Christmas with the Charming Earl Read online

  "You are Anthony Langley, are you not?” she asked.

  “I am,” Anthony said. “And you are?”

  “I am just a maidservant,” the woman said. “That’s all . . . Just a maidservant.”

  ***

  When Anthony entered the drawing room, Isabella clapped her hands together giddily. “Anthony! You're back!” she exclaimed.

  He looked around the room quickly. His father was nowhere in view. Isabella led him to two armchairs, offered him one by a wave of the hand, and then plopped down in one herself.

  There came a knock at the door as they were taking their seats. The change that came over Isabella’s face was startling. Her lips, hitherto twisted into a smile, twisted downward into a grimace. Her eyes narrowed, and her tongue flickered for a moment. She rubbed her hands together.

  “Have I missed something, Isabella?” Anthony said, nodding at the door. “You seem positively gleeful at that knock. Are you expecting good news?”

  “Oh, no, nothing like that!” She threw her head back at this, as though it was the funniest joke she had ever heard, and giggled manically. “Nothing like that!” she repeated, with another giggle.

  “Will you not admit whomever it is?” Anthony asked.

  “It pleases me to make her wait,” she said casually. “Oh, how she hates to wait!”

  “Pray, admit whomever it is,” Anthony said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “I see no reason to keep them lingering.”

  “Oh, very well!” Isabella snapped, like a child whose favorite toy has been taken away from them for the moment. She raised her voice: “Come in, Rebecca!”

  Reegina entered the room. Anthony looked into her eyes, and for a moment her eyes flickered to him. But then they turned to Isabella.

  “Oh, so you’re here,” Isabella said, as though she had not heard the knocking.

  “Yes, my lady,” Rebecca said quietly, her eyes studying something upon the floor. “I am here because you asked me to—”

  “Quiet!” Isabella screamed, waving her hands aimlessly, madly.

  Isabella turned to Anthony, and smiled widely.

  “Do you see what I have?” she grinned. “This wench here used to think herself above me. She would laugh melodramatically at what I said at parties, with the intention of mocking me. She would smile at me, but I saw behind the smile. Yes, I saw behind the smile!” She let out that awful giggle.

  "Isabella,” Anthony said, directing his gaze at his sister. “Have you brought Rebecca in here for a reason?”

  Isabella sighed. It was clear that Anthony was ruining it. He was supposed to – in her estimation – laugh at the lady with her. Ha, ha! he was supposed to say. Look at the lady, who has no friends, no family, no hope. How funny!

  Isabella waved her hand, and nodded at the door. “You can go,” she said, and turned back to Anthony.

  Rebecca’s gaze lingered on Anthony for a moment before she left the room. Anthony realized, that he was, in fact, interested in the maidservant.

  Chapter Three

  ❆❆❆

  Two months later

  Rebecca prepared the tea tray in the kitchen. When she heard the bell ring, she took afternoon tea to the parlor to serve her master, Robert Langley and his guest, Edmund, Earl of Eldon.

  Setting the tray on the table, she poured their tea and placed the pot on the table mat.

  “Will there be anything else, Your Grace?” she asked politely.

  The Duke laughed heartily. “Not right now, Rebecca. I’ll ring for you if there is.”

  Rebecca nodded to both gentlemen and noticed how Duke Langley leered at her. She knew exactly what he was thinking, and hurried out of the room.

  “Pretty little thing, isn’t she?” Edmund said in a lecherous tone of voice.

  “Yes. And not without certain experience,” the Duke confided. “She begot a daughter out of wedlock.”

  Both men laughed mockingly.

  Rebecca tarried in an alcove near the door. She hated the way the men spoke about her, insinuating that she was a woman of ill repute who would be an easy target for sexual favors.

  “So where is this child?” The Earl took a sandwich from the tray and sipped his tea.

  “She’s in a local orphanage. I couldn’t have her here.” “How old is she?”

  “She’s three years old, I think.”

  “Not the child, I mean the young woman who just served us.”

  “Oh, Rebecca – she’s twenty.”

  The Duke chuckled and looked at his friend with a mirthful smile.

  “Edmund, I need a replacement wife, as you know. What I wouldn’t give to be on top of that gorgeous thing every night. I surmise she would be very compliant in the bedroom. In any case, it is a wife’s duty to please her husband.”

  They both laughed again and continued to discuss Rebecca as if she were a common little whore.

  Rebecca knew she should be back in the kitchen, but she had already made some of the dinner preparations. So she huddled in the shadows and listened intently to the conversation emanating from the parlor.

  “I guess you could do worse than marry a girl like her, even though she is quite feisty,” the Earl said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. But I don’t think she would marry you without some sort of promise about the child.”

  “I guess I can make a bargain like that in exchange for some vicarious activity – a compromise can be worked out,” the Duke said. "You have to agree, she’s quite a beauty despite her fall from grace. I can’t wait to ravage her. I can think of many things she can do to please me in the carnal sense. Can’t you?”

  Their raucous laughter taunted Rebecca’s sensibilities and she fled to the kitchen. The idea of being beholden to the Duke was distasteful. But she had heard them discuss the prospect of Emma being with her after the marriage.

  Her dearest wish was to care for her daughter herself. The vicious rape she’d endured at age sixteen had given her a sample of what men want from a woman. Surely the Duke would not be as rough and cruel as that man had been.

  She would do anything to have her daughter by her side – even undress and part her legs while he took pleasure from her body. She tried to imagine being in bed with him and bile rose in her throat.

  Then common sense invaded her thoughts and she knew she would have to comply with the Duke’s wishes to ensure her daughter Emma could be with her. That was the price she would have to pay. To Rebecca, any sacrifice, no matter how horrible to her personally, would be worth putting up with so she could be a proper mother to her child.

  Upon their marriage, she would become Duchess. Her nobility would be restored and she could put the past behind her and be a woman of dignity. People would respect her.

  She recalled the vile acts her rapist had insisted she perform before he took her virginity. Surely the Duke would opt for a more gentle approach that befitted the marital bed?

  ***

  When the bell rang again, Rebecca dutifully went to collect the tea things.

  “Rebecca, when you’ve deposited the tray in the kitchen, would you please return. There’s something of great importance I’d like to discuss with you,” the Duke said.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” she said. She hurried back to the kitchen and left the tray beside the sink. Trepidation overwhelmed her as she walked back to the parlor.

  “Come in, Rebecca. Take a seat.”

  “Have I done something wrong, Your Grace?", she asked. “No, my dear, I have a proposition for you.”

  Rebecca looked at the Duke, trying to hide the horror she felt for what she knew was coming.

  “Rebecca, I need a dutiful wife and I think you are perfect for my requirements. You are a delightful young woman. I am widowed. I need a gentile lady to become the next Duchess. In the several years I have been without a wife, I have not met a girl as suitable as you.”

  Rebecca remained silent. It was the type of offer that came with conditions. She would be obliged to entertain the Duk
e in bed whenever he wanted to pleasure himself with her. Didn’t that mean he should offer her an incentive to balance the bargain? She turned to the Duke.

  “Your Grace, your offer is so kind. But there’s one thing I must ask of you before I agree. I have a daughter out of wedlock. Emma is the product of a rape that was exacted upon me some years ago. I would need her to be with me if I agree to marry you.”

  The Duke stood and bowed to her. “I promise if we marry, you can bring your daughter to live with us at my estate.”

  It seemed too good to be true.

  "When married, you will be Duchess. Your nobility will be restored,” the Duke continued.

  Rebecca felt resigned to her fate. It was the only way she could ever get her precious daughter back in her life. And being a Duchess was more than she could ever anticipate with any other man.

  “I accept your offer, Your Grace,” she said.

  Chapter Four

  ❆❆❆

  Later that day, Rebecca awoke and for a few moments felt disoriented. The drapes were drawn and the bedchamber was dark and eerie. Then she remembered. She was at the Duke Langley’s estate and the dining hour was drawing closer.

  A knock on the door startled her. It would be the maids wanting to help her prepare for the evening.

  “Enter,” she called in a shaky voice, leaving her bed to greet the maids.

  Mary and Rose came in carrying several gowns over each arm. They lay them out on the settee. The two maids pulled back the heavy drapes to offer more light in the room.

  “Miss Rebecca, we’ve selected these for you to choose from for tonight’s dinner,” Rose said with cheery informality.

  “I like the green one,” Mary said, holding up a delicate satin gown with a decidedly low neckline and ornate white lace trim. “The Duke will want you to look exquisite for such a formal occasion.”

  “Yes,” exclaimed Rose. You are far more beautiful than Lady Isabella who used to wear this gown. The color didn’t suit her at all. In fact, she will be jealous of you whatever you wear. You have a certain delicate style about you that she will never have.”

  “Thank you Rose for the lovely compliment. I will wear the green gown because you and Mary have been kind enough to select it for me. And I’ll need some help with my hair. I hardly know where to begin to dress for such a grand occasion.”

  “You just leave everything to us, Miss Rebecca,” Mary directed. “We will transform you into a Duchess. The Duke will be impressed and Lady Isabella will gawk at you with envy.” Rebecca sat on a chair facing a mirror while Rose brushed her lustrous, long hair and pinned it up in an elegant style.

  “There, Miss Rebecca,” she said proudly. “You look enchanting. The Duke won’t be able to take his eyes off you.” “Thank you Rose, Mary. I have to agree I look like a different girl.”

  “We will leave you now, but don’t be late for dinner. Go down to the front parlor in about half an hour’s time. The Duke will be there to escort you to the grand dining room.

  "Thank you both so much for preparing me for such an important evening,” Rebecca said.

  “It was our pleasure, Miss Rebecca. You go and have a really good time.”

  The maids took their leave and Rebecca stared again at her image in the mirror. She had never looked so beautiful in her entire life. Swishing back and forth, she looked like a true Duchess.

  When the maids left her room, Rebecca went to the parlor. She had expected to meet with the Duke alone, but she found Anthony in the room, arguing with his father.

  Rebecca felt like she was intruding on something that was no concern of hers. She could feel her cheeks starting to burn over her. The two men before her fell into angered silence. “Would you prefer for me to come back later?” she offered so that they might have some privacy to settle their dispute. “I’m very sorry, my dear Rebecca,” Anthony leered. “But, that will be no use at all. The battle you can see ensuing has no real end. My father seeks issue in every choice I make. Do you suppose that time might change that?”

  “I sought only to keep matters private between you and your father,” Rebecca told him firmly.

  His leering gaze had moved from her cleavage and had started to ride down the curves of her corset.

  “Rebecca, you are indeed most thoughtful,” the Duke cut in. Rebecca looked over at him and wondered how a man so vulgar could spawn a son of such looks. Had he once looked as good as his son?

  “You do not need to worry about what you witness in this room. You are soon to be Anthony’s stepmother. You will have as much say, as I, over his choices.”

  Anthony laughed heartily.

  “Do you really believe that I shall listen to her?” he gave his father an outraged, but humored look. “She is as young as I, what place does she have to give advice? What does she know of life that I don’t?”

  “You will hold your tongue boy,” the Duke snapped at his son. “When I marry Rebecca, she will be your parent and you will accept that.”

  “Oh, father,” Anthony stood up from the couch he’d been draping himself over. “You should have realized by now that I don’t care what anybody thinks.”

  He walked over to the door disturbing the air around Rebecca. “I’m sure I’ll see you at dinner,” he bowed slightly and then left the room.

  Rebecca looked over to the Duke. His cheeks were still red with anger.

  “Will your son reside with us?” Rebecca asked.

  “I am afraid so,” the Duke looked warily over at her. “It is best that I keep him under my watchful eye.”

  Rebecca nodded, but she did not speak.

  “Does this pose an issue with our agreement?” the Duke asked. “I would have thought that you, of all people, would understand the sacrifices that must be made for the sake of a child.”

  “Yes,” Rebecca gave a slight nod. “Of course I understand the sacrifice. I do not take any issue with your son residing with us.”

  “That is good news,” the Duke seemed relieved. "I’m glad that you are not regretting your choices.”

  “I have no room in my life for regret,” she told him sharply. “The choices we make are those that which we should always stand by. The outcome is irrelevant.”

  “That seems like a wise way to live,” the Duke said. “Has the maid informed you of when we are sitting to dine?” he asked after a quiet moment.

  “She has.”

  “Good,” the Duke nodded. He stood up from his desk. “I am sure that once we are joined in union and you bring Emma here, that she will also be very happy."

  Rebecca tried not to flinch over the mention of Emma’s name. It was a name that she’d buried deep within her head. It was a name too painful to hear and even more so to speak. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I am sure that she will like it here.”

  ***

  No matter how enjoyable dinner would be, Rebecca felt anxiety about what would transpire afterwards when the Duke would come to her boudoir to claim his rights according to their bargain.

  Anthony would be at the dinner, and she hoped he would behave in a manner befitting the son of a Duke. Robert Langley rushed to her side and took her hand, drawing her into the room.

  Several people were chatting and Rebecca felt slightly intimidated that she might be required to enter into conversations with strangers. The Duke called for silence and there was a hush. Everyone present turned to view the newcomer in their midst.

  “I would like you all to meet my future wife, Rebecca Ingram,” the Duke said. “She is to be here at the estate while we make wedding arrangements.”

  Astonished mumbles from some guests indicated to Rebecca that her presence as the Duke’s fiancée was a huge surprise to those present. Isabella was looking at her with anger in her eyes.

  Rebecca greeted her cheerfully. “Good evening, Isabella. You do look lovely. It is so nice to be attending my first official dinner at Bingham Hall.”

  Isabella nodded to Rebecca, but didn’t speak. Rebecca was sure
she would recognize the green gown that once was hers. As she moved to greet the next guest in the line, she was aware of Isabella’s sneer directed at her.

  When the dinner gong rang, the Duke called his son over. “Anthony, would you please escort my fiancée in to dinner. I feel it is my obligation to escort Isabella as she alone on this occasion."

  Anthony bowed to Rebecca and put his left arm on his hip. Rebecca linked her right arm through the opening and prepared to follow the Duke and Isabella through to the grand dining room.

  Being in such close proximity to Anthony startled Rebecca. She hoped nobody noticed she was blushing with embarrassment. It was disappointing when Anthony pulled out a chair for her to sit and took his place next to her. He didn’t say a word.

  The Duke sat at the head of the table to Rebecca’s left. His admiring glances towards her were unsettling. He was obviously impressed with her presentation and poise, but it was his fleeting, lecherous looks that meant one thing. He would want dinner to be over quickly, so he could come to her bedchamber.

  Rebecca was aware that she was showing far more of her bosom than she had ever displayed before. The green dress was evocatively pretty, drawing more than one admiring look from the male guests around the table. She felt exposed and vulnerable.

  Isabella sat opposite Rebecca on her father’s right with a sour look on her face.

  The meal consisted of several courses – soup, entrée, main course and dessert. The servants brought trays of food to the table and each guest took a serving.

  As the meal was being eaten, Rebecca tried to strike up a conversation with Anthony.

  “I simply don’t know how I could have become ready for this grand dinner without the assistance of my maids, Rose and Mary.”

  Anthony glared at her. “They are very useful to have around the place,” he said sarcastically. “Life would be very dull without such entertaining staff.”

  His smirk indicated that he was sure of himself and didn’t care what anybody thought of him. He didn’t need to act with charm and grace.