The Wicked Duke's Innocent Bride

Chapter 1

Chapter One

“Do you purposefully seek infamy or does it simply follow you wherever you go, Benedict?”

Tall and broad-shouldered with dark-brown hair, Benedict Hale, Duke of Northwick, halted in his progress across the library at Wexford Manor and regarded his friend with a quizzical expression.

He had come to stay for a day or two at his friend’s invitation as he often did when seeking an escape from London’s noise and busyness.

Just outside Highgate, Wexford Manor was far enough for peace, but close enough to dive back into the social whirl again easily afterwards. Recently, Benedict often found he wanted peace far more than he wanted society. Maybe he was getting old…

He looked to his friend Damien Harrington, Duke of Wexford, who was sitting in a comfortable leather chair near the empty fireplace, one leg crossed over the other and a piece of printed paper brandished in his right hand.

“The morning press is finally arrived, I see,” Benedict observed with a small laugh, having noted the absence of this at breakfast. “Are the newspapers arrived too or only the scandal sheets? I have no interest in the latter. Ah yes, The Times. Let’s see what our government makes of Napoleon’s latest escapades, shall we? ”

He continued now across the room and sat down in a chair near his friend, picking up a newspaper from the table at Damien’s elbow on his way.

“You don’t need to read the scandal sheets,” observed the Duke of Wexford, with more amusement than disapproval, but more thoughtfulness than either. “You have already lived them. Forget Napoleon’s escapades – the ton will be more interested in yours this morning, I expect.”

“Will they, indeed?” replied Benedict vaguely, opening up the newspaper before him. “Well, I dare say there are many other gentlemen of the ton in today’s gutter press too. I am not the only man in London who declines to live by society’s rules.”

“True, but usually they’re left anonymous.

Your problem is that you’re too distinctive, Benedict,” pointed out his friend.

“Listen to this. ‘Can you guess, Friends, which married lady of high-standing left her carriage waiting until dawn outside the townhouse of a certain nobleman, as well-known for his skills as a lover as for having eyes of diverse hues, one blue and one green?’”

“I cannot help the unusual coloring of my eyes,” the Duke of Northwick objected mildly, denying nothing of the report’s actual content, nor revealing the name of the lady in question. “It is a freak of nature, I suppose. No one can take me to task for that.”

“No one is,” responded his friend, shaking his head with a weary smile. “However, I fear the day will come when you give rise to one scandal too many and the ton come baying for your blood.”

“Why should they?” replied Benedict, waving his hand dismissively.

"The ladies of my acquaintance are all of age and come to me of their own free will. Rich widows may do as they please, as far as I’m concerned, and the same goes for wives whose husbands do not take the trouble to satisfy them.

No one really cares, as long as I despoil no innocent young ladies. ”

Damien sighed.

“You are too old to be so reckless, Benedict. At five-and-thirty, you ought to be settled with a wife and children, thinking of heirs and your legacy to the duchy of Northwick, not gadding about the town like a mayfly. At Whites last night, no one talked of anything but your exploits.”

Now Benedict laughed good-naturedly and lowered his newspaper.

“You are mistaken, Damien, in assuming that what makes you happy will be equally good for everyone else. Men are all different, and so are women. I am glad that you found your duchess, and that you and Seraphine have such affection between you, but this is your life, not mine. As for your friends at Whites, they are as bad as old dowagers gossiping over afternoon tea.”

“But are you happy, Benedict? Truly?”

Benedict reflected now, his handsome face growing thoughtful as he turned over his friend’s question.

“I am not unhappy,” he admitted at last, “although I will own that I am sometimes weary. I am tired of evading the latest crop of ambitious mothers and accomplished daughters each new Season. I am tired of being gossiped about by fools. I am tired of having to justify the way I live when I am doing no harm. Perhaps I am tired of London itself.”

“I am actually glad to hear that, Benedict,” returned Damien, his smile now broadening into a grin. “Your being tired of London and its typical society leads me rather nicely into a favor I have to ask you.”

“I see,” chuckled Benedict. “Well, I’m relieved to know that you weren’t really leading into a long lecture on my lifestyle and morals after all. What is this favor? I dare say that if I can grant it, I will. We have been friends for a long time, after all.”

“I have two wonderful children, do I not?” began Damien, his expression both proud and teasing as he posed this question.

“Fanny and Ezra are certainly strong, healthy and not at all shy in making their presence felt,” responded Benedict with amusement of his own.

“I suppose a father might well see those qualities as wonderful. They might even be so at so tender an age. However, if Ezra still wets his pants and howls at such volume in twenty years, he will cause scandals of his own.”

Un-offended, Damien laughed too, then yawned and excused himself, evidently not having slept well recently.

“Yes, what is expected and even endearing behavior before the age of three would be social disgrace at three-and-twenty. I try to remind myself of that every time I am woken in the night, or forced to act as a horse or attendant to Fanny’s litter of twelve dolls during the day.

They both have a knack for escaping the clutches of their nursery attendants. ”

“Your life seems delightfully chaotic,” remarked Benedict, “although it is not one I would choose for myself. I am sure your children are blessings, but I am glad that it is you who are blessed and not me.”

They both laughed.

“But, could you cope with being blessed for a fortnight, do you think?” pursued the Duke of Wexford. “With appropriate support, of course.”

“What do you mean, Damien?” asked Benedict warily. “Don’t beat about the bush, man.”

“It is like this, Benedict. Seraphine and I have never yet managed to get around to the honeymoon we promised ourselves. It has been six years now since we married. My brother in Scotland is married to Seraphine’s sister.

They have invited us up to stay with them and then take our own holiday in the Highlands. ”

“That sounds very well to me,” said Benedict, not yet seeing where he fitted into this picture. “I’ve heard you both talk about a late honeymoon often enough, although you never quite get around to it.”

“No, I know. We kept putting it off until the children were a little older. I should like Seraphine and myself to have a week or two to ourselves, you see.”

“Does she not agree? Does she think the children still too young to leave? I can’t say I blame her, on reflection.

It would take more than a week or two to get up and down from the Highlands, never mind any holidaying while you were there.

Fanny and Ezra would have forgotten your names and faces by the time you returned. ”

At this careless remark, Damien blanched.

“That would be unthinkable,” he said quickly.

“No, the plan would be for Seraphine and I to go on ahead, and for the children to follow behind with their nursemaids. We would only be apart for a fortnight at most and Seraphine is amenable to that as long as we find someone we can trust completely to accompany the children.”

Benedict gave a snort of incredulous laughter.

“You cannot possibly be thinking of me!? Now that would be some real gossip for your friends at Whites – the Duke of Northwick becomes a governess!”

In response, Damien gave an even more incredulous snort.

“No, we’re thinking of Seraphine’s Aunt Beatrice and her cousin Lady Louisa. They’re both very good with children. However, I feel I cannot ask two ladies to undertake such a long journey without an escort and protector. That is where you come in.”

“Ah, yes, Lady Esher and her ward. Now, I see,” Benedict responded.

“You want me to deal with innkeepers, coach drivers and horses so that the ladies can watch the children and do whatever else respectable ladies do on long journeys. Look at scenery, I suppose, and talk about good deeds and charitable works.”

“Have you ever met them?” questioned Damien. “They’ve never really been part of the fashionable crowd, although they come to London sometimes for the various hospital and charity committees Lady Esher is involved with.”

“I don’t believe so, although I have heard something of Lady Esher… Yes, I remember now. She’s the elderly widow who once chased a would-be burglar from her London house with a sword, isn’t she? Does she really need a protector?!”

“That was Lady Esher,” confirmed his friend.

“Quite a character, although Seraphine would prefer that her aunt had no further occasion to take up weaponry, especially since she had such a bad case of influenza in the spring. Lady Esher won’t yet acknowledge it, but she is not yet at her full strength.

If there is trouble on the road, you must take charge and not let her strain herself. ”

“Is Lady Louisa made in the same formidable mold as her aunt?” Benedict asked. “As they live together, I assume they are close.”

Damien smiled, shaking his head

“Lady Louisa is six-and-twenty and more like a daughter than niece to her aunt. Lady Esher is a generous-hearted and motherly soul, but childless herself. She took young Louisa in after her parents died in a bad coach smash. They’re devoted to one another.”

“Well, they sound like exactly the sort of ladies who will have many good works to discuss in the carriage,” noted Benedict, thinking that overall the pair sounded very good, very worthy and likely very dull, even considering Lady Esher’s experience in battling intruders with a sword.

“I hope they won’t mind if I sleep on the road. ”

“I shouldn’t think so, although Ezra and Fanny might take exception.”

“Surely, the children will ride with the nursemaids, won’t they?” asked Benedict, slightly surprised at the idea that he might be riding with Fanny and Ezra.

“Only if they don’t like you, Benedict, and unfortunately they do. I asked Fanny only yesterday what she thought of you and she told me you made a fine horse.”

Benedict groaned.

“So, the little vixen was testing my horse skills around the garden yesterday, was she? I knew I should not let myself be drawn in by their innocent little faces when they asked for a ride.”

Damien laughed.

“I was watching and I must say you did agree to Fanny’s game with remarkably little persuasion. You’re very good with them, you know.”

“Only because I can hand them back again after an hour or so,” grumbled Benedict, although he could not stop his laughter from breaking through at the same time. “You don’t ask for small favors, do you?”

Damien only smiled back at him, eyes twinkling as though he already knew that Benedict was going to agree, regardless of his grousing.

It could not really be so hard, could it? It would only be for a week or two and there would be ladies and nursemaids enough to mind the children. Benedict would really only have to manage the logistical side of the journey and keep the party safe.

In addition, he could escape London and all its tiresome conventions and gossiping. Fresh air, country scenery and innocent companions… As well as doing a favor to his friends, the journey would likely do Benedict good too.

“You may tell Seraphine that I’m happy to oversee the journey and look after the children as well as her virtuous relatives,” he finally told his friend with mock solemnity.

“Doubtless I shall spend every moment looking forward to handing the little devils back to you on the Scottish border, but I know and respect the duties of a long friendship.”

“I appreciate the hardships you undertake on my behalf,” returned Damien with equal pretended seriousness before he laughed again. “I know you enjoy playing with the children really, Benedict. You need not pretend. Nor will Lady Esher be such poor company as you expect.”

“In leaving her out of that statement, you rather imply that Lady Louisa might be,” observed Benedict.

“No, Lady Louisa is only shy, sweet, and sheltered for her age, although pretty enough. You might not find much common ground for conversation.”

“No, I expect not,” Benedict accepted. “Anyway, it is best for men like me to keep a certain distance from shy, sweet young ladies.”

“I’m sure Lady Esher would agree. If I foresaw any trouble in that quarter, I would not be asking you to escort them. Seraphine will write to her aunt today and make the necessary arrangements.”

Damien had risen to his feet now, readying himself to go and tell his wife the good news. Benedict took up his newspaper again as his friend departed but did not immediately focus on the headlines. Shy, sweet and pretty enough…

He rather hoped that Lady Louisa would not be good-looking, and certainly that she would be as dull as he had originally envisaged. A comely and engaging young woman companion on this journey might disturb his peace just as much as another Season in London…