His Three-Day Duchess. Laurie Benson. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Laurie Benson
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Историческая литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474088701
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having to elaborate more about the persistent Duchess of Skeffington. He knew she wanted this house and he knew it had to be because of the income it would bring her. He had lived his life moving from relative to relative when he was a boy until his father arranged for him to join the navy when Simon was fifteen. Houses were just places to store your things and rest your head. He had never lived in one long enough to grow attached to any of them. The Duchess didn’t appear to be the sentimental type—however, it was apparent she enjoyed her wealth. It had to be the income that drew her to Stonehaven. Perhaps she assumed, if she stayed here long enough, he would just give her the house.

      This estate was within a few hours’ drive to the port town of Portsmouth. Now he could ship the treasures he uncovered directly to this house. It saved in travel time and money, and this remote location kept his business hidden from potential thieves. He would never give up Stonehaven. Using this house was beneficial to his business.

      ‘Before we were interrupted, you expressed interest in seeing the statue I uncovered which will certainly pay Lord Bollingbrooke back for his investment in the excavation,’ Simon said to Adam. ‘Wait here. I’ll go and fetch it.’

      ‘That’s what you said the last time you left this room.’

      ‘If I am longer than ten minutes, you can always ring for tea to enjoy by this fire.’ He gave his friend a teasing look.

      ‘Tea by the fire isn’t quite the same without a tempting woman at your side.’

      But it would be much more relaxing without the Duchess of Skeffington there to get Simon’s pulse racing with the agitation she had a habit of causing him. Luckily, she would be gone from this house soon and his life would return to the quiet and boring state it had been in here in England before he noticed her carriage pull up in his drive.

      Or so he thought.

       Chapter Three

      Lizzy sat beside her aunt, staring into the blue Wedgwood teacup that was part of the set she had purchased shortly after her marriage, and was holding back her tears. He had changed her favourite room—the room she had spent many hours in entertaining family and friends. It was a room that she had taken great pains to decorate to her exact taste. She recalled trying four different paint colours before she settled on the soft white paint that complemented the gold crown mouldings that had once outlined the room. Those four walls held so many good memories of so many wonderful visits.

      Now that the room didn’t even look the same, all of that was gone with the careless direction of Mr Simon Alexander. It was hard for her to think of him in terms of the Duke of Skeffington since physically he was so very different from her late husband, although he, too, could be infuriating, but in a completely different way.

      ‘Try drinking your tea before it gets cold,’ Aunt Clara suggested gently, patting her hand. ‘You will not find the answer to your troubles staring into that cup. A good cup of tea can help with many things, but I believe it works only when you drink it.’

      Lizzy placed the cup and saucer on the table beside her. ‘It has lost its appeal seeing it in these cups.’

      ‘They are lovely cups. I recall going with you to buy them in London. I’ve always been partial to Wedgwood.’

      ‘They are his cups now.’ She didn’t even try to hide the despondent tone of her voice.

      Not being able to look at the tea set any longer, Lizzy shifted her gaze to scan the new crown moulding that was painted a pale cream colour that matched the marble fireplace. What else had he decided to change? She got up and walked to the large windows that overlooked the back gardens. In the summer, they were breathtaking with a combination of manicured topiaries, water fountains and beds of roses. Now they were frozen in snow.

      ‘The house feels different,’ she said, staring bleakly out at the garden where she had spent many days enjoying peace and solitude in the sunshine.

      Aunt Clara came up beside her and took her hand. ‘I know it is painful for you to adjust to all that has changed.’

      ‘My pain is all because of Mr Alexander. He changed this house. If he’d had the decency to remain in Sicily, he would have had no time to alter Stonehaven and this would still feel like home.’ It was his entire fault.

      ‘I’m not just referring to the changes in this house, Lizzy. In the past year you have become a widow. For months you had no notion of where you would be living. Your financial circumstances, while respectable, are not as grand as they once were. Charlotte is married to the man you wanted to marry and now Juliet is also married and in love. That is a lot of change in such a short time.’

      ‘What do my sisters’ marriages have to do with any of this?’

      ‘When Andrew married Charlotte it was very difficult for you. You couldn’t even go to their wedding and you refused to discuss your feelings with me or Juliet. You kept pushing us away when we would mention it. I know you now are speaking with Charlotte, but it has been six months since their wedding. I think it’s time we talked about it.’

      ‘They are married. I have come to accept that. What is there to say?’

      ‘Why did you have your heart set on Andrew? When Skeffington died, you said he was the only man who you could love and would make you happy. Why?’

      ‘It doesn’t matter why. He loves Charlotte and she loves him.’

      It was obvious from her aunt’s expression that that explanation was not sufficient and she wasn’t going to let the matter rest until Lizzy bared more of her pain. She had come to accept her fate—she could talk about it a bit more now.

      ‘I understand that some people are meant to find love in this world and there are those of us who are not. Not everyone marries a man and finds a lifetime of happiness with him. Charlotte is fortunate she found love twice. I suppose when Lord Andrew married her, it reminded me that my future does not include a man who will love me. I thought he had cared for me, but I was wrong. He never had any feelings for me. I created that illusion in my head. I suppose believing in that for the past twelve years helped me through living in a loveless marriage. I could pretend there was a man out there in the world who was wishing I was his. But none of it was real. I know that now. I don’t blame Charlotte for what happened. He was never really mine. I want her to be happy and she is with him. But, in truth, I can’t help but wonder why her fate was to find two men to love her and my fate doesn’t include even one.’

      ‘Don’t say that. You are still young. You have many years ahead of you to meet a man who will love you.’

      ‘If there is one thing I’ve learned in life, it is that there is something about me that does not endear me to men. I don’t have striking green eyes like Charlotte, or her sweet disposition, and I’m not lively and spirited like Juliet. I am just me. There is nothing remarkable about me. Even before Skeffington bargained with Father for my hand, suitors were not sending me flowers or filling up my dance card. And as a widow, I know that I may not be able to have children. Heavens, how Skeffington would remind me of that fact while he was alive and even reduced my fortune and income because of it. I was not a desirable debutante and I will never be a desirable widow.’

      ‘Lizzy, you have a lot to offer a man.’

      ‘I will not marry some man just because he is in need of my money. If I cannot marry for love, then I will not marry at all. And we both know I am not the type of woman a man falls in love with. I’m just not.’

      Aunt Clara placed her arm around Lizzy’s shoulders and the soft familiar scent of her rose perfume drifted on the air. ‘I was not referring to your money, Elizabeth.’

      ‘Everything is different now. The place that I considered home is no longer mine, nor its contents. That cup isn’t mine even though I was the one to pick it out for this house.’

      ‘Life isn’t always fair.’