A Duchess to Fight For – Extended Epilogue

Sixteen Years Later

Louisa and Percy walked into the ballroom to see six fifteen-year-olds split into two groups. The boys were in one corner looking uncomfortable and impossibly young.

The girls were in the middle of the ballroom floor whispering and catching looks at the boys.

Louisa smiled, remembering learning how to dance all those years ago when Percy looked like an awkward teen, all arms and legs. Bart looked just like him at that age. She shook her head.

“Why are you shaking your head, Louisa?” he asked.

“It brings back such fun memories of us learning to dance,” she said.

“Fun?” Percy rolled his eyes.

“Hobart, come here please,” Percy called.

Bart shuffled over, barely lifting his feet off the ground, shoulders slumped.

“It’s Bart, Father.”

“What’s Bart?”

“My name, it’s Bart.”

Percy breathed out. “No. I distinctly remember naming you myself.”

“Uncle Hobart gets aggravated when people call me Hobart.”

“Your Uncle Hobart gets aggravated when the sun shines and the birds sing. Your name is Hobart.”

Louisa turned to Percy and said, “You are the only person who calls him Hobart. Everyone has started calling him Bart. Hobart wants it that way, and Bart wants it that way.”

Percy barked out a laugh. “Hobart is not young Hobart’s father. I am.”

Louisa put a hand on Percy’s arm. “We are going to compromise here. Bart,” Louisa turned to her son, “your father will call you Hobart for as long as he wants to call you Hobart. Do not attempt to correct him again.”

She turned to Percy. “The rest of London will call your son Bart. Now, why did you call your son over here?”

Percy turned to Bart. “Hobart, when your mother and I took dance lessons, there was a young man in class who didn’t listen.

“He was disruptive and was made to sit in a chair against the wall a good measure of the time. He turned out to be a terrible dancer. I do not want to hear that you were sent to a chair against the wall for bad behaviour. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Father.”

Louisa looked at Bart and said, “Your father didn’t turn out to be a terrible dancer. He’s just not the best dancer on the dance floor. Now, go back to your friends.”

Bart gave an almost imperceptible smile, turned and made his way back to his friends much more quickly than when he walked to his father.

“I’m going to ring Hobart’s neck.”

“No, you are not. He and Bart are happy with the compromise. Leave him alone.”

Percy looked into Louisa’s eyes, “And does Frederica want to change her name?”

Louisa laughed. “No, she likes her name just fine.”

Mendon entered the ballroom with the instructor in tow.

He bowed, “Mr Anthony Lennon, your ballroom dance instructor.”

Mr Lennon bowed. “Your Grace, Your Grace.”

“Mr Lennon. Pleasure. May I introduce your students.”

Louisa clapped and waved the students over. They lined up in a nice straight row so Mr Lennon could see each one of them.

“May I introduce our twins, Lady Frederica Pemberton and Lord Hobart Pemberton?”

Frederica curtsied, and Bart bowed. Mr Lennon bowed, then they moved aside.

“Lady Emily Faraday and Lady Anna Newton.”

Both girls curtsied, Mr Lennon bowed, and they joined Frederica and Bart.

“And Lord Kenton Dowd and Lord Daniel Pemberley.”

Both boys bowed, and Mr Lennon returned the bow.

Percy continued, “There is a chair against the wall should you deem it necessary to pull one of your students away from the group.

“Halfway through the lesson, lemonade or a refreshment of your choosing will be available. I thank you for coming to us. Mendon is available should there be anything you need.”

Mr Lennon bowed, “Your Grace, Your Grace.”

With one last hard look into his son’s eyes, Percy left the ballroom with Louisa.

They went into the parlour and joined Amelia.

“I need to go out. I’ll be back before the lessons break up.”

“Say hello to him for me.”

Percy shook his head. “You know me too well.”

“Yes, I do.”

*****

Percy walked into Hobart’s office at the warehouse. In his nostalgic mood brought on by dance lessons, he looked around and tried to see if it had changed in the last eighteen years he had walked through the door.

The desk was still as banged up as before. Percy thought it looked like someone took an oversized chain and pummeled the desk with it.

The table that held Hobart’s whisky decanter and glasses was so rickety that Percy thought something so valuable should be kept on a more solid piece of furniture.

His files were piled two feet high, yet Hobart could locate the piece of parchment he needed within thirty seconds of its request.

“You told my son to change his name to Bart?”

He never liked his name, and when he was on the road all those years ago, he went by a number of different aliases. He liked every single name he gave himself. They were all much better than Hobart Haddington.

When little Hobart was born, and Percy was so proud to be able to name his twins for Frederick and him, how could Hobart say it was a terrible idea? He watched Bart grow up, as a five-year-old kicking a ball, as an eight-year-old stuck in a tree, and as a thirteen-year-old swimming in the lake on the estate. Little Hobart’s mother or father called out ‘Hobart’ and it used to make him cringe.

He and Bart had conspired to change his name. They both considered it a great improvement. When they told Louisa, she was enthusiastic about the idea. She did, however, warn that Percy might not think it was such a good idea. No one, including Louisa, seemed to care. They decided the name Bart was a vast improvement over the name Hobart.

“Hello to you too, Percy. Yes, I did. I was tired of two of us with the same name. Each time I heard ‘Hobart’ I looked up to see no one was talking to me. I got a crick in my neck.”

“You are aware that I am his father, and I named the boy?”

“Aha, I’m aware.”

Percy breathed out.

“Do not start pacing,” Hobart said.

“So you had a crick in your neck then decided to rename my son.”

“That’s right.”

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

“Aha.” Hobart looked down and started sorting parchment on his desk.

He heard Percy let out a long breath.

“Don’t start pacing.”

“I’m going to continue to call him Hobart.”

“Good for you,” Hobart said while continuing to organize his parchments.

Percy threw up his hands. He stood. “I’m going home.”

Hobart looked up. “Don’t go. You haven’t even asked me what’s new with me yet.”

Percy sat. Hobart poured them both a whisky.

“It’s a little early in the day for whisky,” he said then took a sip.

“Yes, it is,” Hobart said after smacking his lips.

“So, the ships are all shifting out of Boston to New York. My captain is going to check it out before he heads back here.”

“What’s the advantage?”

“Not sure. Larger port, better distribution after off-load. The Boston port isn’t very large.”

“Any downside for you?”

Hobart shrugged. “By the second or third shipment, there won’t be much of a difference. Just have to feel our way the first time around.”

Shipping to America was everything Hobart knew it would be. They had an unending need for everything, and he could send ten ships a month there, and the goods would be swallowed up in an instant with buyers lined up waiting for more.

He now dealt exclusively in utensils, cutlery, dishes, and glasses. The business was easy to execute, and he and Frederick liked the results.

Two ships were enough for them. Hobart needed to be active, and he loved his warehouse. He already had more money than he would ever need. He purposely didn’t fix up his parlour just to drive Percy crazy. It was so very easy to do.

Percy took a sip then asked, “When are you making your maiden voyage?”

“Probably about two weeks after my captain gets back. Soon.”

“Still going to sail to Boston?”

“One or two more runs. That’s it.”

Percy shook his head. “Boston’s going to take quite a hit.”

“I think so. It’s a good thing the London port is going to stay put. I’m not sure I would move to a new port.”

Percy grimaced. “We wouldn’t want you to go.”

“I know,” Hobart said and finished his drink.

Percy finished off his and stood. “I’m not happy with what you did with Hobart. He is my son to name.”

“I know. You’ll get over it, eventually.”

Percy shook his head. “Between you and my wife, I feel like a sap most of the time.”

Without a goodbye, Percy turned and walked out of the office door.

Hobart watched him walk through the warehouse and out the barn door. He couldn’t help laughing. He loved that man.

*****

“How did it go, Mr Lennon?” Percy asked.

“It went well, Your Grace. One or two minor hiccups, but that’s to be expected with students this age. I think you will be pleased with the outcome.”

“Thank you, Mr Lennon. I’ll have Mendon show you out. Next week?”

Mr Lennon bowed again. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Percy strode to the ballroom. “Hello, ladies. Did you enjoy your dance lesson?”

Frederica spoke for the group. “Yes, Father, it was fun. My friends are to take tea before they leave.”

“Sounds like a splendid plan. Have you seen your brother?”

“Is he in trouble?” Frederica asked.

“Should he be?” Percy responded. The girls all giggled at that, and Percy knew he was indeed in trouble; he just didn’t know why yet.

“Your brother’s whereabouts?” Percy said with a raised eyebrow.

“Out front on the pavement waiting for Kenton and Daniel to get picked up.”

“Thank you, ladies. Enjoy tea.”

Percy walked down the steps to the pavement below where it looked like three hoodlums were loitering in front of his townhouse.

“Boys,” he said, tearing them away from a low, secret exchange most probably about the girls inside.

The boys jumped and turned to Percy looking as guilty as three boys could possibly look without committing murder.

“Please join me inside until your carriage arrives. I don’t appreciate your standing in the way of ladies and gentlemen trying to walk by.”

They scrambled up the stairs, and Mendon opened the door, no doubt anticipating the outcome of Percy’s talk with the boys.

“You have two choices. You can stand here with Mendon until your carriage comes, or you can join the ladies taking tea.”

Percy saw the boys look at each other with fear in their eyes. Was he like this when he was fifteen? Pathetic.

Bart said, “We’ll wait here.”

Percy gave a short nod and said, “Hobart, when your friends have been collected, I would like you to find me. Look in my office or the library first, but please continue to look until you find me?”

“Yes, Father.”

Percy took one look at the three fifteen-year-olds and shook his head. “Good day, boys.”

He went to see how the ladies were doing. Frederica poured him tea, and he chatted with the girls about their dance lesson. It occurred to him during tea that the maturity level between these girls and the hoodlums out in the hall spanned about five years.

How could he have not noticed it before? Frederica was a credit to her mother and a very put together young lady. Bart may be her twin, but he had nowhere near the maturity level. Again, he wondered if he was that bad when he was that age.

When he looked back on his dance lessons, he searched his mind to see if Louisa was so much more mature than him. He didn’t think so. He would remember if she were. Of course, his perception may have been off. Bart was clueless. Maybe, most likely, he was too.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She was as beautiful then as she was today. Just being in the same room as her for that amount of time was exciting. He remembered looking forward to dance lessons. Before they started, he could never have imagined he would look forward to dance lessons.

It was the first time they were all put in a social situation as young men and women. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating.

Percy went to his office and began to read his correspondence until Bart came in.

“Have a seat,” he instructed Bart. He folded his hands on the desk in front of him and began slowly.

“How was your dance lesson?” Percy asked.

“It wasn’t my fault,” was his answer.

Percy wanted to burst out laughing. He knew nothing of what Bart was confessing. But he was about to find out.

He said, “Well, then, why don’t you start at the very beginning and tell me what happened and I’ll be the judge of that.”

Bart fidgeted in his chair and moved his eyes throughout the room, skipping Percy’s.

“I’m waiting.”

“Well, Kenton started it. He stepped on Anna’s toe on purpose, and she cried out. He said he didn’t mean to put that much weight on it, so it was an accident.”

Percy took his folded hands and brought them in front of his mouth so Bart didn’t see him laughing.

“Go on,” Percy said.

“So, Daniel said I like Emily to everyone there. I was so embarrassed.”

“Is it true?” Percy asked, and then wished he hadn’t. He really didn’t want to know.

“Don’t tell Mother?”

“I can’t guarantee that.”

“Well, yeah, I do. But I didn’t want everyone to know it. Daniel is such a big mouth.

“So, everyone was looking at me after Daniel said I like Emily. So I stepped on her toe so no one would think it’s true.”

“How hard did you step on her toe?”

Bart shrugged. “She squealed, but she didn’t have any trouble walking.”

“Go on.” Percy thought it was amusing until Bart stepped on Emily’s toe on purpose. He could feel the anger growing inside of him.

“Well, Mr Lennon put me in a chair. He was angry. But it wasn’t my fault. Kenton started it with Anna then Daniel told everyone I like Emily. I had to do it.”

“Is your story done?”

“Yes, Father.”

Percy went to the parlour to find the girls exactly where he left them.

“Lady Emily?”

Emily stood and curtsied. “Your Grace?”

“Would you please join me in my office? It won’t take but a moment. Louisa?”

Bart stood and bowed when he saw Emily enter the room. She saw him and halted her step for just a second before continuing. Louisa came in and sat. Emily sat, then Bart sat. Percy remained standing.

“Lady Emily, my son here, Hobart would like a moment of your time, if you please.”

She nodded. Bart stood.

“Lady Emily, please accept my deepest apology for stepping on your toe and hurting your foot. I regret causing you pain, and I hope you are able to forgive me.”

Emily had turned red in the face but kept her composure. “You are forgiven. Thank you for your apology.”

Percy said, “Thank you, Lady Emily. Would you like to rejoin tea in the parlour?”

Emily rose, curtsied, and left the room.

“Now, let’s talk about fault. Whom can we blame for Hobart deliberately stepping on Emily’s toe? Hobart said we need to blame Kenton. And Daniel. Louisa, who should be blamed for Hobart deliberately stepping on Emily’s toe?”

Louisa looked at her son, “Why, I believe it was Bart’s direct actions that caused Emily to have her toe stepped on. But to clarify, did Kenton step on Emily’s toe?”

“No, he did not,” Percy replied.

“Did Daniel step on Emily’s toe?”

Percy shook his head, “No he did not. But Hobart here blames Kenton and Daniel.”

Louisa furrowed her brow, “I don’t understand.”

“Hobart, would you please explain to your mother why you are not to blame for stepping on Emily’s toe?”

Bart turned and looked into his mother’s eyes. “I can’t, Mother. I am to blame.”

“Go to your room. Do not come out until I specifically come up, open your bedchamber door, and tell you that you can come out.

“Until then, you’ll take your meals in your room, and you will think about the meaning of the word blame. Go.”

Bart stood and left Percy’s office as fast as humanly possible.

Louisa looked at Percy, “Do I want to know?”

“I got the long story. The short story is Kenton stepped on Anna’s toe then Daniel said Hobart liked Emily, which he does, but to prove Daniel wrong, Hobart stepped on Emily’s toe. It was Kenton and Daniel’s fault.”

“Ah, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Louisa said.

“Please tell me I was never that bad?”

“I’m sorry dear, but I can’t.”

“As soon as puberty kicks in, the male of the species gets stupid.”

Louisa laughed, kissed Percy on the forehead, and went back to the parlour.

*****

“I don’t think eating dinner once a week at the club does it for me anymore. Can we go back to six nights a week?” Percy asked.

Kent smirked. “Bart?”

“How did you guess? Louisa says I was that bad when I was his age, but I can’t believe that’s true.”

Cecil laughed. “If Louisa says it’s true then, sorry Percy, it’s true.”

“And these dance lessons. Kenton and Hobart egg each other on. Poor Emily and Frederica. They shouldn’t even have to be in the same room as them.”

“I don’t know. Emily comes home from dance lessons happy and humming waltzes. I think she’s having a good time,” Cecil said.

“Cecil, Emily has Hobart’s undivided attention whether she likes it or not. It’s got to feel good to have a boy with drool on his face all because of you.”

Cecil shook his head. “Can we not talk about Emily and Bart? It’s not my happiest thought. Your kid is not good enough for my baby. Leave it at that.”

“I love having a boy. If I had a daughter, I don’t know how I could handle a boy even holding her hand for a dance,” Kent said.

Percy looked at Kent. “Your son is not one bit shy. He’s amazing. His moves are way beyond his years. Some father is going to beat him up before his first season is over.”

Cecil asked, “How is Louisa handling all this?”

Percy barked out a laugh. “Better than me. I look at Frederica, and I see a beautiful ten-year-old girl with a doll in her arms. How am I going to watch her dance with boys?

“Louisa says even though they were born three minutes apart, Frederica is three years more mature than Hobart.

“I just don’t know what to do with him. And it’s unmanly the way he follows Emily around. No male pride there.”

“Percy, you have to admit Emily is a beautiful girl. As is Frederica,” Cecil said.

Percy asked, “When are you coming over to watch? I stand at my office door and watch them. They don’t know I’m watching. It’s hilarious.

“You have to come over. Especially you, Kent. Kenton has the moves. Cecil, you should come see how beautiful and graceful Emily is.”

Cecil said, “Okay, already. Next lesson is Wednesday?”

Percy nodded. “What about you Kent?”

He laughed. “I’m afraid I’ll be too embarrassed watching him.”

“Are you joking? Your kid looks worldly compared to Hobart. You have to come. I won’t tell any one of them you’ll be there.”

Kent nodded. “I’ll be there.”

*****

Kent turned to Percy while they were standing in the doorway of his office watching dance lessons.

“I need a drink.”

Percy laughed and waved them in. He shut the office door.

They sat and Percy handed each of them a whisky.

Cecil said, “You are right, Percy. Emily and Frederica are leaps and bounds more mature than the rest of them.”

Percy shook his head. “I shouldn’t have told you to come. I keep forgetting how pathetic Hobart is. It’s hard to watch.”

“It was great,” Kent said to immediate groans from Cecil and Percy.

“Your kid’s a rogue at the age of fifteen.”

“I told you he had moves,” Percy said.

“That’s my boy,” Kent grinned.

*****

Percy and Louisa were in their bedchamber changing for bed.

“How did Cecil and Kent enjoy the show?”

“You know, our boy is the most awkward, immature child out there. Cecil was beating his chest about how beautiful Emily is, and Kent was all smiles with Kenton’s moves. Then there’s Hobart.”

Louisa laughed. “Yes, then there’s Bart. He is all arms and legs and peach fuzz. He is going to be a handsome man just like his father.”

“Him?”

“Him.”

“If you say so, Louisa. Is Frederica enjoying it?”

“Very much so,” Louisa smiled. “Do you remember our dance lessons? The memory of them has come back since we started having Frederica and Bart learn.

“It was such a special time in our lives. Why did we fight so hard to be just friends?”

Percy walked to Louisa and hugged her. “Because we were afraid we would lose each other if we didn’t.”

Louisa reached up and kissed Percy. “And look how it all turned out. We could have saved a lot of trouble for the both of us if we didn’t have that silly notion in our heads.”

Percy and Louisa got into bed together. “We’ll have to somehow make sure Bart and Emily don’t make a friendship pact. I would hate for them to put themselves through the misery of trying to work around it.”

Percy leaned on his elbow looking down at Louisa lying next to him. “You really think those two are going to get together, don’t you?”

“I do. I look at him, and I see the same faithful puppy dog expression I saw on your face 18 years ago. And Emily? She has that small smile that says ‘I kind of like faithful puppy dogs.’”

“Do you think they’ll be as happy as us?”

Louisa lifted her hand and put her palm on Percy’s cheek. “If they are very, very lucky.”

THE END

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