Page 2 of Her Rogue of a Duke
“Your Grace!” he exclaimed, hurrying across the room. “You are alive!”
Though well into his fifties, Mr. Warren maintained a degree of youth and vigor that would be enviable to men half his age. He had been working for the Kingman family for as long as Joshua could recall, a good, loyal man who took the care of the household and Elmcroft Duchy very seriously. His black-trim livery coat and white high-collared shirt were perfectly pressed, complementing his white tucked-back hair, and a representationof a man who took great pride in his appearance. But his exaggerations and matter-of-fact statements were a touch intolerable at times.
“Of course I’m alive,” Joshua grumbled, finally lowering his hands. The sharp tinge of alcohol on his nightstand reached his nostrils, and it was then he realized how desperately his body was craving a drink. “How long have I been unconscious, Warren?”
“Approximately… seven hours by my speculations, Your Grace,” Warren answered, bending over to inspect the bandage wrapped around Joshua’s head. “You gave us quite a fright, I must confess.”
“How did I get back here?”
“Lord Townsend was passing by in his carriage and found you lying on the side of the road,” Warren explained. “He and his driver picked you up and brought you home.”
Townsend. Blast my pride.
But it was not the time to be scoffing at his blessings.
“And the woman?” Joshua asked.
Warren stopped inspecting Joshua’s bandage and gazed down at him with a frown.
“Woman? What woman, Your Grace?”
Joshua frowned. “The woman who pulled me from the carriage before it fell over the cliff. She’s the reason I’m still alive.”
Furrowing his brow, Warren shook his head. “I apologize, Your Grace. A woman was not mentioned. When Lord Townsend came upon you, you were entirely alone.”
Joshua did not understand. He was convinced the woman had been real.
“You are certain?” he pressed. “There was no one else with me?”
“Absolutely not. Though, if I may speak out of turn, you did suffer a serious injury to your head, Your Grace. Perhaps you imagined someone who was not there. Nonetheless, if it eases your concerns, I can send a note to Lord Townsend to confirm—”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” he interrupted with a wave of the hand.
Joshua was positive there had been a woman, but despite his certainty, he was well aware that his head wound and intoxication might make his claim a little dubious to anyone who was not present.
And as a Duke, he did not want to give anyone a reason to think him addle-minded, nor fuel any speculations about his mentalstate. Convinced yet cautious, he decided not to pursue the matter with Warren any further.
His rescuer had disappeared before anyone could discover her with him for some reason. He could only imagine why that was. Had Lord Townsend’s carriage startled her? Surely she would not have left Joshua alone for long if she had gone through so much trouble to rescue him in the first place.
Curious. It was all so curious.
“Ah, lay back, Your Grace,” Warren coaxed, pulling Joshua from his musings. “You must rest. Sir Barrows should be returning on the hour to check on you, and forgive my frankness but he will have my head if I am the reason your recovery is delayed.”
Releasing a long breath, Joshua obeyed and sank back into his pillows. Staring up at the canvas above his bed, he let his mind wander back to his mysterious blonde angel. Who in the world could she possibly be?
In that moment, Joshua resolved to find her. He owed her his life, and it was a debt that Joshua would make sure to pay… no matter how many years it may take.
CHAPTER TWO
5 Years Later
If Jane Austen penned my life, Mr. Darcy would undoubtedly be galloping around the corner to sweep me off my feet at any moment. Alas, I must be content with merely reading about the romances of others while I pursue a more practical path. For the sake of Papa.
Agentle breeze brushed her cheeks, bearing the slight fresh dew of the morning, but she hardly noticed. Lady Francesca Nightingale, daughter of the Baron of Oakvale, was entirely engrossed in her book as she made her way along the walking path she ventured down every morning.
Oh, how she doted on her morning walks. The countryside was so still and quiet as the day had not quite started, yet lively and vibrant with the day’s expectations, and she could imagine she was the only person in the whole world. It was during these tranquil moments that she indulged in her reading. Truthfully, any spare moment found her absorbed in her books. She wouldgrow lost in her stories, her imagination running wild as she fantasized about the faraway lands and exciting adventures described. There was very little chance she could ever see the exotic lands she read about for herself, so she devoured every tome she could find to learn more about the wider world.
Yet, beneath it all, Francesca found solace in her station in life. In many ways, she was very blessed. Her father adored her and gave her everything he could despite his low status among the peerage and lack of wealth. When she was a girl, her father had more means by which to provide a comfortable life for the both of them, but greed and treachery had stolen that blessing. Thankfully, they were able to remain in their quaint little manor nestled in the countryside, though the means to keep it as it once was had faded. Francesca chose not to dwell on the past losses but instead focused her energy on supporting her father, striving together to lift themselves from the brink of poverty they now faced.