Authors: Tencia Winters,Serena Vale
REGENCY: Loved by the Duke (Historical Billionaire Military Romance) (19th Century Victorian Short Stories)
Loved by the Duke
***
Charismatic
Emma Hadlington
believed becoming a Duchess was the icing on the cake for her perfect life but plagued with a husband who she believes despises her open and charming personality, she charms the hungry eyes of their dinner guests. Determined to reconcile whatever friendship they ever had, the Duke and Duchess take a ride to resolve their differences but a desperate tenant of their county is out for blood as the tragic events that will alter Emma’s life forever unfold, she is left to realize what is truly important in her life.
Copyright 2016 by Tencia Winters - All rights reserved.
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Table of Contents
Bonus Stories:
Loving My Savage Russian Billionaire
Italian Billionaire’s Holiday Bride
Tamed by the Russian Billionaire
Rescued By Billionaire Dragons
Russian Billionaire’s Holiday Bride
Charmed by the Wicked Billionaire
The Highlander’s Surrender Bride
Emma Hadlington had always been considered a woman of tremendous beauty and clever wit. So much so, she had begun in her youth to fancy herself a confident lady with a handsome air about her. She had long enticed the company and affectionate eyes of men to her advantage and it had served her well in securing her a position as a Duchess. The Duchess of Donhall. Now her accomplishments seemed utterly complete, she was left with nothing but the time to gloat and it did nothing to help her humility. She had become enchanted by her own triumphs and her own intellect and equally, if not more so, had enchanted others by it too. Emma basked in that knowledge now as she sat amongst her equals in society but above them in the seating arrangement.
The dining table spread for what seemed like miles down the length of the dining room and she would jest at how she could barely make out her husband on the other end. Lady Hadlington marvelled in the sophistication of just this one simple room of her whole graceful house. Emma could not deny she was proud of this beautiful house, the history and culture she had now become a part of. There was something so alluring about it. In the midst of all the splendid decor of tradition and style was an enormous feast of the most expensive taste. It was sight even for the sorest of eyes.
Platters of succulent meats, exotic vegetables and divine sauces and soups that delighted the nose and watered the mouth flooded the table before them. It was a display worthy of them all and Emma was more than pleased with it. She gazed upon her guests in pleasure as she flaunted and flirted her way through the night. Lady Hadlington had breezed through life without many worries to distress her and she had respected her blessed life as much as she could, as her mother liked to remind her but as her ignorance of pain took its toll on her character, she more readily participated in shameful activities of late. She was still young in herself and very, if not incredibly, beautiful.
That uncomplicated fact pondered in her mind as she jested and flirted with a handsome gentleman to her right. His dark eyes followed, hungrily, the smooth curve of her perfectly oval face, the dazzling whiteness of her smile and the tempting splendour of her good looks. Emma was naturally flattered and indulged the feeling as much as possibly could. She laughed at every attempt he made to make her laugh. She smiled flirtatiously at every becoming comment. She was intrigued at what qualities she possessed that charmed him so. She had dressed herself up with precision. Her silky blonde locks had been twisted up into a graceful style, she was particularly proud of, and golden jewels were entwined with the lush curls of her lavished hair. Expensive muslin and silk engulfed her bodice in flattering attire. More attractive than her apparel was her beautiful face. Her dark blue eyes were unconditionally charismatic; a fluctuation of murky blues casting spells on the lusts of her company. Her cheeks were the perfect shade of blush and her plump pink lips pouted seductively more frequently than they probably should.
Every now and then she would glance casually at her husband and he would watch her with the same distain he had worn ever since the day they had married. It was true that the only flaw in Emma’s life was that she and her husband despised one another.
*
Emma found the breakfast table the next morning considerably quieter and disturbingly so. The infrequent clanging of their cutlery on the porcelain plates was deafening in the silence of the morning. She sat directly opposite the lanky frame of her husband further down the table. She observed him and his mood. His dark eyes studied some sort of paper and his bushy brows furrowed in concentration. He was not a handsome man, thought Emma; she never had believed him to be. His crooked nose was too long, his jaw line too sharp and angular. Charles Hadlington had a weary look about him and his aged face and greying hair added years to him.
His mood was something easier to read than the Duke himself. He was cursed with a permanent scowl painted across his features and his glaring stares repelled people significantly. Emma coughed slightly, staring at him as he looked up to notice her.
Lord Hadlington stared continuously at his wife and she back at him, each waiting for the other to speak.
“Did you enjoy yourself this past evening?” enquired Emma, smiling acerbically.
Emma watched his eyes flicker almost angrily around, as she expected, but there was a solemn look in his eyes that shocked her greatly. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat; aches of regret pulled at her stomach. The Duke sighed loudly.
“I found the company too loud,” he spoke plainly. “Did you enjoy your evening?”
Emma swallowed and nodded silently. “I did.”
“I noticed,” he muttered, looking back down to his paper.
Lady Hadlington felt her anger immerge but she controlled her desire to explode it across the breakfast table. His lack of interest in her had long confused her but it had grown very tiresome of late. Emma saw no troubles in indulging herself with the harmless flatteries and flirtations of other men whilst her husband ignored her amiable qualities and left her no choice but to search for attention elsewhere. Today, though, was the first time she had felt bitter regret over her, what could be called foolish, actions.
The Duke and Duchess remained in an awkward silence as the breakfast dragged unbearably on. The servants trod carefully around them, cautiously and silently offering food to them. Emma ate quietly until the piercing screech of the chair dragging across the floor made her jump. Lord Hadlington pushed his chair in himself and glanced at the table as he paused for a moment. Emma stared at him in confusion. He did not look at her when he spoke.
“I would be obliged if you would join for a ride this afternoon, Emma.”
Emma stared at him overcome with surprise and responded quickly. “Of course.”
He nodded slowly and glanced at her for moment before he exited the room. Emma watched after him in some amazement before hastily exiting the room herself.
Emma sat in the warm and homely essence of her library, although she was not an avid reader herself, she prized the mere smell of books and the striking feel of them. But she merely admired them from afar these days. In the early days of her marriage, she had been intrigued by the titles and the lives of all the novels and textbooks that inhabited the walls to collect some knowledge into her husband’s mind and heart. Now, she sat organising the meals plans for weeks ahead.
Lady Hadlington pondered over the possible reasons her husband would want to go riding with her. She had no doubt she was in for some sort of scolding but surely he could have saved time, as usual, and lectured her over breakfast. It was a puzzlement, to be sure, but Emma was determined not to let it vex her in any way. She glanced up through the window above her. The view was endearing. Such array and vastness of scenic beauty unveiled itself before her. Emma was not so immersed in her own attractiveness that she failed to see the other wonders in beauty in the mesmerising world around her; in fact, she contemplated on it on a daily basis.
The scene through the shadowed glass was bursting with light. The glaring sun exposed the secret colours of the pale grass and the patterned bark of the trees. Summer leaves exploded the branches with the deepest shade of green; rich in its appearance, it radiated immense quality.
Emma looked out across the fields that stretched out for miles and the elegant patches of forest that appealed to the eye and any want of adventure. She wondered, all those miles away, what her family was doing. Her father was most surely imprisoned in his study. Her mother arranging and rearranging the floristry. Her sister, she knew, was glued to the stool of her piano forte, subjecting the ears of the house to hear wonderful music. Emma envied her younger version of herself who was enjoying the thrills of youth all those years ago.
Lady Hadlington was expected to bear some sort of offspring soon, ideally a son. The Duke’s need of a male heir still did not seem to outweigh his desire to refrain from loving his wife and hence the lack of children was explained. Emma sighed. Any other man would have appreciated her beauty. Actually, every other man did appreciate her beauty. Unfortunately, none of them were Dukes and therefore, did not appeal to the tastes of Emma and her parents.
There was a gentle yet distinctive knock at the door that brought Emma back into reality. She turned to see the maid, Jane, entering and she smiled at her, composing herself and disguising whatever pained expression she had been wearing before.
“Forgive the intrusion, your Grace,” she bowed gracefully. “But I thought you might want to begin getting ready for your ride with his Grace.”
Lady Hadlington nodded and organised her papers before leaving with Jane, preparing herself mentally for whatever emotional drama was about to be exposed.
The summer breeze whipped fiercely around the Duchess’ face but she was unperturbed by it. There was a certain feeling of freedom and flight about the sensation of the wind. Her legs were draped unnaturally yet charmingly over the giant frame of the gargantuan beast. Her posture arched in a way, she was sure, was not good for her. Today, Emma simply could not care for the customs of tradition, so she urged her horse gallantly on.
The afternoon heat was stifling; the intense glare of the sun bore down furiously upon them and they were glad of the harsh breeze that accompanied their canter. Charles sped past her on his magnificent black creature, galloping rapidly ahead of her. Emma kicked her horse faster and her competitive side beginning to surface as she raced after him; a giddiness erupting inside her stomach.
Lord Hadlington began to slow as he neared some familiar trees they had often visited in their lives at Donhall. Emma imitated him as he slowed to a stop and jumped carelessly off the beast. He strode to her side; his eyes avoided her gaze, and helped her down off her horse. She felt the bony feel of his long fingers pressure into the curve of her waist.
Under the shade of the tree, she watched the leaves and branches swaying in the unsympathetic wind as her husband stood silently and hesitantly away from her. Emma waited a moment before turning to him. Charles looked at her in a way that was unsettling and nothing she had ever seen before. Anger? Jealousy? Humour? She was haunted significantly by his expression.
“Emma?” his voice escaped his mouth mellifluously.
“Charles?” she breathed back with a small dose of confidence.
“Emma, I feel I must address something with you.” He proclaimed plainly.
Emma sighed, disappointed, she somehow had expected something more. “If you must,” she invited him to continue.
Charles looked at her sharply but composed him before speaking again.
“It might come as a surprise to you, Emma,” he began. “But I have more pressing matters that demand my attention than my discrepancies with you.”
Emma was taken aback by his declaration.
“Very pressing demands, indeed.” He expressed for detail. “Despite this, I would like to take this time to address our issues.”
“Address our issues?” repeated Emma.
“Yes,” his temper rising and stepping closer to her. “Whatever causes your intolerable and humiliating behaviour in the company of others must be swiftly addressed and eradicated.” He bellowed with heart.
“
My
humiliating behaviour?” she cried, interrupting him. “Eradicated? You speak of me as if I were a cancer.”
“You behave as a cancer to my reputation.” He roared, towering over her but she did not cower from him. “Do you wish me to be a source of amusement for those against me or a source of pity amongst my friends? That I cannot contain the flirtatious flaunts of my silly wife.” He spat.
Emma was overcome with rage and she slapped him viciously but he did not back away.
“You humiliate yourself that you cannot show your wife any slight display of affection, she must seek it elsewhere.”
Charles huffed loudly in disbelief.
“Do you believe these great men of our day beat their wives into submission? Those with loyal wives loved their women and in return, they wanted nothing more than to show their love and respect.” She proclaimed, unable to contain her passion. “I do not respect you!”
“Finally, you speak honestly,” he mocked her.
“What have I done to make you despise me so?” she implored.
“Are you joking?” Charles looked shocked.
Emma gave a loud tut. “Of course, I deliberately loathed you from my first meeting with you and conspired to humiliate you,” her sarcasm ringing clear. “Why must you set yourself against me Charles? You never once attempted to make us friends.”
“I never despised you,” he looked wounded.
“You never liked me either,” she stated and paused. “I may have chosen a Duke, Charles, but you chose me.”
Emma was angered at the sudden emotion in her voice and she hated the look in his eyes that followed and she turned away from him.
“I know,” he said quietly and stepped closer to her.
“You may not love me, Charles,” she muttered. “But we could at least attempt to become friends.”
“I did not say I did not love you, Emma,” he breathed behind her.
Emma was surprised and she spun around to search his features for any hints of genuine feeling. She was frightened to find it there. He grabbed her, suddenly and kissed her fiercely. Emma did not how to respond. She was not so indifferent to him to not respond to him completely but she was so unsure of what to do. Charles pulled back just as suddenly and walked away from her. Emma was perplexed considerably and was utterly speechless.