roses filled the air. Her thoughts reflected on Sarah, her former lady’s servant. Sarah had taught Katherine how to compile the dried roses and oil from the lavender to produce the perfumed water.

  She splashed her face and dabbed extra water around her eyes. Drying her face with the soft white linen cloth she fought back the tears. Katherine brushed her long golden locks of hair and ran her hands across her dress to straighten out any wrinkles. Gazing one more time into the mirror, Katherine slowly exited her room and headed down the hall in search of her sweet mother.

  The Duke of Clarendon motioned with his hand for his daughter to stand before him. "Here is my beautiful daughter making her appearance. May I introduce you?" He took a deep breath and allowed the words to flow fast to the man standing by him. "I present to you Lady Clarendon. Katherine Hayward."

  In a ceremonious protocol manner, the gentleman slightly bent over at the waist and took Katherine's hand, which he gently kissed. "You will make a beautiful bride for my dear brother. I am here to escort you to him."

  Katherine felt anger stirring inside her mind. “Such an arrogant fool. You speak to me as if I were some prized possession”. Katherine turned and, in defiance, walked away without uttering another word.

  "My dear child, you cannot behave in this manner. You need to extend kindness to the Duke of Loneshire's brother, Oliver." Her mother's words struck shame in light of her anger. She would heed her mother's coaching.

  Mrs. Rycroft prepared a magnificent evening meal. Katherine picked at her food, moving one item from one section of the plate to the other side. Her stomach ached but it was not from hunger. Anxiously, Katherine excused herself from the table.

  Memories of her life flooded her heart as Katherine walked around her childhood home. She strolled outside in the herb garden and looped back to the stable. She glanced inside the carriage, which would transport her into a new life.

  Oliver had quietly followed Katherine to the stable. Approaching, he inquired of her approval of the carriage. "Lovely", she voiced as she forced a fake smile on to her face.

  With a tone of supremacy, Oliver informed Katherine the carriage would depart before breakfast and she needed to be ready.

  "Mrs. Rycroft has planned an exquisite breakfast. Can we please wait to depart?" Her pleas went unheard, informing her that Oliver was in charge.

  What a pretentious, conceited, arrogant man. She nodded in agreement, exited the stable and headed straight to her bedroom. She placed her two pieces of baggage on the floor next to the door. A gentle knock on her bedroom door startled her.

  "Katherine, please come join your father and I,” her mother pleaded. Her anger subdued, she joined her parents in the parlor. Her father, in a quiet mellow voice, extended his sentiments. "Daughter, I fell in love with you from the time you were placed in my arms. My love for you is mighty. Your mother and I believe this is best for you."

  If Percy held half the qualifications her father possessed then her marriage and life would be extraordinary. No longer a child, she had to accept this offer and move forward. Oliver was there to protect her and deliver her to her groom.

  Katherine did not dare look back. Etched in her mind was the sadness on her beloved mother's face as she fell into a light sleep. She wished tomorrow would never come, but she was powerless to prevent it. Her dreams turned into nightmares that night, and a pain pierced her heart, startling her awake.

  She tried to catch her breath as her heart beat out of control. She wanted to run and hide and never look back but she knew it would break her parents’ hearts. She sat on the edge of the bed the rest of the night, too frightened to fall back to sleep, afraid the nightmares would start again.

  Too soon, the morning arrived and with a sinking heart, she said goodbye to all that she knew and loved and got in the carriage. With one last goodbye, they left her beloved home, and the carriage turned right at the fork in the road. A new adventure awaited Katherine; one that she was not ready for.

  Chapter 2

  Katherine viewed the familiar landscape through the dusty window of the carriage with a heavy heart. Life as she knew it was about to change forever. She reflected back to her childhood and the fond memories of searching for fairies under the daffodils in the garden. The gardener had brought her cups of water from the fish pond to mix with the dry earth to construct a mud home for her fairies. He was kind enough to gather moss, which served as a roof.

  Blissful memories that made her sigh; how proud she was of that finest constructed fairy house only to be heartbroken the next day. The heavy rains melted the fairy house to a pile of mud intertwined with soaked moss and crumbled sticks. Katherine smiled recalling the gardener’s reassurance that the fairies were fine because God had given them wings so they could retreat to the trees, seeking shelter under the leaves.

  Katherine looked down at her hands, glaring at her white satin gloves. As if to erase the sadness in her heart, she quickly removed the gloves, placing them across her lap. She bit down on her bottom lip determined not to cry. A strange noise permeating the carriage alarmed her.

  Discovering the source of the odd noise, Katherine giggled. Perched across from her was Oliver sound asleep and snoring. Perplexed with the outlandish noise, she deemed it best to simply allow him to sleep. No need to disturb him.

  The gentle rhythmic movement of the carriage lured Katherine into a partial slumber. Her eyes grew heavy, and her head nodded up and down. The carriage wheel plunged quickly into a deep rut in the road causing the carriage to jerk sideways. Backbone straight, her slumber ceased. Oliver never demonstrated any indication of waking up.

  “How, sir, can you sleep?” Katherine said out loud. There was no response; just the bothersome snoring.

  Katherine gazed at her escort. Further inspection is required, she thought to herself. Oliver's physique was amazing. He possessed strong broad shoulders. His facial features were rugged and alluring. A voluminous crop of short red curls lay perfectly on his head. Earlier, she noticed he had the most astounding green eyes. He was indeed a handsome man.

  The warm sun heating Katherine's face turned cool. The carriage came to a sudden stop. Oliver's eyes opened wide.

  "My lady, we have arrived at our destination for the evening. The food served at this establishment is quite exquisite."

  The Chester Grove Inn was indeed a quaint establishment. Katherine blew the dust off her bonnet, placing it at the foot of the inviting bed. Her bones ached from the long carriage ride.

  The coachman pla
ced two of Katherine's bags on the floor just inside the room next to the door. "Would this be pleasing here?” he questioned her. She glanced around the small room and nodded yes. "Thank you, my lady, and rest well this night."

  Stepping into a small dingy room serving as a dining room, Katherine spotted Oliver sitting at a table. A jovial, well-endowed innkeeper babbling with Oliver smiled briefly at her.

  "Is this where I am to sit?" Katherine asked. In her anticipation that Oliver would assist her with seating, she stood there. But Oliver ignored her presence.

  Katherine voiced her question in a loud tone. "Shall I sit here or do you have other plans?"

  "No, please be seated," he snapped back, pointing to the chair. Katherine's blood boiled but her stomach hurt worse. She seated herself.

  Exquisite … Katherine thought with disgust as she gingerly scooped a bite of rabbit stew to her lips. Looking down at the bowl, pains of nausea rippled through her stomach. A piece of hard burned bread was a better option. After consuming three rather large pieces of bread, she deemed herself gratified.

  Pushing the food aside, she noticed the innkeeper laughing with Oliver. Katherine was curious as to the reasoning of the odd behavior between the two. Leaning forward with her ear turned toward the two, she listened carefully. Oh such silliness … she is flirting, Katherine steamed in thought. She was outraged. How dare he behave in this manner!

  “Goodnight,” she said haughtily and stormed back to the room. If Oliver wanted to make such a fool out of himself, she was certainly not going to watch this foolishness.

  Katherine pulled the quilt over her body. Every bone in her body screamed. It was a wondrous feeling to stretch her legs. She tried to shake the thoughts of Oliver and that woman out of her head. Why should she care what Oliver did? She found him arrogant and distasteful so why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? Suddenly, the door opened and then slammed shut quickly.