Authors: Stella White
Andrew didn't say
anything;
he was impressed that she'd spoken to him in this way. Just what he needed. His thoughts turned to Georgina and how she would have
spoken
to him if she'd been in Julia's place. In just the same way, he concluded.
*****
Rose Patterson lived in a small house three doors down from her mother. It wasn't a long walk from the
Lodge,
and Julia had found the way
easily
. She'd told Mrs. Patterson that she'd met her daughter and that she would like to visit her. Mrs. Patterson had explained how to get
there,
and Julia had paid careful attention.
''And?'' Mrs. Patterson had said before Julia left on her walk.
''And what, Mrs. Patterson?''
''Have you told him yet?''
''No, but I will very soon.''
Rose's house was small and looked as if it had
been wedged
between two large houses as an afterthought. It had a thatched roof and smoke rising gently from the chimney. Julia knocked and waited.
''Rose, sorry to bother you. Do you remember me, we met on a walk the other day?''
''Ah, yes,'' Roses' eyes lit up. ''I do. Come in please.''
Inside it was cluttered buy clean. There
were
only two rooms downstairs. The kitchen was straight ahead and the sitting room off to the right.
''Please sit down. Tea?''
The walk had made Julia
thirsty;
she nodded. ''Thank you, that would be lovely.''
Rose brought a try with a plain white teapot and two cups. ''So Miss what can I do for you?''
''It's a delicate matter. I need you help.''
Rose liked it when she could help people. She was by nature a giver. Unfortunately, she'd never been asked
by a man
to give
herself,
but she remained hopeful. ''Anything, just ask.''
''You have a dog do you not?''
''Yes, Charlie. He's out in the garden at the moment.''
''I need you to look after some dogs. You must not tell
anybody,
and nobody must see you with them. Just for few days. I'll bring them to you.''
''Do you have dogs then?'' Rose wanted to know.
''No, they aren't my dogs. Don't ask me anymore because I cannot tell you. All I can
tell you
is that by looking after them, you will be helping a
good many
people out of a miserable situation.''
''Of course. Just bring them to me when you are ready.''
''But please remember, tell nobody and don't let anybody see you with them. Especially your mother.''
Rose nodded, enjoying the mystery.
*****
Julia had paid very careful attention over the previous two weeks. She'd watched from her bedroom window each evening as Oscar put his two Spaniels, Dragoon, and Oliver into their kennel.
She
'd seen where he left the leads, and where he'd hung the key to the lock that fastened the wire mesh door. In the middle of the night,
she
crept out of the house and across the lawn. The dogs were more interested in the meat she was carrying than barking at her. She unlocked the door and put the key back. She took the leads and tied the dogs to them. Closing the door behind her, she set off to Rose's house. Luckily it was a moonlit
night,
and Julia was able to see well. Rose was surprised to see Julia in the middle of the
night
but took the dogs into her house and promised she would keep quiet about it.
*****
''Andrew,'' Oscar shouted at the top of his voice. ''Andrew.'' Andrew fastened his dressing gown and answered the door. ''Have you seen the dogs,'' Oscar said his face flushed with anxiety.
''No, I haven't. Father, it's only six thirty.''
''But I always take them for a walk at this time. They aren't in their kennel.''
''Well maybe you didn't shut the door properly.''
''
Of course,
I did. I lock it every evening without fail. Oh, where can they be?''
''I have no idea. I'm sure they'll return when they're hungry.
At ten o'clock the police arrived at Thorpe Hall. Oscar had called them and asked them to investigate the theft of his dogs. But the constable and sergeant having looked at the kennel concluded that Oscar had
simply
forgotten to lock the door.
Oscar put up 'LOST' notices in all the villages around the area, on every lamppost and church notice board. He also told everyone he saw to let him know if they saw a stray Spaniel. He went their
favorite
walk five times a day hoping to catch a glimpse of them.
''Miss Julia, I am at my whits end. I have no idea where they can be,'' he said when he met her walking across the lawn. 'It's heartbreaking.''
After five days, Julia couldn't bear to see Oscar in such a
state,
and she decided to put him out of his misery. She went to Rose's and took the dogs. On the way home, she let them off the lead. They ran around sniffing and chasing rabbits but stayed with her. As she approached Thorpe Hall, Oscar was in the garden about to set off on one of his search missions. When he saw Julia arrive with the two
dogs,
he ran toward them. Happy to see their master after five days in a shed, they danced around him and jumped up at him. When Julia looked at
him,
he had tears of joy in his eyes.
''Thank you, Julia. Thank you so much,'' he gushed. ''Where on earth were they?''
''I have no idea, they seemed to find me when I went for a walk this afternoon. It's most strange, but they're back
now.''
''Well please come to dinner this evening, I want to thank you.''
*****
Andrew asked Helen to sit with him again that
evening
but she told him she was going to Oscar's for dinner. Andrew was quite put out but realized it would have been difficult for her to say no under the circumstances.
Oscar and Femke welcomed Julia to their home as a hero. Femke was sixty-four, tall and elegantly dressed in an evening gown. Julia had also dressed for the occasion. ''You look
very beautiful
,'' Oscar said, his wife agreed. He gave her a glass of champagne and made a toast, ''to Julia and the dogs.''
''Do you mind if I ask you a question?'' Julia asked Oscar at dinner.
''No, please do.''
''How did you feel when you discovered that the dogs had escaped.''
''Terrible, it was one of the worst moments in my life.''
''And what did you do to find them?''
''Too many things to mention,
really
. I went to every village, put up notices, spoke of it to anyone I met and walked several times each day shouting their names.''
''And how did you feel when you saw them again?''
''It was a magnificent moment. Apart from the day, I married Femke, the best day of my life.''
''Please excuse me for being blunt now.'' Oscar and his wife looked at each other. ''Before your dogs disappeared, you didn't know what it was like to lose something so precious to you that it hurts. No hurt is the wrong word, kills you is better. How painful it can be. And in your case we are only talking about dogs. Think how your son feels? He has lost a wife that was a thousand times more precious to him than any dog could ever be.'' Femke looked at Oscar and nodded in recognition of what Julia was saying. ''I implore you, please think of that, and try to understand Andrew's behavior over the last few months, was born out of nothing other than a real longing to have back what he lost, namely his beloved wife.''
*****
Andrew came back into the house with a grin on his face. ''Father has apologized to me, unreservedly. He told me he had no idea how hard
it's been
for me, and that he can now understand why I have been so lost.'' He looked at
Julia,
who was grinning and smiled. ''It was you wasn't it? It was you who made him see it.''
''Of course not. Your father came
to that conclusion
himself.''
''I don't believe you. Julia, I......''
''No, Andrew, me first. I have something important to tell you. I'm pregnant.''
Andrew wasn't upset or
shocked;
he was delighted. ''I was hoping that's what you were going to say.'' He took her into his arms. ''Julia please stay here, with
me and the children
and our child. I have fallen in love with you.''
''I would like that very much. I'm in love with you too.''
As they kissed, the children ran into the room.
****
THE END
The Devil and the Duke – A Regency Romance
Lady Catherine Dalton turned the small slip of paper over in her delicate hands for the hundredth time since she had received the note. She had recognized the writing right away, the slanting letters looking as they had
been written
hastily. But she knew Dominick never wrote quickly, his handwriting was simply woefully
poor
.
Catherine sat in her room, having just gotten dressed for her short journey. She was wearing a gown of blue with white baubles sewn into the skirt, which shimmered when they caught the light every time she took a step. The neck was
low
, enough to expose the top of her rounded breasts, shoved upwards by an uncomfortable corset that had
been strapped
to her by Bethany, the servant who
she
had known since she was just a baby, nineteen years ago.
She just managed to sit on the edge of her four-poster bed and pull on her shoes, ankle length boots of a sort, with small heels upon them. She stood then, and looked down, using her palms to smooth out the skirt of her dress.
“You look great,” a voice said from her doorway. Catherine looked up to see Rebecca, her oldest sister standing there. She had her arms folded across her chest.
“Thank you,” Catherine
said in a voice she had hoped was
pleasant.
“Where are you going? It’s almost dark,” Rebecca said.
And
indeed,
it was. Behind Catherine lay a window, and she turned her head to peer out of it. The sky was a brilliant orange, painted that way by a sun which was practically falling from the sky, aiming to hide
itself
behind the horizon. There were clouds, but they were nothing more than silvery wisps in the sky, few and far between.
“I won’t be long,” Catherine said.
“Mother wouldn’t want you to go out,” her sister said.
“Mother doesn’t know I’m going out,” Catherine replied, a little more heatedly than she should have. Sometimes, Rebecca simply had that way about her, a way which made Catherine respond quite negatively.
“I don’t want you going out,” Rebecca tried.
Catherine stepped forward, sweeping out of her room, the sides of her wide skirt brushing against the skirt of her older sister’s dress.
“And you aren’t mother,” Catherine said over her shoulder, and she moved down the hall towards the staircase. Rebecca didn’t bother following.
Outside, the air was growing chill, and Catherine mentally cursed herself for not thinking to grab a shawl to wrap around her mostly bare arms. There was a horse and carriage outside the front door, as father always liked from sun up to sun down, just in case anyone needed to get somewhere in a hurry. The driver was an older man named Samuel with a limp in his right arm.
“Evening, Lady Catherine,” the old man said, sweeping his hat from his head and bowing.
“Samuel,” Catherine replied.
“Need me?”
“Not this evening, it is just a short walk I am after,” Catherine replied, and she couldn’t help but notice the look of relief which swept over Samuel’s face. It was so close to evening, and she knew the old man was tired and his leg was aching from a day of mostly standing, and then being cramped up in his driver’s box as he chauffeured the family around town. It was so close to nightfall, and he would be pulling the carriage around to the back of the house, and handing the horse off to the stable boys there, and then going to his own home, a small one-room home of sorts built of wood that lay situated at the very back of her father’s land.
Catherine left the grounds and turned right, towards town, but, of course, they lived some distance away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Here there were long stretches of land, and a curving river of cool and clear water, which cut through the fields and the small spattering of wooded area that grew up here and there.
It was the river she was after, or at least a small dock situated upon it, not even a quarter of a mile up the road from her home. The river was called the King’s River, and it was just wide and deep enough for a smaller sized ferry, and her father and some of their neighbors had supplies floated to them from town, instead of making trips in.
She had first met Dominick there, in the small shed, which housed boating supplies and stretched out over the river on waterlogged wooden struts green with algae. They had been eight then, both of them born in the same month, September, of the same year. He had been rough and dirty, his pants dirty, his knees scraped. She had been a Lady then as well, of course, and took it upon herself to stay away from mud and dirt, and things that may scrape her knees. But she couldn’t resist such passions when she was around Dominick, and when she had returned home the evening of that first day, she had been dirty, her dress had been ripped, and her father had swatted her bottom with a leather switch. She had cried and cried, her backside had been red and painful, but she mostly cried because she had wanted to be still with Dominick.
Even years later, over a decade, that same feeling had not dissipated. She wanted to spend time with Dom, as she had grown to call him, and if the days stretched on and she still did not see him, she grew sad. Everyone knew about their friendship, and when they were younger, everyone had often joked about what it would be like when they got married.
But that was nothing but jests, and everyone had known that as well, all except for Catherine, it had seemed. She wouldn’t be marrying Dom. She would be marrying Duke Andrew Rotham. He was older, almost thirty. He was a handsome man, that was true enough, but he wasn’t the man Catherine loved. Sadly, she had no choice in the matter.
Dominick was already waiting for her when she arrived, dressed in his best suit and standing at the edge of the covered dock, looking down at the water. Her footsteps caught his ear, and he turned to see her. She smiled, as she always did when she saw him, but he did not.
“What is it Dominick?” she asked, going to him. He reached out and took her hands in his. His hands were large, rough and masculine in a way that Catherine doubted Duke Rotham’s were. Dominick stood some inches over Catherine, and she looked up into his eyes. She could sense something was wrong; she had been able to tell when he hadn’t returned her smile.
“I leave tomorrow,” Dominick said softly.
“Leave?”
“My whole regiment,” the young man explained. Dominick was a soldier though his father was in good enough standing in the community, and rich enough, that he had never been far from home.
“To war?” Catherine asked. She hadn’t heard a word of any battles raging, but the skirmishes these men could cook up, they were apt to spring up overnight.
Dom laughed and shook his head. “Thank the Heavens,” he said, “no.”
“Then, where?”
“I do not know exactly, but I’m led to believe that it will be some sort of training, perhaps to bring my regiment closer together. You know how they love to call us brothers in arms.”
“How long will you be gone?” Catherine asked, and even as she spoke she felt the sharp sting of tears in her eyes.
Dominick let go of her hand with his right, and traced his thumb under one of her eyes, where a single tear had escaped over her eyelid and ran down her cheek, leaving a wet trail like a snail on a garden path. “Six months, maybe more.”
Catherine couldn't suppress the gasp that came from between her open lips. “Half a year?” she said, holding her free hand to her chest.
“Yes,” Dominick said.
“I don’t understand,” Catherine said, shaking her head.
“It’s that new commander,” Dominick said, referring to an old man with a hard demeanor named Colonel Croft. “You know the reputation my company has,” the young man went on.
Catherine nodded because that was true enough. The group of soldiers to which Dominick belonged was thought of as weak and soft, spoiled young men with fathers rich enough to keep them out of harm's way. It seemed as if Colonel Croft was anxious to dispel that notion since taking over the regiment.
“So they’re sending you away for six months, maybe more? It may as well be war.”
“Don’t say that,” Dominick said quickly, shaking his head once from side to side.
Catherine lowered her eyes, embarrassed. As soft as his company may have been, she knew he had found himself once in the midst of a bloody battle, a skirmish that sprang up where none had been expected. He had declined ever to speak with her about the matter, and she hadn’t pressed, if only because she saw the dark shadow that crossed over him when it was brought up.
“It’s not as bad as war,” the young man said finally. He had dropped her other hand now, and she yearned for him to take them both again, but he didn’t. “However, six months is a long time and the wedding…”
It usually went unspoken between them, Catherine’s upcoming nuptials. She knew it was as painful for Dominick as it was for her. But now, with him leaving, it couldn’t remain an issue that gnawed at their minds silently.
“I won’t be married that quickly. No date has been set yet. The Duke doesn’t seem to want to push me before I am ready. The arrangement is good enough for him.”
“So when do you think you’ll be ready?” Dominick asked, not bothering to hide the disgust from his tone.
“That’s not what I meant,” Catherine said as she looked down once more. “Oh Dom, I shall never be ready for that.”
Dominick sighed and nodded. He placed a hand under the young woman’s chin and tilted her face up so he could see her eyes. They were still wet, full of tears. “I’m sorry to have upset you, Catherine,” he said. “I only wanted you to meet me so I could say goodbye.”
She nodded, and when he lowered his head to kiss her, she didn’t stop him. They had kissed before of course, as children the first time as would be lovers after. Her lips were plump and full, his thinner but hungry. They kissed, and his hand went to the side of her face, his strong fingers tracing along her jawline. They kissed, and his other hand went to her chest, two fingers hooking the top of her dress, brushing against her ample cleavage. He began to tug the dress down.
Catherine broke the kiss, took his hand in both of hers. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Dominick said, as though that was all he needed to say, and that it had explained everything.
“Dom,” Catherine started, but she didn’t know how to finish her sentence. She and Dom had kissed, and done more, but they had never laid together. She was untouched in that way, no matter how many times Dominick had tried to convince her to lay with him. She wanted to, of course, but the shame she would feel, being unmarried, being soiled on her wedding night instead of pristine and untouched for her husband, she never could.
“Dom,” she said again. “I can’t.”
Dominick changed in a flash, his brows knit and pulled low over his eyes, his mouth turned downward into a cruel sneer. She had seen it before, had accepted it as a flaw in the man she loved, how quickly he could turn angry.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll be gone, and you can have your Duke.”
“Dominick, it isn’t like that,” Catherine said, but the man was already brushing past her, heading out from under the cover of the dock, into the night. He didn’t say anything, and Catherine watched him go with more tears coming to sting her eyes.
****
When Catherine returned home, she had only been in her room for what seemed like a few minutes when her sister was at her door. Catherine hadn’t bothered to dress for bed; she had just flopped onto the mattress in her dress. The only comfort she had allowed herself was leaning down and pulling those ankle high boots off and letting them drop to the floor.
“How is Dom?” Rebecca asked her.
Catherine sat up. “How did you know I went to speak with Dom?”
Rebecca laughed. She had dressed for bed in a simple white nightgown. Her bare feet took her across her sister’s room where she sat on the edge of the bed and put her hand on Catherine’s knee.
“Little sister, the only time you’ve ever snuck out of the house at night is to see Dominick.”
“I didn’t sneak out,” Catherine said, a bit of defensiveness in her voice.
“Sure,” Rebecca said, content to let her sister believe that if she so wanted. “How is Dom?”
It was no secret that Rebecca didn’t much care for Dominick, but Catherine had always believed it was simply because her oldest sister was jealous. Rebecca didn’t look like Catherine, or their sister in the middle, Samantha. Where the two younger were slight and delicate, with ample bosoms, Rebecca was tall, taller than most men, and as flat as the boards which made up the side of a barn. She was pretty, her face with nice features, but her frame was simply longer, taller than most men might like. She had been lonely, and the attention her younger sisters got surely bothered her.
“He’s leaving tomorrow. His whole regiment is being taken on some sort of exercise. For half a year, at least.”
Rebecca nodded softly. “You have the Duke; maybe this will be good for you, to focus on what you should be focusing on. Without that boy here, you can turn your eyes to the man they should be turned upon.”