The Duke's Daughter -Wattys2014 Collector's Dream Award Winner-

Chapter Eighty Two

The cell containing the Lady's crew was hard and sound. Not one cemented stone would give an inch, nor would the bars give either. Derek and his crew knew this as fact for they had tested each and every one of them. For one week they had sat in this cell awaiting the King's decision. The King had called an audience with each of the crewman, separately, the morning after their incarceration.

Derek and Alejandro had sat and waited through each interview, encouraging each man to simply tell the truth; reminding them discrepancies in their stories would not fall in their favor.

Each man had gone and then been returned; a shrug of their shoulders their only response for their captain and the first mate when they returned. Then, it had finally come to Alejandro's turn.

Alejandro had been taken from the cell, the King had interrogated him, holding him a thrice times longer than any other crewman had been held. And when the King's man had finally approached the cell again, he had been alone.

"Trent, the King will see you now." The King's man had spoken with eyes falling anywhere but on the men locked in the cell.

*****

Amelia Medeiros sat in her parlor drinking tea. She was sifting through the cards and invitations that had been arriving over the last few days. Word had spread that her son was incarcerated in the Tower. Every gossip residing in town for the season wanted to know the story, and where better to hear it than his own mother? Well, they would not be getting it from her.

Other than arriving at the King's anteroom daily, waiting the hours away until they would be seen by the Monarch, she went nowhere else. She did not want to come upon her friends and acquaintances and have to explain that her son's new wife had betrayed him already.

Sifting the cards and invitations into one large stack she deposited them in the waste bin, just as her butler entered the room to announce a visitor.

"Her grace, the Duchess of Marlborough is asking to be announced. She would like to know if you are receiving." Crayson was more than prepared to turn the visitor away, as the marchionesse had not been receiving anyone the last few days.

Amelia's head raised quickly, her eyes narrowed, her mouth set itself into a straight line. Whatever did that wretched woman want? They had sat across the anteroom from each other for days, hoping to see the King, and had not spoken to each other once since their initial meeting. Curiosity won out over bitterness, and Amelia nodded sharply.

"Send her in, if you would, Crayson."

Amelia straightened her hair and rubbed her hands down the front and back of her gown to smooth out any wrinkles as she stood and prepared to meet the enemy. At least she would be doing so in her own home, where she could have Kathleen evicted if she felt the need.

*****

Arianna sat alone in the rose garden behind her family's home and let her frustration out in the form of free falling tears, feeling utterly horrible that her husband and his crew were still incarcerated. Over the last week Arianna had done everything she could think to do, short of making an attempt to march into the King's chambers and demand an audience of him then and there. Day after miserable day she had waited none too patiently in the King's anteroom, her fervent hope being that the King's man would simply call her name. Arianna had positioned herself often to see through the opening of the large door, managing to make eye contact with the monarch on two separate occasions, as others were permitted inside to see the King over much more trivial issues than her own. The King's dark, hawkish eyes had been infuriatingly mocking the first time their eyes met and then had been stone cold the second.

The first four days of waiting, Arianna had been like a raging bull, only contained by her fear for Derek. Everything inside her had wanted to storm the King's domain to insist he listen to pure reason rather than the venomous lies she knew were dripping from the Admiral's lips, it being only her mother's prudent council that held her back from doing exactly that.

Arianna felt awful thinking of herself, when Derek, Alejandro and their crew were the ones truly suffering, however, she knew she was worrying herself sick. The last four mornings she had been awakened by her stomach; the organ seeming to fill overnight with the dread she cried into her pillows, needing to be violently emptied each morning with the rise of a new sun. She had only found herself able to take in hot chocolate and nibble on toast, as she suffered having not much of an appetite and she was afraid to startle her stomach further. Arianna worried little over her loss of a morning appetite, for it always returned in time for supper, and 'twas not as if she had overly exerted herself this week, as her and Derek's nightly exercise had been her main source of exertion since they'd been married. The thought of her and Derek's marital exertions brought a blush to Arianna's cheeks while a painful twinge tore through her heart, for the long nights she spent alone in her bed were pure torture.

Though her family's presence, and that of Carmelita and Roman, kept her occupied most of the time when at home, Arianna was, nonetheless, lonesome. Desiring the sight, feel and protection of her husband, Arianna had escaped the townhouse hoping thoughts of him would drive away the overwhelming loneliness she felt. She had been wrong, she feared, as her loneliness only intensified while she longed for him, wanting nothing more than to be in his arms.

A rustle of the leaves behind her announced someone's approach, Arianna quickly swiped away the tears on her cheeks before she turned to greet the hopefully, welcome company coming her way.

*****

Derek stepped into the King's chambers to find the room empty save for the King himself. Derek glanced around furiously for his first mate but could find no trace of the Spaniard.

"Come stand before me, Trent." The King spoke, his voice clear and commanding. Derek immediately followed the King's orders.

"Now, tell me your story from the moment you laid eyes upon a vessel named the Seahawk."

After taking in a deep breath, Derek had proceeded to do just that.

*****

Kathleen had decided enough was enough. She had had her fill of the sidelong glances, evil glares, even outright snubs her family was being subjected to by the high and mighty Marchioness, as they all waited together in hopes of seeing the King. Kathleen could have chosen to ignore the lady's rudeness, as she had in the past, however, Amelia's bitterness and hostility seemed so set against Kathleen in particular, the duchess hoped there may be a way for her to go about figuring out why.

Kathleen had attempted to befriend Amelia, all those years ago, and things had started out well, the couples had gone to a few occasions together quite amicably, then, of a sudden, Amelia had turned cold. Keeping her distance at parties, she also would not accompany Damien when he came to call. After a while, Damien did not even bother to give an excuse for his wife's absences, coming to call less himself as time went by. Then, when they had both given birth to their boys, hoping the children would give them something in common, Kathleen attempted to call on Amelia.

Amelia declined to see her and young William. Kathleen had been turned away in the foyer. It had taken her a few minutes to gather her reticule and the bag packed with swaddling for William. Kathleen had been frustrated and upset with the refusal as she gathered her things and had been shown the door. Kathleen walked back to the alleyway where her carriage waited, her driver helped her return her things inside for the drive home, taking William so she could alight, then handing him back when she was settled. As they departed the alleyway, approaching the townhouse, the Marquess' front door opened. Kathleen leaned out the window a bit so she could see if it were Crayson. Mayhap, Amelia had changed her mind, Kathleen thought. However, a man Kathleen had never seen before emerged from the residence. Amelia had stepped out with him and they conversed with their heads close together for a second. The man reached down for Amelia's hand and brought it to his lips. He smiled at her, put his hat atop his head and began to walk up the lane. Kathleen noted he was an attractive young man as Amelia looked up and down the walk, as though anxious someone may have seen them together, when her eyes connected with Kathleen's. Amelia's widened in surprise, then they had narrowed in hatred, before she turned and quickly went back inside as the carriage passed.
Kathleen was left wondering if Damien knew that his wife was entertaining other men in his home.

In the here and now, however, Kathleen felt It was past time that Amelia realized her own actions had led to her unhappiness. Kathleen felt the woman needed to stop blaming everyone else, before she made a lasting part of Arianna's life miserable. Kathleen could take, and disregard, the abuse. Arianna, she felt, should not have to. Kathleen paced the foyer of the Marquess' townhouse, determined to see the Marchioness, whether that lady cared to admit her or not.

"Madame will see you in the parlor." Crayson bowed and swept his arm before the door, when Kathleen swept past him, he closed the door behind her.

"To what do I owe the honor of a visit from you, Your Grace?" Amelia's voice dripped with sarcasm as she jabbed her quill into a inkwell. She stood and came around from behind a small, ornate desk to stand in front of it and lean her backside on the top.

"You can blame our husbands if you like, my lady, or the circumstances they created for all I care. All I know, is that our children are well suited, and I for one would have them happy." Kathleen replied, tossing her small reticule into a chair and standing her ground.

Amelia fairly jumped forward, she stood upright so quickly, "Happy! How can my son be happy? He's incarcerated in the Tower, rotting away, all thanks to your daughter!" Amelia spat, pointing her finger in the direction of the duke's townhouse as she finished.

"Amelia, there you are wrong, just as you are wrong in your judgment of me, accusing me of leaving my husband..." Kathleen shook her head in wonder at the woman's audacity before straightening her spine and looking the woman straight in the eye. "I was taken Amelia, taken against my will, and robbed of too many years I should have been with my family."

Amelia snorted and turned away. She did not want to believe that, she had enjoyed believing the worst of Kathleen. It had vindicated her intense hatred of the beauty her husband had preferred all those years ago.

Why, Amelia could still remember waiting for Damien at a musicale he had escorted her to, waiting far too long in her estimation, only to seek him out and find him laughing intimately with Kathleen and William. Damien's eyes had been only for Kathleen, as Amelia watched them, and his eyes had been warm and soft and smiling, not cold, hard and piercing, as when he looked at her.

Yet, another time they had been at a ball, just after Amelia told Damien she was carrying his child, when she had come upon Damien and Kathleen with their arms wrapped around each other on a balcony. Amelia had fled back into the house before they saw her and had pleaded a headache when Damien finally did return to her. They had left the ball immediately, and she had gone home to lay in her lonely bed and cry and curse at the man she loved.

She had been hurt and mortified that her husband would do such a thing, not only to her, for many men had mistresses, but that Damien could betray his best friend so callously did not bode well for her and she vowed never to trust him, building a wall around her heart fortified by hate, bitterness and betrayal.

"Your family, your poor family!" Amelia shrieked, "As if you cared about them when you were with my husband!" Amelia began pacing, the anger was too overwhelming for her to stand still.

"Amelia, I was never with your husband in the way you are referring to. I have always been William's, completely, heart, body and soul, since the day I met him." Kathleen said softly.

Oh my, this was not good, Kathleen thought. She had harbored no idea.....
"I saw you, there is no sense in denying it." Amelia stated angrily, ceasing her pacing and glaring at Kathleen, her arms folded over her chest in a defiant nature.

"What did you see, Amelia?" Kathleen asked. "Damien and I were good friends... I had always hoped we could all be friends, as our husbands cared for one another so." Kathleen allowed compassion to enter into her voice
"I saw the way he looked at you, Your Grace, I saw him holding you." Amelia sneered, her glaring eyes locked on Kathleen's, as if daring her to deny it.
Kathleen wracked her brain, and could only think of twice she had been in Damien's arms. At her wedding, and at his.

"At the wedding?" She asked Amelia. "Everyone embraced at the wedding..."

"Not at the wedding, Your Grace," Amelia all but sneered, "on the balcony, at the Harrison's ball. I saw you being held in my husband's arms." Amelia said to her with conviction. "You couldn't be happy with your own husband's adoration, you simply had to have mine also." Amelia let the bitterness out into the open, shocking Kathleen with the pained hatred in her eyes.

"At Lady Harrison's ball?" Kathleen suddenly remembered, ah yes, there had been that one other time.

"When you told him about Derek." Kathleen sighed regretfully. "I embraced him in congratulations," she explained, "I did, and you thought..." Kathleen began shaking her head, "Oh Amelia, I am so sorry. I am sorry that you believed something other than the truth. I tried to find you that evening to tell you how happy I was for you both, however, you had already departed. There was never anything but friendship between Damien and I." Kathleen assured her as a thought came to her. "The man I saw here with you that day I came to call?" She asked, wincing at her boldness.

"A runner, I was having my husband followed." Amelia confessed, as she sank down on the settee, thinking about what this all meant to her, and thinking of all the years she had wasted as a jealous, insecure fool.

"It certainly does sound as if we both jumped to the wrong conclusions. Now I understand why you refused to see me that day." Kathleen sat across from Amelia and folded her hands in her lap. She looked at the Marchioness, who sat quietly, staring at the floor while tears began to slide slowly down her cheeks. Kathleen started suddenly, when a hand settled on her shoulder. She looked up to find Damien standing beside her. He held out his hand and Kathleen allowed him to help her to rise.

He walked with her to the front entrance, where he whispered, "Thank you, Kathleen." He then kissed her cheek before taking her out to her carriage and handing her up.

Damien then went back into the house to apologize to his wife. For he realized, belatedly,  he had made the same mistake with Amelia as he had made with his son.

*****

"After the wedding, my liege, we sailed with Marlborough's Kathleen, until we reached the channel. 'Twas there the Kathleen slipped ahead, due to her namesake's eagerness to reach her son." Derek concluded his tale, his eyes still meeting his King's, from his position before the monarch's desk.

"So the Duchess of Marlborough truly is home?" The King asked, one dark brow lifted.

"Aye, your Majesty." Derek replied.

"And her daughter is now legally your Countess?" The King inquired dryly.

"Of her own free will and with her parent's blessing." Derek assured him.

"Bare the scars you claim to have acquired during the lady's rescue by my Admiral."

Derek pulled back his shirt, biting his tongue at the King's reference to Arianna's abduction, to reveal the scar that marked the path of the Admiral's bullet through his shoulder.

The King nodded once before rubbing his chin with two fingers. "Very well," the King stated, "You may return to your men, Captain, I shall send for you once I have investigated further."

"My King, may I request permission to speak freely." Derek all but begged.

The King leveled Derek with a heavy stare, "At your own risk, Trent."

"My King, I was told I was being held for kidnapping my wife. If I am to continue to be held, may I ask for what reason?"
The King simply stared at him for the space of a long moment. The only sound in the room was the thrumming of Derek's heartbeat in his own ears. "You are still being held on account of piracy. Now my men will see you back to your accommodations." The King's tone brooked no argument.

"My King, I beg of you, one last question, if I may be so bold." Derek dropped to one knee before his sovereign ruler. The King's men had stepped forward to lead Derek from the room, but paused with eyes trained on their King, awaiting his response.

Another long moment passed before the King replied testily, "One last inquiry, Trent."

"Where is my first mate, my liege?" Derek queried, worry raising his voice an octave.

A hard look came over the King's features. "Your man is awaiting the gallows, Trent. We do not take murder lightly, and killing a bound man can be described as nothing short of murder."

*****

Will took a seat next to his sister upon the bench in the rose garden and gathered her in close to his chest. A fresh spring of tears burst from his little sister as she cried out her fears and frustrations onto his shoulder. Will wondered how many times he had held her thusly in their lifetimes, knowing the number was too great to count. Will held his sister until her tears ran dry, rocking her and stroking her hair the entire time, until her sobs turned to hiccups and he knew she was spent. "Ari, we need to talk." Will graced her with a sympathetic smile as she pushed against his chest and wiped the remainder of her tears from her cheeks. Taking the handkerchief he offered, Arianna daintily blew her nose, then offered it back to him in jest. It was what she had done the first time he had offered his kerchief, before being informed he would appreciate if she kept it until it was suitably laundered.

Will held his hands out in front of him, refusing the scrap of cloth with a grimace.

Arianna laughed sadly, balling up the fabric in her hand, she looked to her guardian angel of a brother for advice. "Will, what am I to do?"

"I have a plan, little one, but I am afraid you will not find it to your liking."