The Light in the Duke's Shadow: A Historical Regency Romance Book Read online

While she skimmed the other books and found their contents too dreary to keep reading, Penelope had read the whole plight of her grandmother. The woman had been born in Ireland and moved to London with her parents who were themselves honourable members of society.

  In London, Penelope’s grandmother had fallen in love quite irrevocably with the Earl of Thornshire, Penelope’s grandfather. Their love had seemed to blossom out before it wilted. Her grandmother’s words haunted Penelope. She read them aloud as she ran her finger over the stained page. “Bernard and I ate together. It was a bitter affair. No longer did he heed me or stroke my hand. We barely could tolerate each other. My mother did not tell me of this, and I direly loathe her so for it.”

  Penelope shut the book. Her grandfather had grown cold and almost spiteful. Penelope’s mother had even told Penelope of the man’s temper and how he would strike her and Penelope’s grandmother if they dared to speak against him.

  While Penelope’s father was not as heavy of hand, he still quelled all those around him. He ruled his house like a vicious king who would entertain no disagreement to him. Penelope had thought it a trait linked clearly to her father until she had read her grandmother and great-grandmother’s accounts of their own marriages.

  Men had one defining flaw, her grandmother had written, they all thought solely of themselves and never of those that might suffer because of their deeds. Penelope only then took note of the men that came to call on her father, and her heart had grown fearful. If that was all men were, then her debut among them was nothing to make her heart trill.

  Penelope had set her heart firmly against marriage, but she had not yet finished reading her mother’s journal. Why the woman had put it aside in the chest, Penelope did not know, but Penelope feared that it was acceptance that had made her do so. Her mother, who taught her how to smile and curtsey, had not seen fit to warn Penelope.

  The mistakes of the past were doomed to happen again it would have seemed, but Penelope had found that chest. She swore to the women that the journals represented that she would break this horrible curse. No more would the women in her family suffer indignities and misery at the hands of men.

  Penelope gave the cover of her grandmother’s journal a gentle stroke. She placed the book back gently. Penelope had her mother’s diary hidden in her room where she was confident the woman would not find it by accident.

  Chapter 6

  As much as Jules knew he should rest, he was loathed to fall asleep. A man came sometime around midday. Jules knew it was around midday because a servant girl had just brought him in a tray of food for his luncheon.

  “Your Grace, it is good to see you awake,” the man said.

  Jules knew that voice. “You were here last night,” Jules said as he eyed the visitor curiously. “Are you the doctor?”

  “Yes, on both counts,” the man said with a smile. “I was not sure if you would retain any memory of last night.”

  Jules nodded. “I only remember waking up briefly.”

  The visitor held out his hand which Jules took gingerly in his left hand as his right hurt too much to move at the time. “I am Doctor Jones, and it is a pleasure to finally make your true acquaintance, Your Grace.”

  “And I you,” Jules said with sincerity. “I feel as though we should be family since you have sewn me shut so neatly. I would offer you dinner if we were in my home.”

  The man smiled. “That is kind of you.” He looked at the plate of food that sat on the table next to Jules as he let his hand drop to his side. “Not hungry?”

  “I am not feeling very well around the stomach,” Jules said as he cleared his throat.

  Doctor Jones nodded his head. “May I check your incision?” When Jules nodded, the doctor lifted Jules’ shirttail while Jules did his best to lift his arm out of the way. “I will never be a seamstress, but it looks to be doing well enough. Now, you said your stomach was ailing you?”

  “Yes, I find that it is most sick, even if the food looks like it would be delicious,” Jules admitted as he gently lowered his arm back to his side as the man finished.

  Doctor Jones said, “That is probably due to the mixture I gave you last night to help you sleep. Do you remember that?”

  “No,” Jules said promptly. “And I felt fine this morning when I ate a bit of breakfast.”

  The man sighed. “I probably should have told them to hold breakfast. The mixture can sometimes make you feel a bit queasy if you eat too much in the hours after you wake. It sits heavy in the stomach, but it should pass.”

  “I am just thankful that this is normal,” Jules said with relief.

  Doctor Jones chuckled and patted Jules’ knee through the bed covers. “Yes, it is quite common. If you should begin to feel fevered or if the sickness does not leave you by this evening, then let the lady of the house know to send for me.” The man straightened up and said seriously, “You lost a lot of blood, Your Grace. The wound looks good, but if it should start bleeding, lie down and have them call for me. Eat as best you can to build up your strength.”

  “Would it be within reason for me to travel home?” Jules did not wish to offend his host, but he needed to be back on his investigation. There were things to do, and he wished to visit the alley before any clues were lost. Likely he would never be able to trace where Lord Portland had gone in that alley, but he had to try.

  Doctor Jones contemplated for a moment before he said, “I would advise against horse riding, but a gentle carriage should be safe enough.”

  “Thank you,” Jules said. Now all he had to do was convince his hosts that he did not need to stay the night. Which by what Lord Winchester had said, would be pretty impossible.

  The doctor was already gathering up his bag when Jules looked back to him. “Get some rest, Your Grace, and if you do change your residence merely let me know so that I can call on you.”

  “Of course, Doctor,” Jules said. He watched the man leave the room before sitting up slightly. He winced, but it was not as bad as it could have been, Jules guessed. He looked at the tray of food beside him. His host would be more apt to let him go his way if Jules could show he was on the mend, but he simply could not bring himself to eat anything off the tray.

  Jules groaned at the thought of eating with the Lord and Lady Winchester. Their daughter seemed to have a good head on her shoulders but then perhaps Jules’ appreciation of her had more to do with how lovely she was. He hated to even admit it, but it had been a long three months. The funeral and revenge had isolated him so thoroughly that it was not really all that unexpected that he should be enamoured with the clever, young woman.

  She had certainly seen Jules clearer than even he saw himself, but she did not know what all helping him would entail. That really was for the best. She should not help him, and Jules should not encourage it at all. Though Lady Withersfield hardly seemed like she needed his encouragement, and she certainly did not need his permission to do as she pleased.

  Jules smiled in amusement as he thought of the way the young woman had stood up to her own father. Jules, himself, would never have been so bold as that at her age. How old was the young woman? Jules wagered she was eighteen or nineteen. Jules was older, of course, but hardly wiser. At the beginning of his twenty-fourth year on this earth, he had scarcely bothered to think of life without his parents. Jules assumed he would be older by far when his father retired and gave the titles and duties over to him.

  Lord Portland had said that no one had profited quite as much as Jules, and in a way, he supposed that he was right. Although, the Duchy was never something that Jules craved. Being an only son, he was guaranteed to inherit it, and he had never been in a hurry for that day. Having the title meant taking a seat in the House of Lords. It meant having a duty that expanded further than family. Jules had never longed for that.

  He was, however, prepared for it. Jules’ father had insisted that Jules know every bit of the family business, properties, and duties inside and out. He had spent long days working a
longside his father, only to fail him at the man’s death. Jules had been so grief-stricken he had let Lord Portland steal away a profitable contract. Jules knew that his father would have been furious with him if he had known.

  Jules mourned until he could mourn no more, then he took up the mantle of Duke. He swore he would find his parents’ killers. Jules felt his blood boil with the echoed fury that still pumped in his veins.

  “I won’t fail them now,” Jules promised. “How can I when I have come so far? No. I will not be sidetracked and delayed. I will leave here before I am seduced by this maddening loneliness.”

  There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Jules called.

  The servant from earlier that morning came in. “Begging your pardon, Your Grace,” the woman asked. “I was sent to see if you were through with your meal, but it appears you have not touched it.”

  Jules glanced over at the tray. How long had he been sitting there lost in thought? “I am afraid that I am not very hungry. The doctor said it was normal that I would not be at this time and assures me that my appetite will return.” Jules added the last part so that if any question was brought up as to why Jules did not eat, the servant could at least answer.

  She nodded her head and came over to scoop up the tray. Jules asked, “Your name is Gretchen, is that right?”

  Her eyes widened, and she nodded. “Yes, Your Grace,” she said as if she were truly honoured that he had remembered her name.

  “You know the young mistress pretty well, do you not?” Jules truly had no idea why he was bothering to ask, but he just could not stop the words.

  Gretchen nodded. “Oh yes, Your Grace,” Gretchen said with a nod. “I have worked with the family for years.”

  “Does she often help strange men who have been stabbed?” Jules found it amusing when the woman’s eyes widened at his question. He laughed. “I am only just entertaining myself,” Jules said to make her relax.

  She laughed at his words, but it was a nervous laugh. Jules knew that laugh. He had heard it before at parties and dinners, and he gave the servant a smile. “I really did not mean to make you uncomfortable. You seem to have great loyalty to the Winchester family.”

  There was a moment, just a moment when the woman’s face lay open before she covered it with a smile. At that moment, Jules saw not loyalty but more fear. Jules let the servant’s smile stand without him calling out what he had seen.

  Jules had seen how the woman had reacted when she thought she might get caught in the hallway while he talked with Lady Withersfield. There was no need to lay more worry about her. Jules gave her a friendly smile. “Thank you,” Jules said as she turned towards the door.

  She stammered, “Y-you are most welcome, Your Grace.”

  Jules watched her leave and sighed. Alone again, he looked at the square of sunlight that covered the foot of his bed. There was little he could do but follow the doctor’s orders and rest even if doing so made him feel as if he were neglecting his duty to his parents. He laid back and closed his eyes.

  The fear that he would be in the forest again swept over him. Jules pushed the thought away lest it open the door to that place. He thought of rest and comfort as he let the fatigue drag him under into a deep dreamless sleep.

  ***

  The manservant who helped Jules get ready was older than he was, but not by that many years. Jules was stiff and sore. The world still tilted at odd times, and he was weaker than he would have liked.

  “What is your name?” Jules asked to fill the space as the manservant seemed content to work on laying out Jules’ clothes in silence.

  The man’s hair was brown, but it had a hint of red in its depths. He kept his hair short and neatly combed. Likely his master would accept nothing else if the man wished to keep his employment status.

  After a moment the manservant said, “My name is Scott.” There was a touch of an accent that Jules found vaguely familiar.

  “I would say that it was a pleasure to meet you,” Jules jested, “But I do wish we had never found our way to this particular room.”

  Scott, the manservant, chuckled. “I can understand that, Your Grace.”

  “I warn you that the ground tilts at odd times so I may lose my balance,” Jules told Scott as he motioned for Jules to stand up so that his trousers could be lifted into place.

  Scott assured Jules, “I shall brace you, Your Grace.”

  With a slight shake in his muscles, Jules used Scott’s shoulder to steady himself while Scott secured his trousers. When Jules finally sat back down, it was with a sigh of relief. “I do say, getting down the stairs might be a feat.”

  “We shall make it, Your Grace,” Scott said as he held out Jules’ shirt to him. Jules took the soft shirt and looked at the new stitching in the seam of one of the sleeves. Scott noticed Jules’ attention to the seam and said, “We had to mend them in places. You tore it during the incident last night at some point, Your Grace.”

  Jules nodded and pulled the shirt on his left arm with little effort, but when he went to put his right arm in, he was halted by the pain. There was a pulling sensation in his side. As he sucked in a breath through his teeth, Scott was over to him quickly. “Let me make sure you didn’t pull your stitches,” Scott said with no time for adding honorifics onto his words. Jules did not mind the oversight at all. It grew rather tiresome that everyone adorned every sentence with words such as “your grace.”

  “They look fine,” the man said with obvious relief. “Let’s try putting the right arm in first,” Scott suggested as he slipped the shirt off of Jules’ left arm.

  Jules had to admit that it was considerably easier to put the right arm in first. Then all Scott had to do was pull the shirt around so that Jules could slip his left arm in. With the shirt in place, Scott buttoned it and then repeated the process for putting on Jules’ waistcoat. Jules noted where the fabric of both the shirt and waistcoat had been mended and remembered the blade that had stabbed through the fabrics into his ribs.

  The blue tailcoat was something that Jules was thankful to see. He had felt lost when he had seen it gone, and of all his possessions, it was the thing that brought him the most comfort to have returned. Scott laid the tailcoat over the bed to be put on last.

  After a long ordeal of dressing, Jules was so tired that he would almost have opted to stay in the room and forgo the meal. However, that meant he would have to take off all of the clothing he had just put on, and he did not think he could stand that any better. Scott, at last, helped him slip on his tailcoat, and Jules steeled himself for the trip down the stairs.

  The journey down the stairs was easier by far than Jules had imagined. The ease of it made Jules long to leave and be back to his investigation. The longer he stayed here, the colder the trail would be. There was nothing to be done about it at present, but he should take his leave as soon as possible.

  “Do you know if your master or mistress contacted my household to inform them of where I am?” Jules asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

  Scott shook his head. “I do not know, Your Grace.”

  “I suppose I shall find out soon enough,” Jules said. Once on the smooth and thankfully unmoving floors at the base of the stairs, Jules had a much easier time trying to maintain his balance.

  Scott said, “Just a moment, Your Grace.” The man was swiftly over to a tin by the door as he retrieved a walking stick from several that were awaiting use. “Try this, Your Grace. I think it might help a bit and give you a bit more dignity than me pulling on you.”

  “Thank you,” Jules said with gratitude for the man’s thoughtful gesture. The cane sat in his hand very well, and it was a nice height too. “Yes, I think this shall help greatly,” Jules said with confidence.

  Now if only Jules could just skip the evening meal altogether, he would be in a much better mood. Alas, he was sure that his host would notice if he simply disappeared. Jules had to admit that he did owe the family for their kindness as Scott fell into s
tep beside him. The man did not interfere with Jules, but he kept a watchful eye out for things that Jules might need help with.