The Compromised Duchess

Chapter 12

Giles inspected the small bouquet in his hands and deemed it fit for the lady. He paid the little girl selling them and continued his brisk walk towards Hyde park, acknowledging greetings from friends and acquaintances with a smile and a slight nod, or in the case of ladies, a tilt of his top hat.

He drew out his pocket watch and inspected the gold rimmed surface. It was a quarter to twelve, still ample time for his rendezvous with Lady Laurel.

A young man on horseback drew abreast and brought the gray gelding at a halt. “I say Rosehaven, why are you on foot?”

Giles paused and squinted up at the man. “Mind your own business, Alston.” He retorted, “Now toddle off, there’s a good lad.”

Alston burst into amused laughter and swung down from the saddle. He was of a height with Giles, but possessed a red, puffy face and slightly large stomach, all testaments to his fondness for drink.

“Ah, I see, you have flowers. Now I can understand why you are obviously in a hurry” He sidled closer, a mischievous grin on his florid features.

“Tell me, who is this fortunate lady.” He said, clapping Giles on the back, much to the latter’s irritation. “Anyone I know, hmm?”

“Perhaps,” Giles said curtly making a point of inspecting his watch again. A point that was lost on the happily oblivious Henry Alston. So he decided to be blunt. “These flowers are going to be useless if I miss my appointment with Lady Laurel, Alston, a situation which will not be good for you at all, because then, I shall be seized with a sudden desire to collect the three thousand pounds which I graciously gave you to pay off your gambling debt. Am I clear?”

The smirk disappeared from Alston’s face and he quickly backed off, “Gads old chap, you don’t have to be so hard. I’ll leave you to your meeting then, shall I?”

“By all means do” Giles smirked and pushed past, leaving Alston behind, the lad now wearing a look akin to fear. He smiled, sadistically and held up the bouquet to his nose, inhaling the scent of a mixture of flowers. He loved having the upper hand when it came to dealing with people, a habit that had served him very well in the past.

He entered the park and made for the oak tree he had once shared a picnic with Laurel, spying an unoccupied bench nearby and sat down to await the lady. A blue ribbon fluttered about and landed at his feet, and he stooped to pick it up, just as a lovely red haired girl came hurrying up, obviously with the intent to collect.

He held the ribbon in his right palm, twirling it slightly, and smiled at the girl when she came to a stop before him.

“Does this belong to you?” He asked, her, careful to keep his tone light and teasing so as not to frighten her off. The girl nodded, her jade green eyes fixed on him, and wiping her hands nervously on her gown.

“It’s a pretty ribbon,” He continued, holding her gaze, “But not as pretty as its owner. What is your name?”

The girl stared at him for a few more seconds, then nervously glanced back to her group, torn between the desire to retrieve her ornament, and the urge to flee to the safety of her governess.

“There’s no need to be alarmed” Giles said, handing back the ribbon, and deliberately letting his finger tips brush against hers when she touched it. He enjoyed seeing a spark of interest flare in those lovely eyes before it was quickly masked in confusion. “I mean you no harm, I simply wish to know your name so that we might be properly acquainted.”

“M...my name is Helen” The girl whispered, ducking her head, a delightful blush spreading across her cheeks. “Helen Woodridge.....sir”

“Hmm Woodridge....” Giles knew the name, and wondered if she was an offspring of the Viscount.

“Would your father by any chance be the Viscount, Lord Woodridge?”

She nodded again and glanced behind her, worried that her absence would soon be noticed. But her governess, Miss Perch was deeply engrossed in a novel and took no notice of her missing charge.

“How wonderful, I have had the pleasure of meeting your father a few times, and he is quite a remarkable man. I had no idea he had such beautiful daughter.”

Helen blushed again, and used the hand holding the ribbon to press against her chest and Giles noticed that she had already begun filling out and asked his next question,

“How old are you Miss Helen?”

“I'm going to be eighteen in November” Helen replied, with a shy smile.

“Delightful” He smiled back, “I am sure you will have a lot of suitors willing to do battle for you when you are finally presented to society. Pray you would not forget me then?”

“But I do not know your name” Helen protested, feeling slightly braver now, “I have told you mine but you have not told me yours.”

Giles slapped his forehead and laughed heartily, Helen joined in the laughter.

“How remiss of me,” He said when the laughter finally subsided, “I must be getting senile. My apologies for the error. My name is Giles, Giles Hartwell, Marquis of Rosehaven.”

Helen curtsied, her eyes sparkling in amusement, “I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Lord Rosehaven, thank you for catching my ribbon.”

He stood and reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips. She blushed charmingly and turned her head away, giggling.

“It’s a pleasure to be of service.” He dropped her hand and picked up the bouquet, extracting a single red rose and presenting it to her with a flourish. “Here is a gift for you, I hope you keep it and remember me?”

She took the rose and sniffed it, and in that instant, Helen Woodridge was certain that she had found her very own prince charming.

She turned and went back to her governess, turning to wave goodbye. Giles grinned and resumed his seat. A viscount’s daughter might not be much when it came to social status, but she would make a good plaything for him just as Cecil had been.

He shut his eyes and imagined the Lord Grayson's ward, the sweet eighteen year old girl who had given herself so willingly to him, until the Duke had intervened. He felt a rush of anger and balled his fists.

A shadow fell across him and he opened his eyes to find Lady Laurel staring at him, her eyes filled with worry.

“My Lord, are you feeling unwell?” She exclaimed, coming to sit beside him and placing a bare hand on his forehead. “You don’t appear to have a fever though.”

“I'm fine, I was simply wool gathering” He replied, taking her hand from his head and pressing a kiss on the palm. “I have been so worried about you though. How are you?”

She colored slightly at the contact, but replied, “I am fully recovered from my accident, I must apologize for Benedict’s beastly behaviour, Lord Giles, I am still mortified at the embarrassment he must have put you in”

“Tsk, it is no matter,” Giles kissed her palm again and lowered it to rest on his lap, entwined with his. “he was simply doing what he thought best for you. I would treat any man who appears to threaten the safety of my sisters in quite the same way”

He picked up the flowers and gave them to her. “These reminded me of you, your sweet disposition, coupled with your enchanting beauty, have been all I could think about for weeks.”

“Oh!” She gasped in delight, studying the flowers then looking at him, her lovely eyes shining in appreciation. For the first time since her encounter with Thomas, Laurel felt happy, and desired.

“You give me the most wonderful gifts and compliments, Lord Giles,” She said, beaming, “Thank you”

“It is my duty to serve you always, and I hope someday, you would grant me the pleasurable honor of always being the one to worship at your feet.”

“Oh my!” She whispered and turned so he would not see her blush. Was he hinting at a marriage proposal sometime in the near future? Oh dear god! This was too much to take in.

“I have made you uncomfortable, Giles said, and Laurel hastily turned back to him,

“Oh no, I was just thinking...about something personal”

He placed his hand under her chin, lifting her face, and bringing his mouth to brush against hers in the briefest of kisses, letting his breath fan over her face.

She drew back, alarmed and glanced about to make certain they were not spotted, “Have you lost your mind Lord Giles?” she demanded, relieved that no one seemed to have taken notice of the kiss. “Are you trying to ruin me?”

He felt amused at her alarm, but schooled his features so he appeared contrite. “I deeply apologize for my foolishness Lady Laurel; I honestly don’t know what came over me.”

“It is forgotten, fortunately, I don’t think anyone saw us.” Laurel said, “Would you like to go for a walk? It seems spring has decided to be favorable to us this year,”

He rose and helped her up, “By all means let’s. However, I think it would be prudent to avoid the river path, don’t you agree?”

“Oh yes!” she said with a little shiver as she remembered her near miss, “I hear the lilacs at the other side are in bloom, shall we go see?”

“Your wish is my command” He replied, and led the way.

He was careful to keep the conversation light and refrained from any more romantic gestures that would be sure to make her become self conscious again. He studied her carefully, the way her eyes lit up when she came upon something she particularly liked, her clear, guileless laughter that seemed to draw out the mirth in him too.

She seemed unaware of the admiring looks she drew from men, and the looks of envy she received from her female counterparts. She would make the perfect wife, indeed, once he had trained her in the art of pleasing him, he would retire into domestic bliss to reap the fruits of his labor.

“Can I offer you some refreshments my Lady?” he asked, once they were done inspecting the lilacs, “I see a refreshment booth just over by the gate. Perhaps some lemonade and baked apples?”

“Oh yes, that would be wonderful,” she replied. “I am quite ravenous”

“Then let me feed you,” he said, grinning when she dimpled prettily up at him. “I would not be a good host if you were to keel over and die of hunger in my company.”

The lemonade and baked apples were delicious, and Laurel felt a pang as she finished off the last of hers. Then she glanced up and noticed that the sun had begun to set.

“Bother!” she grumbled, getting up from the seat and brushing off her dress, “It’s getting late, I must be on my way now if I am to arrive home before nightfall.”

“May I escort you?” Giles asked, wishing now that he’d brought some sort of transportation, “I'm afraid I too came on foot, and it would grant me great pleasure to walk you home.”

“I would love for you to accompany me”

*****

As they crossed a field, overgrown with daises and daffodils, the skies suddenly let loose in a heavy downpour. They were immediately drenched, and Giles offered her his great coat to stop the rain from ruining her dress.

Giles spied an old log cabin, set some distance away and suggested they take shelter till the worst of the storm passed. Laurel nodded and hurried after him, trying to match up with his long strides, and was out of breath by the time Giles pushed open the door and ushered her in and wrestled with the wind to get the ancient wooden door shut.

Laurel took in her surroundings, noting the cabin appeared to have not been used for a long time, for there seemed to be cobwebs and dust hanging off every available surface. The roof leaked in several places, creating puddles on the sandy floor, and the place was bare save for a single derelict armchair, a table with crooked legs. She hugged the coat tighter, glad for the warmth it provided and turned to see that Giles had finally gotten the door shut, and was also looking around.

“It’s not exactly home sweet home but it will keep us safe for the time being” He said, his voice light and cheerful, despite his sodden state. His hair lay plastered against his head, and his clothes dripped water. “Why is it that every time we are together, we always manage to get ourselves wet?”

Laurel laughed, grateful for his attempt to ease her discomfort at being alone with him.

“I have absolutely no idea Lord Giles,” she replied, “Perhaps fate seems to enjoy tormenting us in bucketfuls”

“True” he reached into his pocket and drew out a handkerchief, using the white cloth to wipe his face and arms. “I hope you are not cold?”

She shook her head, “Your coat fended off the worst of the downpour, I only hope the storm dies down soon.”

He nodded and proceeded to inspect the armchair, finding it sturdy enough to be able to hold her weight without breaking. “I’ll dust this off, so you can sit, we may be here a while”

There was a resounding roar of thunder, and Laurel shivered. “I hate thunderstorms, they always sound so frightening”

Giles moved close, and placed a reassuring arm on her shoulder. “Rest easy Laurel, you are safe here”

Laurel noticed his use of her given name, but declined to comment, for fear of spoiling the mood, so she changed the subject, and pointed to the armchair, “Will that hold me?”

Giles sprang into action, using his handkerchief to wipe the dust from it. “I believe so. There, it’s all clean now, come here”

She moved close and sank down gratefully, while he went to the grimy window to check on the storm.

“It is still going strong, no sign of letting up yet” he announced, without turning from the view outside, “I wish I had thought to bring my carriage”

“You couldn’t have forecast that it would rain” Laurel soothed “It started out as such a lovely day” Another thunder clap sounded and she shuddered, “There is another reason I hate thunderstorms, they always remind me of my father’s passing”

Giles turned, and stared at her in astonishment, so she explained:

“It happened in Grisdale, our house in the country,” she said, staring into space as the painful memories came flooding back, “I was only ten at the time, so my memory might be a bit faulty, but I do know that Papa had gone riding with William, who had just turned fifteen, and had gotten a magnificent steed from Papa as a present, and he wanted so badly to go for a ride, though the clouds were heavy with impending rain.” she paused and swallowed, her eyes filled with unshod tears. “to this day, William blames himself and refuses to ride on horseback.”

Giles left the window and came to stand by her, and Laurel drew strength from his nearness.

“The rain began while they were gone, and I can remember Mother, waiting anxiously by the window in her bedroom, for it seemed they had been gone for hours. Then, we heard an anxious shout and we ran down to find Papa, all covered in mud and blood, his eyes shut, looking deathly pale. William was huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth, and I remember Mother screaming something at him, perhaps an explanation for what happened.”

“A villager had come upon a frantically shouting William while he made his way home through the mud. There had been a mudslide, and the horse had spooked, and thrown Papa, then slipped in the mud and fell on him.” Laurel burst into sobs, and turned to bury her face in Giles chest, feeling his comforting arms wrap around her. “They took Papa into his room and I never saw him alive again”

“Hush now, my darling,” Giles stroked her damp hair while he whispered words of comfort. “It’s all in the past now, I’m sure your dear father would want you to be happy when you think of him,”

She clung to him for long minutes, his stroking lulling her to sleep, so she allowed her eyes to drift shut, and she let sleep claim her.