Romance: Detective Romance: A Vicious Affair (Victorian Regency Intrigue 19th England Romance) (Historical Mystery Detective Romance) (36 page)

*****

Seven years had passed since Ruth and Luke’s first blossoming of love. Only one year had passed since their marriage. And yet it seemed to Ruth as though her whole life had been spent with His Grace. They toured the United Kingdom for two months after their wedding. His Grace was tired of other counties, he said, and wouldn’t leave the Kingdom again if he had the choice. They consummated their marriage in Wells. It was hot and steamy and everything Ruth had secretly wished for.

Now, back at Brook Castle, Ruth laid her hand upon her belly and looked over the grounds. It was May again, and the leaves were shunting their dead blackness and flowering in bright greens and careful yellows. Mother and Father were due to come for an extended visit, to wait for the baby to arrive, which should be any day now. The baby had been particular active of late, and Ruth was more convinced each day that the child was a boy. She hoped it was a boy. She would raise him to be kind and just and everything his father was; and everything that poor fat man Charles stone wasn’t.

Ruth was sitting by the window when her husband joined her. He had grown a moustache that made him look dashing. He leaned over her and lay a kiss upon her forehead. She reached up and touched his face and kissed him upon the lips. The baby kicked and he placed his hands upon her belly.

“This surpasses it all,” he said. “This far surpasses it all.”

“Surpasses what?”

“The dreams in France,” he said. “I dreamt of many things, of love and happiness, but never did I dream of something this perfect.” He scratched his scar absentmindedly. “I do not think I have told you how I got this, have I?”

“I thought it impolite to ask,” she said.

“Impolite,” Luke said, smiling. “I do not think you need to worry about that, my beautiful wife.”

“Tell me, then!” Ruth said daringly.

“I shall,” Luke said; his hands still upon her belly. The baby stopped kicking, soothed by his father’s presence, and Luke removed his hands and leaned back in his chair. “It was not during a battle, but after. I had fought in so many battles I had stopped counting long ago. This was five years into it. There had been so much pain, suffering, blood. So much of it. But this wasn’t like that. This wasn’t during the battle at all.

“The ground was slick – it was winter – and the mud was like a swamp. Bodies lay everywhere, and I leaned up after collapsing from exhaustion, my clothes stiff with mud and cold, and looked around. I saw it, then, the source of a monstrous sound. A boy – for that is what he was – was swinging a bayonet wildly at nothing in particular. He was screaming, and looking around with wild, bloodshot eyes.
Where are they?
he screamed. Am I scaring you, my love?”

“No. Continue, please.”

“Very well. I approached the boy, ignoring the tiredness in my bones, and tried to reason with him. I fear I was not very successful. In his madness he cut me. But after he’d cut me, he stopped and stared at me, and his eyes opened wider and he
saw
me.
I am sorry,
he breathed.
Oh Lord, forgive me.
Blood was pouring from me, but that was nothing knew – you have seen my scarred body – and so I nodded.
I forgive you, son,
I said – for we were with titles and so forth – and together we bandaged up my wound.”

There was a sound from without. The footman was leading Mother and Father.

Luke went on hurriedly, eager to finish his story.

“That is when I learnt that to experience something good – like this boy’s recovery – sometimes it is necessary to experience something dreadful. The war was that for me, and you were the light that seared into its darkest depths. I know, I am being horribly earnest, but it is the truth. I just feel I had to say that to you, now, for some reason. Isn’t that odd?”

“It is lovely,” Ruth said, and then Mother and Father entered.

Luke’s countenance changed from his private, true self to his entertaining social self. He rose to his feet and bowed. “My lord, my lady,” he said, “it is an honor to welcome you to my home.”

“It is an honor to be here, Your Grace,” Father said. “You are enjoying being back at the Castle, I hope.”

“Very much so,” Luke said. “It makes it easier for Ruth, who has gotten so big now. Come, you must see. I fear she loathes standing of late.”

“Luke!” Ruth cried playfully, as she struggled to her feet. “Mother, Father, it is nice to see you again after so many months.”

There was a moment of awkwardness, when they all remembered the illicit way in which this situation had come to be, but then that wall broke down and the four of them were Mother, Father, Luke, and Ruth.

Mother almost skipped over to Ruth. “May I?” she said, gesturing at her belly.

“Of course, Mother.”

Over Mother’s shoulder, Ruth saw Luke pat Father on the back. “I have a gift for you, my lord,” he said.

“For me?” Father looked like a child on his birthday.

The gift was a beautifully carved pipe Luke had had specially made, for even Duke’s must spoil their wife’s parents sometimes.

“
Dick!”
Bobbie Josephine spit out the word like it left a bad taste in her mouth. Ever since she had met that horrible boy, she had a heap of trouble. Now she had gone from the pan to the fire. “What have you done? Did you not stop to think that I might not want my birthday announced for the whole kingdom to know?”

William Harrison Donaldson, known as Dick to his friends and family, smiled his easy, wide smile. “Did you forget your mother’s ball this evening? Did you think she would let the night go without a toast to her birthday girl?” Bobbie’s frowned deepened. The mention of her mother was reminder of the root of the problem, but the ball was trouble of enormous proportions. She had never asked to be a princess, and although she loved her family, perhaps if given a choice she would have picked a role with less political nonsense. The ball tonight was a prime example. She did not have a choice in the matter; she would have to attend. Not only attend, but socialize with the Lesbionia’s elite- a group of know it all spoiled brats.

Even while they were kids, there was just something different about Bobbie from the other girls in her social circles. Kids pick at things they don’t understand, and Bobbie’s kind nature was weird and foreign to them. They had been taught to judge others and look down on those who didn’t have their breeding. The princess was brought up by a kind and loving father. He had passed on, but in the days when he had ruled, there was an easy peace to the land and their lives. Once a great Navel Admiral, King Pete hadn’t been afraid of hard work. He was wise and gentle. The princess came along late in his life and surprised him. But how he loved her! She was by his side at all times, and as a result, was quite the tomboy. She loved playing in the shipyard, where her father frequently had business, running and playing with the sons of the workers.

That is where she had met young Dick, a son of a Captain of one the ships, and good friend to her father. The pair had grown up together, close as best friends could be. He was blamed for most of the trouble they got into, but truth be known; most of it was her idea. Then puberty had hit and both had looked at each other differently. Falling in love had not been hard, but the social consequences where staggering. They simply could not be together. The princess could no more marry her love than marry a goat. Now she would be expected to go to the stupid ball and dance with stupid suitors, all who grew up with silver spoons and haughty attitudes. Each year they got worse. And now, with her birthday here and her age advancing, she would be expected to wed soon.

The idea of marrying any of those pushy men made Bobbie’s stomach sour. Just spending this evening with them was misery enough. Biting her tongue at their mean remarks, missing her beloved William ... who at the moment was rubbing her neck and shoulders. It felt wonderful, and even though she was mad at him, she felt her body relax against his hands. Bobbie rolled her shoulder so Dick would have better access. “My mother hates my birthday as much as I do. It is a reminder that she is another year older as well,” Bobbie said grumpily.

She felt his hand slid along her body and a fire lit deep in the core of her. He leaned in close to her ear, inhaling her scent, a blend of body soaps and lotions along with a mix of womanly musk and something so unique it was only found on her. It was a realness and a willingness to get dirty and laugh and play and it was crazy how that was a scent, but he could smell it on her and it drove him to his knees. The electricity between the two was undeniable.

He murmured in to her ear “The woman I love is turning twenty three today. If she were my wife, I would take her to bed and not get out all day. She would not leave till she knew how much I love her. She is not, so I must show her how much I love her in other ways. So I painted your beauty on a church in town. The angels must be so glad to have something to brighten their day! God himself must fawn over your beauty; both he and I know it isn’t skin deep with you. If I were a poet, I would have written a thousand sonnets. If I was a musician, one hundred songs. Never has God allowed such a perfect muse walk the earth, so I must celebrate doing what I do best.”

Dick’s lips had brushed across her neck as he confessed his love. The warmth of his breath and yearning in his words made Bobbie’s anger wane. “Dick, you can’t paint anything on a church! It isn’t right. The church is for God and God only.” The pressure from his hands got harder. He made circles on her shoulders, savoring the silky feeling of her skin. ”God made you princess and me a poor artist. I think he has punished me already. And after this ball, and you pick a prince to live your life with, I can worship at the church my one true love forever and always.” Her heart broke at the pain in his voice, and the truth in his words. All she wanted was to spend the rest of her life with the one person she loved. She felt warm little kisses on her neck. Dick nibbled and kissed on her neck and earlobe as if he was paying some sort of reverence. Each kiss was an unanswered prayer, each carrying devotion and adulation. Despite the fact that she could never truly be his, he would love her, adore her, and worship her till the day he died. His loyalty was as strong and unwavering has his love. He didn’t feel cheated in this, for the pleasure of her company and knowing her love was more than any man could ever hope for. Their time together was worth any price. Even on the eve of his misery, he had no regrets.

Bobbie sighed. Dick’s hands were warm and gentle. His fingers teased Bobbie’s skin. Lightly he traced the lines of her shoulders and neck. She admired the talents that were in those big hands. Dick was a passionate artist. His work was known far and wide as the most beautiful and feeling provoking images ever put on canvas. He was a sensitive soul, and his feeling leaked out all over his work. The man could no more bridle his feelings as he could stop his love for Bobbie. She sighed again, more worried than relaxed now. The idea of a life without him, without love … it was unbearable. And yet, she knew that tonight she would be asked to choose from a long list of suitors. Marriage was not for love, it was a tool to gain power or wealth. Or both, if she chose correctly. And Mother would see to that. Mother had big plans for Bobbie’s future. She was a good woman, but like most woman, she was materialistic. The idea of more of everything was favorable to her, and she wasn’t against using Bobbie to get it.

Dick sensed the change in Bobbie’s demeanor. “My love, do not worry about tonight. Enjoy this moment with me. I still have not been able to properly wish you a happy birthday.” He drew her up into his lap. “May I kiss you?”

Dick’s big eyes looked straight into Bobbie’s. His hands had settled on the lace of her dress. “How long does it take you to get dressed? All of these petticoats and slips and buckles, how do you have time for anything else?” He teased Bobbie, but he just wanted her mind off of finding a new love. But looking at all the clasps on her dress made him think of getting her out of it. He refused to deflower her, knowing that it could bring her shame. But thoughts of her silky skin were never far from his mind. He had kissed her, touched exposed skin, but he could go no farther. A night with Bobbie was all he wanted for the cold life he would lead without her, but to take her innocence would be unforgivable. Bobbie ignored his question, and pouted on his lap.

“Will you be at the ball tonight, Dick? Perhaps we could meet somewhere secret, and then the night would not be a total waste,” Bobbie said wistfully.

“Yes, there is a Duke that will be there tonight that has requested that I do a portrait of his daughter. I am to meet them both tonight. Mayhap I could meet you in the garden and dance once with you?”

“Of course!” Bobbie hugged him. “I would meet on the moon if you requested it,” she said as she slid in closer to him. “Maybe this birthday shall still yield some good.”

“And with that promise, I must bid you ado. I need to prepare myself for my meeting tonight and find the perfect gift for my beautiful Angel.” Dick smiled the smile that melted the wits right out of Bobbie and scooped her up out of his lap. Holding her tightly, he kissed her innocent lips and squeezed her body tightly. In truth, there wasn’t much he needed to do to ready himself for his meeting, and Bobbies gift was wrapped and waiting. But the hot sting of lust had creeped into his loins. He needs to be away quickly before he did something he would regret. With one last kiss on the top of her head, he made for a hasty exit.

Wide-eyed, Bobbie tried to figure out what had just happened to her. One moment they were snuggled as close as two people could be, and then … she was dumped like a sack of taters and alone. She frowned. Would she ever understand that man? All she had wanted to do was get closer and enjoy his warmth. It was amazing how large and strong his body was. Working in the Navel yard since he was a young boy had caused his body to mature into a very strong, powerful device. Bobbie flushed as she thought about how he had felt under her, how easily he had tossed her around. It would feel divine to be held in those strong arms and led around the dance floor. For one moment in time, she would pretend that she could have the man she loved, and he could have her. Finally, something to look forward to. She skipped down the hall on her way to the bath. She couldn’t wait to have a dance with William at the ball. She didn’t care at the moment that she would be force to marry a man she didn’t love. She was content with the fact that she would have one last dance with the man she loved so desperately.

Never had the castle looked so exquisite. The chandelier was overloaded with crystals from floor to ceiling. Strands of pearls hung with large flowers. There were unreasonable amounts of food in every direction. The good linen was out, and so was the silverware. Jewels seemed to float on the walls as if my magic. There were twinkling candles just about everywhere the eye could see, casting a warm glow over the room that created an amazing ambiance. The room was packed with couples swaying together with the harmony of the music. The gowns of the well-dressed ladies of the upper class shimmered like moonlight on open water. The room was alive with conversation, music, and hearty laughter. Flowers of all colors adorned the castle walls as well as the staircase. The queen truly had outdone herself with the festive décor that transformed the castle into a garden fantasyland. Everyone looked happy in their best clothing. From the outside looking in, the birthday party of the princess was as perfect at a picture.

Dick’s heart sank straight into his shoes and filled with nothing but emptiness as he digested his surroundings.
As hard as he tried, he couldn’t partake in the gorgeous celebration of the birth of the woman he loved. Thoughts of the love of his life dancing the night away with other men made Dick’s blood boil. The anger nearly was more than he could bear. Dick grabbed a glass of brandy from a nearby butler catering to the all guests. He guzzled the brandy down in one gulp despite how badly it burnt his throat. Hesitantly, he grabbed another glass and took another long swig. He felt he had no reason to keep his wits about him. After all, he was going to get to dance with Bobbie only once before she disappeared into another life with another man. Dick searched deep within himself to find the courage and strength he needed to stay long enough to get his prize. After his dance with the princess, Dick felt he could walk away from his love in hopes of doing what he felt was right in his heart.

“William?” a voice called out not far from him.
 
Dick froze. He wasn't sure who the speaker was, but it didn't matter.
 
He figured that whomever stood behind him realized that there was a peasant amongst the highest social class in the kingdom. Dick felt as if he had been taken a blow to the gut. Obviously, Dick wasn’t going unnoticed. Chugging the rest of his brandy, he turned around to face what he expected to be a guard ready to lead him to the castle gates.

To Dick’s surprise, it was not a guard calling for him. In fact, Lord Gibbons was the gent who had called out to him. "I viewed the gallery, William," Lord Gibbons commented. "My favorite is of our late king. It is nothing short of breathtaking. It is an excellent tribute to a man of his stature. It is a shame our kingdom lost such a fine gent. The queen and princess must be very proud.”
             

Dick agreed solemnly with Lord Gibbons. Dick had always admired King Pete for his bravery, but didn’t always agree with his political movements. Lord Gibbons continued by shaking his head and saying, “The passing of the king was dreadful. However, he was an admirable man.”

Dick felt a tornado of emotions. Of course, he was saddened by the passing of the king as a loyal citizen. That did not change the fact that he was a wee bit envious. Dick’s father had also died in the same battle as King Pete when Dick and Bobbie Josephine were merely children. He wished for others to speak of his own father with admiration. The late Austin Donaldson had inspired Dick to pursue his artistic talents. Dick had loved his father fiercely.
 
Sergeant Donaldson had won many a battle. His strategies and attack tactics helped lead to the victory of the kingdom. Even though he died battling side by side with King Pete, Austin Donaldson was merely nothing more than a peasant with not a penny to his name.

Dick felt overwhelmed by the memories of his father. He felt anger because his father also died for the kingdom, but died without honor or recognition. Dick knew tonight would be the night he would say goodbye to someone else in his life that he greatly loved. Dick became overwhelmed with a whirlwind of emotions he could not control. Dick felt he deserved the hand of Princess Bobbie Josephine in marriage regardless of the fact that he lacked a noble title. Dick’s artistic skills made him a frequent guest as elite event such as the birthday celebration of the princess. However, it was always made clear to Dick that he did not belong in the ranks of the upper class. Dick was the son of a peasant man and Dick himself would die a peasant man.