Chapter One
23 years later…
England, Derbyshire.
“Ten years ago, the Duke and Duchess of Wulverton tragically lost their son, little Lord James, and their little Lady Felicity at sea. London has been buzzed with the news that two persons matching the description of Lord James and Lady Felicity have been found by an archeological team in a jungle near the border of the Congo. It is reported they are no longer recognized as humans but are feral after years spent amongst all manner of creatures with no human interactions!”
The Daily Scandal, 18 April 1884
Jules Southby lowered the newssheet with an inelegant snort befitting something an annoyed gentleman might have made. That was the third account she read of a most extraordinary discovery, and once again, the facts were obscured, the news stated outlandishly. Reaching for another newssheet, she found the section that spoke of the gossip that had all of society abuzz and reportedly even the queen out of sorts.
“Good news at last! The duke has been found! After missing from England and his family for more than ten years, credible reports have been submitted that missing Lord James, the new Duke of Wulverton, has been found deep across the Great Norton Sounds of the Bering Sea. Reports suggested he was found in a cave, dressed as a beast and barely recognizable as a human. Many in society, especially among the medical and scientific community, recall the incredible discovery of feral children in the Norwegian wilds and their sad demise, never imagining such a disaster could ever befall one of our most distinguished families.”
The Morning Chronicle, 18 April 1884
Jules sighed. The stories grew more fantastical with each printed report. Even yesterday, while traveling from Manchester to town, the passengers on the train had been buzzing with news of the lost duke and the whispers of his feral insanity.
“I have read all the papers and the scandal sheets, and they each have something different to say about this duke and his family.Ifit is the Duke of Wulverton who has been found. They should be ashamed for pandering to the masses and not getting the correct and truthful story.”
Jules’s mother, Mrs. Miranda Southby, who had been laboriously eavesdropping on her husband’s conversation, straightened and patted her prettily coiffed strawberry blond hair.
“You did not lose a feather while bent to that keyhole,” Jules said, grinning. “Mama, your actions are insupportable. Father discusses a private matter. It is not correct in any regard that you are intruding upon it.”
“I cannot credit that your unruly inquisitiveness has been tamed during your time abroad,” her mother said with a touch of acerbity, flushing to her hair roots. “I am dreadfully curious as to who has called so secretly upon your father. The lady wears a veil, and her carriage crest is covered with a black cloth. Are you not at all wondering what is happening?”
Jules glanced at the varied newssheets and scandal rags scattered about on the rococo table. It was indeed a simple deduction as to who might have called upon her father, a notable doctor of the mind in their society. “I suspect it might be the duchess.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”
“A duchess, Mama,” Jules repeated patiently.
“Aduchessin my home, and I am not aware of it? What duchess?”
Jules held up one of the papers. “Her Grace, the Duchess of Wulverton. I might be mistaken, but I strongly suspect it is the duchess meeting with father if there is any veracity to these numerous reports about town.”
“Upon my word, you cannot be serious!”
Jules wrinkled her nose. “I am.”
Though she wanted to believe it, the reportings were all too…imaginative and sounded like a tale from a storybook. The duke and perhaps his sister being lost at sea when their parents’ ship sunk over ten years ago were alive? Or even that they had instead been lost in the great ice-capped mountains of Canada, how were they alive?How?Her curiosity stirred as the impact it would have on their minds and personalities would be far-reaching.
Were they indeed feral? Could they be successfully socialized back within society? How old had they truly been when they were lost?
“Are you familiar with this, Mama?”
Her mother looked ready to faint. “I have some knowledge of it, but I have never paid any keen attention to the yearly reminder of the lost duke by the newssheets. Every year on the anniversary of the tragedy, the London papers run a piece offering the reward for any news of the young duke. Even the local paper here in Derbyshire writes something around the anniversary. Quickly summon Helga. Tea and the best pastries need to be immediately prepared.”
“Mama,” Jules said softly, pushing off the desk. “I believe we should wait for father’s meeting to conclude. I daresay we should not intrude with offers of tea and cakes.”
“Pish!” Her mother whirled around to bend and peek through the keyhole once more. “It would be an incredible boost for this family if it is known the duchess was here at our humble manor. Your uncle would be most appreciative.”
Jules said nothing to that because her uncle, Albert Southby, Viscount Ramsey, was indeed most concerned about his family’s standing and connections within thehaut ton.
“Uncle would be appreciative indeed,” she murmured drily.
Her mother cast a baleful glare over her shoulders. “We’ve never had such an important guest call on us before. Are you not at all curious, my dear?”
“I am, but this is not a social call, Mama.” Jules folded her arms across her perfectly bound chest and rested her slim hip on the large oak desk. “I cannot see how peering through that tiny keyhole is a good thing.”
