My Savage Lord (Hidden Identity)

by Colleen French

  "And when I call for my horse," Duncan went on at the top of his lungs, "I mean for the horse to be saddled now. Not tomorrow, not come Candlemas Eve! Do I make myself unconditionally clear?"

  The footman was bobbing his head in obvious terror, his Adam's apple rising and falling in his throat.

  Jillian glided smoothly past her husband. "Go then, Maurice." She shooed him with her hand. "See to the earl's horse at once."

  She waited until the footman had disappeared before she turned her attention to her husband. "Is it really necessary to shout at the servants like that, Duncan? You make them afraid of you."

  His face was red with anger. "Is it too much for a man to ask to have his horse ready when he orders it?"

  "Certainly not, but that's still no reason to lose your temper." She dropped her hand to her hip, hating that in public she had to speak to her husband through that ridiculous veil of his. She had tried to convince him that it was time to shed it, but he refused; worse, he refused to even discuss the matter with her.

  He pointed his finger at her. "If the men and women we hire cannot do their jobs, then they need to seek employment elsewhere!"

  She grabbed his accusing finger, trying to make light of the whole situation. "And where is it that you go in such a hurry? The king called for you, perhaps?"

  He scowled, pulling his hand from her. "Banstead Downs."

  "It's life and death that you make a bet at the horse races? I didn't even know they raced this time of year."

  He didn't meet her gaze. "I seek Galloway. He's there purchasing some horses."

  The tone in his voice set something off in Jillian's head. Something was wrong. Very wrong. "Will? Why are you looking for Will?"

  He didn't answer.

  "Duncan?" She rested her hand on his shoulder, making him face her.

  "I've gone over and over in my head whom I might have told where I was going the other day." His words didn't come easily.

  "And?"

  "And the only ones who knew—" He balled his fist. "—who knew, were you and Galloway."

  She watched his face. "Will would never harm you."

  "No one else knew but the two of you, and you have nothing to gain, and much to lose, if I die. You'll inherit none of my acquisitions, nor privileges, unless you provide an heir."

  "What if I were pregnant?" She didn't know what made her ask. Obviously he didn't suspect her.

  "Then you will be well provided for." He smiled grimly, gripping her shoulder. "I have to go, Jillian."

  "I'll go with you," she offered anxiously. She hated to see him go alone, so angry. She feared for Will's well-being. "I know Will had nothing to do with this. I know it."

  He started for the front door. "No. You stay here where it's warm. This is between Will and me if he's betrayed me. You're not involved."

  Jillian followed him out the door onto the front stoop. It had been repaired only last week by the masons. The wind whipped at her hair and she lifted her hood, shivering. As Duncan caught his horse's reins from the stable boy and swung into his saddle, she saw his pistol tucked into the waistband of his breeches. She was truly frightened. "Duncan!" she shouted above the howl of the wind. "You can't go off half cocked like this! Please let me go with you!"

  He sank his heels into the horse's flanks, and his mount reared and bolted.

  Jillian whipped around, furious with Duncan, furious with herself for not being able to stop him. Her hand had just touched the doorknob when she turned back. "Maurice!" she called to the retreating stable hand.

  He turned back. "My lady?"

  "Saddle a horse for me."

  "My lady?"

  "You've been chastised once today for not getting a horse quickly enough. Don't repeat your mistakes," she snapped. "Saddle a horse for me. I'm going up to my apartments to get a heavier cloak. I want my horse here when I come down. Is that clear?"

  He gave a jerky bow. "Yes, my lady."

  Jillian raced back up the steps. If she couldn't stop Duncan from confronting Will in his anger, at least she could be there when he did.

  Fourteen

  Jillian calculated that, escorted by a groom, she had reached Banstead Downs not five minutes later than Duncan. So where was he? She tugged her mount's reins, and the horse shied, prancing sideways.

  It had begun to sleet. Snow mixed with freezing rain fell, the white haze reducing her visibility. She yanked at the hood of her ermine-lined cloak, pulling it off her head to get a better view of the deserted field. She ignored the wet sleet that stung her face. Some of her hair had come unpinned and whipped in the wind; she smoothed it irritably. "Where the blast are you, Duncan?" she murmured, keeping a steady hand on the reins.

  Then she heard a voice carrying on the wind—an angry voice. It was the same voice she had heard in the hallway at Breckenridge House only a short time ago.

  "Duncan?" She turned her horse around in a tight circle.

  There in the distance she saw a group of men and horses. But even at this range, Jillian could make out her husband's form as he narrowed the gap between himself and the men standing with the horses.

  Jillian urged her mount into a trot, headed directly for Duncan, who'd left his horse standing near a thicket of leafless trees.

  "Duncan!" she called into the howl of the wind. She watched as a man broke from the group and started toward him with a wave of greeting. It had to be Will.

  "Duncan!" she shouted again. She rode her horse right between the two friends, her groom close at her heels.

  Duncan turned his angry gaze on her. "Jillian, what the hell are you doing here?"

  She put out her hand to Will, and he helped her down from her sidesaddle. The groom caught the reins of her mount and discreetly led it away.

  "Answer me, wife. Why have you come?" Duncan shouted at her. "I told you this was between Galloway and me."

  Out of the corner of her eye, Jillian could see the other men in the group turn their heads, hoping to pick up part of the private conversation among the Earl of Cleaves, his wife, and Will Galloway.

  Jillian took Will's hand in her gloved one and led him farther from the prying eyes and ears of the horse traders.

  Duncan was left with no choice but to stomp after them. "Answer me, damn you! I told you to stay home! I told you this was not your concern!"

  Will looked utterly perplexed. "What's he talking about, Jilly?" He looked at Duncan. "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "New Forest." Duncan shoved his black wool cloak off his shoulders so that it rippled and snapped in the wind behind him. He seemed unaffected by the frigid wind and falling sleet.

  Will's brow creased. "New Forest?" He looked to Jillian for understanding. "What the sweet hell's gotten into him?"

  Jillian took Duncan's arm, trying another tack. "Let's go somewhere and have a drink. Somewhere in private where we can discuss this calmly."

  Duncan pushed her off his arm. "Go home, wife. Where you belong."

  She dropped her hands to her hips. "The hell I will!"

  Both men looked at her, surprised by her reaction.

  "I won't go home and let the two of you get into some damned duel!" she shouted into her husband's face. "I won't do it."

  "Duel? What are you talking about?" Will looked at Jillian, then his longtime friend. "Duncan, I'm lost here." He plucked at his chin, still apparently not understanding the seriousness of Duncan's anger. "Why are we going to duel?"

  "New Forest, what do you know of it?" Duncan's tone was as cold and biting at the sleet that now fell in daggered sheets from the darkening sky.

  "Good hunting. You've a lodge there." Will turned his palms heavenward. He was wearing a fine pair of black, calfskin gloves. "What else should I know?"

  "You knew I was going to my lodge yesterday."

  "Yes. So?"

  "Please," Jillian begged. "Not here. Let's go home; it's freezing out here. A little brandywine would do us all some good."

  "Go home, Jillian." Dun
can spoke through clenched teeth, never taking his eyes from Will's. "You were the only one who knew," he told his friend. "You and my wife, and she would have no reason to make an attempt on my life."

  "Attempt on your life?" Will seemed genuinely baffled, then greatly concerned. "Someone tried to kill you, again? "

  "Again?" Duncan's eye, unobscured by the purple veil, glinted. "What do you mean again?"

  "Well, you said yourself that whole scaffolding incident was odd. We talked about the possibility that someone might have it in for you."

  "Odd? Odd how?" Jillian attempted to interrupt.

  Duncan was either ignoring her or didn't hear her to begin with. "And what do you know of that, Will? Did the scaffold collapse by accident, conveniently, just as I went up the stairs?"

  Will looked at Jillian as if to ask if Duncan were in earnest.

  Jillian placed a hand on Will's shoulder. "An archer tried to shoot Duncan on his own land in New Forest yesterday."

  "I can speak for myself!" Duncan bellowed.

  Will was attempting to follow the conversation. "A freak accident?"

  She shook her head. "He doesn't think so. He had to kill the man."

  "Jillian, stay out of this," Duncan ordered. "I don't need you here protecting me. I don't want you here, damn it!"

  "Why would I want to kill you?" Galloway asked, now seeming hurt. "You're the best friend I've got in the world, Duncan. My only true friend. I'd die for you or yours." He offered his hand. "You know that."

  With his fist, Duncan hit the hand Will extended with a viciousness that frightened Jillian. "You were the only one who knew! You betrayed me, you son of a bitching whore!"

  "Listen to yourself!" Now Will was shouting. "You're being irrational. Why in sweet Charles' name would I try to kill you?"

  Duncan grabbed Will by his cloak with both hands, knocking him backward a step. "How the hell should I know?"

  "Duncan!" Jillian intoned, refusing to become an hysterical wife. She thrust her arm between the two men. "Take your hands off him!"

  "I wouldn't betray you. I wouldn't," Will said gently, but firmly, his gaze locked on Duncan's. "I'm not her. I wouldn't do that."

  Who was Will talking about? Jillian sensed that there was something more here than met the eye, something she didn't understand. Will was right; Duncan wasn't behaving rationally.

  Jillian's mind ticked. Wasn't it the thought of betrayal that had set Duncan off when she had met with Jacob? That and his thought that she was abandoning him?

  "Duncan, listen to me," Will reasoned. "Think. There would be no reason for me to kill you. I could gain nothing. You had to have told someone else. Someone on the ship, at court, in a tavern."

  Duncan shook his head adamantly. "No . . . no. Only you and Jillian knew."

  Suddenly, Will paled visibly. His gaze shifted to the slick, icy grass at their feet. "Sweet Jesus."

  "What?" Duncan demanded. "Galloway?"

  Slowly, painfully, Will lifted his gaze to meet his friend's. "I may have told someone where you were going." He raised a hand weakly. "Just in passing, just in conversation."

  "Who?"

  Jillian sensed the answer before he spoke the name.

  "Who?" Duncan repeated, still gripping Will by his cloak. "Tell me, damn you!"

  Jillian could have sworn she saw tears in Will's eyes. "Algernon."

  "Algernon?" Duncan let Will go so abruptly that he stumbled backward, barely catching himself before he would have fallen. "Where the hell did you see Algernon? What are you doing conversing with him? You hate the sniveling son of a bitch, you said so yourself."

  Will looked past Duncan, past Jillian, to somewhere in the distance, his eyes losing focus. "Let's go somewhere and talk. I've something to tell you." His voice cracked. "Something to confess."

  Duncan hesitated. Jillian could tell by the look on his face that he wanted it out now. He wanted to hear what Will had to say here, here in the driving sleet.

  She touched his arm gently. "Will's right. This conversation shouldn't be shared with these gentlemen." She motioned to the men standing in the distance with their horses. They were far enough away that Jillian knew they couldn't have heard the conversation, but certainly close enough to realize there'd been a confrontation between the earl and his friend. As it was, every anteroom in London would be buzzing with defamation and speculation by nightfall. The gossips needed no more fuel to feed their fires.

  When Duncan didn't answer at once, she squeezed his arm, praying she'd somehow gotten through. "Please, Duncan. For me."

  He loosened his stance. "Now, Galloway. Today. I'll not put this off."

  "I'll come to your house. Just let me get my horse."

  Jillian had never seen a man look so beaten.

  "Not my house," her husband denounced. "You'll not step foot in my house."

  "Sweet, Jesus, Duncan," Will swore. "All right then, my apartments."

  Duncan shook his head stubbornly.

  Jillian fought the urge to roll her eyes. Duncan was just being childish now. "The Three Cocks in half an hour," she said, settling the matter as she signaled to her groom to bring both her horse and his master's. "We could all use a libation, wouldn't you say?"

  Will rode off immediately. Jillian and Duncan mounted their horses and headed in the direction of the designated tavern.

  The moment Jillian rode up beside her husband, he turned to her angrily. "I want you to go home now."

  She raised the hood of her cloak. It was bitter on horseback, and the sleet was still falling. Jillian wasn't accustomed to riding in bad weather; already the road was beginning to turn to icy mud. She had to concentrate to keep her seat as her mount slipped and slid in the frozen muck.

  "I'm not going home."

  "You're my wife. The law says you must obey me."

  She set her jaw. "So what are you going to do?" She was angry now. "Are you going to wrestle me off this horse, tie me to yours, and take me home?" She tightened up on the reins, riding around a deep puddle covered by skim ice. "You could slap me around. Perhaps that would work."

  "I would never hit you," he grunted, staring straight ahead into the wind, "though I'm sorely tempted now."

  "Will's the best friend you've got." She urged her horse forward so that they rode side by side again. "By my calculation, he's the only friend you've got."

  "He told Algernon where I'd gone. I suspected my dear cousin. I didn't want to believe he'd be so stupid, but I suspected. Now I find out my friend is in league with him."

  "You don't know that."

  "That slimy bastard, Algernon." Duncan put out a gloved hand and slowly closed it as if choking a man. "I'll kill him. I swear by all that's holy I will! And Galloway may well go to his reward in the same breath."

  "Just hear Will out and stop jumping to conclusions. He's always been honest with you, you told me so yourself."

  "Honest with me?" He gave a snort of derision. "He and Algernon have been in on this little game since I arrived, I'd suspect. With me out of the way, Algernon gets the title, monies, and holdings in England and Galloway gets my land in Maryland." He clenched his fist, swinging it in the air. "I knew I should never have trusted him. Either of them. Damn it! Why did I try to be reasonable with Algernon? Why did I try to be fair?"

  Recognizing that she could do nothing at this point but try to keep anyone from being injured, Jillian listened to Duncan's ranting the remainder of the ride to the Twin Cocks.

  When Jillian and Duncan arrived at the tavern, they went straight upstairs to the private room they had shared with Will only a few nights ago. He was already waiting for them, seated at the table, a drink in his hand.

  Jillian removed her gloves, then her wet cloak, and moved to the fireplace to warm her chilled bones. Duncan stayed near the door, as if he didn't intend on remaining long.

  "Well, Galloway?" Duncan's voice rang off the plastered walls.

  Will peered into his brandy glass. "I didn't do it on purpose, Du
ncan. I've been careful not to speak of you or your doings to him."

  "The two of you conspired against me!"

  "No." Will shook his head. "I can only speak for myself, but I swear by my father's grave that I had nothing to do with the attempt or attempts on your life."

  "What were you doing, if not conspiring with him, then? Answer me that, Galloway."

  Jillian watched the men closely. Her heart ached for them both.

  "I . . ." Will hesitated. "My only sin, friend, was that of fornication." He glanced at Jillian, tears in his eyes. "My apologies, my lady."

  Jillian smiled. She would have gone to Will, but she feared Duncan would see that action, too, as a betrayal.

  "Fornication?" Duncan boomed. "What are you talking about? Speak plainly, man. I'll not stand here all day."

  Will exhaled. Then he turned his head to meet Duncan's hostile gaze. "I did not conspire with your cousin, I only slept with him."

  Jillian knew her jaw must have dropped. Will? Have sex with another man? Certainly she had heard of such debauchery, whispered by servants in the shadows, but she had assumed such men were monsters. Will couldn't possibly be one of them.

  Jillian covered her mouth with her hand, feeling tears well in her eyes.

  Duncan remained frozen beside the doorjamb, stunned. "No, Will," Jillian heard him whisper. "I—I've seen you with women. Whores."

  "Women yes, but men, too." Will came out of his chair, taking a step toward his friend. "I never meant to harm you, even inadvertently. That was why I kept my, um, appetite from you."

  Duncan was shaking his head. "But not Algernon. Not my cousin."

  "I can make no excuses for myself, but you must believe me when I tell you I had nothing to do with what transpired at New Forest. I know nothing of any attempts on your life, though I wonder now why I'd never considered it. Algernon's been babbling for months about what was rightfully his."

  "You said you disliked him." Duncan spoke flatly. "You barely spoke to him when he entered the room."

  "I can't explain it to you." Will lifted his hand toward Duncan, then let it fall with futility. "I do dislike him. It was a physical relationship, like many others. Nothing more. You have to believe me."