“It was. And where the clutch opium had on me was finally broken. It was also where our dear mother died a year ago. I believe you have discovered as much,” Arthur said, “When I was released, I wanted to help them to continue helping others like me. I put all of my inheritance into it, giving away every penny I owned. It was all tainted anyway. I couldn’t keep anything that came from our father.”
“What of our mother?” Marcus asked quietly.
“Father and I drove her mad,” Arthur replied.
A silence fell into the room with the force of a ship’s anchor. Arthur watched Marcus keenly, eyes bright from beneath his shock of white hair. Then he spoke.
“When you were sent into exile, she invested her heart and soul in me. And she gave me as happy a youth as I could wish for, allowing for the cruelty of our father. But, by that time he absented himself from the house for much of the time anyway, preferring to whore or gamble in London. However, as I grew into a young man, I could not come to terms with the life I had lived as a child. It ate away at me like a canker. First came strong drink, then came the poppy. Having lost both of her sons, our mother then lost her mind. When I came out of the sanitorium at Streatham, I realized how bad she had gotten in my absence. I had her incarcerated for her own protection, Marcus. Not as an act of cruelty or to wash my hands of her. I visited her there as often as I could and they worked the same miracle on her as they did on me. But she had no desire to return to Valebridge any more than I did. So, she stayed at Streatham, caring for others. Until the day she died.”
Arthur rose and knelt beside his brother, whose head was bowed. He put his arms about Marcus, just as Selina had done.
“I thought that I had abandoned her. When I found out where she had died, I thought that I should have come for her earlier, made her leave him,” Marcus said brokenly.
“She died doing what she loved. She was happy. She had a man to take care of her. She couldn’t marry him but all who knew him thought of him as her husband. No one in Streatham thought of her as a Duchess. I’m not even sure they knew. Had you ridden in on your white charger, she’d have told you to ride out again and done it in the slang of the Londoner,” Arthur chuckled.
Selina saw the change in Marcus then. The last burden lifting from his shoulders. He had carried that guilt for a long time and it had become much harder to bear when he had learned of the asylum. But now, it was gone.
CHAPTER39
Selina felt that she had wandered into a fairy tale. Her very own fairy tale in which she was the heroine. The receiving hall of Carlton House was, by far, the grandest and most palatial room she had ever stood in. Its walls were molded in gold and paneled in amber. Paintings of obvious antiquity, presumably by masters, hung on the walls, their frames dripping with gold. Chandeliers cast glittering light from above that sparkled from precious stones and yet more gold. She wore a dress of white and bronze, her hair worked atop her head to highlight her graceful neck. At least that is what the modiste that Marcus had taken her to in Savile Row had told her. A necklace of gold and diamond decorated her chest, purchased the day before in Oxford Street as a wedding present from Marcus. It felt as heavy as armor. She was not used to wearing such things.
More jewels were artfully worked into her hair where they sparkled and twinkled discreetly.
“I do not know how long it will take me to remove all of this metalwork this evening,” she whispered to Marcus as they were announced to the assembled throng.
“Leave it on then. Just remove the dress,” Marcus whispered back.
Selina thought that her response of a slow glance to her husband and a discreet smile was admirably reserved given the cheekiness of the comment. She was glad that the presence of so many people produced such warmth in the room, so that even in a cavern such as this, her flush would go unnoticed. Marcus wore a suit of dark blues and grays, understated and elegant. She felt jealous that he could attend the Prince Regent looking handsome and dignified, and not festooned like a Christmas tree.
But I am a Duchess now and must look the part. At least I must look the part as the Regent expects to see it.
“This is the final test. We have satisfied the law, now we must satisfy the Court,” Selina whispered.
“You are already the jewel of this court. Look around you. I see many women with more jewels than you but none that carry them as though they were born to it. Trust me when I say that you look as though you belong here.”
“I don’t feel as though I do.”
They were making their way slowly into the room, acknowledging eye contact with smiles and nods, waiting for the highest ranked among the Regent’s assembled guests to approach and greet them. That is how it would happen, according to the advice that Marcus had sought upon their arrival in London. An expert in the etiquette of the Regent’s Court had been found to provide coaching to Marcus and Selina on what to expect. After all, despite his rank, Marcus had little experience of the upper echelons of English society. Selina had even less. But it was vitally important to impress the Regent with their demeanor and appearance, for him to believe that Marcus was entitled to the rank he claimed. Particularly as the rival claimant to Valebridge was an equerry to the Regent, a close servant and fully versed in the ways of dealing with royalty.
The first to come forward was the Duke of Westerleigh, an imposing man with an equally imposing wife, both of whom regarded the room from a great height. Selina found herself making small talk with the duchess while Marcus smiled charmingly and talked to the duke in matters of ships and trade. Next came a Scotsman, the Duke of Argyll. He was younger than Westerleigh and accompanied by a beautiful young woman whom he introduced as his fiancée. He seemed to know the Lake District well and talked effusively about Cumbria and the borderlands between England and Scotland. By the time they left him, they had been invited to his home in Scotland to shoot and fish before the summer waned. Selina looked at Marcus who gave her a wink.
“Because I have chosen to isolate myself does not mean that I cannot mix with the gentry when I choose. How am I doing, do you think?” he asked.
“Like a man born to it,” Selina replied.
“Let us hope so,” Marcus said.
Presently, they were approached by an equerry in full ceremonial dress uniform and told that the Regent desired an audience with them before dinner. They followed the man through more grand rooms of immense wealth and into a drawing room. It was plushly furnished in red and gold and carpeted in purple and silver. The effect was gaudy but undeniably expensive. The equerry briefed them on how to enter the room, how to address the Regent, and how to behave before leading them into the room. The Regent sat in an armchair that was practically a throne, beneath an enormous portrait of himself, surrounded by horses and hunting dogs and dressed in the uniform of an Army General. He had dark hair that fell untidily about his face. He wore a dress uniform but one that was adorned with gold piping, braid, and a chestful of ribbons. His pose was indolent and his face sullen.
To either side stood equerries and, to Selina’s horror, her father. Maximilien Voss stared at her with a gloating expression. They were presented to the Regent and introduced as the Duke and Duchess of Valebridge. The Regent waved a hand.
“Now then, let us dispense with that from the start. I have read the report of Captain Hamilton of Bow Street and find it unacceptable. I do not believe that you are the Duke of Valebridge or that you have any claim to that title. Captain Drummond here has made his case for claim to that title via his mother, who was niece to…what was it, Clive?”
“Niece to Jeffrey Roy, the previous Duke, your royal highness.”
“Indeed. Now, I have brought you here to answer your deception which has included this innocent young lady,” the Regent said with a stern expression.
Selina felt as though the floor had been pulled from beneath her. Her father was smiling now, looking confident in his victory. Selina looked to Marcus, desperate and fearful. But he was listening with an expression of polite amusement on his face.
