Chapter Twenty-Two
William smiled as he slipped on his boots and headed down the stairs, taking them two at a time.
He could hardly wait to surprise Penelope and Millie on their morning walk about the lake this morning.
The golden glow of the sunrise hit his face as he reached the final step of the landing and he paused. Glory be.
He walked forward and stared out the large windows of the front parlour of the Manor on to the lush green lawn.
A soft mist hovered above the glistening dew-covered grass and a striking golden orange with hints of pink and violet streaked across the tops of the large, towering oaks and other hardwoods for as far as his eyes could see.
It could not have been a more glorious morning. The only thing missing was spending it with his two favourite people in the world: the woman he loved and his daughter. Loved. He stilled at the revelation of it, but it was true. He was certain.
It didn’t matter that he couldn’t remember the moment they met or the first blush he had seen upon her cheeks.
He loved her now and that was enough. And Millie adored her, too.
They were a perfect little trio, it seemed.
He could not have wished for anything more.
Perhaps he was never meant to remember. Based on what he had been told of his past, it might have been a blessing.
No matter. The sunrise was wasting. He gathered his coat from the hook in the hallway, waved a greeting to Mrs Chisholm and Mr Simmons and headed out the back door.
The crisp, cool, clean air refreshed him even more than he expected and he sucked in a full heady breath before setting out through the meadow.
Soon, the wet grass ringed the hem of his dark trousers and he chuckled. Penelope’s dress and Millie’s would be soaked through, but no matter. Mrs Chisholm would just cluck her disapproval and command them to change and sweet Millie would refuse until Penelope talked her into it.
He saw their figures far off in the distance at the opposite side of the lake.
It was too far for him to discern what they were doing, stooped and looking into the thick grass along the side of the water.
He called out to them, but they didn’t move.
Evidently, his voice did not carry across the water as he had hoped.
He stopped and plucked two wildflowers, one for each of them, and continued.
Soon they were clearly in view and he called to them.
‘Good morning, my sweet ladies,’ he said. ‘A flower to match your beauty.’ He bowed and then extended a flower to each of them.
Millie giggled and rushed to him. She hugged his knees and took the flower, holding it against her nose. She smiled. His heart soared at the joy in her face. He was right to have risen early to join them this morning. He congratulated himself on his choice.
He glanced up at Penelope, who he hardly recognised in her simple, worn brown gown. Something about it was familiar. She pointed to a tiny pack of furry ducklings. ‘Look! Another hen and her brood. They are beautiful, are they not? Millie found them.’
His head ached and he stilled, closing his eyes as a rush of memory flooded him.
‘Perhaps you and your father could also help me this morning. When I came out, I heard a little duckling quacking. She is all alone on the other side of the pond, which is why I was in search of its mother on this side. I need to reunite them, but I do not wish to scare the tiny creature. Perhaps she knows you both well enough to allow you to move her without injury and bring her back over here once we find her mother?’
Millie’s eyes widened with excitement and she tugged his hand, urging him to follow. ‘Of course, Miss Potts,’ he replied. ‘And we know just where the mother and the duckling’s siblings are. We passed the little brood on our way to you.’
Miss Potts nodded. ‘Follow me, then.’ She rose and began the trek back to the other side of the pond.
They reached the site where the small duckling continued to quack and shiver, cold and scared from being alone for so long in the cool wet grass. ‘I do not know how to move her,’ Miss Potts said.
‘When I was a boy, we used to scoop them up in our coats and hold them close to our chest, which of course made our mother livid. They are not the cleanest of creatures.’
‘Oh? I will try that, then.’ She removed her wrap and gently scooped up the tiny duckling, humming to it as she slowly nestled it to her chest. Its tiny orange-webbed feet pushed against her chest like a tiny flutter until it decided to trust her and settled, releasing one final plaintive squeak.
The poor thing didn’t know what she was about.
Millie let go of his leg and approached her.
Gently, she ran her hand over the tiny duckling who chirped at the girl’s touch.
Millie laughed with glee and Miss Potts did, too.
‘William, are you unwell?’
He looked up into the beautiful brown eyes of the woman he knew to be Penelope, his betrothed, and the woman he loved, but it was also the same face as this Miss Potts from his memory. He didn’t understand. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. She gripped his arm.
‘William?’ her voice was overlapping with another memory that came rushing in from the past. This time he was in his study with her.
‘I would like to extend your offer of employment not only as Millie’s governess, but also as my fake betrothed. I think a Lady Penelope Denning would do nicely,’ he said, his words rushing out. ‘Do you think you could do that?’
‘I am sorry, Your Grace. I don’t think I understood you.
I would love to remain on as Millie’s governess, but that last part…
Did you say you wish for me, an orphan from Stow, to also pretend to be your betrothed as some other person entirely?
’ She worried her hands in her lap and her eyes were wide and searching.
A beat of silence passed, then he sat back in his chair, his hands sliding down the curved wooden armrests before covering the painted gold flowers at the ends. He met her gaze. ‘Yes, Miss Potts, that is exactly what I wish for you to do.’
‘Why?’ she asked.
‘A fair question,’ he replied and stood. He walked along the outline of the room as he thought and tucked his hands in his trousers.
He paused in front of the portrait of the late marchioness and turned.
‘In the simplest terms, Miss Potts, I cannot take a new bride, but the ton will give me and my daughter no peace until I am adequately…unavailable. I cannot ask a woman of high society to fill such a role as they all know one another and will gossip about such a ruse and embarrass me, and so, my hope was that you being from Stow and far removed from here and someone who cares for my daughter and whom my daughter adores would help me with this…endeavour.’
‘You mean lie to everyone?’
‘Yes.’ He supplied no excuse in what he had asked. ‘After speaking to Dr Kemplar, I feel I must do something drastic to protect my daughter. He said we cannot risk more situations such as this morning. She is too fragile.’
‘Again, Your Grace, why me? Who in the world would look at me and believe I am a lady of…anything?’
He studied the fine features of her face.
‘It is no secret my daughter adores you, Miss Potts. You are willing to risk your life to keep her safe as I have seen this morning. Also, you are not of the ton and from what I can see do not have a deceitful bone in your body. In short, I trust you. And I believe with the right clothes, hair and training in the ways of society, you would be quite…believable.’ His gaze roved over her slowly, hesitating on her face.
He was certain in his next statement. ‘Quite believable, in fact.’
‘You are not my betrothed, are you?’ he accused, shaking off her hold with ferocity.
His heart raced in his chest and he felt short of breath.
All he had long forgotten rushed back. His cheating wife.
The scandal of the past. The deception and lies from Cecily that had nearly destroyed him.
And the lies of this woman, who he knew… yet didn’t know at all.
The woman stilled. ‘Millie,’ she said quietly, never taking her eyes from him as if he were a threat, like a rabid dog, and a danger to them all. Perhaps he was. ‘Go inside and tell cook to prepare your scones with jam. I will come in to join you later…with your father.’
The girl nodded, setting fearful eyes upon them.
‘It will be fine, sweet girl,’ the woman said sending her a smile before encouraging her to go, giving her a reassuring pat to her back. His daughter cast her one last glance of confusion and jogged out towards the Manor. Once she was far enough away, he set his gaze upon the woman again.
‘Who are you?’ he asked. He clenched his hands by his sides. ‘Are you Miss Potts? Penelope?’
‘Are you remembering?’ she asked, her tone hopeful but timid.
‘Yes,’ he accused. ‘And I am remembering that you are not this Penelope Denning, but a governess. And not my betrothed as you pretend to be.’
She took a step back. ‘Yes,’ she replied simply as if that single word explained everything.
She clasped her hands before her and squared her shoulders.
‘My name is Hattie Potts. I am from Stow. I came here in early April to be Millie’s governess.
Then you asked me to pretend to be your betrothed, a Lady Penelope Denning.
Against my good judgement, I agreed for Millie’s sake and because I wished to help you.
When you had your accident and lost your memory, we agreed it best for me to continue pretending.
I have wanted to tell you the truth a thousand times, but I didn’t dare. ’
Her truth took the foundation out from beneath him.
Lightheadedness threatened and he leaned over, pressing his palms hard to his knees, and breathed.
This couldn’t be happening again. He couldn’t be betrayed by a woman he thought he knew and loved again.
Images of Cecily and this woman merged into one, a colliding of hopes, dreams and trust crushed into bits.
It didn’t matter that it seemed he had created part of this disaster.
She had lied to him and made him believe she loved him and he her.
That she was something other than what she was.
He let out a guttural roar of agony. ‘Go!’ he shouted. ‘Leave here. Now!’
She hesitated and didn’t move. To his utter shock, she held her ground.
‘I will not,’ she stated. ‘I love you…and you love me, too. We have spoken the words, no matter who you believed you said them to. That does not change…us.’
‘What?’ he said with a disbelieving laugh as he righted himself.
She stood before him with a lifted chin and flushed cheeks, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears as her bosom rose and fell as she breathed.
‘You heard me, Your Grace. You loved me. You almost made love to me when I was a lady yesterday, but I stopped you as I could not bear you not knowing the truth. You said you loved me when I was a lady. Why does it matter now when you discover I am from a lowly birth and a mere governess? That does not change love. At least it does not to me.’
He scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. The sight of her all glorious with raw emotion glistening off her like the morning dew almost undid his resolve to cast her out. He did care for her. He had created this illusion to begin with. But the memories and fear of the past conquered all.
The knowing of what lies and deceit did to him and his family and how he had been duped before by a lying, calculating woman, who had promised to love and honour him until death they did part as his wife, undid all he felt for Hattie.
He shoved his care, his love for her aside and chose safety.
It was what his daughter and his position as a duke deserved and demanded.
‘It changes everything,’ he finally said. ‘I cannot trust a liar, especially one bent on deceiving me for my rank and my wealth. I have survived that once before.’
She took a step forward. ‘I am no liar. I did as you asked of me. I did as Daphne and your household asked of me by continuing on with this ruse as you recovered. I did all of this for us because I love you. But you…you are just like my father I never knew. Just like those drakes along your pond. Once you have claimed what you want or you feel you deserve better, women like me have no purpose for you, just as they have no purpose for those ducks. And I believed you were different. That you were more than a selfish, arrogant duke. But I was wrong, so wrong. Trudy was right. I should never have trusted you. I am better off without you if you believe so ill of me and who I am.’
He stood speechless as he watched her walk away.
Anger, confusion and hurt duelled within him, but in the end, anger won out.
He was better off without her, too. He’d known enough liars to last a lifetime.
He had one last look at the sun that now burned full and bright above him.
So much for a glorious morning. He stormed inside and shouted for Mr Simmons and Mrs Chisholm.
He would get to the bottom of exactly how it had come to this point if it was the last thing he did.