Free Lady Eugenia's Holiday by Shirley Marks

been some discussion of
Franz traveling with Eugenia and Aunt Rose. Eugenia had been spared keeping
company with the musician, whom she adored, but would have dreaded occupying
the same vehicle for an extended period of time.
    He was such a delicate man, probably subject to the
damp, and to watch him suffer when there was nothing she could do would have
been dreadful. Thank goodness Mrs. Penshurst insisted he ride with them.
Eugenia could only sympathize with poor Cynthia, trapped in a coach with Franz
for hours on end.
    “Tell me, Genie dear, did you enjoy your time in
Brighton?” Aunt Rose continued, preventing Eugenia from answering. “I for one
believe your stay was more than successful.”
    Eugenia remembered during her journey to Brighton
she had dreamed of a highwayman. Now, a month later, she had no need for
fantasies of imaginary rogues, she could focus on her handsome duke. How much
she had changed, how she had grown.
    “You attended your fair share of balls, made more
than a handful of friends.” Aunt Rose pointed out what was obvious to Eugenia. “And
if I am not mistaken, you have formed a desirable attachment.”
    “It has yet to be determined if the Duke and I have
formed an attachment.”
    “Really? That is not what I have heard.” Aunt Rose
busied herself by rummaging thought her bag. “Although he may seem upstanding,
my dear, there is something I find disturbing about him,” Aunt Rose began. “That
duke is not without a blemished past.”
    “What exactly do you mean?” Eugenia inquired with
piqued interest. She had never heard a contrary word about him from anyone.
Rather, it seemed he was in great demand among the ladies. Elusive they had
called him, for none of them could catch his fancy.
    “It seems the Duke was not always a duke.” Aunt
Rose eyed Eugenia skeptically. “At one time, Thomas Mallick was only Lord
Thomas, a duke’s younger son. His elder brother, Edmund, inherited the title
when their father passed away some seven years ago.”
    “Why are you telling me this?” The tormented tone
of Aunt Rose’s voice set Eugenia on edge more than the quaint tale. “It is not
so unusual that a younger brother should inherit an elder brother’s title.”
    “You are quite right, my dear. I simply thought the
story was worth mentioning since you seem to want to know all there is about
him.” Aunt Rose removed her handkerchief from her reticule. “It seems the
circumstance of his succession was … It appears to me very questionable.”
    The manner in which Aunt Rose brought up the entire
subject did not seem to sit right with Eugenia and it sent a chill down her
spine. Eugenia could think of nothing else after her aunt dozed off minutes
later.
    Arriving at their destination, Eugenia found the
estate of Brookhaven to be large, lavish, and beautiful, ample size to
accommodate the guests in complete luxury.
    Eugenia settled in a brightly colored, cheerful
room next to her aunt’s. But no amount of pampering or comfort could distract
her from what took place in her heart and in her head.
    Her thoughts strayed. She missed Rothford terribly,
and it would be more than several weeks before she would see him again. How
would she bear it?
    And that had to be why Eugenia felt so very
unsettled.
    The next morning, the house guests met Lady
Penelope’s brother Randolph. Young Mr. Coddington had been in London this past
Season. Eugenia thought him handsome but somewhat nervous, tugging on his vest
and the sleeves of his blue superfine coat.
    He must have been morbidly shy and somewhat
panicked when his sister introduced him to the sizable number of guests who had
invaded their home.
    The presence of so many people caused him to
retreat to one of the small parlors where Eugenia observed he must have
succumbed to a fit of the vapors. Or did one call it something else when it
occurred to a man?
    Mr. Coddington explained to his sister, when none
of the guests recalled seeing him in Town, that he