Anne Herries - A Regency Lord's Command

ANNE HERRIESlives in Cambridgeshire, where she is fond of watching wildlife and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature and sometimes puts a little into her books, although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment and to give pleasure to her readers. Anne is a winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association Romance Prize. She invites readers to contact her on her website: www.lindasole.co.uk.

A Regency Lord’s Command

The Disappearing Duchess

The Mysterious Lord Marlowe

Anne Herries

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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About the Author ANNE HERRIES lives in Cambridgeshire, where she is fond of watching wildlife and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature and sometimes puts a little into her books, although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment and to give pleasure to her readers. Anne is a winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association Romance Prize. She invites readers to contact her on her website: www.lindasole.co.uk .

Title Page A Regency Lord’s Command The Disappearing Duchess The Mysterious Lord Marlowe Anne Herries www.millsandboon.co.uk

The Disappearing Duchess The Disappearing Duchess Anne Herries

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

The Mysterious Lord Marlowe

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Afterword

Copyright

The Disappearing Duchess

Anne Herries

Justin, Duke of Avonlea, looked round at the sea of faces. They were all staring at him expectantly, believing that he was about to make a speech of welcome and cut the cake with his bride. His mouth was dry, his chest tight with a kind of suspended agony, as he struggled to come to terms with what was seemingly going on.

Lucinda, his beautiful bride, had gone. She had left him almost immediately after the wedding ceremony. They’d returned from the church together in the carriage to his beautiful home, where the lavish reception was being held. She’d excused herself to him, saying that the flounce on her wedding gown was torn.

‘I shall be no more than ten minutes, Avonlea,’ she’d said with that shy smile he found so attractive. ‘Please make my excuses to our guests. I shall join you as soon as I can.’

‘Of course, my love.’ He’d taken her hand to kiss the palm. ‘You look beautiful, Lucinda. Have I told you how much I adore you?’

‘Yes, Justin, several times. I am very fond of you, too,’ she’d said, smiled and left him to run lightly up the stairs.

That was more than an hour ago and since then no one had seen anything of her. Concerned after thirty minutes or so that she was keeping their guests waiting unduly, he’d gone up to her rooms to ask what was causing the delay. He had found only her maid, Alice.

‘Where is your mistress?’ he asked. ‘We must not keep the guests waiting any longer.’

‘I have not seen Lady Avonlea since you left the church, your Grace.’

‘But she came directly up to have the flounce mended on her wedding gown. How can you not have seen her?’

‘I have been waiting for her,’ the maid said and looked nervous. ‘Truly, she has not been here, sir.’

‘Lucinda told me her gown was torn…’ He looked around the room, which had been recently refurbished in the colours his young wife loved: creams, various shades of rose and gold, blending perfectly. No expense had been spared and he had imagined her being happy in the luxury he had provided. ‘Is there no sign of her gown? Did she change into something else?’

The maid could not meet his eyes as she shook her head. ‘Forgive me, sir. I was gone but a few moments and only to make sure that my lady’s bags were safely stowed ready for your journey. When I returned I thought a few small things might have disappeared, but I was not certain.’

Avonlea strode over to the armoire and opened it, but the shelves were full of the gowns and beautiful silks he had purchased for his bride’s pleasure.

‘I cannot see that anything has been taken.’ He frowned at the maid, feeling stunned. How could his bride have disappeared from her home on her wedding day, and more importantly, why? ‘Make up your mind, girl—this is important. Surely your mistress would not leave without taking anything—or leaving a message?’

‘There was an old gown—and some trinkets that my lady valued, which have gone from the dressing chest, but all her good jewels are here, your Grace.’

‘Your mistress must be in the house or gardens,’ Justin said, refusing to believe that what the maid was implying could be right. Why on earth would Lucinda leave him? He could think of no possible reason for they had been on good terms; there had been no quarrel, no dispute between them. The marriage might not have been a love match, but there was respect and affection on both sides—at least he had believed so when Lucinda accepted his suit. What could have changed her? What had he done that she must flee from him without a word?

He took a turn about the room, trying to find an answer to his questions; discovering no clue, he turned back to the anxious maid.

‘Search your mistress’s room thoroughly and make certain whether there is a letter left somewhere. Also, please make a list of what has been taken. I need to know whether this was planned or an impulse. In the meantime, I shall have a search made for her.’

The search had begun, but as yet no sign of the new duchess had been found and no one seemed to have seen her.

The guests were getting restless, beginning to gossip amongst themselves. Justin could see concern, intrigue and some exchanged knowing looks; his true friends would be anxious, but some of his slight acquaintances might be amused if they learned that his bride had left him—not at the altar, it was true—but before the wedding reception had been held. It was a lowering thought and one that hurt his pride. Accustomed to homage, and with his good looks and vast wealth, sought after by every matchmaking mama in England, he had thought long and hard before asking a lady to be his wife. Lucinda might be a virtual nobody from the country, but her modesty and shy smile had convinced him that she would be the perfect wife for a man in his position.