Chapter 3
Leicestershire,
A treasured locket open in her hands, Miss Elizabeth Eloise Feddleston sat by the window of the elegant sitting room—part of the suite assigned her at Leigh Chase. She stroked the pad of one thumb across the miniature within.
The handsome soldier depicted stared out at her with an intent moss-green gaze.
His square chin framed a generous mouth.
The resolute set of his broad shoulders spoke of the strength of his courage and determination.
Captain Prescott Aelfwyn Drake had given her the locket as a remembrance on the day she accepted his proposal of marriage.
A marriage that would never be, for darling Prescott was dead.
Betts sniffled back a tear. She had cried too much already. ‘Twas past time to lay Prescott and his memory to rest.
Outside the December day was gloomy and dreary, entirely too close a match to her thoughts.
The wind howled as it battled with the branches of the trees which more often than not fell to the snow, ice and cold of the windy assault.
In Betts’ heart, fear and worry did battle with her every attempt at the calm control she relied on to deal with disasters big and small, since the day of her mother’s passing.
That had been sixteen years ago. She’d been seven when she’d made her way from the nursery to her father’s study and found him mumbling into a glass, which she later learned was Scotch whisky.
Strathnaver’s best—nothing but the best for Squire Feddleston, regardless of what economies were necessary to acquire said best.
“London gentlemen won’t respect a man who wears shoddy clothes, serves second rate whisky, rides ill-bred hacks…” the list went on.
She pushed painful memories aside and tried to concentrate on the future.
Tried to convince herself she was doing the right thing.
The only thing. To save her brother and sisters from soul-killing lives planned by their cousin and new guardian, marrying Lord Tellus Leigh was the right thing, the only thing.
In a few short weeks, on Christmas Day, she would be married.
Her future husband, a kind, warm, generous man, like Prescott, yet Tellus Leigh was not the man of her dreams. He was a dear a friend who deserved better than the half measure of love that had been all she could promise him in exchange for the protection he offered her and her family.
She knuckled away a second tear. It should have been Prescott standing beside her in the church. However, Prescott Drake was dead, as were all of the dreams they had shared. In the wake of the news that he was missing and presumed dead had come a string of disasters that had led her to this moment.
It was imperative she marry quickly. Her lips twitched with a failed smile. No, she wasn’t enceinte. It was her siblings’ welfare that necessitated her quick nuptials.
They’d lived at the Feddlestone Grange for her entire life.
She’d foregone a come-out to save money and keep a roof over their heads.
Her father, if he knew of the difficulties his gambling caused, never acknowledged that sacrifice or any of the myriad others.
Phillip had not gone to Eton like every other Feddleston son.
No, he’d been educated by the local vicar whose kindness and generosity had been repaid with vegetables, eggs and mutton or pork from the Feddleston home farm.
The nursery maid had been let go before Betts was eight.
She’d raised her twin sisters, and her brother to the best of her ability.
Had it not been for the kindness of Tellus’ older brother, His Grace of Leigh, Betts was not certain how she would have managed. The duke, his aunt, ten brothers and two sisters had taken the motherless Feddleston brood to their hearts.
She and Lady Blythe Leigh, now Marchioness of Cynedroit, had been friends from the cradle.
They’d shared lessons with Blythe’s governesses and other tutors.
The duke had even kept those employees on to teach the younger Feddlestons.
The brothers, most of them older, had tolerated Betts and her sisters.
They’d taken her brother into their manly fold.
Not until 1811 when Betts made her first social appearance at a Leicester assembly did she and Tellus find a common bond over the tediousness of such functions.
Afterward, she’d begun to feel comfortable in company.
They had both confessed to being shy of strangers and agreed to help each other in difficult situations.
They’d even had a signal—a forefinger resting against the cheek would send one or the other to the rescue.
Then, a year or so later, Tellus had introduced her to Captain, Sir Prescott Drake.
Weeks afterward, when Tellus had called on her shortly after Prescott’s proposal, he’d confessed to a small jealousy. He feared he’d be losing his friend.
“Nothing of the sort, Tellus dear.” Betts had said. “Prescott and I owe you much. You will always be our friend.”
Tellus had celebrated with them at the private betrothal. They’d agreed not to announce their engagement until Prescott sold his commission. When he’d left to join the allied armies against Napoleon, Tellus had been the one he’d charged with watching over Betts and family.
It had helped, having a friend who missed Prescott nearly as much as she did.
The letter from one of Prescott’s fellow officers informed her he had vanished while carrying classified messages.
Evidence of a struggle had been found along with the charred remains of the letters and the corpse of his mount.
If Prescott had survived the fight he was most likely a French captive and his chances of survival were not good.
If he had evaded the enemy, he had been unable to return to his regiment. Either way, he was presumed dead.
Tellus had been with her when they learned of Prescott’s fate.
He’d held her hand and supported her in her grief.
Later, after her father had died in a hunting accident—at least that’s the story that had been put about—Tellus had been a stalwart source of advice and wisdom.
The truth was that her father had made a bet that he could make a nearly impossible jump.
Of course, he’d been drunk when he’d made the bet and more drunk when he made the attempt despite every effort by friends to stop him.
Betts wore mourning for Prescott, though nominally for her father. That time had been fraught with demands for payment from creditors. She’d sold furniture, paintings, her mother’s jewelry, anything that would keep the house and give them food and clothing.
The day her father’s heir and their guardian had ridden into the courtyard at Feddlestone Grange had been the last straw.
He’d made clear that she would no longer manage anything.
She would marry a man of his choosing—a wealthy old man willing to take her and pay off the family debts for the privilege.
Her brother and sisters would be sent to a parochial school and have the “nobility” beaten out of them if they refused to learn to be good Christians.
She’d considered taking her siblings and running away.
She had neither the funds nor the means.
The idea of marriage to an ancient sanctimonious stranger terrified her.
The fate awaiting her brother and sisters horrified her.
She’d escaped to the garden one day, and Tellus had found her there.
She’d poured out all her troubles and woes to him.
“I don’t know what to do, Tellus. Cousin Hector is the exact opposite of father, but completely unyielding.
I cannot allow him to send my siblings to that horrid school.
I’ve read about it, asked about it, and the place is infamous for its strict treatment of children.
It usually only takes in orphans and other children without resources.
Which Cousin Hector believes makes it perfect for my brother and sisters who have been raised with, to his mind, unwonted privilege and must be properly instructed in humility and industry before their souls are steeped in evil.
He has doubled the rents on the home farms and decreased the amount paid to laborers and local shop keepers.
He dispenses justice in the form of transportation, hanging or beatings.
He is intolerable, but I have no alternative. ”
“Marry me.” Tellus had blurted.
“Oh, sweet Tellus. Thank you, but you know my heart died with Prescott.”
“Yes.” He’d taken her hand. “I do know. I miss him too. Hear me out, please.”
“Very well.”
“Prescott charged me with looking after you.”
“Yes.”
“And you are in danger from your cousin’s machinations.”
“My guardian would not see it that way.”
“Nonetheless. What better way for me to honor Prescott’s wishes than to marry you and protect you and your family from your cousin?
I have a modest estate from a distant uncle and enough income from investments to be able to provide for you.
I can send your Phillip to school and hire a governess for your sisters.
I understand you. The Leigh name and the Duke’s authority will be yours.
You will have the life you should have had with Prescott. ”
She blinked back tears. “I am honored, Tellus. However, you are not Prescott. How can you wish to marry a woman whose heart is in the grave? A woman you know cannot love you.”
“Love comes in all sorts of forms and perhaps with time, you will be able to give me a morsel of the affection you had for Prescott.”
“And if that never happens?”
“Then I will count myself lucky to have a dear friend as my wife. You can be that without betraying Prescott. You can help me manage the properties and businesses of the Leigh family. You wouldn’t have to go to London and be involved in the ton.
Blythe will gladly take on all of that social responsibility, especially where your siblings are concerned.
Phillip would have ten older brothers to guide him.
The girls—Grace and Joy—will have dowries and all the opportunities given the nieces of a duke. ”
“I don’t know…”
“Think about it.”
She had nodded. “I’ll tell you my answer at next week’s assembly. I’ll save you the first waltz.”
She’d said yes. It really was the only reasonable solution.
Her cousin had protested until the Duke of Leigh had summoned him.
That conversation had been short and effective.
What the duke had said to Cousin Hector she did not know.
However, within the week she, Grace, Joy and Phillip had moved to apartments at Leigh Chase.
The marriage had been announced in the papers that November when the banns were first called and the wedding, a small—by ducal standards—family affair would take place at the St. Martin’s church in Leicester with the bishop presiding. The wedding breakfast would follow at Leigh Chase.
Then she and Tellus would be off on a honeymoon of sorts.
They would make stops at all the various properties owned by the Leigh family, including the brewery in Scotland, recently acquired by the Duke.
She’d always dreamed of visiting Scotland.
However, the dreams had included Prescott at her side.
How would it feel to have a different man sharing the moments that should become cherished memories?
A different man fathering the children who should have been Prescott’s.
Such questions were pointless. She must live in the world as it was. Her sisters and brother were already adjusting to their new situation.
“We love the new governess,” Joy—the more vocal of the twins—had said while Grace nodded enthusiastic agreement at her side. “We cannot wait to begin dancing lessons.”
“Oh, the tutor’s a good enough fellow,” her brother admitted when pressed for his feelings. “He’ll prepare me right properly for Eton, and that’s what I’m truly looking forward to.”
She should follow their example and put the past into the past.
And I shall in a few moments.
She closed the locket and gathered her skirts, preparing to leave, but continued staring out the window, her thumb caressing the locket.
She did not see the snowy blanket beyond the window.
She did not hear the crackle of wood in the hearth.
Instead, she saw the moment Prescott had spun her round as the music of their first waltz together had risen to a crescendo.
Her breath quickened, as it had then, and she’d taken moments to steady her breathing as the dance had ended.
“Thank you for a most entertaining dance and conversation, Captain Drake.” she’d said when she could. She had smiled, extending her hand.
He’d bowed, kissed the air above her gloved fingers. “It was a pleasure, Miss Feddleston. Might I call on you? I would enjoy continuing our discussion and perhaps expanding into other topics of mutual interest.”
Her heart had thrilled, and she had consented.
They had spent the next two months in each other’s company. By the time his orders came, he had spoken to her father, then proposed. She had accepted. They agreed to share the news only with close family and friends, but hold any announcement until he sold his commission.