Dukes and Indiscretions Read online

  Dukes and Indiscretions

  Wendy Soliman

  Dukes and Indiscretions

  Copyright © Wendy Soliman 2019

  Edited by Perry Iles

  Cover Design by Jane Dixon-Smith

  This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations contained are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance of actual living or dead persons, business, or events. Any similarities are coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any method, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of

  The Author – Wendy Soliman

  This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction fines and/or imprisonment. The e-Book cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this e-Book can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the author.

  Chapter One

  London: Autumn 1816

  ‘You look beautiful, my love.’

  Georgia Bentham stood back and critically examined her sister as she modelled her wedding gown for the benefit of their aunt Esther. Imogen’s svelte figure was draped in delicate French gauze, richly embellished with cream lace and decorative flounces—but nothing could compete with the quality of her beaming smile. Never had there been a more radiant bride.

  The memories of Georgia’s own nuptials, which had been hastily arranged during her husband’s furlough, caused Georgia’s eyes to flood with tears. The plans that she and David had made for a future that wasn’t destined to be were as fresh in her mind now as they had been three long and painful years ago. Neither of them had imagined when making those plans that a French bayonet might end David’s life before the ink on their marriage lines even had a chance to dry.

  There were so many other things that a naïve Georgia had failed to consider, but all of that was in the past now. It was Imogen’s turn to embrace matrimony, and it was a time to celebrate and look to the future. Thankfully the guns had fallen silent and there was no prospect of Imogen’s beloved Gerald suffering the same fate as his older brother.

  ‘You are a vision of loveliness,’ Aunt Esther agreed, wiping tears from her cheeks and snuffling into her handkerchief.

  ‘Your Gerald will think he is the luckiest man in the world,’ Georgia added, ‘and he’d be right. What’s more, he will make a constant and adoring husband. He had better, otherwise I couldn’t bring myself to part with you.’

  ‘Oh, Georgie, what a thing to say! Gerald is the very best of men. And all brides have a duty to be radiant. It’s rather expected of them.’

  ‘Ture,’ Georgia conceded. ‘But in your case you don’t have to put any effort into it, which seems a little unfair on brides generally.’ Georgia pinched her sister’s cheek, smiling into lovely blue eyes that sparkled with suppressed excitement.

  ‘It’s true, my dear,’ Aunt Esther added. ‘You really do look exquisite. Dear Gerald will be quite overcome.’

  Imogen swirled in a circle, somehow managing not to tangle her legs in her train. She threw out her arms and laughed aloud. ‘I want to remember for the rest of my life how I feel at this precise moment,’ she said. ‘in the company of the two people I love most in the world. Apart from Gerald, of course.’

  ‘Oh, of course. Gerald must come first for you now,’ Georgia agreed, sharing a smile with their aunt.

  ‘I am so very lucky to have the freedom of choice. And I choose to marry Gerald because I am madly in love with him—and he with me, I hope.’

  ‘There’s no question about that,’ Georgia said. ‘One only has to see the two of you together. There might as well be no one else in the room, for all the attention you pay to us.’

  ‘My point is that not all young women have the freedom of choice. They either have to marry for money or they feel pressured into accepting the first offer they receive for fear of becoming ape leaders.’

  ‘Well, you didn’t want for offers, but we all knew that Gerald was the only man who would ever win your hand, my dear,’ Aunt Esther said. ‘And quite right too. I only wish that…’ She glanced at Georgia and her words trailed off.

  ‘Yes, I wish David could still be here too, Aunt,’ Georgia said briskly. ‘So that he could have the pleasure of standing beside his younger brother as his groomsman. But I am sure he will be watching for a better place and wishing you both well, Imogen. Please don’t feel sad for me. I have accepted that he’s gone.’

  ‘The Duke of Rochester will stand beside Gerald instead.’ Imogen remained still as a statue as her maid helped her out of her gown. She gave a little shudder. ‘I know he is Gerald’s cousin, and he has never been anything other than civil and attentive when our paths cross, but I get tongue-tied and never quite know what to say to him. He is so very…well, imposing. But you, Georgie, nothing intimidates you.’

  Georgia smiled and gave her sister a fond hug. ‘Off to bed with you now. It’s still early, I know, but you need to look your very best tomorrow.’

  ‘Quite right, my dear,’ Aunt Esther agreed. ‘I think I shall retire too. I declare, all the excitement has quite worn me out.’

  ‘I wonder what Gerald is doing now,’ Imogen said in a reflective tone. ‘Drinking the cellars dry at Rochester House, I have no doubt. It’s all very well for the duke, I expect he has a hard head, but I hope he does not encourage Gerald into too much indiscretion. I so want him to enjoy our day as much as I intend to.’

  ‘Hush now.’ Georgia kissed her sister, then her aunt. ‘I shall see you both early in the morning.’

  ‘Good night, dearest.’ Imogen knelt up on her bed and threw her arms around Georgia. ‘You are the best and most generous sister a girl could wish for.’

  ‘If I do spoil you, it’s because you have the sweetest nature in the world and richly deserve to be spoiled.’

  Georgia smiled as she and their aunt left Imogen’s room and parted company on the landing. Georgia, ten years her sister’s senior, wondered if she had ever been so carefree, so deliriously and uncomplicatedly content.

  Very likely not.

  Their parents had died of scarlet fever when Georgia had been twelve and Imogen still a baby. Georgia had been obliged to grow up early and assume responsibility for her sister, despite the fact that there was plenty of money to ease their path and lawyers proficient enough to administer the estate until Georgia came of age and insisted upon assuming that responsibility herself. Aunt Esther, their mother’s sister, had lived with them since then, but even as a twelve-year-old Georgia had always been more worldly wise than her aunt, proficient at spotting those who intended to exploit or manipulate her family.

  Or so she had always thought.

  Aunt Esther had taken on the role of a maternal figure, especially for Imogen. Meanwhile Georgia had become…well, everything. Sister, niece, confidante, decision-maker. It sometimes felt very lonely, despite the fact that she knew her own mind and lived a privileged existence surrounded by the very best of everything.

  Georgia wandered downstairs, avoiding the large drawing room in their Berkeley Square house, part of the magnificent estate that she had inherited upon her parents’ death, in favour of the more intimate morning room. She picked up her discarded book and sat in front of the fire with it open on her lap. But her mind wandered and she couldn’t concentrate. She realised that she had read the same passage three times without absorbing a word and set the book aside, wondering why she felt so anxious. Tomorrow would
be a day of joy that would see Georgia absolved of all responsibility for her sister’s well-being, so her restlessness seemed misplaced. She would miss Imogen, it was true, but she would also be afforded more freedom to please herself.

  She frowned when she heard someone wielding the door knocker. Visitors had been calling all day with flowers, presents and congratulations ahead of tomorrow’s ceremony. The servants had been run off their feet preparing the wedding breakfast. Georgia had supervised every small detail, leaving nothing to chance, and no one had any business calling at nine in the evening. Whoever it was, Calder, the family’s butler, would get rid of them. Georgia picked her book up again, determined to finish what had started out to be an interesting work of fiction.

  ‘My pardon, ma’am,’ Calder said from the open doorway. ‘I am aware that you did not wish to be disturbed, but the Duke of Rochester is here and insists upon speaking with you upon a matter of urgency.’

  ‘Good heavens!’

  Georgia felt surprise and a modicum of concern. Ellery Bentham had absolutely no business here. He tended to avoid all contact with Georgia whenever politely possible, so this was not a social call. The closeness they had enjoyed as children on neighbouring estates had not survived into adulthood. His present duty was to keep a weather eye on Gerald—a pressing responsibility that for all his failings the duke would take seriously. It followed that the urgent matter that brought him to her door related to Gerald, and her sense of foreboding intensified.

  God forbid that Gerald had undergone an eleventh hour change of heart. No, it was impossible! She shook her head to dislodge such a ridiculous idea. Gerald was devoted to Imogen. Besides, he was a gentleman to his fingertips and if he did want to postpone his nuptials for some reason, he would not send another person to break the news.

  ‘Show him in, Calder.’

  Georgia stood and barely had time to smooth the creases from her gown and pat her wayward curls in the vain hope of restoring some semblance of respectability to her coiffure before the duke’s tall, imposing figure filled the doorway.

  ‘His Grace, the Duke of Rochester, ma’am,’ Calder said, inclining his head and then withdrawing, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Georgia felt a little breathless as she looked up into the exceptionally handsome face of Ellery Bentham. That sweep of dark hair falling across his equally dark eyes, his chiselled features and rugged good looks, so similar to her dead husband’s that they always caused her heart to skip a beat. Ellery’s reserve, his aloofness, implied that she’d made an unworthy wife in his eyes for the cousin with whom he’d always been so very close. Georgia had absolutely no idea what she had done to turn her childhood friend against her. She was the one who ought to have been resentful and failed to understand why they were unable to put their differences aside and comfort one another when David had been cut down on the field of battle. Instead, Ellery had turned away from her and treated her with icy politeness whenever he couldn’t avoid her company.

  ‘Ellery, what brings you to my door tonight of all nights. Do you not have a duty to ensure that Gerald remains relatively sober? And why are you looking so strained?’ Georgia added when he regarded her for a prolonged moment without speaking. ‘You’re starting to worry me. Say something, for heaven’s sake.’

  Ellery strode further into the room. ‘Is Imogen in bed?’

  ‘Yes.’ Georgia wrinkled her brow. ‘Surely you don’t need to see her. What can be so important? I would prefer not to wake her.’

  ‘Absolutely. I don’t want to see her.’ She waved him towards a chair. He waited for her to resume her own, then swished the tails of his coat aside and sat. ‘There’s no easy way to break this to you, Georgia, so I shall just come straight out and say it.’

  Yet he hesitated, repeatedly running a hand through his hair, a gesture she recalled from their childhood when he was worried about something or had got himself into a scrape that would likely result in a thrashing. His eyes had turned as dark as obsidian, there was a rigid set to his jaw and his posture lacked its customary assuredness.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked in a voice a little above a whisper.

  ‘It’s Gerald.’ Ellery cleared his throat. ‘He’s…well, the fact of the matter is that he’s gone missing.’

  ‘Missing?’ Georgia blinked, then laughed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You cannot possibly lose a bridegroom. That would be very careless, and carelessness is an accusation that no one could level at you.’

  Ellery stood and paced the length of the room, scowling like he bore the entire world a grudge. Georgia had never seen him half so hesitant, other than when he had been obliged to inform her of David’s death. The poised, highly sought after, some would say cold and arrogant duke, was never anything other than forthright and self-assured. Nor was he given to playing pranks. Especially not at her expense. Georgia began to take him seriously.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked. ‘I thought you were coming up to London from Rochester together yesterday. Imogen and I just assumed that you were already here in Rochester House.’

  ‘I came ahead two days ago. I had some legal affairs to attend to concerning the manor house and fifty acres in Rochester that Imogen and Gerald were leasing from me.’

  Georgia blinked. ‘What about them?’

  ‘I have decided to give the property to Gerald as a wedding gift. I came up to finalise the arrangements with my lawyers.’

  Georgia flexed a brow. ‘That is remarkably generous of you.’

  Ellery waved the compliment aside. ‘I have more property than I can keep track of. Gerald is my only remaining relative. It seemed like a good solution to both our problems.’ He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘They say no good deed goes unpunished. If we had stuck to the original plan and travelled together… However, that’s beside the point.’

  ‘Surely Gerald didn’t come up alone.’ Georgia knew the roads were not always safe, even a well-travelled route such as the one between Rochester and London.

  ‘Gerald and his man Powell were coming up together yesterday.’ Ellery threw his head back and closed his eyes. ‘Powell arrived alone. Seems Gerald had ordered a piece of jewellery for Imogen that he wanted to collect from the jeweller we use in Rochester in person. He told Powell to come on ahead with the carriage. Gerald has a new horse that he wanted to put through its paces.’

  Georgia rolled her eyes. ‘Of course he did.’

  ‘He reckoned he would get here ahead of Powell but…’

  ‘But he never arrived. I assume you’ve been looking for him, which is why I am only just learning about this.’

  ‘Of course I damned well have!’ Ellery waved an apology and moderated his tone. ‘I sent people out immediately. We know he collected the jewellery but we haven’t been able to find any trace of him since then. He didn’t return to Bentham Hall, that much I also know. We’ve asked at all the posting inns, and enquired about accidents, riderless horses being seen, that sort of thing.’ Ellery spread his hands. ‘Nothing. It’s as if he’s disappeared into thin air.’

  ‘Oh God! I don’t believe this is happening.’ Georgia dropped her head into her splayed hands and shook it from side to side. ‘Poor Imogen. And Poor Gerald, for that matter. I cannot believe that he would have disappeared through choice.’

  ‘Of course not,’ Ellery replied, a hint of impatience in his tone.

  ‘Very well. At least we agree on something.’ Georgia matched his terse attitude, as worried and upset as he appeared to be. ‘What the devil are we to do now? I am sure you have suggestions.’

  ⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

  Ellery watched Georgia absorb the disturbing news, impressed by the way she controlled her reaction and didn’t break down. Not that he would have expected her to. She had barely shed a tear at David’s passing; at least not in public. Ellery was glad that her aunt and Imogen were not in the room, since neither one of them would have been able to keep their emotions in check.

  ‘It must seem like history repeatin
g itself,’ Ellery said, softening his tone. ‘I am so very sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings. Again.’

  ‘Let’s hope that Gerald’s situation is not as fatal as David’s,’ she replied, a slight tremor in her voice the only indication of her extreme anxiety. Imogen, he knew, was the entire focus of Georgia’s life, and had been ever since she’d assumed responsibility for her at such a young age. Ellery would admire her dedication, but for the fact that he couldn’t afford the luxury of admiring a single thing about her. ‘You have consulted all his friends here in London, I assume, and checked at his clubs,’ Georgia continued. ‘I can easily imagine other young men persuading him to take a brandy or two to celebrate his imminent nuptials, one thing leading to another and Gerald passing out insensible somewhere.’

  Ellery shook his head. ‘We have asked everywhere. He hasn’t been seen. Besides, he would have come straight to me before going on elsewhere.’

  ‘Of course he would. You’re his hero.’ She made it sound like the accusation it was probably intended as. ‘In that case, we have to assume that Gerald has either had an accident and hasn’t yet been discovered, which hopefully is the case. If he took a shortcut away from the main road, he could be lying somewhere with a broken leg, unable to call for help.’ She looked away, but not so quickly that Ellery didn’t notice the tears that swamped her eyes. She would hate to know that he had observed a moment of weakness that made her appear briefly more accessible. ‘I have to believe that’s more likely.’

  ‘I hope you are right, but somehow doubt it. Gerald is an expert horseman.’

  She arched a brow. ‘And horses are never unpredictable? You said his horse was new, and knowing him as I do, I expect that it’s also very spirited.’

  Ellery conceded the point by lifting one shoulder. ‘True, but even so…’

  ‘The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.’ She lifted her head and stared directly at Ellery through huge, terrified eyes, suddenly appearing very vulnerable. She was arguably the strongest-willed woman he knew, and that brief glimpse of vulnerability only served to increase the guilt Ellery felt at not having taken better care of Gerald. ‘I know for a fact that he would not have jilted Imogen, so the possibility remains that he has been abducted.’