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  “I hated Vincent. You knew that. He was a…” She huffed. “I loved you and I wasn’t going to change my feelings because you killed a man I despised.”

  “He was your brother. Family is more important.”

  “He wasn’t going to be anything.” Ann snapped. “But you were.”

  Chester couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Ann sounded mad. He turned away in disgust and moved to the couch, putting distance between them.

  “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You do realize you could’ve cost my relationship with Clementine?”

  “She doesn’t love you like I do.” Ann started towards him, hands outstretched to him. “I deserve you!”

  Chester grabbed her wrists before she could touch him, gripping them tightly enough for Ann to cry out. The door opened and Lady Winchester hurried in.

  “Chester, what on earth are you doing?”

  “Be quiet, Mother.” Chester didn’t look away from Ann, whose expression was changing. She was beginning to realize she had messed things up badly for herself. “You deserve nothing, Ann Calloway. And you certainly don’t deserve me.” He shoved her away, causing Ann to stumble. “Get out of my home. Get out of my sight. I don’t want to see you again.”

  “But, Daniel…” Ann started but Chester snarled, silencing her.

  “My name is Lord Winchester. You are not permitted to call me that. Go!”

  White-faced, Ann burst into tears and hurried out of the room. Lady Winchester watched her go in bewilderment. She turned to Chester, who turned his glare on to her.

  “And if you mention her name ever again in my house, you’ll be gone, too.” He growled. “Do you hear me, Mother?”

  The countess opened her mouth and then closed it. Swallowing, she nodded. Then she gave him a quick curtsy and hurried from the room.

  ***

  Clementine had been confused as to what Ryan was saying but Ryan explained about Chester’s desire to confront Ann. Neither of them knew what was going to happen but Clementine was sure Chester would be showing Ann Calloway the door.

  She hoped so. Ann was a sly woman; she could wrap anyone around her little finger. Although Ryan was certain that Chester wouldn’t fall for that. He was too smart to believe Ann Calloway and her lies.

  Clementine knew that was true, but she was getting more and more nervous as she and Ryan made their way over to Chester’s home. She had faith in Chester for doing the right thing but there was still something at the back of her mind that she would walk in and find Chester and Ann Calloway in a clinch.

  That would break her heart.

  But the first thing they saw when they pulled up outside the front door was Ann Calloway charging out and down the steps, tears streaking her face. She stopped short when she saw Ryan helping Clementine out of the carriage. Giving Clementine a harsh glare, she then hurried over to her carriage and climbed in, the coachman snapping the horses to life and pulling the carriage away.

  Clementine knew she should feel relief that the woman was gone and clearly pushed away. And the anger was there, especially after what Clementine had heard from her sister, but mostly she just felt sorry for Ann. She had been carrying a torch for Chester for a long time and now she was being rejected.

  But that didn’t excuse her behaviour and the way she went about trying to get the Duke of Winchester to himself.

  The butler let them in and Ryan was leading Clementine across the foyer to Chester’s study when Lady Winchester came out. She stopped and stared at Clementine, her face pale. Then she pursed her lips, gave her a curt nod, and walked away.

  Clementine wasn’t about to address the countess’ impolite greeting. She was more concerned about Chester. Ryan touched her arm as they reached the door.

  “I’ll be in the kitchens.”

  Clementine gave him a smile and squeezed his hand.

  “Thank you.”

  Ryan nodded and walked away. Clementine knocked and entered. Chester was pacing about in front of his desk, running his hands through his hair.

  “Not now, Radleigh…” He began, his voice fading when he turned and saw Clementine. Clementine gave him a smile, her hands fidgeting.

  “Chester.”

  “Clementine.”

  Chester stared at her. Then he was across the room before Clementine could blink and kissing her, cupping her head in his hands. Clementine sighed and sank into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest.

  Then Chester suddenly pulled away, his hands sliding down her back, but he didn’t let go.

  “Forgive me, Clementine. I shouldn’t have…”

  “Don’t apologize for that.” Clementine kissed him. “And I should be the one apologizing. I treated you shamefully.” She bit her lip. “That is not in my nature at all and I feel awful for that.”

  “I know.” Chester hugged her, burying his face into her neck with a heavy sigh. “You were blindsided. Ann Calloway sent that note and she was hoping you would turn me away so she could have me to herself.”

  It made sense that Ann would have written the note, even if her logic was skewed on that would have her eventually become the Countess of Winchester. But the knowledge she had had help settled heavily in her stomach. Clementine pulled back and stepped out of Chester’s arms. He was not going to be pleased. Chester looked perplexed.

  “Clementine? What is it?”

  Clementine took a deep breath. She was still trying to understand it herself.

  “Ann Calloway did write the note. But she didn’t send it. She gave it to Maisie.”

  “Maisie?” Chester drew back as if he had been slapped. “As in your sister Maisie? Why was she involved in this?”

  “That’s the saddest part.” Clementine swallowed. “Maisie’s infatuated with you as well. Has been since we all met each other again. I don’t know what Miss Calloway did exactly, but she got Maisie to believe that if she helped split up apart, then she would have you to herself.”

  “What?” Chester was still looking confused. “She’s a child! And how would that work if Ann wanted me for herself?”

  “I don’t think she wasn’t thinking clearly. She was jealous that I had something she wanted.” Clementine sighed. “She confessed this to me after Ryan told me about you and Vincent Calloway. She didn’t realize that Miss Calloway only said that to get her on side and Maisie was going to be cast aside once she helped Miss Calloway succeed in her machinations. That woman played Maisie like a puppet.”

  And Maisie, immature and young as she was, had fallen for it. Clementine was angry at Maisie’s involvement and anonymously delivering the note but she was also sorry for her. Maisie had wanted to be at Chester’s side that badly she was taken in by a deal to get rid of her sister.

  The whole plan was making Clementine’s head spin.

  Chester sighed.

  “Where is Maisie now?”

  “Jethro is helping her to pack. She’s going to stay with a cousin in Wales for a while.” Clementine shrugged. “Jethro thought it would be best that we’re not around each other for a while.”

  That hurt the most. Clementine had thought she and Maisie were close but Maisie had almost jeopardized her relationship with the man Clementine loved. She wasn’t sure if it meant Maisie truly hated her or she had been misguided.

  Right now she didn’t want to find out.

  “I wish it hadn’t come to this, Clementine.” Chester said quietly.

  Clementine swallowed and went into his open arms, resting her cheek against his chest.

  “So do I.” She looked up at him and smiled. “But I’m happy that I know you’re not a murderer. I can withstand the scandal if you can.”

  “So you believe me now?”

  “I do.” Clementine kissed his chin. “Ryan talked some sense into me. He’s a good man.”

  “I know that part. Which is why he’ll be my best man.”

  “Best man?” Clementine raised an ey
ebrow. “Is there a wedding happening?”

  Chester grinned.

  “Will you marry me, Clementine Cowell?”

  Clementine couldn’t stop smiling.

  “I’ve wanted you to ask me that for ten years.”

  Chester laughed and kissed her forehead, still smiling.

  “Better late than never, then.”

  *** The End ***

  the duke’s

  dramatic

  deception

  Regency Romance

  Grace Fletcher

  Chapter 1

  The Duke’s

  Dilemma

  M oonlight engulfed the London streets as another lavish evening infiltrated lives of the ton. Carriages halted outside the Theatre-Royal, as women in expensive gowns, accompanied by men dressed smartly, stepped down. Glimmering blots of the candle-lit chandeliers, delicious rue of golden-brown champagne in glass goblets, and the vivid colors of the interior captured Edward Croft's, Duke of Norfolk, intense gaze as he stepped through the ostentatious entrance.

  In front of him, a young lady stood resting her waist against the mantelpiece. She was dressed impeccably in a deep-blue dress, her mahogany hair pinned up. Quite beautiful, her skin glinted under the light of the hall. Norfolk smiled smugly, looking forward to having her as his company.

  “Perhaps you’d care for some company?” He asked her, his voice confident, offering his arm.

  Trusting his charm abilities, he knew she wouldn’t refuse. Crimson flooded the girl’s cheeks as he gave her his best smile. Embarrassed by her reaction, yet unable to speak, she simply took his arm and together they sauntered into the theatre to take their seats.

  The Theatre-Royal was well-known for its outstanding productions of Shakespearean plays. Casting only the best actors and actresses and providing extensive training before they would appear on stage. The audience that they received was well-read and quite fond of literature. Tonight, they presented ‘Romeo and Juliet’, the eternal love saga. Having taken up his father’s love of poetry and his interest in English prose, the duke looked forward to tonight’s rendition.

  As the audience settled down, the play commenced. Romeo stepped onto the stage as the first act started. Norfolk recognized the actor from previous plays, ‘Othello’ and ‘Antony and Cleopatra.’ He was an exceptional performer, mastering dialogue delivery and body language.

  Duke Norfolk, unlike other people, not only watched but also evaluated and analyzed the performance. A gasp escaped his companion’s mouth as Juliet gracefully glided across the marble floor. She exhibited perfection in its true essence. A rarity. He watched as she delivered her lines in a soft voice. He had never seen this actress before, perhaps she was on stage for the first time. Regardless, the Duke was captivated by her performance.

  “By God, Heaven and Hell collide if I ever have seen anything more beautiful than Juliet on stage.” He spoke, forgetting his lady companion.

  At this ill-timed remark, the young lady gazed at him angrily. She was evidently embarrassed by his praise for another woman.

  “Oh, these women don’t know virtue, flaunting themselves on stage. It’s only looks and money for the lot of them.” She said, irritated.

  The duke rolled his eyes, ignoring her. He was too bewitched by the beauty in front of him on stage. Soon, too soon for Norfolk, the play ended. The audience gave a round of applause and began to disperse. The duke escorted the lady on his arm outside and kissed her cheek. He didn’t intend to court her, having his eyes set on the exquisite ‘Juliet.’

  Norfolk stood outside the theatre, puffing tobacco hoping for the actress to come out soon. He blew the smoke, and through it he saw emerge a lady in a rich, rust-shaded silk gown. Her dark hair shone under the pale light, dull in comparison to the glow of her skin. Before the duke could rearrange his thoughts, enraptured as he was, she was gone. Her carriage racing down the road.

  Chapter 2

  Choices to Make

  S ick is the word that flooded Jemima’s mind, as she wondered how she was feeling. Simply sick. The baleful spell of poverty that had befallen her life, enslaving her in shackles, had made her cross horrible extents for survival. Jemima, who was woman of faith, now wore immoral dresses and acted, to make ends meet. Shame was her only ally, vulnerability her enemy. This was not the life she had sought for herself, but precious Aunt Lucy’s illness left her no choice. Each night, she’d return, calling it her last. Each morning she’d look at her frail aunt and leave determined to earn more than yesterday. Living was not easy; all her earnings were spent in medicines and some in her bills. She worked hard, but misery worked harder at devouring her.

  She turned the key and walked into her small house. Aunt Lucy lay on her bed, too weak to walk. Jemima checked on her aunt, gave her medicines, and after putting her to sleep went to bed herself. She changed into her bed dress and got on her knees to pray. She folded her arms and closed her eyes.

  “Lord, you are our Shepherd, in you we trust. Please give me the strength to wake another day, please guide me to fight another day.” She prayed, tears falling.

  ***

  Jemima woke to a knock on the front door. She got up and wrapped shawl around herself before answering.

  “Aye?” She asked.

  The man in front of her, a messenger, carried a letter. He gave a light bow, and handed her the letter, waiting for her reply.

  Jemima rarely received correspondence, except bills and outstanding bill notices. The letter in her hand was neither of those. The parchment was expensive, and the writing was fancy and unknown to her. She started reading,

  Dear Miss Jemima Devine,

  I cordially invite you to be my guest tonight, at my estate, for dinner. If you choose to accept, I will have my carriage sent to collect you.

  Looking forward to your company,

  Norfolk.

  Jemima felt confused, she had never met the duke and was unaware of his existence. However, he was an important man, and she didn’t want to upset him. It was likely that he had attended her performance last night.

  “Please tell the duke, I’ll be there. Thank him for the invitation.” Jemima told the messenger as she curtsied.

  ***

  Norfolk waited eagerly for Miss Devine to arrive. He had contacted the Theatre-Royal and with his influence it wasn’t hard to get her details. He’d sent his messenger to her house, along with an invitation to dinner. She had accepted, as he knew she would, and was due any time.

  He planned on presenting a proposition to Miss Devine, one that would benefit them both. If she agreed that is. He required a companion, she required a strong financial income. The duke had done his homework before inviting her to dinner. He had made his move.

  As the carriage drew in on the avenue, Norfolk felt his nerves kicking in. Was a duke of his importance making a mistake, getting involved in this? It would be quite a scandal if revealed.

  There was a light knock on the parlor door.

  He turned as the butler, Brenham, announced the guest.

  “Miss Devine, His Grace the Duke of Norfolk.” He gave a bow before moving to the side. There she stood.

  Miss Jemima Devine wore a burgundy evening dress, v-shaped bodice, and a fuller skirt. Her silhouette was no less than an angel's. Her mahogany hair was pinned up elegantly. She walked in, taking off her satin gloves and handing them to the butler.

  She gave a small curtsy as the duke took her hand, kissing it lightly.

  “A pleasure, Miss Devine.” He said.

  “All mine, Duke Norfolk.” She said, “It’s very kind of you to invite me into your home. I hope it wasn’t trouble.”

  “No trouble at all, Miss.” He told her, leading her towards the seating.

  They made small talk, and the steward entered the parlor.

  “Dinner is served, Your Grace. Miss.” He informed, exiting.

  As they sat down to eat at opposite ends of the long wicker table, they were served soup.

  “You w
ere remarkable as Juliet.”

  Jemima blushed, the duke was a very handsome man.

  “You’re too kind, Your Grace.” Jemima thanked him.

  “Please, call me Norfolk.” The duke offered.

  A few minutes passed, and the footmen served them their main course. Quail and vegetables, with a cranberry sauce. The food was exceptional, no doubt, cooked by one of the finest chefs in Britain. Jemima was used to invites by her admirers, so far this had been the fanciest experience she had had. The surrounding interior was regal, and the Duke was a fine gentleman, respectable and humble.

  These thoughts would soon diminish as the duke decided to discuss his proposition.

  “It has come to my attention that you are a woman of means, Miss Devine.” He started, taking an unexpected turn, “Yet, you are working very hard to make ends meet.”

  This did not surprise Jemima. She was sure the messenger boy must’ve told the duke about her living situation. Little did she know, Norfolk knew a lot more.

  “A girl finds a way.” She said, taking a bite of the delicious food.

  “Yes, and that is remarkable. However, with an ill aunt it must get harder sometimes.”

  The blood drained from Jemima’s face, he seemed to be quite well informed.

  “Y-yes, sir.”

  “Norfolk, please.” He smiled, before continuing. “I have a proposal for you, and I think you’ll benefit from it.”

  Her face hardened. She was not here to be bought, yet, politeness taking over, she listened.

  “My case is very simple. Very much like you, I too have a great aunt, very dear to me. And similar to your aunt, she lies on her deathbed. I’m sure if your aunt made a last request of you, you would oblige. Thinking about it from that perspective, I present you her last wish. To see me married and settled.”

  Jemima was very confused, having no clue what Norfolk wanted.

  “This time next week, I’ll be visiting her. She expects I’ll be there with my beautiful young wife. That is where you come in. I require you, if you agree, to pose as my beloved, so that she can see me settled. Time is short, and love is absent from my life. I do not wish to upset my aunt on her deathbed.”