The Duke's Alliance Book Two: A Dangerous Husband Read online

  'No thank you; the man's unconscious. I'll get my men to take him somewhere so I can interrogate him when he recovers his senses.' She was standing by his side and her ruined skirts were revealing far too much of her slender legs. He was about to suggest she retire and allow Humphries to find her something to wear when she gasped and swayed.

  His arm shot out and he caught her as she swooned. What had caused her sudden collapse after being so stalwart throughout the past five minutes? Then he saw a growing pool of blood spreading across the boards. His blow with the poker must have done more damage than he'd realised.

  With the girl senseless in his arms he strode down the room and shouldered his way out. He shouted for attention and two footmen appeared at a run. 'Here, take Lady Madeline, she has fainted. Put her in a guest room and let Lady Carshalton know she's needed. Her gown caught fire, but she's unhurt apart from the shock.' He passed her across to the more robust of the two and rushed back into the library shouting over his shoulder as he did so. 'Send his grace to me immediately.'

  He could apologise to the girl later for handing her over to his staff like an unwanted parcel, but now he had to do what he could to save the life of the assassin – he needed him alive if he was to find out who was behind these attacks.

  *

  Madeline recovered from her swoon as she was being carried along a passageway and for a moment was unable to focus her mind. Then shock at her position in the arms of a servant restored her. 'Put me down. I am perfectly well and able to walk on my own.' She was almost dropped such was the relief of the unwilling footmen given the task of conveying her away from the horrible scene in the library. 'I want to speak to the duke. Where is he?'

  The men exchanged worried glances and she was about to speak sharply when one of them looked at her skirts. Her cheeks suffused and she nodded. 'Direct me to a bedroom, but I still need to speak to the duke.'

  'I'll conduct you to a chamber, my lady, whilst Sid here fetches his grace.' The speaker pointed to a hidden stairwell. 'Up here, my lady, it will save going through the main part of the house.'

  She followed him in silence. Her thoughts were in turmoil. Someone had tried to kill her, she had almost been incinerated and then Lord Carshalton had grievously injured her attacker. What was going on at Heatherfield? First the gamekeeper had been shot and now this. The footman led her to a guest chamber and opened the door with a bow.

  'I shall fetch Mrs Humphries to you as soon as she's free.'

  He vanished leaving her alone in a prettily furnished sitting room. The needs of the injured came before hers and so she settled down on the padded window seat prepared to wait until her brother arrived. She wanted to go home, not to remain here and be given someone else's garments to wear. Lord Carshalton should have taken care of her himself. It was rag-mannered of him to hand her over so carelessly to a servant.

  This morning she had been bored and longing for some excitement, but having a knife thrown at her and then being almost incinerated wasn't what she'd had in mind. If she was honest she'd rather hoped to renew her brief acquaintance with the attractive man who had danced with her at the ball. Now she cordially disliked him. He was a violent and dangerous man and not a gentleman, for if he was he wouldn't have treated her so shabbily.

  A while later a footman arrived carrying a tray with her luncheon but there was still no sign of either the housekeeper or her brother. Her appetite had deserted her and she ignored the tray and then resumed her seat in the window embrasure.

  From this vantage point she could see across the park to the attractive woodland where the shooting incident had taken place. The intruder in the library and the wounding of the gamekeeper had to be linked, but why would she have been targeted? It made no sense. She had never visited Heatherfield before and was a mere acquaintance of Lord Carshalton.

  Had she been mistaken for someone else? The more she pondered the conundrum the less she understood it. The only person who could throw some light on this unpleasant business was Lord Carshalton himself and he was hardly likely to come up and explain. When Beau eventually came to find her she would get her answers from him.

  The time dragged and she paced the floor hoping someone, anyone, would come to explain what was happening downstairs. Until she had a cloak to cover her gown she couldn't leave this chamber and she'd been incarcerated for over two hours.

  Eventually there was the welcome sound of footsteps heading in her direction. Beau was coming at last. She ran to the door and flung it open to see Carshalton. Having the man she blamed for her situation in front of her was too much for her fragile control.

  'I could have been murdered and it's your fault. How could you abandon me to your staff like this? You are no gentleman and I intend to leave these premises immediately. Why has my brother not come to find me?'

  Instead of being offended by her tirade he merely smiled and gently pushed her back into the sitting room. 'Hush, child, there's no need to shout. I'm not in my dotage.'

  Being treated like a schoolroom miss was the outside of enough and she glared at him. 'Don't you dare patronise me, Carshalton, I'm no child and well you know it.' If she'd stopped there all might have been well but she was too incensed to think clearly. She raised her hand and poked him hard in the chest. It was like pushing at a wall. 'You didn't think me childish when you flirted with me a few weeks ago. I've been waiting for two hours for a cloak to put over my gown so that I can leave here – why hasn't one arrived?' This was accompanied by a second push.

  His eyes narrowed and his friendly smile vanished. 'That will do. Sit down and be quiet before I do something we will both regret.'

  She backed away hastily until she could positon herself behind a solid chair. Without the support of this her legs would have given way. Then she remembered he'd told her to sit but she was incapable of further movement.

  'I asked you to be seated. Was there some part of that instruction you failed to comprehend?' His tone was mild but there was steel in his words.

  Her fingers refused to release their grip and she was incapable of speech. To her horror unwanted tears trickled down her cheeks.

  His expression changed instantly to concern and he was at her side. 'Come, sweetheart, I didn't intend to make you cry.' He uncurled her fingers and with his arm around her waist carefully put her on the daybed. Then he wiped her tears away with his handkerchief. 'There, that's better. I'm a brute to issue orders as if you were a soldier in my corps. Can you forgive me?'

  She sniffed and the soft cloth was returned to her. She blew her nose and managed a weak smile. 'It's I who must beg your pardon. I should not…'

  'Enough, it's forgotten.' He folded his length onto the chair she'd been clutching and smiled. 'I'm afraid you will be even more annoyed with me when I tell you the duke has left on a mission for me. The carriage is waiting, so you can leave as soon as my housekeeper finds you something to cover your gown.'

  'Beau wouldn't depart without making sure I was unhurt.'

  'I told him you were all right and being taken care of. Therefore, there was no need for him to waste time visiting you when there was something more urgent for him to do.'

  Her wariness was replaced by anger at his abrupt and unhelpful remark. 'Since I arrived here this morning someone has tried to kill me and then I fell into the fire, and that's the best you can say? You’re despicable and I shall depart now – I don't care if I've no cloak. There's no one here whose opinion matters to me.'

  She scrambled to her feet and marched towards the door but he was quicker and his bulk prevented her escape. 'You shall leave soon, but not until I've told you what happened after you were brought here. Don't you want to know?'

  She retreated but didn't resume her seat. 'I'm waiting. Kindly get on with it as I'm not going to remain under your roof a moment longer than necessary.'

  *

  Grey wanted to shake some respect into the furious young lady who had the temerity to defy him. He clenched his fists and swallowed his
ire. 'The man in the library met his maker before I was able to interrogate him but I'm certain he was part of a plot to kill me.'

  She looked less than impressed with his words and he didn't blame her. Good God, the wretched girl was tapping her foot. 'You arrived inopportunely and the man attempted to kill you in order to stop you warning me he'd gained entry to Heatherfield.'

  'Is that it? I care not who is attempting to assassinate you, sir, but now I've been made part of this and so has my brother.'

  He prepared to explain why he believed he was being hunted but she raised a hand to prevent him speaking. 'I don't want to know anything else. The duke will tell me when he returns.' She tilted her nose in the air and pursed her lips. 'Am I allowed to leave or do you intend to add abduction to your list of sins?'

  He stepped to one side and bowed. He didn't trust himself to say anything polite. She sailed past him and as he watched her his anger changed to something far more dangerous. A wave of heat surged through him and there was an uncomfortable tightness in his breeches.

  The girl had piqued his interest by her rejection and he intended to demonstrate to her that he wasn't a man to turn down such a challenge. He had a moderate amount of success with the fairer sex – indeed was renowned amongst his peers for having some of the most attractive ladies on his arm.

  He had no intention of seducing the girl, that would be atrocious behaviour, but he wanted to demonstrate to her that he wasn't the villain she supposed he was. He would keep his lustful thoughts to himself but that was going to be dammed hard as, without doubt, she was both highly desirable and intelligent. This was a lethal combination in his experience.

  By the time he reached the entrance hall the carriage was pulling away. His charm campaign must wait until he met Lady Madeline again. Ned Bishop should make a full recovery in time, so the doctor had told him, which was a relief as the man was invaluable to him.

  Smith and Jenkins had returned from their search and were waiting to speak to him. He'd had refreshments sent to them so they would be content for a while yet. Before he could see them he must ensure that his grandmother and her friends had suffered no ill effects from the excitement of the morning.

  He found them in the small dining room where a cold collation had been laid out as usual.

  'Grey, my dear boy, I do hope you haven't upset Lady Madeline.'

  'No, Grandmamma, I haven't. I would say that she was enraged rather than upset.' He helped himself to a generous plateful and joined the ladies at the table.

  'I'm not surprised she was angry with you. She came for a pleasant visit and was almost burnt to a crisp and her lovely gown was quite ruined.'

  'A slight exaggeration, but you have the gist of it. I went upstairs intending to apologise and made a sad mull of it and only made matters worse. The fact that the duke agreed to assist me, and he left without talking to her, added to her annoyance.' He munched his way through several slices of succulent, home-bred ham before resuming the conversation.

  'When the dust has settled I shall visit Silchester Court and make amends.'

  'That's the least you can do, my boy, you must also replace her gown. We have been discussing this matter and know exactly what you must have made up for her – we've seen a perfect ensemble in the latest edition of La Belle Assemblée.'

  He put down his cutlery and looked around the circle of expectant faces. 'In which case, I shall leave it in your capable hands. How long will it take to make such a garment?'

  'I shall send word to my own mantua-maker today and she will send someone down with samples so we can choose the best material. We think that a Genoese satin would be ideal as muslin is too fine to be worn in the winter.'

  He raised a hand to stop her elaborating. 'I've no idea of what you speak, I'll leave it to your impeccable taste and have no wish to do more than pay the bill.'

  The conversation moved onto the latest on dits from Town and he hastily finished his food and made his farewells. The ladies didn't know the full extent of the incident in the library and he had no intention of informing them.

  The duke had needed no persuading to help when he'd seen the knife sticking in the panelling. Grey half-smiled when he recalled what Silchester had done when confronted with the cadaver. The duke had raised an eyebrow, nodded, then told him he was profoundly thankful that the man was already dead as that saved him the trouble of dispatching the villain himself.

  The door to the library was locked and the room would remain so until his own men had time to put things right. He set off to speak to Ned. Smith and Jenkins leapt to their feet and saluted when Grey walked in – old habits die hard. Ned nodded from his bed.

  'As you were, men, we've much to discuss. I take it you had no luck in the woods.'

  'No, sir, we found nothing useful. Whoever it was made good their escape without leaving any clues.' Smith scratched his head. 'We ain't happy about this, Major, some bugger's trying to do you in and he's got trained men to help him.'

  'The attempts began before I arrived here – in fact, whilst I was still a serving officer. It has to be related to my work for Lord Wellesley.'

  'I reckon as you're right, sir.' Bishop scowled. 'There must be something you learned when an intelligence officer what could ruin whoever's trying to top you.'

  'Sit down both of you. I should explain that most of the papers I carried from behind enemy lines were sealed. Once I'd delivered a verbal message I removed it from my memory.'

  They sat for a few minutes digesting this statement. Grey broke the silence. 'The duke's gone to speak to the militia and hopefully he can persuade their commanding officer to search the neighbourhood. It's a close-knit community here and any strangers would be noticed.'

  'I been thinking, sir, and reckon I might know why them varmints are after you,' Bishop told him.

  'Go on, I'm listening.'

  'Remember, a few months ago we had to go behind enemy lines and were almost captured?'

  'I do indeed, that was a damned close thing and the fact that we were betrayed by one of our own made things worse.'

  The men exchanged glances. 'It were that, sir, and them papers you brought were invaluable and gave our troops an advantage when we marched through Portugal.'

  'I'm sure you're right, however, I can't see that any of those events are relevant to what's happening now.'

  'Captain Rogers was executed soon after for treason, weren't he?'

  'Good God! You think this is revenge for that?' Grey leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes in order to collect his scattered thoughts. He had uncovered the traitor and Wellesley had done the rest. 'I know nothing of Rogers' family, but I do know that they were not informed he was executed, but that he'd lost his life in battle.'

  'I reckon somehow the true state of affairs got back to his kin and it's them that are seeking revenge.'

  'I believe between you that you might have solved the conundrum. The fact that a rifle was used to shoot you, Ned, makes this explanation even more plausible. Jenkins must go to London and visit Horse Guards. They will have the information we require.'

  'I've sent for half a dozen extra men, all served with me in the 95th – a bit long in the tooth but they'll be fine for what you want.'

  'Thank you, Smith, that's an excellent notion. A pity the man died before I could question him. I'm hopeful the knife might prove a means to identify him as the design on the hilt is unusual. I've sent it to Horse Guards by express in the hope that someone there might recognise it.'

  'Until you get a reply from London, sir, we'll be extra vigilant.'

  Chapter Three

  Madeline entered through the front door moments behind her brother. When he saw her he swore. 'God's teeth! Your gown is destroyed – I'd no idea how close a thing it had been.'

  She had been intending to castigate him for abandoning her but instead she flung herself into his arms. 'Someone threw a knife at me, I almost fell into the fire and if Lord Carshalton hadn't been there I would have burned.
'

  His arms closed around her and he hugged her tight. 'Sweetheart, I shouldn't have gone off without speaking to you first but the matter was urgent.' He looked around and stared at the two footmen who were gawping at them and they slunk away. 'Come, you cannot remain down here as you are. I'll accompany you to your apartment and we can talk freely there without you having to change immediately.'

  'No, Beau, I'll join you in the study shortly. I'd much prefer to change my gown and tidy up first.'

  Lottie was shocked but held her tongue and did her duty; soon Madeline was on her way to the study. Her brother had sent for coffee and cake – both of them preferred this aromatic brew to tea.

  'I expected you to be longer, sweetheart, but I'm glad you were not. I'll tell you everything I know about the incident and why I agreed to leave so precipitously.'

  Madeline collected a slice of plum cake, and cup of coffee, and placed it on a side table by the chair she intended to use. 'First tell me why you had to go to Heatherfield so urgently.'

  'Carshalton was an intelligence officer and before he resigned his commission two attempts were made on his life. He'd hoped that he would be safe on an estate that didn't previously belong to his family. However, as you're well aware, whoever is trying to assassinate him has discovered his whereabouts.'

  'I still don't see how that requires your assistance.'

  'He wants me to use my contacts in Town to discover if there are any rumours circulating about him or his family. My errand this morning was to contact the militia – again he thought my request would be taken more seriously than his as he's a comparative stranger in the neighbourhood.'

  'I must only suppose that whoever had broken into the library was startled by my appearance as I can't possibly be involved with this.'

  'I'm inclined to agree with you. Whatever the reason for the attacks, it's no business of ours. I've done as much as I'm prepared to and I don't want you visiting Heatherfield again.'