Loving Tales of Lords and Ladies

by Abigail Agar

  She wondered why he bothered to send the letter at all. Surely he had to know that the letter would make her worry for him. She would not be there to save him this time if something happened.

  Fear struck through Penelope’s heart for the man. That footman of his did nothing to calm her fears for the Duke. Penelope knew that Jules had few people he could truly depend on left in his world, but there was something about the man that struck her as odd.

  Penelope had the urge to seek Jules out and shake some reason into him. Yet, if the journals of the women in her family were any indication, it seemed a fool’s errand to try and dissuade men from their all-consuming quests. There was nothing for her to do but worry.

  “No wonder women think marriage is such misery,” Penelope said to her reflection as she sat up and took a breath between sobs. “I am not even his wife, and he has me in tears. How much worse will it get if we are married?”

  Her reflection did not seem to take any pity on her, and Penelope drew in a shaky breath. Perhaps it truly was not worth it, or perhaps she had to rely as her mother said on her Duke’s judgement. “Because his earlier judgement did not almost get him killed,” Penelope mumbled to herself.

  Chapter 12

  The garden in which Jules waited was filled with flowers just beginning to open. In a month’s time the garden would be alive with colours, but for now, the flowers were only timidly peering out at the world that was still a bit cold. The garden gate opening brought Jules’ eyes up and away from the flower beds.

  “Leander, there you are,” Jules said with some relief. He had begun to worry when the man took so long to return from delivering his letters to the Winchester household. “Did everything go well? You have been gone for so long that I was worried.”

  Leander settled himself on the bench next to Jules. “It went as well as it could be expected. The doorman told me that the Marquis was out, but he assured me that both letters would be delivered promptly.”

  “Very good,” Jules said. His breath came in puffs. He was anxious, and he had to admit the idea of putting himself in danger again did not appeal to Jules. He was still quite aware of the burning in his side from his last adventure.

  With a chuckle, Leander tapped Jules on the shoulder with his fist. “Don’t look sick now. You need to be strong for what lies ahead. There’s no telling who we’ll find at the end of this.”

  “Truthfully, I think that is the part that worries me the most,” Jules admitted. “I can think of no one who would do such a thing. Yet, there has to be someone, does there not? It makes sense.”

  Leander’s face contorted in guilt. “I do not like it any better than you, Your Grace, but we have very little choice in the matter. We have to flush them out, no matter how it might hurt us.”

  “What say you then? How do we go about this?” Jules was not anxious to hear the words, but he wanted it over with.

  Leander rubbed his palms along the legs of his breeches. “I noticed a bit back that some of the staff were leaving the doors unlocked. Mind you, at the time, I just thought it idiocy or lack of responsibility, but now that I look back on it, I see something more serious in the act.”

  “Who?” Jules asked the question as he leaned forward a little, bracing himself on his knees.

  Leander shook his head and raised his hands helplessly. “I don’t know for sure, but someone has been leaving the doors unlocked, and it sits wrong with me. I first noticed it some months prior to the attack on your parents, but as I said, it seemed innocent enough at the time. I spoke to Eva about it, and I thought it would be seen to.” Leander looked down at his feet and mumbled, “They could have been letting someone into the house for all we know. If I had just come to the Lord and Lady with it when I first noticed it, then perhaps this would have ended as quickly as it had begun.”

  “You could not know what was in the hearts of such people, Leander. I certainly would not have thought anyone here capable of it. My parents likely would have dismissed it as well had you told them. I feel if Eva had known who had done it, then it would have been sorted.” Jules gripped the can in his hand tightly. “I do not like the sound of any of it at all,” he said with a frown. “How do we catch them if we do not know who it is?”

  Leander paused to think, and then he said, “I reckon we should try the East gate. We could hide there by the hedges and wait. Of all the entrances into the property, it would be the one that would be easiest to get into.”

  “There is a lot of cover on that side,” Jules said as he grimaced. “I should really be elsewhere. This should not be where I am right now.”

  Leander ventured, “This about that young lady again, Your Grace? I thought that was why you wrote her the letter?”

  “It was, but the more I think on it, the more I realise the letter was a foolish thing,” Jules admitted. “She will just be vexed with me.”

  With a snort, Leander said, “Womenfolk are often vexed just to be so, Your Grace.”

  Jules did not truly want to discuss Lady Withersfield with Leander. For all of Leander’s traits, Jules had never seen the man around many women, and he truly did not think he should trust the man’s judgement in that particular area. With a groan, Jules resigned himself to the task ahead.

  “We should meet up at the gate once darkness has fallen. It would probably be best if we went separately so as to not attract attention.” Jules stood up and braced himself on his cane. The sting of his side was nagging at him to check his bandages, a task that he had little time for. The sky was already darkening, and the time for plots would be upon them before long.

  Leander seemed to agree as he stood up as well. “It would be a sound idea. I shall just do some rounds of the house to see if anyone is missing or out of place as yet.”

  “Then it is decided,” Jules said. He took a deep breath. The days had warmed, but there still was that stubborn chill. Was that dampness in the air that he felt?

  Without another word, Leander was off towards the house as if driven by devils. The man took his duty seriously, and for that Jules was grateful, but at the same time worried for him. Penelope had also seemed worried over Leander, and she was astute in her observations from the time that Jules had been around her. Then again, he scarcely knew her, and he had known Leander for a long time.

  He worried that Leander would end up getting ahead of himself and hurt trying to keep Jules out of harm, which was probably why the man was so willing to split up. Jules trudged towards the house, passing the budding flowers without really seeing them this time. His mind was elsewhere, and he paid the night song of a bird no attention as he passed into the French doors of the manor house.

  “Daniel,” Jules said with relief at seeing the young man standing in the kitchen. “Come to fetch a bite?”

  Daniel dipped his head respectfully to Jules. “Just stopping to chat while I had a moment. Do you require something, Your Grace?”

  “I do actually.” Jules waved for the man to follow him. Daniel gave the kitchen maids that had been busily cleaning up the kitchen for the night a wave before he turned and followed Jules down the hallway towards his study. Once they were in the study, Jules announced, “I need your help in checking my bandages, I am afraid. My side has been stinging fiercely, and I do not know if it is from the torturous couch that I napped upon earlier, or exertions.”

  Daniel looked over at the couch dubiously. “Of course, Your Grace.”

  With Daniel’s help, Jules got his coat off easily enough. When Daniel went to take the shirt off, Jules hissed through his teeth at the stinging pain that raced along his side. Daniel muttered something that Jules did not catch.

  “I think you’ve bled through your stitches, Your Grace. We should probably call the doctor.” Daniel’s voice held concern as the man eased Jules’ shirt off his injured side.

  Jules grimaced. “I have no time for such things. There should be some fabric to re-wrap it in that cabinet over there. Father kept some supplies for hunting, and I am
sure there will be something for wounds.”

  “As you say, Your Grace,” Daniel said with a frown. The young man was quickly over to the cabinet that Jules had indicated. When he returned, he had a bottle of the red tincture that Jules remembered all too well from his childhood and some gauzy fabric cut into strips.

  Jules intoned, “Oh good, you found the Devil’s oil.”

  Daniel chuckled and gave Jules a smile. “It is the only thing up there that looked like it might help keep the infection from getting into you. Unless you’d like me to pour brandy on it?”

  Jules laughed and winced at the vibration. “No, I shall take the oil.”

  Daniel set the bandages and tincture aside. He cleaned the wound as best as he could. “Brace yourself,” Daniel warned as he reached for the red tincture that he soaked one of the strips of fabric in. When the strip hit the wound, Jules hissed through his teeth at the sensation. “That’s the worst of it,” Daniel assured him.

  The next moment, Daniel was wrapping more cloth strips around Jules’ waist and fastening them into place with knots for the time being. Jules breathed a relieved breath when Daniel announced he was going upstairs to get Jules a new shirt.

  Once the young man returned, he helped Jules put the clean shirt on, and Jules prayed that the blood did not seep through this one as well. Jules sighed in relief. “Thank you, Daniel.”

  “I would advise an actual doctor next time perhaps, Your Grace,” Daniel said with a smile. “I am not very skilled at such things.”

  Jules assured him, “You did a fine job in a pinch.”

  ***

  After darkness had cloaked the yards outside, Jules stood up and stretched gently, testing his shoulder. He had gone upstairs under the guise of resting, but now he tugged on his coat. He would take the back stairs and exit the building hopefully unseen. Jules wagered that if he was seen, he could just pass it off as a whim to attend the Marquis party.

  Jules stared at himself in the mirror. His face looked gaunt and thin to himself. Had he without knowing it become one of the ghosts that haunted this house?

  Turning away from the mirror, Jules grabbed his cane and walked carefully out into the hallway. The house was quiet upstairs. The servants would be downstairs getting the house ready for the night. Most of them should be on the servants’ side of the house by now, leaving the Eastern entrance clear of obstructions.

  Jules indeed made it to the exterior door completely unremarked or harassed. He had only heard one member of the staff, but it had just been a maid humming to herself as she tidied up one of the lower rooms. Jules wondered how those rooms ever got untidy, with the fact that he was the only person really residing in the house other than the servants.

  Pursing his lips, Jules thought about all those quiet rooms, collecting dust and gathering spirits as he turned the doorknob and slipped as gracefully as he could while injured out into the evening air. The air outside carried even more dampness.

  Jules pondered if it were good for his injury for a moment before he shrugged off the idea. The rain had restorative qualities, and although he did not fancy getting drenched, there were no truly threatening clouds in the dimly lit sky.

  The faint orange glow of a lamp out on the street shone as a solitary beacon to where the Eastern gate lay waiting. He trudged down the path, mostly from memory as the ground was lost in depth of shadows that rivalled that of the vile alley where he had been injured. The thought of that alley slowed his steps, and Jules frowned.

  Here he was vulnerable, and he was walking into the situation again. He was certain that Lady Withersfield would have some words to say about that, and possibly the state of his mind. Jules had to agree that there was no reason or logic left in this world as he slowly began to move forward again with purpose.

  “Leander,” Jules whispered. He could see nothing but moving shadows, but he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder as he passed near the hedge that bordered the fence row.

  Leander hissed, “I’m here, Your Grace. Were you seen?”

  Jules breathed out a sigh and chastised, “You could have warned me instead of grabbing me, Leander. You will give me my death.”

  “My apologies, Your Grace,” Leander quickly replied. Where they were was only dimly lit by broken bits of moonlight that managed to evade both clouds and the tree branches overhead.

  Jules waved off the man’s concern. “Luckily, Daniel put a tincture on my wounds a bit ago, so they are still quite senseless to my movements. No harm for the wear, Leander.”

  “Is your wound healing well, Your Grace?” Leander seemed anxious and concerned then.

  It was nice to be looked after, but Jules was not in a good temperament. He shrugged. “It is bleeding again, but I will live for the time being.”

  “Are you sure that we should not adjourn and get the doctor, Your Grace? I would not have you bleeding to death on this walkway.” Leander’s words were quite insistent, but Jules again just waved him off, even if he was unsure if the man could really see the gesture.

  They stood for a long time in silence. It seemed as if Jules mind kept spinning and changing his view of the situation. One moment he thought they were in the right of it, and the next he thought they were surely consumed by some all-devouring magic that had them bent towards destruction.

  Jules shifted his feet a bit and adjusted his stance. “We have come this far, and I know we need to see it through, but I just keep feeling as if this is a fool’s errand. We should get the guards to see to this.”

  “You seem quite fickle, Your Grace,” Leander noted. “You disregard your own health for the pursuit of this, and then you turn around and do not want to continue.”

  When Jules did not respond, the man sighed. “If you feel that it is best, then we can leave this here, Your Grace,” Leander said in a quiet voice. “I thought you would want to handle this quietly to save any further disgrace or rumours.”

  Jules scoffed. “I care little for reputation these days, Leander. I just want the truth. It surely should not be so hard to find.”

  “The truth is often buried under other truths,” Leander said with a shrug.

  Jules frowned. “What does that even mean, Leander?”

  Leander’s form leaned against the fence row. “Everyone thinks they have the right of the situation, Your Grace. It is possible that whoever did this thinks they are on the side of the righteous.”

  “How could it be righteous to kill people who are innocent of any crime or to threaten a young lady that they do not even know?” Jules spat in disgust at the idea of it.

  After a time Leander said, “Just because you know not of a crime, does not mean that there was not one.”

  Jules stilled as Leander moved. “Are you wearing clogs? You never wear those.”

  “If your attacker in the alley wore them, then it will help hide our tracks. I thought it prudent,” Leander explained.

  Jules could not detract from that line of thinking. “Not that it will be of much use if there is no more moonlight than this,” Jules said as he squinted up at the night sky through the tree branches of the old oak that covered the walkway.

  “Better safe than sorry,” Leander said with a gesture that Jules barely caught in the dimness.

  They stilled as voices approached. Jules eased closer to the fence row. There was a male voice now and a female.

  “It is nice of you to walk me out,” the female voice said.

  Jules whispered, “Sounds like Anne.”

  “Aye,” Leander whispered.

  The male with her spoke, and Jules recognised Daniel’s voice. “It seems only right. With all going on, the idea of you travelling the streets at night does not sit right with me. You should have asked for a carriage, Anne.”