His Temporary Duchess (Dukes Ever After #5)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

The Marlingford Ball

A head of fiery red hair, caught up in bouncing curls, surrounded a pale, delicate face with verdant eyes.

Juliet Semphill at thirteen years old already stood as tall as most ladies in attendance. Her dress was simple shades of green silk to compliment her coloring. She wore no jewelry but most didn’t notice, so startling was the shade of her eyes and hair. She stood in a corner of the study, surrounded by three stern-faced men.

A woman sat in a corner of the same room. The shoulder of her dress was torn and she was weeping, hands over her face. Her hair was coal black and lustrous, her gown flowed over the generous lines of her body. Juliet looked from one stern strange face to another, wide-eyed and frightened.

“Tell us what you saw, girl,” muttered Duncan Kimberley, the Duke of Marlingford.

He towered over her and the other two men. His hair was iron gray and his face, Roman and patrician. His broad shoulders had taken on a slump as he had entered old age but were still wide. His stomach was bound tightly behind a buttoned coat. Juliet looked at him and swallowed, licking her lips, trying to find the words.

The issue was that she did not know what she had seen.

The home of the Duke and Duchess of Marlingford was large, even palatial and she had wanted to explore, find a quiet corner to rest from the pitying eyes of strangers. She had wandered hallways and rooms until she opened a door to a darkened study and saw…

“Damn it, girl! Do not be disobedient. My daughter was assaulted and you were a witness!” Marlingford boomed, raising his voice.

“Juliet. You must tell us,” coaxed his son, Hugh Kimberley, the Viscount Chalford.

Hugh’s wife was the woman crying in the corner. Not a daughter to Marlingford by birth, simply by marriage. Hugh Kimberley was a pale shadow of his father. Slighter in frame and height with brown hair that seemed thinner than the silver mane his father sported. Neither man noticed Meredith Kimberley looking over at the interrogation between the fingers of her hands. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying and there was a bruise rising on one cheek. But the look she directed at the questioning was cool and calculating.

“I was… I was exploring,” Juliet began haltingly, “I wanted to look around this fine house.”

“Yes, yes, yes. Get on with it,” Marlingford barked.

“I didn’t know where I was going or where I was. I opened a door and there was a scream. I saw Lady Chalford on the floor and a man standing over her,” Juliet stammered.

“The man was assaulting her?” Hugh Kimberley demanded, his voice growing strident.

“Would you recognize him?” Marlingford put in at the same time.

“Do you know who he was?” said the third man, who had not yet spoken. He was thin with hollow cheeks and veins bulging on the backs of his hands. Sir Graham Randalph MP, a member of the government and friend of the Duke of Marlingford.

At that moment the door to the study opened and a tall, willowy woman burst in. She had hair as fiery and red as Juliet. A dark beauty spot occupied a prominent space high on her right cheek. It was painted not unlike the similar spot on Juliet’s left cheek. A man followed her, very much in her shadow. He had neither her height nor presence. His stomach was a circle that was barely held in check by his dress clothes, as were his chins.

“May I ask what is going on here?” Margaret Godwin demanded in a voice as clear as a bell. She directed her attention to Marlingford, “Your Grace, that is my niece. What trouble has she gotten herself into now?”

Her gray eyes were hard upon her niece, finding fault and blame before their owner knew anything of the circumstances. Marlingford looked from Margaret to Juliet and took a deliberate step backward. His son licked his lips and followed suit, as did Sir Graham. Juliet found herself standing behind an invisible moat which the three men were now apparently unwilling to cross.

“Aunt Margaret…” she began.

“Do not Aunt Margaret me, young lady! You were allowed to attend on the condition that you would be on your best behavior. Now what do I find?”

“She is the daughter of the Baroness of Larkhill?” Marlingford asked, taking another backward step and wiping his hands on the front of his coat.

“She is. My sister’s daughter and only child,” Margaret replied, haughtily.

Juliet looked at the widening circle of men who, until a moment ago, had been so frightening. Now she saw the fear in their eyes and knew its cause. As much as she wanted to be out of that room, she felt dismay at their reasoning for backing away.

“It isn’t catching, you know,” she said quietly, looking at the floor, “my mother’s illness, I mean. You can be in the same room. Breathe the same air—”

“Hold your tongue, child!” Margaret interrupted.

“Apologies, Your Grace. She wasn’t always like this,” Gilbert Godwin hastily added.

“Your niece is a witness to a grievous offense committed against me,” Meredith sobbed.

She rose to her feet unsteadily and crossed the room to Juliet’s side. Glaring at the men, she took Juliet’s hand as if to show that she was not afraid of the illness.

“Lady Swindon,” she addressed herself to Margaret. “I was accosted by the Marquess of Somerset, a man I had judged to be honorable.”

She turned to Juliet and forced a smile through her tears. “Do not be afraid, Juliet. Just as I am not. Tell your Aunt and Uncle what you saw. Be truthful now.”

The act of taking Juliet’s hand meant that she could no longer hold in place a wayward piece of torn fabric at her shoulder. It chose that moment to fall, exposing the milky white skin beneath and threatening to reveal part of one breast.

Hugh Kimberley was slapped in the chest by his father with the back of one meaty hand. Thus prompted, he hastily removed his coat and draped it about his wife’s shoulders to cover her nakedness.

Juliet felt inordinately grateful at the simple gesture of a stranger taking her hand. She was used to being shunned but Lady Meredith’s act made her feel as though she weren’t an outcast. A little of the fear she had once felt upon being dragged into this room and questioned was assuaged.

“He was like a wild thing. Pressing his suit, and when I refused him…” Meredith stammered, voice rich with tears, “…when I reminded him that I am a happily married woman, he struck me.”

“Did you see this, Juliet?” Aunt Margaret asked, archly. “Speak up!”

Juliet thought back to the scene that had been revealed upon the opening of the door. Meredith had been on the floor, one arm raised above her head as though to protect herself. A man with dark hair had been standing over her. He had been tall and broad, a giant in Juliet’s eyes. But, hadn’t his face been concerned? Had he been reaching down to Meredith with an open hand, as though to help her up?

She opened her mouth to speak and glanced at Meredith, who gave her a brave smile and nodded. Juliet swallowed her words. How could she gainsay Meredith? Meredith would not say she had been struck unless that had happened. It could have happened before Juliet entered the room. Then the man who struck her had regretted his action and tried to make amends. Perhaps the blow was entirely accidental?

“I heard a scream and opened the door. This lady was on the floor and a tall, dark-haired man was standing over her.”

“He struck me. You saw that too,” Meredith hastily added. “The door was open before he struck me. I screamed after the blow, when he was standing above me. You saw, didn’t you , Juliet?” she finished firmly.

Juliet had not seen.

But looking into Meredith’s pupils, she was suddenly afraid. Her hand tightened around Juliet’s and there was a hardness to her stare. Juliet glanced around at the circle of hostile faces. She did not know any of them except for Aunt Margaret and Uncle Gilbert. All were staring at her, waiting for her answer. The events she had remembered clearly just a moment ago now changed. Had the door already been open? It could have been. Had she seen that giant of a man strike this nice lady? She was bruised and she had been on the floor, so she had indeed been struck.

“Without a witness, that man will never face justice for what he has done,” Meredith whispered into Juliet’s ear. “That would not be fair, now, would it?”

Juliet nodded, swallowed, and cleared her throat.

“He struck her. I saw it,” she said clearly.

Meredith patted her hand and smiled. It was a smile of warmth and affection. It reassured Juliet that she was doing the right thing. This was not a bad person. Whomever the man was that had struck her, he was the bad person.

“He struck her down and I think he would have struck her again had I not walked in.”

This was an embellishment, but she was encouraged by Meredith’s broadening smile of reassurance and the fact that she still held Juliet’s hand. No one, not even her own Aunt, Uncle, or cousins would hold her hand. Even those who lived with her and knew that the disease that had struck down Juliet’s mother could not be caught still maintained their distance on a matter of principle.

Juliet smiled tentatively back at Meredith.

“Then there must be a reckoning,” Marlingford uttered gruffly, “this is a grievous insult to my family and it cannot go unchallenged.”

“…What do you mean, father?” Hugh asked, a note of hesitation in his voice.

Marlingford eyed his son for a moment and then turned away. “Nothing for you, my boy. Do not worry. I shall take care of this.”

He stomped from the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Hugh, old chap. We must talk,” Sir Graham quietly began, “I fear your father is impetuous. Let us try and remonstrate with him.”

Hugh nodded, leaving the room with Sir Graham who whispered to him as they went. Juliet looked to her Aunt Margaret who was watching her speculatively. She did not look happy, but then she rarely did. Uncle Gilbert hovered at her shoulder, waiting for his cue.

Meredith rose with a sigh. “This has been a trying evening. If you will excuse me, Lord and Lady Godwin, I believe I shall retire.”

There was no trace of tears in the Marlingford daughter’s voice now. She spoke clearly and firmly, not looking once at Juliet.

“If my niece should be needed to give further evidence, she will of course be made available, my lady,” Aunt Margaret smiled servilely. “Such ungentlemanly conduct cannot be permitted to go unpunished.”

“It cannot,” Uncle Gilbert echoed.

Meredith frowned, then nodded her head. “I trust my father-in-law will see to that, Lady Margaret. Lord Somerset shall rue the day he crossed me.”

To Juliet, that did not sound quite right. The meaning was clear but the wording was odd. She frowned, watching Meredith as she crossed the room. There was no longer any sign of the wracking sobs, the shuddering breaths, the burning cheeks. She glided with grace and dignity. Juliet did not know what to make of it.

As the door closed behind her, Aunt Margaret rounded on Juliet with fists planted firmly on her hips.

“Now, young lady, since you have decided to entangle yourself in the affairs of this esteemed family, you will hold steadfast to your account. I will not endure the humiliation of you wavering, nor will I forfeit the connections our family stands to gain from this scandalous ordeal. You saw that despicable man strike down Lady Meredith. His name is Lord Horatio, Marquess of Somerset—Horatio Templeton. Remember the details. You can describe him, can you not?”

“Tall and broad-shouldered,” Juliet furrowed her brows in thought. “His hair was dark, and it fell to his shoulders. His face was… square. He looked strong, but not a man yet. More like… a tall boy.”

“Enough of a man for this,” Aunt Margaret harrumphed. “That is good. Remember it and remember what you saw.”

“I did not make it up,” Juliet protested, feeling as though her veracity were in question.

“Good!” Aunt Margaret snapped. “This night shall have grave consequences for the Marquess of Somerset, mark my words.”