The Duke's Legacy: Dangerous Dukes Vol 2

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘Well, my dear,’ Aunt Constance said after half an hour. ‘If you’re quite comfortable then I ought to see Mrs Burton about the menus.’

  She kissed Abbey again and Sebastian stood to open the door for her.

  ‘I have no pressing engagements,’ Beatrice whispered as Sebastian showed her aunt out. ‘But if you would prefer me to leave you alone with—’

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ Please leave.

  Beatrice smiled, as though able to read Abbey’s mind, and remained where she was. A pack of cards was produced and when Mary put her face around the door an hour later, she was greeted with howls of laughter. Sebastian was teaching the girls how to cheat at piquet. Abbey was rather proud with the speed at which she had mastered the art of dealing from the bottom of the pack.

  Mary hovered for a moment or two but when she wasn’t invited to join the game she used her children as an excuse to leave again. Abbey could see that Sebastian was observing her closely, while not appearing to take more than the mildest interest in her. She was reminded then that she hadn’t yet asked him what discoveries Mr Hodges had made. With Bea in attendance she still couldn’t do so, which was presumably his intention when instigating the game, the wretched man!

  It was time for luncheon, giving Abbey further cause to be frustrated by Sebastian’s growing assertiveness. She wanted to remain in her chamber and have something sent up on a tray but it seemed that didn’t fit in with his plans.

  ‘A change of scenery will do you good, Lady Abigail,’ he said. ‘I would urge you to take luncheon in the dining room.’

  ‘Why must I go down?’ she hissed, watching Beatrice as she exchanged a few words with Sally before leaving the room.

  ‘To keep up the charade,’ he replied. ‘The gentlemen are all on the hunting field, it’s true, but none of the ladies have ridden to hounds today. If we flirt over luncheon the gentlemen will receive a full account of our behaviour when they return which is, of course, the point of it all.’

  ‘‘So it is,’ she replied, tossing her head because it hurt to be reminded she meant nothing to him.

  ‘Obviously, it will only be possible for them to hear of our growing regard for one another if we are actually seen together.’

  Annoyingly she could find no fault with this logic and conceded the point with a reluctant nod.

  ‘Very well. If you give me your arm, I can probably walk—’

  She didn’t get to finish her sentence, mainly because she no longer had sufficient breath in her body to do so. She felt it draining out of her as she was quite literally swept off her settee by a strong pair of arms.

  ‘I can walk!’

  ‘No, better for me to carry you.’ His grin was positively lethal. ‘I have deliberately ensured we make a late entry so all the ladies witness me carrying you in. Naturally I shall hold you far closer than is strictly necessary.’

  Abbey rolled her eyes. ‘Naturally!’

  ‘We need to be convincing.’ He cocked his head to one side and sent her a taunting smile. ‘Do you think you will be able to endure the experience?’

  ‘Harrumph! You, my lord, are overdue for a good setting down.’

  Sebastian chortled, a deep throaty sound which she could feel vibrating through his chest. ‘Tighten your arms around my neck, sweetheart.’ His mocking tone was surely designed to try her patience. Her moue of distaste only seemed to amuse him further, his chuckle turning into a rumbling laugh. ‘And, let me see, what else?’

  ‘Now what?’ she asked impatiently.

  ‘I’m not precisely sure, but something’s lacking. You are far too pale. You should be looking animated, your eyes should have additional sparkle and your skin should be glowing. All as a direct result of my attentions, naturally.’ Seeming not to notice the most unladylike snort which she expelled, Sebastian continued to regard her intently. ‘Now, how can we put that right?’

  Abbey could feel herself blushing scarlet. ‘You are enjoying this!’ she cried accusingly

  ‘Immensely.’ His wink and corresponding smile could have melted stone. She lost the battle to prevent it from affecting her and contented herself with a lofty glare. ‘That maidenly blush is most becoming. Very convincing, but there’s still something amiss.’

  ‘I cannot help the way I look,’ she said peevishly.

  ‘It is your lips, I think. They need to look as though they’ve been thoroughly kissed.’

  She understood what he meant to do and became genuinely distressed. It was one thing kissing him in the garden when no one was around to see her resulting disarray, but deliberately giving the impression that she had been free with her favours was going too far.

  ‘Sebastian, don’t do this! Please, you can’t possibly. Not here. Not now.’

  But, of course, he could. And he did. Ignoring her very real distress he paused at the head of the stairs, angled his head and captured her lips with all the assuredness of a man who fully expected his overture to be welcomed. She struggled against him, this really was too much. But he was so much stronger than she was, the expression in his eyes so persuasively compelling, that her struggle ceased almost before it had begun. Besides, just the feel of his lips upon hers was enough to send a vortex of desire spiralling through her all over again, leaving her quivering with anticipation and ill-equipped to resist his demands.

  Her eyes fluttered to a close as his tongue probed, asking for and receiving her complete capitulation. Abbey no longer cared that she was engaged in a most unseemly embrace with a rake of the first order in a public place where anyone might come upon them at any time. In fact she no longer cared about anything at all, other than that Sebastian should continue to kiss her.

  He couldn’t do so. It had to end and he broke the kiss before Abbey was ready for it to end. She was mortified when a tiny moan of protest escaped her mouth.

  ‘Sorry, sweetheart,’ he said as he commenced their journey down the stairs. ‘I promise to make it up to you later.’

  ‘Don’t imagine I enjoyed that,’ she hissed. ‘I was merely playing a part.’

  ‘Very convincingly, too.’ Holding her closely against him, he examined her face. ‘That’s better. No one will have any doubts about how we’ve been occupying our time now, but a gesture from you as I carry you into the dining room wouldn’t go amiss. Perhaps you could tangle your fingers in my hair.’ He tilted his handsome head, as though considering the matter. ‘Yes, that would be just the right touch. Ouch! Tangle, I said, Abbey, not tug.’

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ she replied sweetly. ‘I must have misheard you.’

  He tightened his grip upon her and frowned. ‘Look into my face and try to pretend you enjoy what you see.’

  ‘That’s asking a little too much,’ she replied, enjoying herself almost as much as he obviously was now. ‘I have never been good at cutting a sham.’

  ‘You, my lady, have all the makings of a jade.’

  Since she had just shamelessly allowed him to kiss her witless in public, she had to concede he had a point. She wasn’t about to admit it though.

  ‘Coming from one with experience as extensive as yours, I shall take that as a compliment.’

  ‘You wish to be considered in that light?’ he asked, looking surprised.

  ‘Why not?’ She paused, nibbling at her lower lip as she pretended to think about it. ‘It seems such creatures have more than their fair share of fun.’

  ‘This is hardly the time or—’

  ‘You started it by calling me a jade.’

  He grinned. ‘So I did, but we are here now and must delay this charming conversation until a more suitable juncture. Right, act!’ he hissed as he carried her into the dining-parlour.

  All conversation stopped as they walked, or in Abbey’s case, was carried in. Several pairs of eyes viewed them with speculative interest. Several more jaws dropped in surprise or disapproval. Abbey knew not which, nor did she much care. Sebastian made an inordinate amount of fuss about placing her gently in her usual chair, calli
ng to a footman to bring a stool upon which to rest her ankle, and to another for a cushion to support the small of her back.

  ‘Are you quite comfortable, m’dear?’ he asked with all the solicitation of a man gripped by the fiercest of passions.

  ‘Perfectly so, my lord, although how I should have managed without your strong arms to support me I can scarce imagine.’

  She batted her lashes at him and smiled into his eyes in a gesture that was supposed to combine innocence and bald provocation. She was overacting to a ridiculous degree, but also enjoyed the revenge she was exacting too much to care. She wondered whether it would be going too far if she attempted to simper but, suspecting from Sebastian’s warning frown he wouldn’t be above kicking her bad ankle if she tried it, she decided not to.

  Sebastian watched Abbey carefully as he continued to fuss over her. It was obvious she was having the time of her life, even if she was an appalling actress. He reminded himself she had almost never done anything the tiniest bit scandalous before. But today she had calmly permitted a rakehell not only to carry her, far from innocently, into a room full of her friends and relations but to kiss her in public, too. She had also got her wish and discovered a little more about her passionate nature. The fact that she could survive both experiences, as well as a further attempt on her life, and find the strength of character to respond to him with such spirit had stirred his blood. He grinned a warning into her eyes, momentarily forgetting they had a spellbound audience, eyes agog as they stored up every word uttered between them for later retelling to their lords.

  They had damn well better be.

  Sebastian’s brief annoyance at her terrible acting quickly turned to respect. He took the seat beside her and, barely sparing a word for the rest of the diners, devoted himself to ensuring she ate her luncheon. He speared delicacies with his own fork, placing it between her lips in what could only be construed by his mesmerised audience as a provocative gesture, insisting she take just a little taste.

  ‘It will speed your recovery, my dear,’ he said solicitously. ‘Fish is very good for one’s joints.’

  ‘Well, since you insist.’

  She took a tiny bite, clearly warming to a role she now played a little too well for Sebastian’s comfort. She ran her tongue slowly over her bruised lips as she captured his gaze and held it. If this was her idea of revenge she could have no notion how well she was succeeding. Sebastian grimaced and shifted awkwardly in his seat.

  By the time the meal came to an end, Sebastian was convinced no one in the room doubted the nature of their relationship had undergone a marked change. And they would be bursting to tell their menfolk all about it. Mission accomplished, Sebastian thought, as he carried Abbey back to her room.

  He could see she was genuinely fatigued by the rigours of the morning and insisted she rest for most of the afternoon. Sally was inside the room with her and Hodges patrolled the corridor outside. None of the ladies attempted to visit her and it was a refreshed Abbey whom Sebastian carried into the drawing room that evening. He sent Sally down first to peep around the door and ensure everyone was assembled before he staged his entrance.

  The returned sportsmen made straight for Abbey, Evans being hotly pursued by Sir Michael and Simon Graves. Ignoring Sebastian, who had stationed himself beside her chair, his hand proprietarily resting on its back, Evans actually knelt in front of her. His eyes softening, he kissed her hand and enquired how she was feeling.

  ‘Lord Denver has taken prodigious good care of me today, my lord, and kept me royally entertained.’ She darted a saucy look in Sebastian’s direction, her eyes sparkling, before returning her attention to Lord Evans. ‘And my ankle feels much easier this evening, I thank you.’

  ‘I’m very glad to hear it.’ Evans straightened up and bestowed a glance loaded with pure venom upon Sebastian.

  ‘How was your day’s sport, my lord? I did try to persuade Lord Denver to catch up with the field but he wouldn’t hear of it.’

  ‘What pleasure could compete with the privilege of being admitted to your company for an entire day?’ Sebastian asked.

  Throughout dinner Sebastian and Abbey kept up their performance. Sebastian detected varying degrees of surprise, amusement, envy and disapproval in the faces of their audience but, significantly, nothing more telling than the merest flicker of interest in Charlie’s demeanour. Perhaps he wasn’t guilty after all, which begged the question, who else could Mary be in league with? Whoever it was, he couldn’t have failed to notice the closeness between Abbey and himself. By the time he made a flamboyant display of carrying her back to her chamber he was convinced they had done all they could to frighten Mary and her accomplice into showing their hand.

  Chapter Sixteen

  None of the local hunts were meeting the following day and so the gentlemen escorted the ladies on a morning’s excursion. Harold, at Lord Bevan’s private request, remained behind. So, too, did Sebastian. Harold listened in utter astonishment as his father revealed details of the attempts on Abbey’s life and Sebastian’s true purpose for being amongst them.

  ‘It’s enough to severely test one’s faith.’ Harold scrubbed his hands down his face, looking genuinely distressed. ‘Abbey has suffered a great deal but still manages to handle her onerous responsibilities with dignity and maturity. Who would want to see her dead? What possible reason could there be?’

  ‘That is the very question Denver’s been wrestling with these past couple of weeks,’ Bevan replied.

  ‘What conclusions have you reached, Denver?’

  ‘Not ones you will want to hear, but nevertheless…’

  In a measured tone Sebastian outlined the case against Charlie.

  ‘It is possible, I suppose.’ Harold rubbed his jaw as he made the grudging concession. ‘Even so, I find it difficult to accept he would do such a thing, no matter how pressing his circumstances.’

  ‘Yes, I agree.’ Bevan said. ‘But the fact remains these attacks have taken place and no stranger has been close enough to Abbey to carry them out. It has to be someone she knows.’

  ‘A servant?’ Harold asked, clearly not believing it any more than Sebastian did.

  ‘Possibly.’ Sebastian replied. ‘But he would only be acting on orders from his master.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Harold’s expression became harsh and unyielding. ‘You just now suggested there could be more than one perpetrator, Denver. One of our inner circle might be desperate or foolish enough to try it, but I cannot accept that two would join forces. Besides, if you’re right about Charlie, how could he risk approaching anyone without running the risk of them rejecting his proposal and revealing it to my father?’

  ‘How he managed it I cannot say as yet but I’m persuaded he has recruited a woman,’ Sebastian replied. ‘She would have easier access to Abbey in her private quarters and would be able to initiate attempts upon her life, such as the one that happened here two nights ago, without creating suspicion.’

  ‘I can see why you would think that.’ Harold frowned, looking as though he didn’t want to ask his next question, but doing so anyway. ‘I ask you again, Denver, whom do you suspect?’

  Sebastian squared his shoulders, aware there was no easy way to answer Harold’s question. Sometimes he hated this work but would not shirk his responsibility. Bevan had insisted Harold be informed of their suspicions regarding his wife and be given the opportunity to refute them. ‘I am very much afraid,’ he said compassionately, ‘all of the evidence we have points to your wife.’

  A gasp of astonished denial was Harold’s first reaction. The ineffable silence which followed it was loaded and uncomfortable. Sebastian levelled a steady gaze on Harold’s face and forced himself not to break it.

  ‘Impossible!’ Harold’s tone was glacial. ‘And I take extreme exception to your suggesting it. As for you, sir.’ He turned the dark weight of his gaze upon his father. ‘That you could even countenance such a preposterous notion grieves me beyond words. My family and I will leave
here immediately and I cannot see that we will have anything further to say to one another.’

  Harold turned towards the door but his father’s voice stayed him as he was about to turn the handle. ‘Do you know me so little as to imagine I would entertain Denver’s suggestion lightly?’ he asked in a sombre tone. ‘I know your feelings for your wife run deep and that you are a happy family man. If there was any other way then—’

  ‘Then why do this? I understand your responsibility for Abbey’s welfare is your primary concern, but to think Mary could ever…besides why would she?’

  Bevan spread his hands. ‘Denver’s evidence is too compelling to be dismissed out of hand, however distasteful I find the suggestion.’

  ‘Then I’d better hear it.’ Sounding weary, Harold fell into the nearest chair. ‘And when it has been explained away and she is proven innocent, I shall look forward to receiving your apology.’

  ‘It is my dearest wish to be in a position to offer it,’ Sebastian said with heartfelt sincerity.

  He then methodically laid out all the evidence he had accumulated. Harold listened, scowling frequently as Sebastian condemned the woman he loved, but didn’t try to interrupt. His scowl intensified when he learned how Mary had sent Miss Frobisher and Ellen to Abbey on the night of her most recent accident.

  ‘Mary would know Abbey’s evening attire was laid out during tea since Sally performs the same service for Mary. But that means nothing. My wife could also have tampered with that shoe without anyone being the wiser.’ He stood up, clutched his lapels and his voice rose to fill the room as effortlessly as it must fill his church when he got into his stride with a passionate sermon. ‘But the same could be said of all the other ladies in residence.’

  ‘True,’ Sebastian said, ‘but—’

  ‘I will ask again since you failed to give me a response when I first posed the question. What possible reason could she have to wish Abbey harm? They are good friends. Besides, what would she have to gain from Abbey’s demise?’