The Runaway Lady’s Secret (Preview)

Prologue

I have to escape. 

Eliza Whitmore gulped in the cool evening air as every breath stung her lungs. Her long blonde hair flew behind her in tendrils as she hurried down the steps.

There hadn’t been time to fix her hair or even don more than a simple brown dress and cloak. 

I have to get out. 

She had no other choice. All that awaited her if she stayed was a life of sorrow and strife. 

“My Lady!” Small hands shot out and gripped her arms just as she reached the bottom of the stairs that led to the front gate of the lavish London home. 

Stifling a scream, Eliza looked up into the wide eyes of her maid as she dropped her case. “Jane, what are you doing up at this hour?” She looked up at the foreboding full moon high in the sky. 

“I heard a noise, My Lady. You weren’t in your chambers when I went to check on you.” Jane’s large brown eyes widened even further as she glanced at the suitcase on the cobbled pathway.

Eliza lowered her voice to an urgent whisper. “There isn’t any time to explain; you must go back inside at once. If anyone asks, you must say that you never saw me. Please, Jane, I can’t stay here any longer.” She glanced back over her shoulder at the still house, where not even a candle was shimmering in any of the windows. 

“But, My Lady, what of your brother’s wedding?” Jane’s voice was thin and panicked as she shifted from foot to foot. 

The words made Eliza shake her head hurriedly as she sucked in a sharp breath. “There isn’t going to be a wedding. I thought the servants would have heard by now. Henry has eloped with Sarah. He refused to marry Lady Diana Kingsley.” 

Jane’s eyes widened even further as the colour drained from her face. “Our Sarah? But that can’t be, My Lady, she was just a maid …” 

“That doesn’t matter now; what matters is that I need to leave. My father has arranged a marriage for me to try and repair some of the damage, but I cannot go through with the marriage. I … I can’t marry Lord Langley, I just can’t.” Her fingers began to tremble as she thought of the cruel man who was at least a decade older than her twenty-one years. 

A look of understanding flashed across the maid’s face as she drew her lower lip into her mouth. 

“I am incredibly grateful for your loyalty, Jane. You’ve been more than just a maid; you’ve been a trusted friend for as long as I can remember. I’m asking you now to please keep my secret, even if it’s the last time. I am going to Bath.” The words made her heart beat a little faster once she had said them out loud. 

“I’m coming with you,” Jane answered without skipping a beat. 

Eliza searched her face, feeling the pit of her stomach knot with uncertainty. She couldn’t possibly allow Jane to give up her position in London, yet she was grateful she had someone on her side. “You understand that I won’t be coming back? You will have to leave everything behind.” 

Jane lifted her chin defiantly with a look of determination in her eyes. “I am coming with you, My Lady. There is no place for me in this house if you aren’t in it.” 

 

Chapter One

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Arabella Bexley asked. She was sitting across from Eliza in the moving carriage. Her long brown hair had been pinned to the sides of her head in a style that enhanced her long features. 

Averting her gaze from the passing scenery, Eliza pushed the overly large spectacles up her nose. It amazed her how anyone could wear them and see anything at all. All she could see through the blurry frames were the outlines of objects and shapes. It was partially a blessing that they kept slipping down her nose. “We’ve been over this, Arabella. What other choice do I have?” 

Arabella took a deep breath and pulled her mouth aside as if she were rethinking the entire plan. “I have been at your house for a month already, and my parents have already come searching twice. The visit from the earl the other day was too close a call. I need this position as a chaperone. Nobody will suspect poor Mrs Wentworth, the widow, of running away.” 

Eliza placed her index finger on the thin frame over her nose and adjusted the spectacles. 

Her long blonde hair had been pinned to the back of her head in an unassuming style, while her plain brown dress had been chosen to downplay her beauty. She reasoned that the less she stood out, the better her chances of hiding. 

Arabella fidgeted with the frills on her dress as the carriage neared the outskirts of London. “I’m just concerned; what if you get caught? I know I said working for the Duke of Ashbourne would be a good idea, but what if he discovers your true identity? Perhaps it would be better if we returned to Bath. You can continue hiding in the guest chambers; it’s worked so far, even with people coming to search for you.” 

Eliza lifted her head with determination. “No, the decision has been made. I will act as a chaperone and companion to the duke’s younger sister. Jane will keep you apprised of any developments. She will be able to move between the houses without being questioned. Nobody ever stops a maid to ask where she is going. Meanwhile, you can continue  …” 

“I will continue the search for a suitable husband so that you will not have to marry the earl,” Arabella finished Eliza’s sentence with a look of pity for her cousin’s situation.

“I still don’t understand. The earl didn’t seem like a horrid man when he came looking for you. Would it really be the worst thing in the world if you married him? He even mentioned that he gladly accepted the task of finding you.” 

I’m sure he did. 

Eliza took a deep breath and drew her lips between her teeth before looking out the carriage window at the passing scenery. The thought of marrying such a cruel man sent a shiver down her spine. “You don’t understand; he isn’t always that kind and considerate. I’ve heard all the rumours about how he treats his staff and anyone he thinks isn’t worthy of common decency. A man like that won’t ever make an agreeable husband.” 

The scenery swam in front of her eyes as she recalled the time when the earl had raised his hand to a footman, making the poor man cower with fear.

Of course, the earl hadn’t been aware that anyone was watching, but Eliza had been there, watching from the hallway while the rest of the guests had been chatting and dancing. The night of her brother’s engagement had branded itself into the back of her mind like an emblem. 

There was no way that she would ever marry a man who could raise his hand to someone he employed. There was also the added feeling of disgust whenever his eyes swept over her body. It was almost as if he were appraising a mare rather than looking for a wife. 

Turning back to Arabella, Eliza sighed. “Besides his cruelty, I think he is only after our lands and fortune. Refusing to marry the earl will protect my family as well as myself.” She shivered again at the thought of his beady eyes and thin, cracked lips. 

“If you are certain that this is the right decision, then I won’t stand in your way.” Arabella leaned across the carriage and gently squeezed her cousin’s hand. “But you must remember, the duke is rumoured to be a cold and strict man. I do not think he is cruel, but he keeps his distance from anyone in the ton. You will have anonymity in his house, but it might not be easy dealing with him.” 

Her confidence faltered slightly as she thought of the man being described. “I’m not paid to be his companion; I will concern myself with his sister and stay well out of his way.” Eliza turned to look out the window as Ashbourne Hall came into view on the horizon.

The building itself sat in the middle of what seemed to be a large and sprawling estate on the outskirts of London. The tall stone buttresses seemed just as daunting and mysterious as the man rumoured to lurk behind its uninviting walls. 

Is the duke really as cold as everyone says he will be? 

A shiver of fear and anticipation ran down Eliza’s spine as the carriage neared the house that would become her home until she found a husband. Anything was better than having to marry Lord Edward Langley. 

***

He’s so handsome. 

Eliza felt her breath moving effortlessly through her lungs, creating a strange sensation in her stomach as she stared at the handsome man with raven hair and ice-blue eyes. His straight features and strong jaw spoke of the aristocracy that had undoubtedly made up his bloodline. 

His Grace, James Pembroke, the Duke of Ashbourne.

“And this is your first position as a companion and chaperone?” The duke’s deep voice echoed across the room, causing Eliza to jump as she stood before the large mahogany desk in his study. 

She hadn’t expected to be taken to the duke, yet the housekeeper had ushered her straight in and left her alone. 

His piercing blue eyes bore into hers as if he were trying to read the secrets written on her soul. 

I am Mrs Wentworth. 

She reminded herself to keep her tone even when she was addressing the duke. 

“Yes, Your Grace, as I have said, I am recently widowed and wish to spend the remainder of my years as a companion. I can assure you that your sister will be in good hands.” She placed her lace-gloved hands in front of her abdomen and intertwined her fingers, praying that her appearance and demeanour gave off the image of a governess. 

The duke sat back in his chair and cocked his head to the side, causing a section of his thick black hair to flop to the left. “The remainder of your days? An odd thing to say for someone as young as twenty-one …” He looked her up and down as if sizing her up. 

A shiver ran through her body as he ran his fingers over his cleanly shaven jaw. 

She looked him directly in the eyes, giving him subtle titbits about the character she had created. “I do not wish to marry again, Your Grace. The love my husband provided me with was enough to last me a lifetime. I dare say that it would be hard to replace.” 

If Lady Eliza Whitmore could not have the life she desired, then at least Mrs Elizabeth Wentworth would have lived a better one. 

“I see, so you are a romantic at heart?” His elbow rested on the armrest of his chair as he rubbed the tip of his thumb against his fingers. Eliza caught a glimpse of a well-defined muscle twisting beneath his cotton shirt. 

Her voice quivered slightly as he stared her down. “I am, Your Grace. I am not ashamed to say that I am an optimist and a romantic at heart. I believe in love and seeing the good in others. Life can be quite daunting in the absence of cheerfulness.” 

What is his problem? The coolness in the duke’s eyes overshadowed the initial attraction that she’d felt for the man. He kept looking at her as if she were an untrustworthy woman with questionable morals and character. Does he think of me as someone who would lead his sister astray? 

The duke quirked an eyebrow as he continued to stare at her. “As admirable as those qualities may be to young women, my concerns lay more with your conduct regarding my sister.”  His tone was almost accusatory as a muscle in his jaw clenched. 

“And what conduct may that be, Your Grace?” Eliza lifted her chin calmly, refusing to back down beneath the scrutiny of his gaze. 

He held her gaze so intently that Eliza’s nerves almost made her forget the character she was portraying. “Lady Charlotte is quite impressionable; she needs to understand that there are people out there who will not always have her best interests at heart. A young woman should choose a husband carefully rather than following her heart.” 

Her heart beat furiously as she wondered if the duke could see right through her disguise. He kept looking at her so intently that she felt he could see right through her. 

 “On that score, Your Grace, we can agree. Marriage is not something to be rushed into. The matter should be given a great deal of thought and consideration when choosing one’s match. Hence my reason for not wanting to marry again.” Her heart thudded in her chest as she thought of the earl and her narrow escape. 

She’d do everything in her power to keep Lady Charlotte from marrying a man like him. 

The duke seemed to give her words a great deal of consideration before sitting up straight. “Very well, Mrs Wentworth. I shall hire you but understand this: my sister is an impressionable young lady, and I expect her behaviour to reflect your influence.” His words held a silent threat within in his cool tone that didn’t fail to escape her notice. 

Eliza took another deep breath, maintaining her professional air. “I can assure you, Your Grace, that I intend to give Lady Charlotte my undivided attention. I may be a widow, but I was once a young lady on the brink of coming out not too long ago. There is no one better suited to chaperoning your sister than me.” 

A slight twitch in the corner of his lips could have easily been mistaken for a smile, yet the duke’s eyes remained cold as he rang a bell. 

Eliza welcomed the distraction as she averted her gaze and eased her breathing. She was by no means scared of the duke, yet he had a way of looking at her that made her acutely aware that she was lying to him. 

What is he thinking? 

The image of his icy blue eyes burned in the back of her mind even as she looked at the door. 

They didn’t have to wait very long before a beautiful young girl with raven hair and bright blue eyes appeared in the doorway. Her round face and fine features gave her the innocent appearance of a sheltered young girl. 

“You sent for me, Your Grace?” she asked sweetly, looking at her brother before smiling warmly at Eliza. 

“Yes, this is Mrs Elizabeth Wentworth. She will be your chaperone and companion for the upcoming season.” The duke placed his hands on the armrests of his chair and pushed himself up, seemingly losing interest in the matter now that his sister had arrived. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Wentworth.” Lady Charlotte Pembroke curtsied and smiled. 

Charlotte Pembroke instantly crept into Eliza’s heart. Her soft-spoken mannerisms hinted at a tender-hearted young woman who needed guidance. She seemed to lack confidence as she kept her eyes cast down, but that was something that Eliza could work with. 

Eliza swept into a deep curtsey. “The pleasure is all mine, Lady Charlotte. I am looking forward to accompanying you during this season.” Eliza felt her heart skip a nervous beat when she turned to see the duke staring at her with his piercing gaze. 

What is he thinking?

She suddenly felt a little too self-conscious in her plain brown dress and large spectacles that kept slipping down her nose. There was every chance that the duke could see through her disguise, but she hoped and prayed she’d be able to convince him as time went on. 

 

Chapter Two

There’s something about her …

James leaned against the mantle in his study, staring into the fire as he thought of the young widow he’d hired.  It hadn’t even been a full day, but he’d already begun to wonder if he hadn’t made a mistake. There was something unassumingly beautiful about her. It was almost as if the large spectacles and plain dress hid an unusually lovely woman. 

Her hazel eyes swam in his vision as he recalled the subtle flecks of gold and green. 

Beautiful. 

The thought troubled him greatly as the flames crackled behind the grate. He’d always had trouble trusting people, especially when it came to his sister. Yet something in the way Mrs Elizabeth Wentworth carried herself made him slightly curious, even if it was only for the sake of protecting his sister from anyone whose company might be harmful. 

The sounds of laughter carried down the hall, making him look up as his sister came walking into the study with Mrs Wentworth in tow.

Their faces were flushed and bright as if they had been running, while their garments were slightly soiled with a light layer of dust. Whatever they had been doing all day had left them both enthralled with one another and out of breath.

“You sent for me, James?” Charlotte smiled warmly at him.

He’d been wondering if hiring Mrs Wentworth had been a good idea, but it would be more difficult to let her go if Charlotte liked her. None of her previous governesses or companions had made her laugh and come out of her shell.

The previous governess had been a stuffy old woman who barked and ordered everyone around. He’d wanted someone who could provide her with warm, motherly guidance, yet he was still finding it hard to trust his decision. 

Clearing his throat, James straightened up and looked at his sister. “I wanted a word with Mrs Wentworth,” he said sharply and looked at the woman, whose cheeks were flushed a bright pink. 

She reached up, tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear, and something twitched in James’s chest. Clearing his throat, he looked away. 

“Shall I stay?” Charlotte asked enthusiastically. 

Pulling himself up straight, he answered curtly. “No, you had better get ready for dinner. I would like a word with Mrs Wentworth in private.” He dismissed his sister while noting the strange look on the chaperone’s face. 

Fear? 

No, she hadn’t shown an ounce of fear when he’d questioned her earlier in the day. It was her that had kept him intrigued by her story. She seemed like a woman who had weathered far more than just the passing of her husband; that fact alone had made him give her the position.

He looked her over curiously, wondering what made her seem so intriguing to him. She seemed to be a woman of multitudes who had overcome many obstacles in her past.

But what exactly were those obstacles that made her the woman he saw before him? Whatever it was, he reminded himself to be cautious around her. “Yes, James.” Charlotte curtsied before making her way from the room, but not before she exchanged a mischievous giggle with her companion. 

Mrs Wentworth quickly cleared her throat and wiped the smile from her lips, replacing it instead with one of curiosity. “I hope you won’t hold our tardiness against us, Your Grace. Lady Charlotte and I spent the day getting to know one another. She showed me around the house and even the gardens.” Her cheeks flushed a little brighter as if she were blushing. 

“That would explain the dishevelled appearance of your garments,” James grumbled under his breath while eyeing the dirty hem of her dress. 

“We may have got a tad carried away, Your Grace,” Mrs Wentworth explained apologetically, but he could hear the faintest giggle in her voice, making him uncertain how to approach the situation. 

Averting his gaze, James approached the drinks cart in the corner of the room before pouring himself a glass of brandy. “I thought it might be best to have a longer conversation. I didn’t make your position clear this morning.” He kept his back turned to her while sipping his whisky. 

“My position, Your Grace?” The woman’s voice held a note of uncertainty that made him turn around. 

“Yes, I wanted to make the expectations clear. You are to be Lady Charlotte’s companion. You will sometimes act as her chaperone, but for the most part, our aunt will accompany her to balls and all other social gatherings among the ton.” He watched her reaction to his sharp response carefully over the rim of his glass. “She ought to secure an advantageous match by the end of the Season.”

Her shoulders seemed to relax a little as her lips broke into a relieved smile. “Of course, Your Grace. I am more than happy to step in wherever needed.” 

Did she think I was about to send her away? And why did she seem relieved? Her reactions didn’t make any sense to him, yet his sister seemed to have liked her a great deal. 

The relief in her eyes piqued his interest as he swirled the dark liquid in the glass. 

He had been wondering if hiring someone as young as Mrs Wentworth had been a good idea, but he wasn’t about to let her go, not now that Charlotte had already formed an attachment. It had been a very long time since he’d heard his sister laugh from the pit of her stomach. A part of him felt guilty that he’d been so strict with her until now. 

“Was there anything else you needed to discuss, Your Grace?” She looked around the room nervously. 

“Lord Bexley’s wife didn’t say much about your past or where you came from. I know that Lady Bexley regarded you quite fondly. I would not have hired you if not for their recommendations.” He sipped from the glass before returning to the desk and taking a seat. 

“I fail to understand your question, Your Grace?” A veil fell over her face as she fidgeted with her fingers in her lap. 

Why is she so nervous? 

James sucked his lower lip into his mouth before regarding her with even more curiosity. “That is possible because I did not ask one.” He placed his glass on the desk before interlacing his fingers. 

Mrs Wentworth cocked her head slightly to the side, and the light from the flickering fire in the fireplace next to her highlighted her slender neck. 

He suddenly wondered what she would look like if she removed her spectacles and released her hair from the ridiculous bun at the back of her head. He’d never paid much attention to women’s fashion, but he could see that her clothes didn’t suit her at all. 

James quickly averted his gaze and looked at his desk when he realized he’d been staring at her for a little too long. The last thing he wanted was for Charlotte’s chaperone to think of him as being too forward. His body suddenly stiffened as he addressed her again in a cool tone. 

“If you are to spend more time with my sister, Mrs Wentworth, I would like to know where you are from. Where did you live before accepting this position?”

She seemed to take a moment to compose herself as her lips spread into a stiff smile. “I have lived in Bath for most of my life, Your Grace. And as I mentioned before, my husband passed not too long ago.” She spoke stiffly as if she were reciting the facts from memory. 

“Was he ill?” James asked the question before he could stop himself. 

“He was; it was a short illness that came on quite suddenly and took him just as swiftly. He has been gone a month.” Her eyes lacked emotion as she spoke—none of the grief he would have expected of a recently bereaved wife. He wondered vaguely whether the marriage had been closer to an arrangement of convenience rather than the love match the woman had made it out to be.  

It was entirely possible that she was a woman on the run, trying to escape the ghost of an ill-tempered husband. Painting him as chivalrous could have been her way of distancing herself from his memory. Whatever the case, it didn’t make sense to James that a woman in love would speak of her husband’s passing with such ease. 

James kept his tone cool as he looked her in the eyes. “Forgive me for being so forward, Mrs Wentworth, but my sister is my only living relative, other than our aunt. She became my responsibility when our parents died. I have to be careful whom I let into her life.” 

“Your Grace, if I may be as bold as to venture a question in return: why do you wish me to find Lady Charlotte a husband so soon? She is of age but still young, and there are a few years for her yet to find a secure match.”

 Her boldness caught him off guard, and he raised an eyebrow. “It is Charlotte’s wish to find a husband and start a family of her own. Although I wish to keep her safe, I shall not stand in her way of finding that happiness. I will, however, try to ensure her safety along the way.”

He responded just as stiffly as she had answered his questions. It wasn’t easy for him to trust anyone, especially someone as close to his sister as Mrs Wentworth. Yet he couldn’t help feeling there was so much more to her story.

“I see, Your Grace. Is Your Grace perhaps concerned that I will not be a positive influence on her decision?” Mrs Wentworth’s voice took on a slightly frosty note as she locked eyes with him. 

“As anyone would be when inviting a stranger into their home,” he responded bluntly. 

A moment of silence passed between them where James held her gaze. 

“I shall do my best to adhere to your wishes, Your Grace, while still attempting to be a companion for Lady Charlotte. She is quite a vibrant young lady with a rich imagination. I’ve grown rather fond of her in the past few hours. You may rest assured that I will protect her as if she were my own sister.” Her determined and confident response flashed across her eyes, hinting at a more defiant personality than she’d been portraying. 

Something about her words stuck a chord as James’s chest suddenly tightened. “Excellent. Now, regarding other matters. There are rules here at Ashbourne Hall, and I expect you to follow them.” 

Mrs Wentworth’s eyebrows lifted slightly, almost as though she was surprised. “Rules, Your Grace?”  

He regarded her stiffly as he clenched his jaw. “Yes, I do not want to see Lady Charlotte flitting about the halls again. She has just come out to Society, and I cannot have her running wild. You are to occupy her time with all the accomplishments and advice that will benefit a young lady searching for a suitable match.” 

She refused to look away. In all his years of being the duke, he’d never encountered anyone else who could endure his gaze so long. 

“Of course, Your Grace. Lady Charlotte and I are to remain confined to our chambers and perhaps the parlour and drawing room while we practice the pianoforte and the art of keeping a man’s attention.” Mrs Wentworth’s voice was demure, but he thought he caught a sparkle of mischief in those hazel eyes. 

Is she teasing me? 

He eyed her suspiciously as she continued to smile. Did she not take him seriously or was she overly optimistic? 

“I beg your pardon, Your Grace …”

He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Go on?” 

“I promised Lady Charlotte I would discuss her accomplishments and how to better them.” She smiled at him, making his heart race as she waited to be dismissed. 

Feeling his patience reach an end, James stood and made his way around the desk, resting with his hip on the side as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Your position in this house is not a permanent one, Mrs Wentworth. I am not sure what Lady Bexley has told you, but I am a very private person. I prefer the matters of this house to remain behind closed doors.” 

“As it should be, Your Grace. I despise gossip, and I won’t be wandering far from the house, even on my days off.” She matched his tone as her eyes shone confidently. 

A cat. 

It suddenly struck him how beautiful her eyes actually were behind those thick glasses. They reminded him of a cat that his mother had once owned. Strong, playful, and independent. 

“Very well, I do not expect you to live the life of a recluse, but if you wish to keep to yourself, then I shan’t object to that,” he said coolly while questioning her response. 

Had her husband’s passing affected her so badly that she could hardly stand the thought of venturing beyond the walls of Ashbourne Hall? 

Her lips broke into a smile. “Thank you, Your Grace.” 

He gave a curt nod. “Of course. You are dismissed.”

She rose to her feet with another smile and turned to walk away when her foot suddenly hooked on the edge of the rug, making her stumble forward and turn as he lunged to catch her. 

She gripped his upper arms tightly, clinging on as he encircled her waist, keeping her from falling any further. 

James froze. The sweet scent of roses filled his senses as she hung in his arms, weighing hardly enough to bear down on his arms.

Those wide hazel eyes were staring up at him, wide, shocked. “Your Grace?” she managed, sounding breathless. 

“Are you always this clumsy or are you attempting to present yourself as a helpless maiden?” he growled in a low voice as his eyes dipped to her parted lips. 

At once, her mouth pressed into a thin line, and she drew herself up sharply out of his grasp. “I can assure you, Your Grace, that I am neither clumsy nor a damsel in distress. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Her cool, detached tone brought him sharply back to himself, reminding him who she was. 

She was his sister’s companion and a stranger in his house. 

And clearly, she’d been offended by his words. He stepped back and cleared his throat. “I did not mean to offend you, Mrs Wentworth, but you must be more careful in the future.” 

Her eyes darkened. “Trust me, Your Grace, I shall be as cautious as humanly possible,” she remarked with a slight note of resentment before hurrying from the room. The heat from her body still lingered in his arms as he looked down at his hands. Her skin had been so soft to the touch. 

You can trust me, Your Grace …

Her words lingered in her mind, along with the scent of her perfume. And that was concerning.

It had been years since he’d trusted anyone, and he wasn’t about to start now. He made a mental note to keep his distance from the widowed young chaperone and her optimistic character, which clashed so openly with his perspective and attitude.