The Duchess War

Robert’s arms were warm against her ribs, his chest moving in time with her breath. The silence of the room enfolded them. There was nothing around, nobody near. Just her and the memories.

“As a child, there’s a curious blindness you have to the faults of your parents. My father was my dearest friend. We were always together. He taught me everything I knew. He’d never had a harsh word for me. I absolutely worshipped him. He used to say that if we only believed hard enough, everything would turn out all right. That if you’d just think and wait, you’d find a way. When I refused to throw the game, he found his way.” She took another deep breath. “He told the scandal sheets that I was a girl. In the middle of the tournament.”

She could still see the board in the final round. She’d just kissed her rook and set it on the board. She had been four moves from mate.

“The officials interrupted me. They disqualified me. They tossed me out on my ear, and it was all over the London papers the next few days. Everything I had been, everything—all the people who I thought were my friends, all the things that I’d accomplished—were wiped away. I had masqueraded as a boy, and I’d scandalized everyone.”

“Amazing it lasted as long as it did,” he said.

“I was twelve. Had it been one more year… Then I would have grown my bosom, and there would have been no hiding the truth at all.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what would have happened in the ordinary course of events. But now that the truth had come out, people began to ask questions of my father. There were thousands of pounds at stake in his business, and his stories didn’t stand up to inquiry. His trial was a very public affair. I attended—twelve years old, wearing skirts for the first time in years, awkward and uncertain. It was there I first heard my father’s defense. He claimed he was driven to do it. By me. He said that I told him to dress me as a boy and take me with him. I came up with the scheme involving faked Russian industry. I caused his ruin. I did it all.”

Robert put his arm around her. “You were five when it started.”

“I was an unnatural child. That’s what he said—over and over. I was an unnatural child. And who could disagree? I was demonstrably odd. Able to beat grown men at chess, some of the best in the world. I was so quiet, always watching. It didn’t help that everyone could see me at the trial, could see how strange I was. I had no idea how to move like a girl. My hair was short. I’d spent the years of my childhood with dissolute men. I didn’t know the first thing about proper behavior.

“My father always said if you believed a thing hard enough, reality would have no choice but to make it true. When he testified on the stand, he’d convinced himself. He called me devil’s spawn in front of all of London.”

She had thought things couldn’t get any worse than that frozen horror in the courtroom—seeing the man she’d loved, the man who had never had a harsh word for her, point at her and denounce her. Seeing the frightening light in his eyes that said he believed it. He had been all she had in the world—and he’d left her suddenly, publicly alone.

“He was a charismatic, convincing man. They convicted him, not of theft, but of petty fraud—enough to give him two years’ hard labor, but no more. But the people who had been there were convinced that he’d been wronged. When I left the courtroom, completely of myself, I was surrounded by a mob. They shouted. They spat. I don’t know who threw the first rock. I don’t know how many they threw.” She looked over at him. “I fainted by the time they were pulled off me, but I’ve never forgotten it. Ever since then, I can’t bear crowds. I think of them, and I start to shake. I just utterly panic.”

“Have you never had anyone to stand by you?” he asked. His voice was low and hoarse.

“My great-aunts. Lydia, until—” She nearly choked saying those words. But even then, she’d not been able to trust in them. Her great-aunts would pass away. She’d always known that someday, Lydia would find out the truth and take a disgust to her. “Up until the end, I would never have guessed that my father would do that. I like to think that maybe he was ill. That he didn’t know what he was doing when he betrayed me.” Her eyes glistened. “He passed away in prison, so maybe it was true. I have to believe that, because no matter how I try, I can’t stop loving him. He taught me everything I knew. He was my entire life. And I don’t know how to hate him as much as he deserves. So you see, Your Grace, I can’t marry you. I can’t even think of it without shaking. London society would tear me apart.”

“No,” he said quietly. “It won’t.”

She turned to him. “How can you say that?”

“It won’t,” he promised, “because I won’t let that happen.” He turned her chin so that she looked him in the eyes. “Once, you told me I was lucky because I could look wherever I wished without fear. I don’t think I really began to understand what you meant until I found out…” His arms closed around her more tightly. “I knew you were upset. You told me you were frightened. Lucky me, that I could not understand what you meant—how terrified you were.”

She was shaking.

“I give you my word that if you marry me, I will protect you. I will stand by your side and never do harm to you. I’ve already spoken with Stevens and Charingford, and they’ll keep their mouths shut. I promise you on all that I keep sacred that I will do my utmost to keep your past secret, and that if I should fail in that, I will use everything in my power to keep you safe. You will never again need to fear if you marry me.”

“And what will I have to give you in return?”

“Your allegiance.” He held her close. “For as long as we can stand one another’s presence, your body would be nice, too. I don’t expect love. I don’t expect you’ll want me forever. But I think that we could make a good go of it.”

“You don’t expect love.” She shook her head in confusion. “This is the second time you’ve said that. Is this going to be like one of those dreadful novels where you warn me not to fall in love with you, and if I do, then you’ll turn into Bluebeard and try to lop my head off? You’re handsome. You have all your teeth.” She looked into his eyes and lightly touched her hand to his cheek. He grew very still. “I can offer you no promises. If you’re any good in bed, I might fall in love with you. If that is going to be anathema…”