A forgetful governess for the duke (Regency Romance) (Regency Tales Book 16) Read online

  Table of Content

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  BONUS CHAPTER 1:THE CAPTAIN’S REDEMPTION (ALSO PART OF A SIX STORY BOX SET)

  BONUS CHAPTER 2:THE BUESTOCKING & THE VISCOUNT (also part of 15 story box set)

  KEEP IN TOUCH!

  Copyright © Regina Darcy 2017

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher and writer except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a contemporary work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

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  ONE

  1815, Philadelphia

  American Colonies

  “Whatever are you talking about, Papa?” Miss Amelia Carrington asked, crossly.

  Her father, Lord Armitage scowled. “Perhaps if you listened, Amelia, you might realise what it is I am saying. In short, you are to be wed. It is all arranged.”

  Amelia stared at her father, wondering what on earth had possessed him to arrange such a thing without so much as consulting her.

  She frowned in consternation. “Dearest Papa, I have no wish to marry.”

  “And yet you will,” Lord Armitage replied, cheerfully. “After all, you cannot simply stay here!”

  “Why not?” Amelia asked, as horror slowly began to fill her chest. “I like it here, with you.”

  The lie fell smoothly from her lips, but her father was not easily fooled. After all, he was the one to whom she had spent years complaining over how little there was to do where they lived. She had told him on more than one occasion that she was quite bored, and now, it seemed, those words were coming back to haunt her.

  Her father guffawed, letting her know at once that he didn’t believe her.

  “It’s true!” she exclaimed, in a desperate attempt to convince him of his error. “Furthermore, I cannot bear to be parted from you, Papa.”

  Lord Armitage’s face softened then, and he gestured her to a chair. “Sit down, my dear, and let me explain exactly what is happening.”

  Amelia did as he asked, as a sense of foreboding enveloped her. It did not look as though she were about to escape whatever it was her father had planned. Her father was using the tone of voice he only reserved for the utmost serious conversations.

  “A very dear friend of mine has a nephew who is in need of a wife,” her father explained, sitting down opposite her. “I owe this gentleman a great debt of honour. My very life actually.”

  “Your life?” Amelia repeated, her eyes widening like saucers.

  “Indeed,” her father replied. “When I first came to the colonies, he travelled on the same ship as me. The sea was rough, and, without warning, a wave crashed onto the boat and dragged me over the side.” He shook his head, as a distant expression came over his face. “Lord Gerald Harvey was the one who dived in to save me, risking his own life. It is a debt I have never been able to repay. Until now.” Looking up at her, he quirked an eyebrow. “Of course, giving my daughter’s hand in marriage to a Duke isn’t much of a repayment, given how much you’ll be receiving in return, but when I was asked, I simply could not refuse.”

  Feeling light-headed by the turn of events, Amelia asked her father for a drink and quickly gulped down the cool water he gave her. Putting the glass down on the side table, she swallowed once more and tried to level on him her most severe look. “Do you mean to tell me that you have promised my hand in marriage to an Englishman I have never even met?”

  Unfortunately for Amelia, her father was not quelled by her unyielding gaze. “Precisely!” he grinned, as though she should be more than delighted. “The Duke of Lenister, no less!”

  “The Duke of Lenister!” Amelia screeched. “Papa, you cannot be serious!” Even here in the colonies, the Duke’s reputation was well known. Rumours and whispers about his various dalliances, as well as his penchant for gambling, had made their way from England all the way across the sea and into Amelia’s ears. She could not believe that her father would give her hand to such a self-indulgent man!

  Her father waved away her concerns. “That reputation you speak of is simply false. People expect a Duke to behave in a certain way when he is yet unmarried, and that is simply all there is to it. It is rumour, and nothing more. You must not believe a word of it, Amelia. Lord Harvey would not have asked for your hand unless he were quite sure of his nephew’s good reputation.”

  Amelia began to feel nauseous. “Has it occurred to you Papa, that he might wish for me to marry the Duke precisely so that his reputation is restored? Or so they might have access to my inheritance?”

  “Of course that is not the case!” her father exclaimed. “He is a Duke! Even if he were a rogue, the ton would not care, given his title. There would be no reason to attempt to restore his reputation through marriage. You are quite wrong in this regard, Amelia. And when it comes to wealth, the Duke is wealthy enough, without your inheritance.”

  Tears clung to her lashes as Amelia began to realise that her father was quite serious. There would be no escape from this.

  “Then I am to leave for England?” she stammered in a choked voice.

  “First thing tomorrow,” Lord Armitage replied.

  “What?”

  “Yes, I know it is very sudden. But I know you better than you know yourself my darling Amelia. Any more notice, and you will have concocted a plan to drive me to my wits end over this decision.”

  Lord Armitage walked over and placed a kiss on top of his daughter’s shinny curls.

  “I expect you will need to go and pack, my dear. The Duke will be expecting you! All the arrangements have been made. You will be quite safe darling, I promise.”

  Bursting into sobs, Amelia buried her face in her hands as her entire body shook. The shock of what her father had decreed threw her into turmoil, as she rebelled against the unfairness of it all.

  She wished she had the freedom to do as she pleased, to marry whom she pleased, but it was not to be. Her father had decided for her, and she was not able to refuse. The thought of having to board ship and to leave the place she called home was terrifying. Anxiety washed over her. She didn’t want to leave. As much as she found this place dull and slow, she would prefer staying in Philadelphia to living in England, a place she had only heard about from her father.

  Amelia ached for her mother, who, had she still been living, would no doubt have told her father exactly what a ridiculous arrangement this was. She would have stood by Amelia’s side and refused to allow her to leave. If only she had not died so suddenly of a frightful fever, all those years ago, perhaps her Papa would not be sending her away. Her Mama had believed in love matches, like the one between her and Papa. In short, she would have saved Amelia from this dreadful unknown fate.

  “There, there,” her father murmured, getting up to pat her shoulder awkwardly. “I know it is quite difficult to imagine, Amelia, but you will be more than happy with the Duke. Yes, you might require some time to adjust, but life with him will be vastly more exciting than anything you could have here!”

  “I don’t want to marry a stranger, Papa,” Amelia begged through her sobs. “Please, won’t you change your mind?” She looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes as she desperately hoped he would allow her to stay – but it was to no avail.

  Lord Armitage shook his head slowly. “No, I’m afraid not, Amelia. As I said, it has all been arranged, and you are expected. You will be a duchess, my dear! Isn’t that worth a cheerful disposition? There are many young ladies who would long to be in your situation.” Bending down, he took her hand and looked into her eyes.

  “Amelia, there is nothing here for you. No prospects, other than living with your aging father until he passes away.” He gave her a sad smile. “Is that truly the life you want? Can you not see that I have done this for your own good?”

  Amelia didn’t know what to say. A small part of her understood that her father had agreed to the arrangement out of love, but that still didn’t detract from the despair and upset she felt. Closing her eyes, she took a steadying breath, aware that her tears were having no effect on her father and turning her into a complete watering pot.

  “There’s my girl,” her father murmured, pressing a quick kiss on her cheek. “Now, why don’t you run along and pack? I’ll make sure the maid is sent to assist you. Don’t worry about packing too much, though, for you are to have a trousseau once you arrive. You can’t get married without such a thing, or so I am told.” He gave her a wide smile and one more pat on the shoulder before leaving the room.

  Amelia tried her best not to dissolve into tears once more, taking long breaths in an attempt to calm her frayed nerves. She would be departing for England come the morning. She was hardly able to take it in. This would be her last night under her father’s roof, the la
st time she would rise and enjoy her breakfast in the early morning colonial sun. From tomorrow on, everything would be different.

  What would the Duke truly be like? If what her father said was true, then she could tell very little about him, but her heart told her that there was no rumour without some kind of truth behind it. Men of high station and power, by default, had very little regard for morals. More than likely, the Duke of Lenister was everything she had heard, if not worse. Amelia buried her face in her hands, wanting to scream aloud in frustration, but instead she contented herself with a few angry stamps of her feet.

  Then, without any more delay, she rose, smoothed down her gown, lifted her chin and made her way to her bedchamber. There was much she had to attend to. She had no intention of meeting her fate dressed as a pauper.

  TWO

  “Papa,” Amelia whispered, as her father embraced her for the last time. “Please, you can still change your mind.” The burst of courage and determination she had experienced the night before was gone with the wind.

  Her father drew back and gave her a sympathetic smile.

  “I can see you are afraid, Amelia, but you need not be. Mr and Mrs Winter will act as your chaperons during your trip and Lord Harvey’s carriage will be at the docks to collect you. Do promise that you will write to me the very moment you arrive. I must know you are safe.”

  “Papa,” Amelia pleaded, but he simply shook his head.

  “I shall miss you very much, my darling daughter,” he replied, his smile wavering. “Goodbye, Amelia.” Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he dropped her hands and made his way from the ship.

  Amelia wanted to run after him, to follow him down the gangplank and back onto the safety of the land, but she knew she could not. Her heart began to thud with pain and sorrow as she watched the crew pull away the connection between the land and the ship, meaning that they were now ready to leave. Her father raised a hand to her, and Amelia managed to wave back, keeping a smile on her face until he grew too distant for her to make out his features. Her smile cracked as tears began to cling to her lashes.

  Rushing past Mr and Mrs Winter, straight down to her cabin, Amelia threw herself on the bunk and struggled not to sob. Her emotions were everywhere, crashing over one another like the waves of the sea.

  Angry over her father’s decision to marry her off without her consent, Amelia curled up into a ball and stared at the cabin wall. The image of her father waving to her on the shore was burned into her memory and was breaking her heart into pieces. She did not know whether she would ever see him again, and the agony of their separation sliced through her.

  She cried over the uncertainty of her future, and over the loss of the only home she’d ever known. Time crawled to a stop, until Amelia lay quietly, completely devoid of emotion. There were no more tears to be shed. Instead of pain and despair, she felt empty.

  Days passed. Amelia discovered that she simply did not have sea legs, and was forced to spend most of her time in her bunk, lying on her bed with a cool compress pressed to her forehead. Mrs Winter made a point to drop by every day to make sure she had enough sustenance. Amelia could barely eat anything, although she managed to drink just enough to keep her thirst at bay. The hours and minutes and days all merged into one until all she could think of was standing on dry land again.

  Seven days into their journey, Amelia woke to shouting and screaming from across the ship. Despite her rolling stomach, she forced herself to her feet and slowly climbed the stairs. The wind whipped at her hair, as the boat rocked furiously. Something was happening – and she could tell from the crew’s faces that it was not good.

  “What’s happening?” she shouted, clinging to the rail for dear life.

  “Get back below stairs!” one of the crew yelled, the wind carrying his voice away. “Go, now. It’s not safe!”

  Amelia opened her mouth to say that she just wanted to find out what all the ruckus was about, when a huge wave broke over the side of the ship. She gasped as the freezing water drenched her from head to foot, realising too late that she should have done exactly what the crewman had ordered.

  Turning to retreat below deck, she did not see a second wave – even larger than the first – tear over the side of the boat. The boat tipped to one side, and the shouts and screams of the crew doubled as the ship threatened to keel over completely. Amelia struggled to hold onto the rail, as more water rushed over her. All of her breath was sucked from her body as the chilly water permeated her clothes, making her shiver with cold. Her hands began to slip, numbness loosening her grip, and with a scream, Amelia fell towards the side of the ship.

  Hitting her head hard, she struggled to remain conscious. She was still on the boat, but she couldn’t seem to move her arms. She was so cold.

  Another wave crashed across the boat, catching her up in its icy grip. It pulled her from the boat and down into the depths, before letting her go.

  I’m going to die. She hadn’t been able to scream, since the cold had pulled her breath from her lungs, and she wasn’t even sure that any of the crew realised she was gone.

  Amelia battled against the waves, trying her best to swim towards the boat, but it was a struggle just to keep her head above water. Her clothes were like heavy weights, pulling her back down as though they wanted her to follow them into the depths.

  The boat slowly began to move farther and farther away, leaving her alone in the cold water. A heavy realisation crashed over her. She was going to drown out here in the sea, never to see the shores of England. Her father would receive the news that he had been left completely alone in this world.

  Amelia screamed, refusing to give in to despair. There was no answering response, but she tried again, desperate for someone to hear her. Please God, she prayed silently. Don’t let me drown. Please help me!

  As if God had heard her prayer, something heavy slammed into the back of Amelia’s head. It was the second hard knock she had sustained, and, whether it was from the cold or from the blow to her head, she began to feel distinctly weak.

  The object was what appeared to be a large wooden crate - although she couldn’t very well see it in the darkness - she attempted to grab on to the ropes that were wrapped around it. It took her three attempts before she managed to get herself almost completely out of the water. The wind whipped through her wet clothes, making her shiver.

  I have to secure myself, she thought to herself. Gritting her teeth, she pushed the ropes over her arms, so that, should she faint, she would not fall from the crate and drown. Her legs, which were still in the water, began to kick feebly. Where she was going, she had very little idea, but she simply followed the direction in which she thought the boat had gone. At least if I drown, it will not have been as though I simply gave up, Amelia thought as she tried to keep kicking through the water, despite the cold and her ever-growing tiredness. They will see that I attempted to find the shore.

  Amelia did not know how long she had kicked through the water, her desperation increasing with every second that passed. She had no idea where she was, or where she was going, and tiredness was seeping through her limbs. She was growing numb, and could no longer feel her fingers and toes. With one last kick, she let her head rest on her arms. There was nothing left in her. She could no longer fight.

  A sudden crash had her screaming as her crate lurched to one side. Her body flew back into the water, but her hands were trapped by the ropes. Coughing and spluttering, Amelia attempted to right herself – only to realise that her feet were now touching solid bottom. She had hit shore!

  “Is someone there?” called a voice.

  Amelia tried to shout back, but her voice was too hoarse from screaming. Trying to pull her arms out of the ropes, she struggled to stay upright, her legs barely able to support her in the shallow water.

  “Hello?”

  “Help me!” she whispered, desperate for whoever it was to simply come looking for her. Her feet slipped, and one arm was pulled from the ropes with the force of her fall. All but her other trapped arm went under the water, the coldness enveloping her once more.