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

  “I heard only the sounds of a loud crash,” Lady Winchester said dismissively to her daughter. As Penelope took another step down onto the sidewalk in front of the manor house, Lady Winchester warned, “Penelope do not go jaunting off. It is probably just some swill who has fallen down on the slick stones of the street.”

  Penelope threw her mother a frown. “And what if it is not?” With her question thrown at her mother, Penelope took off as quickly as she dared. The dew had begun to collect on the stones in the dark and, indeed, the stones were rather slippery on the sidewalk.

  Behind her, Lady Winchester called, “Penelope!” There was a touch of fear in her mother’s voice, but Penelope had to see what the noise was about. If someone were in trouble, how would she ever forgive herself for not offering aid?

  “Stay there then,” Penelope called back. “I shall just go to the alley there and spy what it is that has happened. Bring the coachman to help when he gets here!”

  Lady Winchester stood under the lamplight. Penelope hurried off trying not to think about the frown on her mother’s face. Her mother had a particular look about her when she feared Penelope would be hurt in some way. Penelope tried not to think about what ways she could be hurt as she hurried towards the alley.

  Chapter 2

  (Manor home of the Earl of Havenshire, London. Earlier that same evening)

  Jules Daventry, Duke of Richmond, strode through the halls listening. He heard laughter, compliments, and more than his share of the impossible meanderings of people too rich to have any grounding in reality. He was one of these people, Jules reminded himself for the thousandth time. The home he was in belonged to one of his family’s dear friends, the Earl of Havenshire, and Jules had no great wish to disrespect the man or those he chose to spend time with. Up until three months ago, he was much like them, after all.

  The air of the April evening was quite chill, and even in the halls, the drafts were not to be deterred. Jules was glad he had worn his dark blue tailcoat for the occasion. His mother had always been fond of the dark blue colour on him, and Jules had found it comforting to wear the colour since the woman’s death.

  “Oh, you must not,” a young woman giggled somewhere to Jules’ left, and he turned his head to see what the issue was that had her in such amusement. A young man was busily reenacting some event for the young lady’s amusement.

  Jules shook his head and walked on away from the bemused pair. He caught snippets of conversations, but none were what he was looking for, and he sighed. He had come to the season, not to find a bride, but to find answers, and it looked like he would very much not find anything if this ball was to be the starting point for his enquiries.

  “Lord Daventry,” a male voice called to Jules.

  Frowning, Jules turned to find a familiar face. “Lord Portland, I did not know you were in attendance,” Jules said without trying to hide his surprise.

  “Nor I did I know that you would be here. I apologise for addressing you so familiarly, Your Grace. I was caught off-guard at seeing you,” the man said with a frown.

  Jules waved off the man’s concern. He had scarcely gotten used to his new role as Duke of Richmond and found it odd to have people speak to him as if he were his father.

  Lord Portland stopped near Jules and adjusted his cravat. “I fear my valet tied this thing entirely too tight.” Lord Portland hooked his finger in the fabric at his neck and tugged it a bit before sighing when he found some relief from the constriction. “Out scouring for a bride?”

  Jules looked around at the room full of women ensconced in their gowns that flaunted and stirred men to come to them. Jules said, “I am looking more for things that I cannot find I am afraid.”

  “Well, I am just glad to see you out. I have not heard much of you since the incident happened.” Lord Portland seemed to stumble over the last few words, and Jules watched the man.

  Jules cleared his throat. “I had things to attend to,” Jules said simply. Lord Portland had been there that night. He had seen what had transpired.

  “I am sure you did,” Lord Portland assured Jules. “Three months is a long time to be with yourself and your grief. Is there anything that I can do to help you?”

  Jules stared at the man for a moment. For months all he had wished was for someone to believe him, and there was a man of good stature offering him aid, and yet … Jules shook his head. “No. There is nothing you can do.”

  “I heard the courts found you blameless; that is at least something,” Lord Portland said. The man’s eyes went to a young lady who passed by. The woman’s eyes lingered on the nobleman as well before her escort tugged her away.

  Jules sighed. “Yes, but we all know that it is what the people in this room think, not the courts.” Jules smiled at the man. “Do not fret over me, Lord Portland. I fully intend to dispel all the rumours about my parents’ death. Nothing does that quite as well as the truth.”

  “Oh? Have you learned anything new about who could have been behind that night?” Lord Portland asked as he leaned in a bit as if to keep the conversation private between them.

  The nobleman before Jules reminded him of the night his parents were killed, poisoned. A draught of wine that should have killed Jules, but instead killed his parents. If he had just chosen not to abstain that night from alcohol, perhaps they would be alive. Jules hissed, “I do not wish to talk about that night.”

  “Very well,” Lord Portland said, albeit with a bit of reluctance.

  Jules narrowed his eyes at the man. “You seem very interested.”

  “I was there,” Lord Portland reminded Jules. “I could have swallowed that poison myself. I dare say that I have a right to be curious.”

  Jules snarled, “Did not seem to bother you while you were stealing from my family.”

  Lord Portland adjusted his waistcoat and said in a low voice, “Keep your voice down. Do you really need any more scandal?” The man eyed Jules for a moment before he shook his head. “I had every right to those shipping contracts. Your father and I often bidded against each other; you know that as well as any here do, Your Grace. I would advise you to keep your slander in your thoughts. I shall not be so lenient if I hear it again.”

  “You cannot cowl me, Lord Portland. The fact remains that very few others benefitted from my parents’ death the way you did,” Jules said with conviction. He pulled himself up to his full height, which was quite impressive as Jules stood a good two inches taller than Lord Portland at his six-foot height.

  Lord Portland shook his head at Jules as if he were not at all impressed by Jules’ station or title. The man smiled ever so slightly and said, “No one except for you, Your Grace.” Lord Portland turned on his heel and walked away with Jules glaring at his back.

  Scowling, Jules watched Lord Portland go over and strike up a conversation with the same young lady who had passed by Jules and the nobleman earlier with her escort. Someone clearing their throat behind him attracted Jules’ attention away from the suspicious nobleman. Turning, Jules’ scowl only deepened. “Duchess,” Jules said in as falsely flat tone.

  If the woman noted Jules’ displeasure at seeing her, then she did not let on. “Duke,” Lady Sutton said with a smile. “I appear to have lost both my husband and my niece. Have you seen them?”

  “I cannot say that I have,” Jules said. “Perhaps they are in the next room.”

  Despite Jules’ suggestion, the noblewoman seemed in no hurry to go after her wayward family members. She reached out and put her hand on his arm. “I have meant to apologise to you, Duke. My husband and I were out of the country and could not attend your parents’ funeral. They were kind people.”

  “Being out of the country is more than enough to persuade anyone into forgiving you and your husband, Duchess,” Jules said as he subtly removed his arm from her grasp. She gave him a faltering smile. “Pardon me, but I have to go meet someone.” Jules did not even care if the excuse was as flimsy as the woman’s gauzy sleeves; he had enough of
repeating platitudes the month after his parents’ deaths.

  Besides, Jules noted that Lord Portland was on the move again. Apparently, the conversation with Lord Portland’s paramour was not amusing enough to keep the man rooted for too long. Jules gave Lady Sutton a half-hearted bow as she looked at him with something akin to confusion. He did not worry about his odd behaviour for Lady Sutton would also put herself at risk to be denounced for her forward behaviour. Jules had long suspected the woman was carrying on affairs behind her husband’s back, and he had no interest in being counted among the number of her conquests.

  Jules had other things on his mind than women. If Lord Portland knew of anyone that might have harmed his parents or was even in league with them himself, then he would certainly make haste for his conspirators to let them know that Jules was unwilling to let the matter lie. Jules spied the back of the man’s head moving towards the hallway.

  Without any more thought of the infuriating Duchess, Jules moved away through the knots of nobles and peers. Conversations floated around Jules as he frowned. He had lost sight of the Earl of Portland again. Where could the man have gone?

  “Someone has to inherit the land and look after things once your father is gone,” a woman said, and Jules turned his head slightly to catch sight of the person speaking but could not see them.

  “And I as a woman cannot do those things,” a young lady said. Jules smiled as he made his way through the crowd and spotted the two ladies, which were clearly mother and daughter by the tell-tale sign of their hair and faces. The older woman Jules thought he knew, but he was uncertain of her name.

  Jules chuckled as the mother began to reprimand her willful daughter. He had to focus on the matter at hand. As much as he felt a kinship with the girl at that moment at the utter absurdity that was this London Season, Jules had other things that he needed to attend to.

  “Your Grace,” a female voice said at his elbow. Jules had to forcibly stop himself from groaning as he turned to see the Dowager Reynolds and her niece.

  Jules put a smile firmly on his face and gave the women a bow. “My good Lady Reynolds, you look as if you are here to finally throw off the yokes of solitude and find a partner.”

  The older woman laughed jovially and waved off Jules’ words. “Not at all,” she assured him. “I am merely here to play escort to my niece. May I present, Miss Henrietta Douglas, to you, Your Grace?” Dowager Reynolds gave her niece an impatient, yet gentle shove forward which sent the young lady up onto her tiptoes.

  Jules just managed not to laugh at the very literal picture of the dowager throwing her niece at him. The girl mumbled, “It is wonderful to meet you, Your Grace.” She gave a stilted and sloppy curtsy that Jules held no grudge against her for.

  “Never you mind the nerves, Miss Douglas. They get better with time,” Jules assured the young lady whose cheeks were coloured a deep pink by this time with the stern gaze of her aunt burning into her.

  Miss Douglas gave Jules what appeared to be a grateful smile before her aunt apologised for the intrusion and ushered the girl away. Jules could hear the hissing of the woman’s breath as she redressed the young lady for her awkwardness. The London Season could be a cruel place when someone first took a step into the world of high society, Jules mused as he turned again towards the door that he had seen Lord Portland go through.

  Jules made it a couple of feet towards his goal when a hand clasped around his arm. The pressure was so great that Jules thought the person might just mean him harm, but he turned to see his childhood friend Thomas Sullivan, who was now a Count if Jules remembered correctly. “Tom,” Jules whispered, unable to say more.

  Thomas nodded at him. “Your Grace,” Thomas said with a glint in his eyes that Jules did not like.

  “There is no need for such titles,” Jules chided. “As long as we have known each other we should look on the other as a family would.”

  Thomas’ hand dropped back to his side. “Your parents were also my family. They loved me well and I them.”

  “I miss them too,” Jules said as he tried his best not to take offence at the way Thomas’ eyes stared right through him. “I have not seen you since they were laid to rest. I suppose you have been busy.”

  Thomas said, “Yes. An uncle of mine passed away and left me some land and his mantle of count. I have been trying to sort out if that makes me still myself or am I someone else now?”

  “Titles do not change men,” Jules told his old friend.

  Thomas’ blue eyes came up and locked onto Jules’ darker eyes. “You know very well that they do,” Thomas practically growled out in a low whisper.

  Jules was taken aback by his friend’s anger. “That is true,” Jules admitted. “Titles and property can make men forget themselves at times, but not you, Thomas. I would never imagine that of you.”

  “Nor I you,” Thomas said with a hard edge in his voice.

  Jules could not bear to look at his friend. He knew that most of society held him at the gallows for his mother and father’s deaths, but to see the accusation in Thomas’ eyes was too much even for Jules. As ready as he had judged himself for this, Jules would bet that not even the gaze of Hades would be as cold as the look in Thomas’ eyes.

  “I did nothing to my parents,” Jules whispered as he trembled with outrage that he held in check behind the iron bars of his will. His voice was soft, but it would not stand to give an inch.

  Thomas whispered back as he stepped a bit closer, “Would that you had died instead of them.”

  Jules could do scarcely more than breathe. Thomas looked right at him, into his very core, and had judged him guilty as all the others. Jules’ torment was that he agreed with Thomas. He should have died instead of his parents. That poison should have killed him. It was his to take, and he abstained. Of all the nights, Jules chose that moment not to drink the spirits, and his parents were taken from him as punishment.

  Jules was barely aware of Thomas’ departure. He stood there a long while tormented by his own demons. How they laughed at Jules’ agony as they salted his wounds and drank his tears.

  Finally looking around Jules found himself alone. A couple of ladies nearby regarded him with damning glances. How long had Jules been standing there? He did not know.

  Thomas and Lord Portland were gone. Jules forced himself to walk on to the door that let out into the hallway. He might have lost Lord Portland entirely, but he had nothing to lose in trying to find the man.

  ***

  The hallway was by no means empty when Jules peered out the doorway from the main room. There were knots of three or four partygoers talking here and there along its length as far as Jules could see in both directions. Yet there were no signs of Lord Portland.

  Jules sighed in frustration. How could he have allowed himself to be sidetracked while attempting to follow the man? Then again, what would he have done differently? Throw Dowager Reynolds and her niece out of his way like some savage?

  Without having anything to lose, Jules chose to go in the direction of the foyer. Surely, if the man was going to leave he would have to go that way. Jules gave a nod to one of the gentlemen that he recognised from his father’s business dealings. The man was a merchant of some sort if Jules remembered correctly. The man offered him a smile of recognition as Jules passed by.

  Being a Duke made it hard to go anywhere and not be recognised; Jules had found that worked both to his advantage and against him during the month that he had been attempting to find any bit of truth that could help him glean what had happened. Jules pressed his lips together and frowned at a lamp as he passed it. The lamp feigned innocence, but Jules glared at it all the same.

  The hall emptied out into the foyer where people who were arriving and leaving mingled together creating an ebb and flow like the way the waters mingled at the mouth of a river pouring into the sea. Jules scanned the crowd and caught sight of Lord Portland’s hat over the tops of some ladies’ bonnets. Jules murmured an apology as he brushed
past the women.