Regency Romances Page 49

  “Did you believe it?”

  Reading’s lips curled.

  “Barking was the man implicated.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve known him since we were trying to roll onto our bellies for the first time. He is many things, a flirt being one of them, but he would never do anything to harm a woman’s reputation. He’s more respectful than people think.”

  “I figured that when I met him.” Julie sat back in astonishment. She was still trying to take this in. “But how did Mr. Nye find out about it?”

  “Because Beverley told him.”

  “Really?”

  “Believe it or not, yes.” Reading rubbed his hands over his face. He looked exhausted. “She was angry when she realized her plan hadn’t worked and the man she thought she loved was marrying another woman. Mr. Nye was furious and told her if she ever did it again she would be sent away and not come back to Society again. Beverley readily agreed.”

  Julie could very well believe that. Beverley loved the glamour and the life in Society. She wasn’t about to give that up. But she had gone against her promise to her father and started rumors again, this time against someone who was supposed to be her friend.

  Julie would hate to be Ivor Nye right now.

  “But how are we going to get her to tell us this time? She’s certainly not going to confess to her father again.”

  “I have an idea. But you’re going to need to help me.”

  “You could’ve told me in the morning.”

  “This is going to happen in the morning.” Reading reached across the table and held his hand out to her. “Are you ready to confront her?”

  Julie didn’t need to be asked twice. She slipped her hand into his and nodded.

  “Absolutely.”

  ***

  This was not going to be easy. Reading knew it wouldn’t take much to push Beverley into gloating about what she had done, but he did need to tread carefully. If Beverley knew she was being led into a trap, she could clam up.

  Hopefully, her urge to boast would be her downfall.

  It was mid-morning when Victor came into the morning room.

  “Miss Nye is here, my lord.”

  Reading glanced at the clock. Almost half an hour late. If he had been considering courting her without knowing all this, her timekeeping alone would have her cast aside. Reading hated people being late to appointments. He nodded at his butler.

  “Show her in, Victor.”

  Victor bowed and withdrew, appearing a few moments later with Beverley beside him. Beverley practically swanned into the room and dropped into a deep curtsy.

  “My lord,” she said sweetly, giving him a smile. “I’m glad you wanted to see me.”

  Reading couldn’t bring himself to compliment her in return. He waved a hand at a chair by the window.

  “Sit down, Miss Nye.”

  Beverley blinked, her happiness ebbing a little. She clearly wasn’t expecting Reading to speak crisply to her. But she did as she was told and sat down, smoothing her hands over her lap. Reading sat opposite her, sitting back and crossing his legs as he surveyed her. Now Beverley was looking a little nervous, looking around the room as if she expected something to happen.

  “I must admit, my lord, I was surprised when you sent your message to see me. I thought you were beginning to ignore me.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  Beverley sniffed.

  “Because someone else had flattered you. I thought I was being cast aside again.”

  Reading gave her a sardonic smile.

  “Who could cast you aside?”

  That was when Beverley’s smile returned. Reptiles had nicer smiles that that. Reading felt a shiver go down his back.

  “I’m glad we’re of the same mind, my lord,” Beverley replied smoothly.

  Chapter 10

  The Confrontation

  Reading was going to have to tread carefully now. He didn’t want to do any small talk with Beverley but if he jumped straight into it, she might get spooked and run. People were listening in. This needed to be done carefully.

  So, he managed to make small talk with her, asking her bland questions that Beverley answered with fervor. It appeared that she was delighted that Reading was now paying her his full attention, and she was making the most of it. She spoke in great detail about things that anyone else would have cast aside as worthless.

  She could hold a conversation, Reading had to give her that. But she overwhelmed people with her talking. It was just a bit too much. If she wanted to be in Society any longer, things would have to change.

  If she was allowed back into Society.

  Soon, Reading decided to turn it towards Julie.

  “I heard what happened to Lady Julie Watts.”

  “You mean hearing that she’s a…” Beverley broke off and waved her hands. “You know.”

  “It’s disgusting that people are saying those things about her.”

  Beverley snorted.

  “Maybe she should have stayed away.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She shouldn’t have poked her nose into other people’s business. Lady Julie used to be a docile, meek little girl. Could never say no. She always was as a child. But since she grew up, something’s changed.” Beverley wrinkled her nose. “It’s like she expects people to have her in their business.”

  This was getting interesting. Beverley was getting more animated than before. Reading sat forward.

  “Is that what she was doing?”

  “Apparently so.”

  “I thought you were her friend, Miss Nye. I mean, she was doing a favor for you, wasn’t she?”

  Beverley rolled her eyes.

  “Not anymore. She started turning that favor into something for herself.”

  “You mean she started seeing me for herself instead of trying to persuade me that you were suitable to be my countess.”

  That was when Beverley started. She stared at him in alarm.

  “How…” Then she gathered herself and schooled her expression to turn blank. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I’m not stupid, Miss Nye. I figured out what was going on pretty quickly. Lady Julie isn’t very subtle. And I told her that I wasn’t interested in marrying you. I had already made up my mind who I was going to marry.” Reading resisted the urge to look towards the door. “I was going to marry Lady Julie.”

  He hadn’t said a thing to Julie yet. This was going to be quite a shock for her. It was already a shock to Beverley, who shot to her feet with a screech.

  “What!?! No! You can’t!” Beverley looked frantic. “I’ve been there all the time! I love you!”

  She fell to her knees, grabbing at Reading’s hands. Reading pulled his hands away and stood, walking away.

  “I don’t love you. There aren’t words to describe how much I dislike you, Miss Nye.” It was cruel, but it had to be done. “I didn’t like the qualities you possess in my stepmother and I certainly don’t like them in you.”

  Beverley’s face was losing color. She looked close to tears.

  “Even after all I did?” she cried. “After making sure she was not considered for marriage by anyone again you still want to marry her?”

  “So, you were the one who started the rumors about Lady Julie.”

  Beverley snorted.

  “I told Julie I would fight her for you and I would win. I never lose.”

  “You lost Geoffrey Croft, didn’t you?”

  That knocked the wind out of Beverley’s sails. She faltered but caught herself quickly, shaking her head.

  “That was foolishly misplaced.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” Reading could barely keep the snarl out of his voice. “You broke apart two people who genuinely loved each other because you selfishly wanted it for yourself. And now you’re doing the same thing again. Your father told you that he wouldn’t tolerate it a second time.”

  “And you’re telling me you’re going to
tell my father about this?” Beverley seemed to be getting a little more confidence back. “He wouldn’t believe you.”

  “Wouldn’t I?”

  Beverley shot to her feet. Reading jumped. He hadn’t heard the door open. They turned and saw Ivor Nye in the doorway. His face was red, glowering at his daughter. As he advanced into the room, the Duke of Sussex appeared, his expression grim. And then Julie stepped up beside him. She looked like she was about to cry.

  Beverley saw her, and her shock turned into a sneer.

  “What’s she doing here?”

  “I wanted to hear this for myself.” Julie shook her head. “I can’t believe you would even do this, Beverley. I thought we were friends.”

  “Friends don’t steal men from each other,” Beverley snapped.

  Reading barked out a laugh.

  “I wasn’t there for anyone to steal and I certainly wasn’t yours.”

  Nye growled, silencing everyone. Reading knew and liked the man and found him to be a level-headed person. It pained him to see Nye like this, looking incredibly disappointed in his daughter.

  “I didn’t put you into Society to make it implode, Beverley,” he snapped. “I was hoping it would turn you into an elegant lady, something I know you can be. Clearly, two years in London hasn’t succeeded in doing that. You’re still as selfish and immature as before.”

  Beverley pouted. Now she really was looking like an immature little girl.

  “Why is everyone making me the bad person here?” she cried. “Why can’t I marry who I want?”

  “Because the men in question don’t care for you in return,” Julie pointed out. “Growing up means changing, and you haven’t grown up at all.”

  “She certainly hasn’t,” Sussex said grimly. He looked ashamed. “You took me in, Miss Nye. You took my wife in. She believed you when you told her about Lady Julie. She’s heavily embarrassed knowing that you took advantage of her. Especially after the last time you did it.”

  Nye sighed and rubbed his hands over his face.

  “You are to go home, Beverley. I can’t have you here and making an embarrassment of your mother and myself. My carriage is waiting for us to leave. Preparations are going to be made for you to go to live with your grandmother in Ireland.”

  “What?” Beverley spluttered. “But…that’s not fair! I don’t want to go to Ireland!”

  “You can go to the Shetland Islands with your great-aunt Elizabeth, if you so wish.” Nye spread his hands. “One or the other. Your choice.”

  ***

  Julie wished she could feel some sort of sympathy for her former friend. But she couldn’t. Beverley had tried her best to force Julie away, and for now, she had succeeded. It was going to take a lot for everything to die down. The letters she had been sent over the false rumors couldn’t be taken back. Not even a public apology was going to make it feel better.

  She stepped aside as Beverley burst into ugly tears and charged out of the room. Nye looked like he wanted to break down. Reading approached him and whispered something, shaking the man’s hand. Nye nodded and left after his daughter, not able to make eye contact with Julie. The only person she felt sympathy for was Ivor Nye. He didn’t deserve this, and it wasn’t his fault his daughter had done this.

  As the front door closed, the Duke of Sussex turned to Lady Julie. He had gone from stand-offish to shocked, and now he was looking equally ashamed and embarrassed.

  “I hope you can forgive my wife and I for this, Lady Julie. I cannot believe we were taken in so easily.”

  Julie glanced at Reading, who nodded. She turned back to Sussex.

  “It might be awhile before I can forgive anyone, Your Grace,” she said calmly. “My reputation is now ruined.”

  Sussex winced.

  “I’ll see what I can do with that.”

  He gave both her and Reading a quick bow and left rapidly. Reading drew Julie into the room and closed the door, giving her a smile.

  “He’ll be able to straighten things out. People listen to him.”

  “I hope so,” Julie sighed. “Because I won’t be able to get a decent marriage with my reputation as it is right now. I won’t be able to progress as Father wants me to. He’s still furious anyone would even believe it.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about not securing a marriage.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Reading was grinning. He took Julie’s hand and drew her to the couch, urging her to sit beside him. Then he kissed her hand.

  “Lady Julie Watts, daughter of the Earl of Norwich, sounds like a good title. But Lady Julie Reading, Countess of Reading, sounds even better.”

  It took a moment before Julie realized what he was saying. When she had heard him declare to Beverley that he wanted to marry Julie, she hadn’t quite believed it. But now he was openly saying it and it was taking a while to sink in.

  “Was that a proposal?”

  “If you wish it to be.”

  Julie bit her lip and looked away. This felt like a dream. She was scared if she accepted, she would wake up and realize there was no proposal there.

  “I don’t want to force you into it,” she mumbled. “You did scale a wall for me and sneak into my kitchen in the early hours of the morning. People would expect you to make me an honest woman.”

  Reading laughed and drew her into his arms, settling back against the cushions.

  “Oh, Julie.” He kissed her head as he embraced her. “Is it hard to believe I want you as my wife because I love you? That’s the only reason I would ever propose.” He kissed her nose and then her mouth. “I don’t care about the reputation part because I know the real you. And I just want you, Lady Julie Watts.”

  Julie couldn’t stop herself. She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Reading laughed.

  “Was that your answer?”

  “It was.” Julie drew back and kissed him. “I love you.”

  “You didn’t need to say it out loud.” Reading chuckled, tucking her into his side. “But it does help.”

  *** The End ***

  The Disfigured Duke

  &

  the debutante

  Regency Romance

  Grace Fletcher

  Prologue

  The Fife hospital for wounded soldiers was above capacity. There weren’t many staff, and medical practitioners were doing their best to care for everyone who needed it. The war, involving many estates in Scotland, had caused devastation for countless families, and the Fife estate had opened its doors to everyone who needed aid.

  The Duke of Fife, Arthur Pemberton, was amongst those wounded in battle. He had been recovering well though staying amongst those wounded worse and with no hope in their future was battering his endurance to remain within the hospital itself and not retire to his rooms. The only reason he remained was that he had still not been given a clean bill of health and he didn’t want to go against what precious medical advice there was.

  His face was almost fully healed due to the linseed oil and lime water that were used to treat the burns, and though the pain had been intense in the beginning, it was becoming more bearable. It wouldn’t be long before Fife could have his bandages taken off and he would see what had become of him. He did not regret saving a man’s life, would do the same again in a heartbeat, but that did not make bearing the scars on his face any less daunting. For surely there would be some; his doctor had been certain of this fact though he had informed Fife with reluctance and great sorrow.

  Fife could understand his reticence. Nobody wanted to tell a duke, especially not within his own estate, that he would likely be scarred for the rest of his life.

  Fife could say without a doubt that he did not want to see his own reflection, he was a proud man, but he was also strong. The injury had happened, and Fife would deal with it the way he had most things.

  When the doctor finally deemed him ready to have his bandages removed, he was given the privacy of a separate room. It was easier; he could no
t hear the cries of injured men, nor could they see what his face would now be, the way he presented himself to the world. The nurse was careful in removing his bandages; the doctor making sure everything was proceeding correctly, and Fife curled the sheets within his hands, as much to combat the itching of the skin as to keep himself grounded within the moment.

  He had faced more monumental things: death. This would be infinitely easier.

  Though, when the nurse held up the mirror so that he could see his reflection, Fife could not believe he had ever been so strong.

  Born with striking blue eyes, one was now clouded. And though he could see, there was a blurred quality to his vision that had not been there before. Crisscrossing over his cheek and both under and above his eye were burn scars marring what used to be a handsome face. Immediately, he pushed the mirror away, burying his face in his hands. It was painful, but he did not much care.

  How could he ever face the public again?

  Chapter 1

  Guildwell Hall

  The ball at Guildwell Hall was to be the highlight of Miss Marianne Drake’s week. She had been awaiting the opportunity to present, once again, in front of the best of society. She was the most popular debutante of the season, and though she took some pride in being the woman every man sought to dance with, she could not deny that it was exhausting. There was barely time to sit between dances before another suitor was asking her to join him on the dance floor.

  There was a part of her that would always shy away from the attention. It was overwhelming to be offered so many hands in marriage, twelve by her last count, but she had refused them all. Though her parents were adamant that she accept a proposal soon, giving the family financial security for the foreseeable future, Marianne refused. While most young women her age were content with marriage for money’s sake, she could not be one of them.

  Marianne wanted the kind of love she read about in her favorite stories: a man would come, whisk her off her feet, and she would love him all her life. She had failed to make a connection with anyone thus far though she still had time before she would be testing the limits of her parents’ patience.