The Duke's Mysterious Lady Page 21

On his last night in York, as Hugh sat in his parlor nursing a brandy and thinking of Rosalind, someone knocked at the door.

  Peter opened it and Hugh turned to see a man in yeoman’s garb standing in the doorway.

  “Who is it, Peter?” Hugh said, annoyed. He wanted to be left to lick his wounds in peace.

  “Excuse me, Your Grace,” said the fellow, shuffling his feet. “I was hoping you may be able to help me. It’s about Merryville House. I watched you go there today when I was hiding in the woods.”

  Now why would the fellow hide? Hugh’s interest was piqued. “Come in. Sit by the fire. Peter, pour the man a brandy.”

  The young man in his rough yeoman’s clothes perched on the edge of the chair looking uncertain how to proceed.

  Hugh nodded at him. “What is your name, my good fellow?”

  “Simon Lease, Y’grace. I’ve come about Jim. He’s my brother.”

  “Your brother, Jim.” Hugh nodded encouragingly. “Yes?”

  “‘Jim’s worked up at Merryville House for some years, Y’grace. Looks after the horses. Very good with horses, he be.”

  It was like pulling teeth. Hugh shifted in his seat finding it hard to keep his patience.

  “And?”

  “Jim has disappeared, you see.”

  Hugh leaned forward. “Tell me all, my man. Start from the beginning.”

  “Some weeks ago it is now; Jim came to me saying he knew of a lady in great trouble. He wanted to help her run away to London.”

  Hugh gripped the arms of his chair. “And the lady?”

  “The lady of Merryville House, where Jim worked, Y’grace.

  Jim was going to help her ladyship run away from her relative. According to Jim, he’s an evil man.”

  “The deuce! What happened to Lady Rosalind? Quick, man!”

  “When Jim brought her to me, I took her to an inn. She left on the mail coach for London the next morning.”

  “Are you sure she left York?”

  “Yes, Y’grace. I spoke to the innkeeper.”

  “Where did she plan to go?”

  “I don’t know that, Y’grace.” Simon gave his cap a wringing.

  “Her ladyship didn’t tell us. Said it would go better for us if we didn’t know.”

  Worry assailed Hugh afresh. Had Rosalind reached her destination safely? “Your brother has since disappeared, you say?”

  “I haven’t seen ’ide nor ’air of him since he returned to Merryville House. I fear for him, Y’grace. I really do.”

  “What has Merryville to say of this?”

  “He doesn’t know so he says. But he’s lying. Jim told me the marriage was a sham, that the preacher was a no-good,” Simon said. “Forced into it she was, before her father was laid in the ground.”

  “You’re sure of this?”

  “I am, Y’grace.”

  Why hadn’t Rosalind come to him for help? There was so much he wanted to ask her. Where was she?

  As anger heated through him like poison, Hugh slammed the glass down so hard it broke. He wanted to run Merryville through with his sword. “I need more on this man, Rupert

  Merryville.”

  “Merryville is the lady’s first cousin. He’s spent a lot of time at Merryville House over the years, since he was a small lad. Thinks of the place as his own from what I gather. He keeps bad company these days. When he ill-treated Lady Rosalind’s favorite mare, Jim brought the horse to me to keep safe.”

  Hugh jumped up. Rosalind would want him to do something about this. He turned to Simon, who stood, clutching his hat. “Do you know the Merryville estate well?”

  “I’ve helped Jim out there over the years, when he needed an extra hand at foaling time.”

  “Do you have any idea where Merryville might keep your brother, should he be held there?”

  Simon rubbed his brow. “If they have him in the house, I can’t help, for I’ve never been inside. There are the stables but that’s unlikely. Some old sheds on the grounds are not used much, but for storage of extra hay and the like.”

  Hugh took his pistol out of its case and loaded it. “Take your trap. We’ll search there at first light.” He shook his head at Peter who had stepped closer, looking hopeful of some action. “No, Peter. You are not coming,”

  “But, Your Grace,” argued Peter. “You will need someone to stay with the horses!”

  Hugh reluctantly accepted the common sense of this argument. “Very well. As long as you do stay with the horses.”

  *****

  At dawn, Hugh rode while Simon and Peter drove to Merryville House in Simon’s trap.

  Hugh left a note for the others, informing them that business would concern him for most of the day, and he would see them in the afternoon. He was sure Felicity wouldn’t emerge from her room until close to noon.

  The gates were closed today. Peter jumped down to open them.

  The approach through the woods shielded them from the house. Before they reached the final bend in the road, Hugh instructed Simon to drive the trap in amongst the trees. He dismounted. “Remain here, Peter,” he said to his young servant, “until I call for you.”

  Hugh stole through the woods following Simon, his eyes fixed on the smoke rising from the chimneys. Simon described the layout of the grounds and the best way to reach the two sheds unseen.

  They burst out of the woods bent double at a run and took cover in the orchard. Hugh gripped his pistol, wondering what they would find.

  Keeping low, they crept up to the window of the first of the shingle huts. Only saddles, traces, and bags of feed were inside.

  With a nod to the man beside him, Hugh moved on. The grounds were silent save for the twitter of birds and the whickering horses. Thorns grabbed at Hugh’s coat as he brushed by wild roses climbing rampant over a wall.

  Roses like the one Rosalind carried by the river at Vale Park that first day. He was swamped by fear and a sense of powerlessness. It nearly robbed him of breath. He had to find her. But first, he would deal with these vermin.

  Approaching the second shed, they peered through the window thick with cobwebs and dust. Hugh rubbed at the glass.

  “He’s in there,” Hugh murmured, wondering if the prostrate man lying deathly still on a pile of sacks was still alive.

  “Jim!” Simon cursed.

  “Keep watch,” Hugh whispered, removing the heavy piece of wood that jammed the door shut. Hugh pushed it open, relieved the door’s rusty hinges didn’t make the devil of a noise. He motioned for Simon to go in.

  Simon fell to his knees. “Jim! It’s me. I have the Duke of Vale here with me.”

  After receiving a non-too gentle shake, Jim came round. He rolled over and stared at them, rubbing his eyes. Dried blood was smeared over his brow and his face appeared greenish-white in the gloom.

  “It would seem we are just in time,” Hugh said. He put his arm around the sagging man’s shoulder as he tried to stand.

  “Your brother will take you straight to a surgeon, Jim. But first, tell me about your captors. Do you expect them to bring you food?”

  Jim looked up at the angle of the sun, wincing in the light.

  “They have been feeding me, so I expect they’ll bring me breakfast soon,” he said. “Can’t decide what to do with me.” Despite being barely able to hold up his head, he grinned. “Won’t they be surprised to find me gone?”

  After Simon half-carried Jim back to the trap, Hugh molded a pile of dried leaves into the shape of a body and covered it with the horse blanket. He barred the door and moved back into the cover of trees to wait.

  He was considering forcing his way through the front door, but Jim had told him of the two nasty customers Merryville kept in his employ. Surprise seemed the best plan of attack. He hoped one man would bring Jim’s breakfast, but if there were two, he’d deal with them. He was so angry, he was more than happy to fill them full of lead.

  An hour passed before boots crunched through the undergrowth. Preparing to take the man b
y surprise, he rose from his hiding place to steal a look, then uttered a muffled curse.

  “Peter, what the deuce are you doing here?”

  “I worried that you might need my help, Your Grace,” Peter whispered. “Simon’s taken Jim off in the trap, and as you didn’t instruct me to go with them, I thought it better to come find you.”

  “You have a devil of way of twisting my orders to suit yourself, young Peter. Well, you’re here now, but no heroics, understand? These men are murderous rascals. I’m surprised Jim is still alive.”

  A grin split Peter’s face. “Right you are, Your Grace.”

  “Keep behind me, and for the lord’s sake, follow my orders implicitly.”

  “I will, Your Grace.”

  Hugh silenced Peter with his hand. Two men walked down the path from the house. Hugh cocked his pistol. One of the men carried a mug and bowl on a tray. The smaller man opened the shed door and went inside, the larger man following with the tray.

  Hugh ran to the door and put his foot on the big man’s behind, giving him a hefty nudge. Taken by surprise, the man fell forward, sending the tray flying and spreading gruel over the small man. It knocked the air out of him for he spluttered and cursed.

  Hugh slammed the door shut and slid the wooden baton into place. The men yelled and banged. Hugh waited to see if there was a reaction to their calls, but no one appeared to investigate.

  He and Peter were halfway to the house when a crash sounded as the men smashed the shed’s windowpane. It would be impossible for even the smaller one to climb through it, but their voices carried further on the air.

  “Time to tackle Merryville,” Hugh said, when they reached the driveway. “Wait for me here and keep out of sight.”

  Despite the urgency of his mission, Hugh acknowledged the estate’s rustic charm. Rosalind had grown up here. It explained so much about the woman he’d come to love. He marched over the gravel drive, mounted the porch and seized the knocker. A wizened butler opened the door.

  “Duke of Vale, here to see Lord Merryville. Hurry, man.”

  The flustered butler went to announce him, but Hugh passed him on the stairs.

  In the drawing room, Rupert shot up from his chair. “Why didn’t you announce him, you fool?” he growled.

  “The Duke of Vale,” the butler said in a quavering tone and backed out of the room.

  “As you see, Your Grace, it is difficult to get decent help in the country.” Rupert pointed to a chair. “Please, won’t you sit?”

  Hugh strode across the room and grabbed Rupert by the cravat twisting it until Rupert’s face went beetroot red. His hands flailed uselessly in an attempt to stop him and he began to drag in breaths.

  Hugh released him. Then he punched Rupert in the face.

  The slim man fell back in his chair clutching his nose, blood spilling over his fingers. “You nearly killed me!”

  Hugh stood over him, legs apart, fists clenched. “That was for Jim. I’ve learned of your ill-treatment of Lady Rosalind. I intend to call you out for that.”

  “I wouldn’t advise you do, Vale.” Rupert took out a linen handkerchief and held it to his nose. “I doubt Rosie would like it if you killed me. We are cousins, you know.”

  Hugh took out his pistol and cocked it. He leveled it at Rupert’s heart. “Tell me where she is. Now. Or I’ll put a ball in your head and splatter your brains all over that nice chair.”

  “She is in London with her aunt.” Rupert held up his hands. “My, my, Vale. Such spleen. Come back when my wife is here to set you straight.”

  Hugh leaned over and prodded his chest with the gun. “She is not your wife. And she never wished to be.”

  Rupert’s bright green eyes widened. “I have told you her whereabouts.” climbed to his feet, gingerly feeling his nose. “Kindly leave my house, or I’ll have my men deal with you. They are not so polite.”

  “Give me your assurance Rosalind has no more to fear from you.”

  Rupert huffed out a laugh. “What is she to you, eh? Had your eye on her for a mistress, did you?”

  Hugh’s jaw tightened. His guilt held him back from drawing Rupert’s cork again. “I am within a whisker of calling you out, sir.”

  Rupert apparently noted the fiery rage burning in Hugh’s eyes and took a step back.

  “There’s no need to be so hasty, Vale. I’m sure you are an expert with both sword and pistol. It would prove an unbalanced affair. I confess I’ve lived an idle life.”

  Disgusted, Hugh swiveled on his heel. He stopped at the door. “By the way, I’ve relieved you of your captive. It goes without saying you shall not accost him again.”

  When it became obvious Hugh was leaving, Rupert straightened his cravat. “Could you tell me then, if you please, what you have done with my men?”

  Hugh left him to discover it for himself. He stomped across the grounds desperate to deal with the snake properly, but he needed to have Rosalind’s view on that first. Peter ran alongside him as they loped down the driveway.

  Simon appeared driving the trap. Hugh mounted his horse, and leaving the two men to follow, galloped back to York, wishing he could be sure that Rosalind was safe. He prayed that she was with her aunt in London.

  Frustration coiled within him tightening his belly. Before he could even begin to look for her, he had to return Felicity to the bosom of her family.

  Chapter Thirty

  As was planned, first thing Saturday morning, Rosie left for York with Aunt Rebecca. It was a warm day and the London parks were lush and green and filled with strolling couples reveling in the spell of warm weather.

  Rosie could take no joy in it. She rested her head against the squabs, frightened by what awaited her in York.

  “I want to stop in Vale Park Village, Aunt,” she said. “We can have luncheon there while we take on a new team.”

  “Someone you’re hoping to see?” Aunt Rebecca asked with a smirk.

  “Yes, my dressmaker, Sophie. I want to give her some up-to-date fashion magazines. She is far too skilled to be shut away in the country.”

  Rosie was eager to tell Sophie that the ball gown she had made for the Vale Park ball had not been equaled in fit or style by any of those fashioned in London.

  *****

  At Vale Park Village, her visit with Sophie at an end, Rosie waited for her aunt to enter the coach. As she waved goodbye to the Frenchwoman, a tall figure strode across the village green.

  Hugh!

  Her knees weakened and her heart pounded. As he drew closer, she tried to read his expression.

  His eyes blazed down into hers. “Lady Rosalind,” he said huskily, as he kissed her hand. “Am I dreaming?”

  “Your Grace,” she forced her knees into a curtsey, wondering if he thought she’d come for a glimpse of him. “I have just called on my seamstress. We planned to take luncheon at the inn here. My aunt and I are on our way to York.”

  He raised a dark brow. “Indeed?”

  “What’s the delay, Rosalind?” Aunt Rebecca thrust her head out of the coach door. “Oh, how do you do, Your Grace.” Her glance flicked back between Rosie and Hugh. “What a fortunate circumstance.”

  Hugh bowed to her aunt “Most fortunate, Lady Redcliffe.”

  “I hope you and Her Grace are well?” Aunt Rebecca asked.

  “My sister and I are in good health, thank you.”

  Rosie’s cheeks heated and she couldn’t meet Hugh’s gaze as he sought to search her eyes.

  “I meant your wife, Your Grace,” her disgraceful aunt persisted. “Have you not been recently married?”

  “I have not, Lady Redcliffe. I would be delighted should you break your journey at Vale Park.”

  “Thank you, most kind of you.” With that, her aunt withdrew her head and settled back on the squabs.

  Hugh took Rosie’s arm in a determined grip. “We have much to talk about you and me,” he said in an undertone. “Allow me to assist you into your coach.”

  Hugh shut the doo
r. “Drive on to Vale Park,” he instructed the coachman.

  As the coach rolled down the road toward the gates of Vale Park, Aunt Rebecca’s blue eyes twinkled. “I told you,” she said in a satisfied voice. “I knew it.”

  “You knew what exactly, Aunt?” Rosie asked distractedly, biting her bottom lip. “His Grace looks very well, don’t you think?”

  “Ha,” her aunt said, and nodded.

  “I can’t make any sense out of you at all,” Rosie said crossly.

  She gazed out the window at the man riding ahead. He was so handsome, she could hardly breathe.

  When their carriage reached the house, Hugh assisted them from the vehicle. “We’ll take luncheon in the dining room,” he instructed Porter.

  ****

  Hugh had so much to tell Rosalind, but could say little as they ate.

  When the meal was over, however, Aunt Rebecca claimed the need of a refreshing nap.

  “I wish to show you something at the stables,” Hugh said, taking Rosalind’s arm.

  She glanced at him curiously.

  They left the house and began to walk along the gravel drive.

  “You and Lady Felicity are not yet married?” she asked him.

  “Lady Felicity is now wed to another,” he said with a smile.

  Rosalind’s eyes widened. “How extraordinary.”

  “It appears that many wish to marry for love, nowadays.”

  “Not prosperous families with an eye to increasing their wealth, I imagine.”

  “No, it wasn’t easy to persuade Felicity’s father to agree to her marriage to a second son. It helped when I offered to gift him two hundred acres of Vale Park land.”

  She searched his eyes. “You are not unhappy?”

  He took her by the shoulders and swung her around to face him. “No. I wish to marry for love too.”

  “You do?” she whispered.

  “Did I not tell you precisely that in the woods the night we made love? Or have you forgotten?”

  She sighed. “I remember every minute of the night.”

  “Why didn’t you turn to me for help?”

  “I refused to bring scandal down on your head. I still do.”

  “My foolish love.” He pulled her close and took her mouth in a heated kiss.