Loving Tales of Lords and Ladies

by Abigail Agar

  Jules laughed. “I am glad to be home, Leander. Just have the cook put on a kettle of tea, and I shall have whatever is left in the kitchen.”

  “Nonsense. You need your strength. I shall ensure that she makes you a full breakfast.” Leander looked absolutely indignant at the very idea of Jules eating leftovers, and Jules could not stop his smile. He simply nodded as he knew that Leander would not stand for anything else, and it would save time to simply agree.

  Leander hastily went to open the door for Jules. Jules nodded and walked over to Leander. “Meet me in my room once you have located the letter.”

  “I shall do so, Your Grace.” Leander nodded crisply and followed Jules into the hallway. Jules turned his sights towards the stairs as Leander headed for his own quarters which were in the attached house towards the rear of the property. Leander’s footsteps stalled for a moment behind Jules. “Are you certain you do not need assistance going up the stairs, Your Grace?”

  Jules lifted his hand as he walked away from the man with the aid of his cane. “I can manage just fine. Thank you, Leander.” Jules heard the man’s footfalls moving away down the hall and sighed.

  The warm glow of candles on the wall made Jules notice the golden sparkle in the swirls on the wall covering behind the flickering flame. Jules’ face fell as he remembered how his mother had been so excited on the day the covering had been put into place. Pressing his lips together, Jules moved on towards the stairs seeking to keep both his eyes and his mind on what was directly in front of him.

  Jules’ houses both here and in the country were full of ghosts. Everywhere he looked he heard faint echoes of days long gone. Sometimes he listened intently, eager not to forget the tone and quality of his parents’ voices, and other times Jules could not bear the hollow reminder that they were gone. His hand lay upon the banister that his father had held when telling him to take care, his mother chiding his father to let Jules be.

  With a sigh, Jules shook his head at the ghosts and carried on upstairs. He would feel better after a bath. He would feel more himself in new clothing. Perhaps he would even feel capable of facing another day searching for truth.

  Chapter 9

  When the knock finally came on Jules’ door that afternoon, he whisked it open startling Leander who waited on the other side. Jules ushered the man in. “What took you so long? The afternoon drags by, and I had thought to go looking for you.”

  “Forgive me, Your Grace, but the letter had been moved,” Leander whispered as he shut the door firmly. He turned around and looked Jules in the eye as he spoke. “I fear that forces within this very house may be working against you.”

  Jules frowned as he took the letter from Leander. “Why would they hide it if they sent it to me?”

  “Perhaps they thought the better of it,” Leander said with a shrug. “I know where I left it, Your Grace, and it was moved, I tell you.”

  Jules pulled the letter from its envelope. “Why is the paper so warm?”

  “I found it near a hearth in the kitchen.” Leander paced. “I can only assume they were going to burn it. I fetched it straight out and came here with it.”

  Jules took a deep breath as he read the dire warning. “They must have seen me with Lady Withersfield and her mother. Look here, they warn me to stop the investigation, or the lady I rode away with will face dire consequences.” Jules shook his head. “It makes no sense.”

  “It makes perfect sense that they should want you to stop your investigation,” Leander said as he hit his fist against his palm as if to drive the point he was making.

  With a wave of his hand, Jules said, “Then they try to burn it?”

  “Perhaps whoever they are working with told them to get rid of it,” Leander suggested.

  Jules thought back to the party. “Lord Portland could have connections within the household. I definitely would not put it past him.”

  “No matter who it is, the fact remains that someone within these walls is laying a trap for you, Your Grace. I know not what the best course of action would be,” Leander said with a frown.

  Jules thought of Penelope. “They knew of Lady Withersfield, so they had to be at the party or in the alley. That only leaves the attacker or perhaps Lord Portland.”

  “I knew nothing of the lady until I received Lady Winchester’s note,” Leander said with a shake of his head. “I am very sorry that they seem inclined to pull her into all of this when it has nothing to do with her.”

  Jules went over and sat down at his desk. “I fear that it was almost inevitable with how these people think.”

  “We can’t let them hurt the young lady,” Leander said with determination.

  Jules laid the letter down on his desk and rubbed his face. “I cannot go back on my word to Lady Withersfield.”

  “If you truly care for the young lady, perhaps you should put her safety first, Your Grace. Surely she would understand,” Leander said with a sigh. “Would it be so horrible to keep away from her just until we finish this? We have to be close.”

  Jules thought about that for a moment. As much as he thought of being away from the young woman was unbearable, the thought of her being hurt because of him was too much for him to stomach. “You make a good point. I shall need to send word to her.”

  “Perhaps you should hold off on that, Your Grace, just until we figure out how we are to entrap this foul trickster in our midst,” Leander suggested.

  Jules leaned back in his chair. Leander looked antsy enough to start pacing at any moment. Jules had to admit that he was as on edge as his friend. “Tell me, Leander, have you any idea how we can go about setting this trap? I know that Lady Withersfield is safer away from me, but I do not intend on letting scum like the people who killed my parents take her from me. We have to act quickly to get this sorted out.”

  “The quicker, the better,” Leander said with a nod. He frowned. “I think I might know how they got in to deliver the letter and perhaps move it, but if they catch wind that I know something is up, then we might lose our chance. Even my moving the letter again might have tipped our hand, Your Grace.”

  Jules hit his hand against the desk. “I cannot fathom that any within these walls would have harmed my parents, let alone be after me now. To harm an innocent girl is just more than I can imagine of any here. These accusations are so dire that we have to be certain before we act, Leander.”

  “I would never have suggested it had I thought there was any other reasoning, Your Grace. It just seems unlikely that anyone from without could have gotten in so easily and been undetected. I shall begin enquiries immediately, but I will still need a full day’s time to enact any plan that I come up with.” Leander dipped his head to Jules and made his way to the door.

  Jules watched his old friend go out into their household with some trepidation. It seemed that not even the home he had always cherished was safe anymore. Now not only did ghosts haunt these halls but also the murderers who sought to kill him.

  The thought that he had been thinking of bringing Lady Withersfield into this very home chilled Jules to the bone. He would keep his distance. If Leander needed a full day, then it was likely he would not be able to attend the party at the home of the Marquis.

  Jules pulled a piece of paper out of his desk and began to write a letter to the young woman and her father. It was not ideal, but he had to do something to assure him that he would not be doing an insult to the young woman and her family when he failed to show up at their home on the appointed date. Jules sighed and decided he would write two letters, one to Lady Withersfield and one to her father.

  The one to the Marquis was far easier to write. He simply had to inform the man that he would be detained and unable to attend the party. The one to Lady Withersfield required a bit more tact than his fatigued mind had the energy for. Jules frowned at the paper. Perhaps it would be best not to address a letter to her at all.

  Jules wagered that no letter might offend the young lady, but if he wrote something
in the letter that went against his promise to her, might that enrage her? With the young lady’s delicate balance of uncertainty towards marriage, it could very likely prove that he was not willing to set aside his pursuits for her. That was a valid point, as was he not continuing with what he had sworn to push away?

  Putting pen to paper, Jules forced himself to write the words telling Penelope of the new clues and that he owed it to his household to bring this matter to an end. He begged her to be safe, for he feared that even as Leander and himself moved quietly to make their trap, they may be found out. The last thing Jules could take was to know that somehow he had caused harm to come to her through his own actions.

  When he was done, he set the letters aside. Jules got up and looked at himself in the mirror over his washbowl. “What use is a Duke who has to wallow in his room?” he asked of the reflection, which only stared back at him. Jules sighed.

  He had to do something, and he decided to start with finding Anne. He wanted to speak to her privately if possible to make sure that she was coping well enough. From what Leander had said, the girl was suffering greatly, and that put Jules’ mind ill at ease for her.

  ***

  Jules went down to the kitchen, his cane clicking along the marble floors. “Hello there, Anne,” Jules said lightly as he spotted the scullery maid leaned against the counter.

  “Your Grace,” Anne said with a smile. “I am happy to see you about this afternoon. If you are hungry, then I am sure the cook has some food put back.”

  Jules waved off the woman’s concern for his appetite. “I am still quite full from earlier,” he assured her. “Actually, I was coming to see you.”

  “Me, Your Grace? Why should that be?” Anne tilted her head to the side and gave him a strange look.

  Jules fought off a wave of suspicion. It seemed as if everyone in the house now was a suspect in his mind, but he had not come down to the kitchen to interrogate a poor maid. “I have come to see how you are holding up. Leander said your nervousness has been ailing you. Is that true?”

  “Oh,” Anne whispered. She gave him a hesitant smile. “Sometimes,” she admitted with a nod. “I try not to be nervous, Your Grace. Shall you let me go then?”

  Jules shook his head and came to sit on a stool near the young woman. His side was aching from all the extra movement he had done, and Jules suspected he really should be resting but could not bring himself to do so. “I would never dismiss you for something like that, Anne. How has your mother been?”

  The look of relief on Anne’s face set Jules’ mind at ease about the girl’s intentions. Anne smiled. “She’s doing a might better. Doc said her leg should heal up nicely. She’s eager to be back working.”

  “And we are eager to have her back. These things happen, but I think from now on she should leave the climbing to yourself or Dorothy,” Jules said with a chuckle.

  Anne giggled despite herself. Jules did not think any worse of the girl for her display of frivolity. She was still after all quite young, and such things were to be expected.

  “I think I shall tell her that you said that, Your Grace,” Anne said with a smile. “She might listen to you better.”

  Jules nodded. “Then do so. If that does not quench her thirst for heights, I can tell her so myself.” Jules stood up despite his aching side and gave the girl a dip of his head. “Have you seen Leander?”

  “He was talking to some of the maids,” Anne said. “He’s acting a bit odd, isn’t he? He’s all jumpy.”

  Jules shrugged. “With Leander, you never know. He has been on edge ever since the incident, and now with this attack on me, I fear the man is set to worry himself into a frenzy.”

  “Daniel told me about the attack and all. Something terrible that someone can do something like that to you, Your Grace,” Anne said with a frown. “Leander was quite beside himself before he left to get you. He’s in such a terrible state; you’d think he was the one that got hurt.”

  Jules gave the girl a smile. “Leander’s family has been with us for a very long time. I think he wouldn’t know what to do without us.”

  “Anne, girl, come get to these dishes,” called the cook as she walked into the kitchen. The woman stopped short when she saw Jules. “Your Grace, ye should not be out of bed, should ye?”

  “I fear that I am not good at following doctor’s orders,” Jules told the woman with a gentle laugh. “Oh, Hen, do not look at me so. You remind me of how Mother was always shaking her head at me.”

  Charlotte narrowed her eyes at Jules. “She had a right to do so. You were always trying to give us all a fright. Now ye get back up to bed, or I’ll put you there myself.”

  “Oh fine, you have won the day, Hen,” Jules said with a sigh that he followed with a wink at the infuriated cook. He turned and walked away as he heard Anne’s giggle followed swiftly by a scolding from Charlotte to the girl.

  Jules knew that the cook was right, though. He should be resting, but how could he do so when there was so much still to do? Was he to just lie in bed like some invalid while Leander risked himself to figure a way to save Jules’ life?

  With a sigh of dissatisfaction, Jules stopped at the foot of the stairs. He had no desire to climb the flight of stairs again that day and instead opted to go to his father’s study. Jules reminded himself that it was his study now.

  The faint scent of the pipe his father always smoked still clung to the study. Jules half-expected to see the man when he opened the door but was only greeted by the familiar aroma and soft couch. Jules closed the door and sank down onto the couch that was against the wall under a window. He sunk hesitantly onto the soft cushions, careful not to pull on the threads in his side any more than he had to in order to lay down.

  Once he was stretched out, Jules sighed in relief. His heavy eyelids proved impossible to keep open as Jules fought to keep the fatigue at bay. He had no desire to see what nightmares likely awaited him, but his body refused to allow him to stay awake, and he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

  Despite his misgivings, the dreams did not bring him ill tidings. He saw only laughter in his dreams. Jules smiled in his sleep as his dream self lived a thousand lifetimes without the pain of parting from Lady Withersfield. They danced, drank, and lived. They had children, and their lives stretched out before him.

  It was altogether too lovely a thing to stand. Once he relaxed, his dream began to change, and soon Jules was scrambling to find her. Had he lost her? The forest was dark and had crept back up on him. Jules sank down alone in that forest. Why had he left his angel?

  ***

  There was a knocking somewhere nearby. Jules’ eyes felt like they had sand in them when he blinked them open. The insistent knocking came again. Jules groaned and put an arm over his eyes. “Yes?” His voice sounded dry and cracked when he spoke.

  “Your Grace,” Daniel’s voice called through the door. The young man sounded uncertain as to what he should do.

  Jules let his arm fall to his side. “Come in, Daniel,” he called back, swallowing to try and take the dryness out of his mouth.

  The door cracked open a bit then Daniel came in once he seemed assured that Jules was actually waiting on him. “Forgive me intruding, Your Grace, but when I returned, I was told I could find you upstairs. I just came to let you know that the hatter said the hat would be ready in three days’ time.”

  “That is fine,” Jules said as he sat up. He winced as he did so, and Daniel was swiftly over to him. “I assure you that I am fine. What time is it?”

  Daniel frowned. “It is nearly time for the evening meal. Shall I have them serve you in here, Your Grace?”

  “That will be fine. I have no desire to walk any further than to my desk at the moment.” Jules stood up then said, “Oh, Daniel, there are two letters up on the desk in my room. See that they are dispatched, will you?”