To Catch A Duke
Authors: Bethany Sefchick
Tales From Seldon
Park: Book 1
This book is a work of
fiction.
Names, characters, places, and
incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and
are not to be construed as real.
Any resemblance
to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.
Copyright
ã
2013
Bethany
M. Sefchick
All rights reserved
1798
"Will she live?"
Benjamin Sinclair, the newly named Duke of
Radcliffe looked up at the doctor, whose name he hadn't bothered to learn,
though he supposed that he really should.
That was how dukes behaved, after all.
Even at ten years of age, however, Benjamin knew how to speak with
adults, so conversing with the doctor wasn't an issue.
He had been trained to assume the title
since the cradle, and while there was still much he didn't know, he would
learn.
Trial by fire, it would
seem.
He was ready.
The doctor, who didn't look very
clean, Benjamin noted with some disgust, gave an offhanded flick of his wrist
as if the discussion wasn't important.
To him, Benjamin supposed that it wasn't.
But to the newly named duke?
Well, this conversation was everything.
"Probably.
They'll scar
something awful.
That's for
certain.
Doesn't matter, though.
She's ruined now.
No one is going to want a wife that looks like that."
There was a slight sneer on the man's face,
one Benjamin wanted to wipe away with his fist.
Benjamin also felt a hot spurt of
anger well up inside of him, but he shoved it back down.
No.
No anger.
Not now.
Julia needed his help and caring, not his
fury.
"Is that your medical
opinion or the opinion of a mere man?"
Even though they were discussing a four-year old, Benjamin knew that, in
his mind, the doctor was imagining Julia as an adult.
"Both."
It was clear that the man wasn't giving all
that much thought to the little girl lying upstairs in her bed surrounded by
her parents.
"She's young, so the
lines will shift and stretch as she grows, but that doesn't change the fact
that they'll scar.
Deeply.
The cuts aren't shallow, but they're not
deep enough to stitch closed."
He
looked up, as if trying to see through the ceiling.
"I suggested bleeding her, but her parents won't hear of
it."
Then he eyed Benjamin
cautiously, probably thinking that, given his young age, he'd be an easy
mark.
"Perhaps you could talk to
them?"
"No."
Benjamin's voice was ice cold now.
He'd seen for himself the horrors that being
bled could cause, and they were something he never wanted to see again.
A maid in his parents' employ had broken her
leg when she'd fallen down some stairs in the main house.
Another quack doctor, probably from the same
medical school that had graduated the one standing before him now, had bled
her, saying it was necessary to get rid of all of the "bad air" that
had seeped in to the open wound.
She'd
died two days later, screaming in pain, her face twisted in sheer agony.
It was something that Benjamin would never
forget.
A scant four hours ago, he'd
sworn to protect Julia for the rest of her life.
He wasn't going to allow her to be bled, especially not if her
parents forbid it.
Shaking his head, the new duke
looked up at the doctor, knowing that in all probability, his violet eyes had
darkened with anger as they usually did when he was passionate about something,
making him appear as if he was possessed.
Benjamin had seen his eyes in a mirror one day while arguing with his
father, and they appeared so fierce that he'd managed to scare himself.
So he knew well and good how he must appear
to the incompetent doctor standing before him.
For once, he was grateful.
"She will not be bled.
I
will not allow it."
"Forgive me, my lord,"
the doctor had enough sense to use Benjamin's new status when addressing him,
"but as a medical professional..."
Benjamin cut him off before he
could finish, his temper rising unchecked now.
"I have seen better care from the people who treat my father's
horses.
No.
You will not touch her again.
No one will, unless I approve them.
I have already sent to London for another physician, one that my family
trusts."
He was well aware that he
was overstepping his bounds, at least as far as Julia was concerned, but then,
he'd been doing so for years, and, thus far, no one had contradicted him about
his right to do so.
The doctor, sensing he was about to
be dismissed, gave a stiff bow and glared at the young boy standing defiantly
in front of him.
"Very well.
But you are making a grave mistake.
If she dies because she was not bled, her
death will be on your head."
"My decision is
firm."
Benjamin was unrelenting on
the issue.
To further make his point,
he crossed his arms over his chest, even though he knew that at his age, the
effect probably lacked something.
"Now go."
The doctor made another stiff bow
and then stalked out of the front door of Seldon Park.
Benjamin could hear him conversing with the
Rosemont family's groom outside, but not the precise words.
It didn't matter.
The man was gone, and he wouldn't harm Julia any more than he
already had.
Now it was a matter of waiting
for the new physician to arrive.
He'd
sent a rider to London the moment he and the other Rosemonts had returned to
the great mansion, once more no one questioning his authority to make the
directive.
Even though he didn't live
in the house and wasn't a part of the family.
Crossing to the front parlor,
Benjamin looked out the window that faced west where the sun was just beginning
to set, it's arc across the sky bringing it just above the lush line of trees
that ringed the side garden.
His own
home, Spring House, lay in that direction where it bordered Seldon Park's
distant fields.
A part of him knew he
should be there to deal with the events of the day.
What had happened affected his family as well, and, as the duke,
young though he might be, he was head of his family.
It was his responsibility - just like so many other things.
Still, he could not bear to leave.
Julia Rosemont, a four-year old
child, who also happened to be the sister of his best friend, was lying injured
upstairs, her body forever scarred, even though she was too young to comprehend
the consequences of what had transpired.
And he was responsible.
In that moment, Benjamin felt the
weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders, and he knew that time would
not improve things.
Not in this
situation, anyway.
He was the duke, and
even at the tender age of ten, he knew his responsibilities.
Julia Rosemont was now one of them.
"I'll take care of you
forever," he swore softly as he leaned his head against the cool
window.
Just then, the sun's golden
rays splashed over his face, bathing him in a golden glow, making him appear
like the god he most certainly was not.
"I won't let anyone hurt you again."
Even as he said the words, he knew in his heart that he meant
them to his very core.
No one would
ever hurt her again.
If someone
did?
Well, then they would answer to
him.
And they would pay.
1818 - Late May
"I honestly can't believe
she'd dare be seen in public so soon.
She's simply inviting more scandal.
As if she has not caused enough already!"
The woman's shrill voice carried into the corner of the ballroom
where Miss Julia Rosemont was attempting in vain to hide behind either a large
Grecian-style column or a potted plant.
Which ever would conceal her better.
"Those scars.
They're positively hideous.
Anyone else would be ashamed, and rightfully
so," another woman, this one with a lower-pitched voice, but still just as
grating, agreed.
At that, Julia risked
peeking out from her hiding place to see Miss Letitia Worth gazing about the
ballroom as she stood next to her best friend, Miss Henrietta Cartwright.
The two women were clearly looking for their
current prey of choice - in this case Julia - in order to inflict more verbal
damage.
As if the scene they'd caused
two nights ago at the Devonmont's musicale hadn't been enough.
Really, the supposed fainting at the sight
of Julia's scarred visage was quite beyond, and not at all the kind of behavior
proper ladies should be displaying.
At
least in Julia's opinion.
Still, it had brought them much
attention, particularly from many of the young men in attendance, and had
shamed Julia to the point where she and her companion, Miss Avaria Thomas, been
forced to leave.
Avaria had told Julia
in her halting, wheezing voice not to worry, that those two were merely trying
to keep the competition at bay on the marriage mart.
Particularly since neither of them were having very good luck at
snaring a husband, but Julia knew differently.
For Henrietta and Letitia, poking fun
at someone who wasn't as physically blessed as they were, or at least as they
assumed they were, was nothing more than cruel sport.
It was designed for no other purpose than to garner attention,
hopefully from the kind of man who would marvel at their so-called "quick
wit" and find them charming enough that he'd immediately propose
marriage.
Unfortunately, it wasn't
unique to them either.
They were merely
the two who squawked the loudest at the balls and other society events, but
most of the young ladies of Julia's acquaintance did the same, usually at her
expense.
The truth was, Julia
was
an
oddity, and would have been considered so even without her scars.
She'd spent many of her formative years in
the country, even though she had come of age in London, mostly because it was
simply the proper thing to do, rather than because she loved being in
town.
That in and of itself did not
make her odd, but what followed definitely did.
Just before Julia had been about to
make her debut, her father had died unexpectedly, and she'd retreated with her
mother and her brother Nicholas, now the new duke, to the country for an
extended period of mourning.
There she
had remained for nearly six years, hidden away while the rest of the world
moved on without her, including her brother, who, as the duke, had
responsibilities that could not wait for their mother to recover from the
depressed state she'd fallen into upon learning that her beloved Reginald would
never wake up again.
Eventually, it became clear to both
Nicholas and Julia that their mother, bless her, was in no condition, either
physically or mentally, to return to town and resume the social whirl she'd
enjoyed while her husband had been alive.
She probably never would be again.
No, Lady Alice Rosemont, now the dowager Duchess of Candlewood, had as
good as died the very moment that her husband had dropped dead in the front
parlor from a heart attack.
She had
retreated to Seldon Park in rural Sussex, the very place Julia had spent much
of her youth, to mourn her dead husband, and, as she had told Julia, "find
the fortitude to carry on with life."
That had never happened.
Julia probably would have remained
at Seldon Park for the rest of her days if not for two major events.
The first was that Nicholas had decreed
that, even though she was well past prime marriageable age, Julia should have
at least one Season to replace the one that she had been denied after their
father's death.
The second was that
Lady Alice, who had been stoutly opposed to the very idea of a London season to
begin with, died peacefully in her sleep three days after Nicholas had made his
pronouncement.
If one were to strictly follow the
rules of society, Julia should have returned to full mourning immediately, not
prepared herself to go to London.
However, Nicholas had reasoned that since their mother had, in essence,
died the same day their father did - for other than the discussion about
Julia's potential season, she never uttered more than one or two words at a
time - their time of mourning was at an end.
He also reminded Julia that, as no
one had seen or heard from Lady Alice in several years, and as it was unlikely
that anyone would check the family graveyard at Seldon Park, he could claim
that she'd passed on several years ago and had simply not mentioned it out of
respect for his sister who had been forced to deal with the loss of both
parents in rapid succession.
To that end, Nicholas had hired a
distant cousin, Avaria Thomas, who had lived most of her rather sheltered life
in Bath, to be Julia's companion for the season, assuring that while she was
properly chaperoned at all times, he didn't necessarily need to be present
and
that no one knew about Lady Alice's death.
It was, Nicholas had informed Julia, a perfect solution.
Well, it would have been if not for
the scars, something that Julia could not erase, no matter how she might wish
to, and if Henrietta and Letitia had been enjoying more success in snaring
husbands for themselves.
Neither one of
them could truly be considered a diamond of the first water, despite their
ambitious mamas' claims of their unparalleled beauty, refinement, and
charm.
They were also both lacking in
good sense and, on occasion, good manners, preferring gossip above all
else.
Julia knew it was no wonder why
they were having such problems snaring husbands, though she would never say
anything aloud.
However, instead of redoubling
their efforts on the marriage mart, they preferred to torment Julia
mercilessly, even though Julia could never recall offending them.
It was just the scars.
Somehow, she'd managed to bear up remarkably
well thus far into the season, but tonight, coming so close on the heels of the
musicale debacle, she found that she could not tolerate much more.
Her psyche was bruised and battered; she did
not need fresh hurt piled atop the old.
As quietly as possible, Julia
slipped out from behind the column, thankful that her pale pink silk gown
helped her blend in with all of the other unmarried young ladies.
If she was lucky, she could escape to the
retiring room, find Avaria, and be on her way back to the townhouse in Mayfair
within minutes.
Unfortunately, luck was
not on her side, as usual.
"Is that you, Miss
Rosemont?"
The screech of
Henrietta's voice cut loudly through the ballroom, and Julia winced inwardly,
knowing that soon, every eye in the room would be turned in her direction.
"I had thought you would stay home
tonight after the fright you gave Letitia the other evening.
In fact, I was
certain
it would
compel you to stay home."
Her words hung in the now largely
quiet ballroom, making Julia blush furiously.
She tended to blush all over, something she could not control.
Unfortunately, her scarred face, not to
mention what was visible of her neck and chest, blanched white rather than red
or pink, making her skin look like a mottled patchwork of fabric - red, pink,
and cream all mixed with deathly white.
Certainly not at all attractive.
"I had an obligation to see to
this evening," Julia demurred as she lowered her eyes, praying that Avaria
was nearby, and wondering, again, where the other woman had gotten off to
now.
It seemed that every moment Julia
turned her back, the other woman snuck off to sleep some place, leaving her
charge very much alone to fend off the wolves herself.
"However, I can assure you that I was
just leaving."
"An obligation?"
Somehow, Letitia's voice carried farther
than her friend's had, though Julia had no idea how that was even
possible.
"After what you did to
me, frightening me so!
Why, I should
demand that you leave this instant!
It's not proper..."
"It's not proper for young
ladies to screech like banshees, either," a deep, rumbling voice tinged
with anger interrupted Letitia's tirade, "yet
you
seem to be
carrying on just so, and no one is insulting you."
Julia saw Letitia's mouth snap
shut, and she looked up to see a man's gloved hand extended towards her.
"My apologies for being so late, Lady
Julia.
The delay was unfortunate, but
unavoidable.
However, I am here now and
shall claim the dance I requested."
"But you can't..."
This time it was Lady Henrietta shrieking,
and Julia knew precisely why.
The rage
of jealousy was written all over the other woman's face.
"I can do whatever I like, I
assure you," he replied in a haughty tone, one filled with a curious mix
of derision and distain, as if Henrietta were just barely above his
notice.
"And that includes dancing
with the loveliest lady in the room this evening."
If Julia's fate hadn't been sealed before,
those uttered by the man would surely bring Henrietta to the brink of
rage.
Not because of the words, but
because of who uttered them.
Julia's would-be rescuer was none
other than Benjamin Sinclair, the Duke of Radcliffe, and the most sought-after
bachelor of the
ton
.
Not to
mention one of the wealthiest.
Or most
attractive, at least in Julia's opinion.
Every unattached lady, and even some of the married ones, panted after
Radcliffe as if he was a juicy steak they were all starving mongrels.
Two weeks earlier, she'd heard Henrietta
express her belief that it was only a matter of time before the duke became
enamored of her considerable charms, and whisked her off to Spring House, his
ancestral home, where he would marry her by special license, unable to wait for
the banns to be called.
Now, not only was the duke paying
attention to Julia, but he had publicly chastised the very woman who had
convinced herself that she was to be the future Duchess of Radcliffe.
This would not end well for Julia and she
knew it.
Perhaps not tonight, but later
on, at another event.
Even though there
were only a few scant weeks left in the season, that was still plenty of time
for her life to become a living hell.
Right now, Julia's first instinct
was to run, but she knew better.
If she
fled, that would only cause a greater scene.
Instead, she placed her hand in the duke's and looked up into gloriously
beautiful eyes that could only be described as violet-hued and smiled, knowing
that her scars would not terrify him as they did other men.
"Thank you, my lord," she
said with a low curtsey, praying that her voice did not shake with the fear she
felt.
"I had no doubt that you
would arrive when you could."
Then
she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor and away from the two women who
would, like as not, wish to damn her to perdition.
Benjamin Sinclair was
seething.
How
dare
those women
treat Julia with such distain!
Those
scars, her exile, none of those were her fault.
He really did mean to speak with his old friend Nicholas after
this miserable event and ask him about Julia's chaperone, who, Benjamin had
been quick to notice, had not been in sight much of the evening, no matter how
hard Julia had searched for her.
Benjamin been friends with the
Rosemont family since he and Nicholas had both been in leading strings, and,
while he hadn't seen Julia in many years, he had kept current on her through
her brother.
Not in a nosy or
inappropriate way, of course, but merely out of friendship.
Not to mention his old vow.
She was his friend, one of the few true
friends he had, and he was not about to allow any harm to befall her.
No one would hurt he as long as he had a say
in the matter.
And since he was a duke,
he had a great deal of say.
Once upon a time, the three of them
had roamed the fields of Seldon Park together, the two older boys and one
tag-along little girl with copper-hued hair in messy braids and dirt on her
face, her deep brown eyes bright with wit and intelligence.
Even now, he couldn't say why he'd taken a
real liking to the girl, especially since she was six years younger than he,
other than that her disfigurement set her apart from the other girls of his
acquaintance.