The Accidental Duke (The Mad Matchmaking Men of Waterloo Book 1) by Devlin, Barbara (love letters to the dead .TXT) 📕

utter devastation, black as a bottomless pit. When he rubbed the back of her neck, she jumped and then met his gaze, and he spied unshed tears. In silence, he cursed.

His world shifted in that moment, and he focused on her response and her needs, as he tried to comfort her in the midst of the harsh truth of their position. To his surprise, she brushed him aside and leaped from the chair. With no small hint of disdain, she charged the doctor.

“I demand you release us, at once.” Toe to toe with Shaw, she squared her shoulders. “You cannot keep us here, forever. When I am free, I shall see to it you are severely punished for your illegal actions. I shall shout from the treetops in Hyde Park. I shall appeal to His Majesty for justice, if that is what it takes. Now, I say again, let us go.”

For an instant, an eerie hush fell on the room, and Anthony braced.

Then, the doctor smiled a sickeningly sweet smile that did not inspire confidence, and Anthony flinched. Tension grew, and his gut wound tight as a clock spring. The floor beneath his feet seemed to pitch and roll.

“My dear Lady Rockingham, since you fail to comprehend the purpose and breadth behind His Grace’s commands, permit me to explain, so there are no further misunderstandings between us. First, despite your forceful protestations, you are going nowhere until I allow it. Given you married Lord Rockingham, English law defines you as his property. Since Lord Rockingham has been deemed mentally incapacitated, his custody is remanded to his father, the Duke of Swanborough. I am tasked at His Grace’s directive and act in accordance with his wishes.” The villain counted on his hand. “Second, you are restricted to your quarters, and the doors will be locked at all times. If you wish to stroll the garden or peruse the library, you will do so under my supervision. Third, you are to produce an heir. Once the required child is conceived, Lady Rockingham will remain as a guest of His Grace until her confinement results in a healthy birth. Thereafter, she may return to London, leaving the babe in the care of those best equipped to prepare him for future duties. Finally, Lord Rockingham is to be placed in a medical facility, where I will direct his treatment, until I determine His Lordship is safe to resume his place in society. Now, are we clear?”

Panic surged to the fore, and Anthony yanked at his collar. Perspiration trickled down his cheek, and he suspected he might swoon. His stomach churned and he swayed. Just when he feared he would run amok; Arabella met and held his stare.

Then all hell broke loose.

“How dare you!” she screamed and slapped Dr. Shaw, leaving a telltale red print on his flesh. “I am the daughter of the Earl of Ainsworth. I am Lady Rockingham, peasant, and I will not be imprisoned by the likes of you.” She grasped the lapels of his waistcoat, as Anthony’s usual maladies disappeared in the face of her impressive outburst. “Hear me well, I rebuke your authority over me.”

“Lady Rockingham, control yourself.” Shaw clutched her forearms and set her back on her heels. “As you are a lady and a gentlewoman, I expect you to comport yourself appropriately.”

“My dear, it will be all right.” Stunned, Anthony caught her by the elbow and pulled her close to his side, even as she continued an incoherent rant at the top of her lungs. “My lady.” He gave her a gentle tug. “Arabella, that is enough. Let us return to our chambers, where you might recover your wits.” To Shaw, Anthony said, “Forgive her, as I believe the shock of the day’s events are too much for her delicate senses. Remember, we traveled far and were denied an opportunity to break our journey for a brief respite. A hot meal and a good night’s rest should do much to improve her spirits.”

There would be hell to pay for that, he suspected, because there was nothing delicate about his wife, and she would take umbrage at his remarks.

“Of course, Lord Rockingham. Women are naturally predisposed to histrionics, so her ladyship’s behavior is to be expected and pitied. Given her status, we will indulge her.” The doctor dipped his chin, and his imperious demeanor rankled Anthony’s last nerve, but he took no issue. His bride needed him just then, because Shaw’s reply inspired another series of spectacular insults, and Anthony found himself fighting laughter. “Perhaps, you and I can continue our discussion tomorrow, in the study, my lord.”

“I look forward to it, Dr. Shaw.” Anthony pulled Arabella into the crook of his arm. “Come, my dear. Let us retire to the comfort of our quarters, for the evening. I will ring for your bath, and then we will dine in the quiet of our sitting room.”

“I will summon the footman, posthaste, to heat the water, while you tend to her ladyship.” Shaw righted his coat and tugged the bell pull. “You may send for dinner to be served, at your leisure, because we are not barbarians, here. We only wish to help.”

“I suppose I should eat something, and I do need to wash off the road dust.” Again, to his befuddlement, she leaned into him, and he steered her toward the door and into the hall, with the two stocky attendants in tow. His countess was anything but weak, and he wondered if the unpleasant developments had well and truly shocked her into hysteria. “You are wise, as well as thoughtful, my lord.”

With care, he led her up the grand staircase, and on the landing he paused. Instinct told him there were games afoot, and he longed to inquire after her motives. Given their lack of privacy, he continued to navigate the passageways, until they arrived at the entrance to their rooms. One steward pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door, which he then set