My Strange Duke

By Puja Miri Yajnik

Ariana has been battling unhappiness for most of her life. Ostensively, things were fine. She had a great job and a pleasant enough life until she met a stranger and life took on a completely different turn. This book is a wondrous discovery of the past with a vision so clear it’s astonishing. Readers are taken back to England’s Regency period—a forgotten time where Ariana is transported. She is faced with daunting enemies, jealousy, the unraveling of long-buried secrets, and threats to her very life. But all this is of no matter, for the predominant strain is the magical personality of a man and a bond so strong and so powerful that it becomes impossible to get over it in the past life or, indeed, in any other.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jul 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9781728390147

Puja Miri Yajnik

Puja Miri Yajnik is a fiction writer. Her previous work includes: ‘The Curse of the Winwoods’, ‘My Strange Duke’, ‘Rose Cottage: Shimla, 1802’ and ‘Bandra Tales’, as well as ‘Love & Motorcars’, the first in a series. This is the sequel to the same.

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© 2019 Puja Miri Yajnik. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse   06/26/2019

ISBN: 978-1-7283-9015-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-9014-7 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Author Photo: Garima Yagnik

Cover Design: Garima Yagnik

Illustration: Karan-Aryaman Marwaha

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Contents

Acknowledgements

An Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Acknowledgements

I am very grateful to Professor Mrinal Miri for his valuable support. A massive thanks to Professor Sujata Miri, for the gentle, constant reminders! Thanks to Garima for the lovely illustrations. Lastly, my sincere thanks to Bundle, Marcus and Karan for helping with technical aspects at various points of time.

An Introduction

S omeone was calling my name, screaming for me, I tossed my head from side-to-side, mumbling unintelligibly. Everywhere, darkness. Where was this voice coming from? I felt claustrophobic, breathless… An overwhelming sense of loss… A dreadful sorrow.

I was sitting by the window, half hidden by burgundy drapes, my papers strewn about me as I paused writing, looking out into the large, rain-drenched garden. Colourful flower beds, tall trees and an antique bench. I smiled to myself, our house reflected us. It was a comfortable Georgian mansion, not too large, but with acres of land surrounding it. That was the way Duke liked it.

He had gone for his customary walk with his dogs, two rather unruly and badly-behaved Labradors, who had been grossly indulged. Duke was like that, he went all out for those he loved, gave in to all their wishes, showered them with his love and attention. If you were fortunate enough to be loved by him, you felt as though you owned the world… Well, I owned the world!

I smiled to myself; my mind went back to many years ago. I was in Hong Kong, my husband, Ajay, worked in a multinational bank. We were new there and did not know too many people. One day I received a call from the wife of a colleague of Ajay’s, who had just arrived in town. I have a favour to ask of you, she had said, please could you come with me to Duke’s concert? I had heard of Duke, of course, he was one of the most famous Rock artists of our times. I had said no to her at first I hardly know his music and do not understand it, I’m not the rock concert type.

She insisted, how could she go on her own, she reasoned. In the end I went along, in truth, only to make a friend. The stadium was packed to its full capacity. Once Duke came onstage, all hell broke loose. People screamed at the top of their voices, girls cried, some fainted and were taken away on stretchers. It was an extraordinary sight for someone who had never been to such a concert. We were somewhere in the middle, our tickets being neither too expensive nor too cheap. To me he was a distant speck upon the stage. I could not even hear him, as the people around me sang along with him. They knew every song word by word. Life is so very strange I thought to myself, one never knows what each turn will bring…

I was born in a small village in Cornwall. My parents were artists and extremely well-read. They were very popular socially and I remember the countless parties we had, and the interesting people that would visit our old, somewhat battered manor house that my father had inherited from his grandfather, who I remembered as a rather fierce military gentleman, General Hamilton.

Ever since I can remember though, I was lonely. It was as if I was born with an aching feeling in my heart, a feeling of great loss. The nightmares disturbed me. I would invariably wake up screaming something unintelligible. My parents would come running to my bedside, hug me, and try and calm me down. My mother did not encourage me to question these dreams. When I was little, my mind often dwelt on them.

As I grew older, the dreams were much less frequent, things began to change. My friends started dating. I found myself constantly backing away from relationships whenever they seemed to be getting too serious. It was as if I knew what I was looking for, and this was not it. The girls around me sniggered and sometimes openly laughed at me, who on earth are you looking for, a prince? they would scoff. I knew my friends made fun of me but I remained the way I was. It was as if I was searching, and I knew not for what. Time went on, most of my friends began to settle down. I had been seeing Ajay on-and-off for a couple of years. He was the son of our doctor, a Mr. Raj Singh, who came from the same town in India as my mother. She was very fond of him and had been urging me to think seriously of him for quite a while. So it was that Ajay and I got married, and within a year we had a daughter, who became the focus of my life. If the truth be told, through it all, my heart remained lonely, detached, as if its owner was automatically going through the paces of life. I was comfortable where I was… But never happy.

I sighed to myself as I recalled these memories… At times, I used to feel as if I had been cursed by someone… Then I would laugh at myself and try to shake off that melodramatic thought. Ostensibly things were fine, I had a loving family and a handsome husband, yet, I was always heartrendingly lonely. Very often I would sit still, holding on to a fleeting feeling. Sometimes it was triggered by a painting or even the sight of a building… Something indescribable, almost within my reach… But not quite. I suppose it sounds ridiculous but that is what I felt. My marriage did not last too long, it drew to its natural conclusion, though we remained the best of friends always.

As a child, I used to think everyone was like me. Slowly, as I grew older it dawned on me that the other people around me did not suffer this degree of loneliness. They talked excitedly of their victories and complained about failures. For me, nothing seemed to matter, it was as if I was standing a little towards the back, looking on at the world going by. I was never a player… Always, an observer. I felt like an outsider, always detached, always unhappy. Things got tougher, my heart felt heavier and I hardly ever smiled, it was as if I missed someone quite dreadfully, someone who had never really been there. People around me would say you take life too seriously, you should lighten up or you work too hard, you should go easy on yourself but I went on pushing myself, working hard, hoping to be too tired to think. The loneliness stayed with me.

I was a professional photographer and travelled a lot in connection with my work. Often, I visited old cities and towns, and spent days taking pictures of castles and other old estates. In some special moments, I would see an object that arrested my attention in each of the places I visited. I remember an instance where I had been commissioned to photograph an old theatre. Glancing around, I looked up at the ceiling, it was done in yellow and gold with elaborate carvings. For a moment I felt as if I had seen that sort of work somewhere, somehow it made me happy.

I sighed, stood up and stretched,really extraordinary, our story… I thought to myself, trying to shake off the memory of my past. I disliked thinking about it, my heart sank at the thought of the years and years of dull emptiness. It was such a waste of life. A feeling of desperate longing. Only someone who has felt such an emotion can understand how devastatingly unhappy such loneliness can make you, how useless everything seems and how bleak the future looks.

Chapter 1

L arge, imposing iron gates, one side was shut, the other open. We drove through, I bought the tickets, and we moved on. It was a cloudy day, with occasional bursts of sunshine, a typical English late afternoon in the month of July. The house we had come to visit was an old one, said to be a Duke’s residence, it housed the best of paintings and furniture from different eras. One of the grandest of stately homes. We were a group of four people, a friend of mine, Anita, and her daughter Tanya, my daughter Serena, and myself, everyone in the mood for a day out. I was dressed in black skinny jeans, a pale pink linen shirt and sensible boots, perfect for a day in the country. I looked around me as we drove up to the house. It was a long, winding drive, green grounds and tall trees for miles around. A sense of excitement rose within me. There was a freshness in the air, the sea was quite close and there were several places of interest along the coast we had been advised to see. We left our car in the parking lot and walked on. At last… The house… My heart stopped for a moment as I stared at it. Bathed in golden light, it looked perfect to me. High stone walls and imposing towers, it was more a castle than a manor house. But somehow, for an inexplicable reason, the sight of it filled me with a huge sense of comfort. As I stared at it, I gradually began feeling an overwhelming sense of peace. I felt as though I belonged here. I began to walk towards the house. Then I stopped abruptly, and looked about me, a little shocked.

Mum. Said Serena, what’s the matter? She shook my arm.

Oh, nothing… I mumbled.

Shall we go in Arianna? Anita asked me, in her booming voice.

Yes, of course. I answered.

"You feeling alright? She inquired, frowning a little.

Yes, yes of course… Listen, why don’t you all go in, I will just walk around for a bit, then join you. I said.

Are you sure mum? asked Serena, somewhat surprised. Yes, please. I think I need some fresh air. I said, smiling at her.

I’ll come with you, she said.

Oh no dear, you go ahead, I will join you soon… Please. I looked into her eyes entreatingly.

Well okay, but keep your phone on, she said, taking it from my hand and checking it

Bye I said, turning away. Mum! called Serena after me Yes? I turned back

Your phone, keep it with you, she said, shaking her head reprovingly at me and handing me my phone. I laughed and moved off.

I was walking purposefully, with long, confident strides, to my left, over the green lawn into a sort of shrubbery, then down a narrow path after which I took a right turn and stood still in front of tall, narrow, iron gates that were severely damaged and weather-beaten. I looked about me. Lots of trees and bushes, unruly grass, and a wonderful, sweet smell, I breathed deeply. I went down the two-three narrow steps, walked on into the bushes, and looked towards my right…. An uneven slope, a bench. I stopped short.

I looked ahead of me, somehow, to my eyes, this was a glorious sight. I moved ahead, on one side was the damaged bench, awkwardly tilted, surrounded by overgrown grass and on the other, large trees with strong trunks and a sort of narrow railing, overlooking the garden that stretched below it. I walked up the slope, looking about me wonderingly… This was it, pure peace. I breathed deeply, and sat down on one corner of the crooked bench, letting my bag fall on the ground beside me. It was quiet, except for the soft breeze that felt so comforting, like a balm over my wounds. I folded my hands in my lap and lay my head on it, I do not know how long I sat there like that.

A sound made me look up. Straight ahead, leaning against a tree was a tall man in a long, dark coat. He stood silently with his back towards me, as if lost in his thoughts, gazing at the garden below.

I shrugged and laid my head on my arms again, my eyes closed… ‘What is this place? So beautiful… So peaceful’ my eyes moistened with unshed tears.

The man must have stepped on a twig, it snapped. I looked up. He was looking at me, still standing near the same tree.

I am so sorry. He said, have I disturbed you? I stared at him, unable to say anything. To my embarrassment, a tear chose this moment to trickle down my cheek. I hastily wiped it off. He stood where he was, looking at me, now thoughtfully. He was a slim man, with spectacles, he had brown, soft eyes and longish, untidy hair.

Are you unwell? He asked, politely in a deep and extremely attractive voice.

No… I… I tried to say something, but a few more tears welled up in my eyes and began their journey, unbidden, down my cheeks. This time I did not raise my hands to wipe them off… I seemed to be unable to do anything about it. It is a beautiful spot, isn’t it? He said, conversationally.

I nodded, still unable to speak.

I often come here. He said, kindly. Any time of the year, this particular spot is glorious.

Is it? I almost whispered.

Yes, it is… The flowers, the trees. He went on. A charming smile lighting up his face.This grass, this undergrowth. I added, we both laughed. It is a rather neglected part of the estate… But you know, I like it just the way it is He said, walking up to me and putting out his hand. I hastily wiped my tears off then looked at my hands, his eyes smiled into mine, noticing my hesitation. But he kept his hand outstretched, waiting. I wiped my hand on my jacket and put my hand into his.

Duke He said. His hand was holding mine, firmly. Arianna I whispered back. My eyes moistened up again, He held on to my hand, his eyes looking into mine. I stared back into his, a sigh escaped my lips. He let go of my hand and sat down beside me. May I? He asked as he sat down. We sat there on the crooked bench, both silent for a while. Even as curiosity engulfed me, I felt a strange sense of happiness creep up on me… My heart was beating loudly in my chest as I felt his proximity. Inexplicably, I wanted this moment to go on forever.

Do you live nearby? He asked, breaking the silence. No not really… Richmond, actually. I replied.

Oh, that’s quite a long way off He said. And you? I asked, politely.

In London, mostly… I have a place in the country near here where I sometimes come to work. He said.

What do you do? I asked.

I am a musician. He said, simply.

I turned towards him at that, Yes of course! I mumbled. THE Duke… I mean, the singer.

Yes. He said.

Oh. I said. You look different from your pictures He was smiling at me, I smiled back.

You’d be surprised how much a pair of glasses can help. He mumbled.

My daughter is a huge fan. I said.

I’m glad He said, humbly. I looked back at him, and we both laughed.

He rose to his feet; my heart missed a beat. Oh please, don’t let him go away. I prayed, feverishly. He had no intention of leaving, he told me later. It was just that the low end of the seat where he had been sitting was terribly uncomfortable for a man with such long legs!

I… She is here with me, will… Could you meet her? I asked, awkwardly, trying to keep him with me.

Of course,… I should love to. He said, now?

I got up from my seat and looked about me. Then, I looked up at him. He was looking straight into my eyes, a disconcerting expression in his. We stood still, staring into each other’s eyes. Then he said softly, Shall we go?

Hmm. I whispered.

To meet her… Your daughter, I mean Yes… Of course. I said, somewhat hurriedly.

‘He wants to get rid of me’ I thought to myself. His next words confirmed my fear.

I know a short-cut through the gardens He said, his voice still terribly gentle, as if talking to an upset child.

Yes… sure… I mumbled, my mind wanting to somehow keep him with me.

Shall we? He said, moving a little to his left and gesturing with one hand.

I began to walk, my mind in turmoil, already feeling the loss of this stranger.

Oh I stopped abruptly, colliding into him, and then stepping away, hastily.

What is it? He asked, almost eagerly, I thought, a little surprised.

My bag… I said, in a low voice, and went back to the seat. I picked up the bag and looked at the seat, and then back at him. Somehow, I felt like a wreck.

Come, he said. Dumbly, I went forward and followed him through the trees. It was so unlike me, walking about with a complete stranger in a totally unknown place and praying furiously for the moment to never end. I needn’t have worried, He took me all over… We walked by a pavilion and a Grecian temple, an orangery, a rose garden… Everywhere, except to the house. We talked, exchanged stories and opinions on this and that. I was deliriously happy for the first time in my life.

At long last we made our way towards the house, as if automatically. It was like I knew my way about. He let me lead the way, walking slowly by my side. We walked along the side of the house, up to some steps that led to a patio. We went up and turned the handle of the door. It was locked, we peeped in. The curtains were held back and we saw a large sitting room, with elaborate carvings on the ceiling. It was a pretty room with comfortable sofas and chairs, and an imposing fireplace… It felt like home.

We moved away and walked forward, a small door, an arrow directed visitors to the left. We ignored it and pushed at the door, it was open. I looked up at Duke, he grinned at me, conspiratorially. We went in, a narrow, wooden staircase. Must be the staff ’s entrance, shall we go up?

Of course, he said, What else?

We climbed the stairs, a dark corridor with wooden panels on the wall. Then another narrow staircase, I stared around me curiously, a sense of depression filled me as I walked up these stairs, but he was close behind me, his presence reassuring. Another narrow, dark passage, at the end of which was a door.

Ahem someone came out of a room. An old, white haired lady in a grey skirt and blue jumper. Excuse me, but have you lost your group? I stared at her.

Not really. Duke replied, smiling at her. She smiled back at him.

You see… she said, hesitatingly, visitors are not allowed in this part of the house, she was a petite woman with startling blue eyes and a round, homely face.

We apologise, we will make our way out soon, we promise, he winked at her and leaned over me and opened the door ahead of us.

God bless you, she said, as we walked on. I looked back at her, she was standing there, looking intently at us, a strange something in her eyes. For a crazy moment, I felt like running up to her and giving her a hug. Duke took my elbow, come on, he urged, pushing me forward, and shutting the door behind us. I moved out into the landing, we found ourselves on a wide gallery that ran around this part of the house. Slightly dazed, I walked towards the balustrade and looked down. The main foyer of this house, a grand staircase lined with family portraits and a large front door. I leaned against a pillar, he stood next to me, looking down, his arms folded. We just stayed like that, the house was quiet, there seemed to be no one about. Red ropes cordoned off the staircase. We were definitely trespassing.

I looked up at Duke, then over my shoulder, towards the right. There they were, stairs leading up. I walked towards them. Duke turned but stood still, looking after me, an enigmatic expression on his face. I walked up the stairs, as if in a trance, then stood on the landing. Sure enough, three-four more steps, then I stood in front of a large door. I sighed, then, as if hypnotised, I placed my hand on the door-knob. A large hand covered mine, I turned and looked up at Duke’s face. I felt a deja-vu, this has happened before. We have stood like this together, before a door, in exactly this manner. I looked up at Duke, who was looking at the door.

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Her Grace, Lady Arabella, the Duchess of Northbury

He pushed it open, we both stepped in.

A suite of rooms in total neglect. Dust and cobwebs, faded upholstery and a musty smell. First a sitting room, then a large bedroom with a huge four-poster bed with a crest on it. We walked about the room, each lost in thought. My heart missed a beat, as I spotted the door to my left, slightly ajar. Without a thought, I walked in and stood absolutely still. Tears flooded my eyes as I looked at a large dresser with a heavy mirror on it. He had followed me into the room and was standing, looking into the mirror. I went up to him and we studied our reflection. My eyes moved towards the window seat, as I looked at it… I froze. I saw a man in a white shirt…A pale face, distinct brown eyes, long, dark, untidy hair, a woman in a white gown with dark, brown hair hanging about her shoulders, sitting together on the window seat, they reminded me of someone… us.

Oh God! I screamed, Look! I turned towards Duke. He had moved away and was standing in the doorway, both his hands on each side of the door, my knees felt weak as I looked at him. I fell down with a thud. He was besides me in a minute, holding me, soothing me. I held on to him, crying, as though my heart was breaking.

It is alright he whispered… It is over. No… No I cried, why?

Shhhh, let it go now, he said.

Oh, I wish I could I sobbed, little understanding what I meant, though he seemed to.

I did not want to leave that room, it was dirty and smelly but I clung to it. He had a lot of trouble persuading me to leave it. It was as if I feared I would lose him once I stepped out of this dressing room. I sat there, refusing to move, huddled on the window seat. In the end he physically carried me out and put me down on my feet outside the door to the suite of rooms. He shut it quietly behind us, then he took my hand and led me away, down the stairs to the gallery below, then down the grand staircase. Neither of us spoke, we were in perfect harmony with each other. It was an inexplicable experience, we were in it together, a silent bond growing between us every second. A woman walked by, she looked up, rather shocked to see us on the stairs.

Excuse me, you shouldn’t be here she said curtly.

Duke smiled at her, we seemed to have lost our way he said, conversationally. She was looking at my tear-stricken face, curiously.

Visitors are not allowed upstairs, how did you…?

We apologise, he said, totally in charge we were just leaving

She stood staring after us as we walked by her and up to the front door, I looked back at the house loathed to leave it, Duke put an arm about my waist and gently nudged me ahead. Come on, we must move on he whispered into my ear. I looked up at him.

We stood in the courtyard outside, a little lost for a moment.

Mum… Mum! Serena came running up to me. Where have you been? she scolded. I looked at her, as if for the first time. My daughter. I said to Duke,

She looks like you, he said, smiling at her. She was looking curiously at him, is that…? she said loudly, are you really… are you Duke? Here? Oh my God!

Anita and her daughter Tanya walked up to us, really, Arianna, you could have answered your phone she admonished me while looking at Duke from the corner of her eyes.

I am an old friend. We were catching up, lost track of time. I apologise for keeping her from you ladies. Duke said, politely. I think he realised I was in a state of shock.

Oh! said Anita, but aren’t you Duke? I am a huge fan! So is Tanya here! he shook hands with both of them.

Could we have a picture with you please? Asked Anita, always quick to seize the opportunity.

Sure he said, he held my arm as I was about to move away, they took their pictures. I stood next to Duke in a daze.

Anita nudged me, you sly thing how come you never told me you knew Duke? I cannot believe it! Luckily for us the house had been shut for the day and most visitors had left. The few that remained walked past us, many coming up for autographs and photographs. I stood by, looking at Duke, interacting with his fans, charming and gracious against the backdrop of Northdun, an unfathomable lump in my throat. At one point he looked up at me, our eyes met fleetingly, but I saw in his the answer to all the questions in my heart. In that moment I felt as if my soul was mysteriously bound to his. As if I would, somehow, never be free of him. He was a part of me as I was, of him.

Things happened very fast after that, he was like a hurricane, taking over my life completely. There is no time to lose he said, we have lost too much as it is. There were whispers and gossip around me but I pretended not to notice, being with Duke seemed to be the most natural thing for me. I must mention that my family was rather taken aback when I presented Duke to them, declaring my intention to marry a rockstar! We were not aware that you even knew him said my mother, are you quite sure? He was a public figure, he had three broken marriages behind him and a lot of things written about him in the media over the years, some not too complementary to him. You may find yourself out of your depth, they cautioned.

I know him, I said, simply.

We confessed things to each other that we had not dared to, to anyone else. My