Seraphina frowned. “Show me.”
“Show you what?” Mary asked, out of breath from her dash toward her sister.
“A man in the road, Lady Mary,” Hester repeated.
“Never mind all of that. If he is truly injured, we must attend to him.” She turned and hailed the coachman to come their way. “Get in the carriage and show us where the man is.”
The two maids nodded and made their way toward the approaching vehicle while Mary stood with her arms crossed in front of her, shaking her head.
“I was only joking, you know. About the man falling out of the sky. Yet, it appears one has.”
Seraphina rolled her eyes at her sister and proceeded into the carriage.
Not even five minutes had passed when Lottie, who had been leaning out of the window, called out. “Stop the carriage. He is here.” The moment she’d yelled out, she turned to Seraphina and Mary, her face red.
“I am sorry, it is not proper for me to command the coachman. I got a little too excited.”
Seraphina waved her off. “It does not matter. Now, take me to the man.”
She glanced at her sister who smirked. “Do not jest, Mary. It is not the time.”
“I disagree. But very well.”
The four women walked along the side of the road, followed by Fornsham.
“There!” Hester called out and pointed. “He went and rolled down the embankment.” She stood with her hands on her hips, her blue maid’s uniform shifting in the breeze.
Seraphina stepped next to her and peered down the embankment. Indeed, there he was. A man, covered in dirt, his clothing nearly ripped off.
“Assist me down to the embankment,” she commanded of the maids, who stared at her, unmoving.
“Please, My Lady. Allow me,” Fornsham quickly stepped forward with Mary beside him, her eyes wide.
“Yes, Sera, let him. Let a man do the investigating. We don’t know who this man is. He might be a wild man.”
“He appears to be an unconscious man at present,” Seraphina said, sarcasm in her voice as she glanced back at the body.
They waited as Fornsham squatted beside the man and then looked back toward them.
“Alive he is, My Ladies. Some kind of wound on his side. Looks like a scrape. Must have hit his head judging by the bruise on his forehead.”
Seraphina bit her bottom lip.
What we are to do? We cannot leave him here.
She looked from the two maids to her sister and realized that everyone was looking at her. Of course. She was the highest-ranking person in their group and the decision lay with her.
“Can you carry him up the embankment, Fornsham?”
The coachman was an older man, well into his fifth decade, but spry and strong. He gave her a curt nod and proceeded to pull the man up. He lifted him over his shoulder and began to make his way up toward the road.
Once there, he dropped the man on the side of the road as if he were a bag of potatoes.
“Careful, Fornsham. We don’t want to harm him further.”
“Sorry, My Lady. He is not as light as you might think. Or perhaps I am not as strong as I thought.”
Seraphina looked at the man before her. He was in terrible condition. His clothes were torn and stained with dirt and blood, and his hair caked to his face with even more blood. She shuddered.
What had happened to this man? Who was he? And how in the world had he ended up in the woods so close to her home?
“What are we to do with him, My Lady?” Fornsham asked, looking at the man who was now lying beside the road.
“We can’t leave him lying in the road like this, he will catch his death for sure,” Mary argued.
Seraphina nodded. She’d found herself quite unable to take her eyes off of the man. He didn’t appear to be a farmer; his complexation was much too pale for any such profession. It was not just his paleness that gave her pause. His face was shaven clean, and his haircut was in the style popular with the young nobles she’d seen this Season in London. Yet, he could not possibly be a nobleman. Not in the condition he was in. No member of the Peerage would get himself into a position such as this. He was barely dressed.
“I wonder what brought him out here,” she said out loud, more to herself than anyone else. “Whatever it was, we cannot leave him here, you are right. He will certainly die if he is not attended to, and post haste. Let us take him back home. Papa can decide what is to be done with him. He was found on his lands, after all.”
With the sisters in agreement, the unconscious man was carried into the carriage and Seraphina and Mary climbed back into the carriage alongside him. The maids climbed onto the seat with the coachman and the carriage set into motion.
Seraphina found herself once more transfixed by the man. She could not help but notice how handsome his features were, despite the dirt and blood which covered it. She could not take her eyes off him. Her book lay beside her on the seat, all but forgotten. Her focus was the mysterious man.
Who are you? What is your story? I cannot wait to find out what terrible fate has caused you to end up in such a state.
The carriage made its way down the road and was about to turn onto the path that lead to Vallant Castle, the home of her father, the Duke of Oxshire, when she glanced out the window.
Something in the distance caught her eye. A figure off in the woods, mounted on a horse. She leaned out further to attempt to make out his features but was unable to. But he was staring in their direction, she could tell that much.
A foreboding feeling spread through Seraphina’s body as the figure vanished from view.
She looked back at the man before her. Was he connected to the figure in the woods? What if he was a criminal of some kind, or a rogue? Had she made a mistake?
No, he did not look as though he was trouble. Alas, he certainly was in trouble.
She could not help but wonder, was she bringing problems to her family by saving him?
Chapter 2
Liam Keswick, the Earl of Millsbury, found himself climbing the steps to the watchtower of Horlock Castle, his ancestral home in North Yorkshire, and looked out into the distance. It was early morning now and the dew was still visible from the fields before him.
The flower beds, so carefully and lovingly planted by his gardeners, at the direction of his wife, Lorraine, would soon rise toward the sun. They would give the entire property a cheerful, calm feeling.
However, at this early hour, with the memory of the night just gone by still lingering in the air, Liam found himself neither calm, nor cheerful.
He stood still, lost in thought. He did not hear the gentle footsteps that made their way up the steps after him. It was because of his absent mind that he found himself leaping into the air with shock when someone touched his arm.
“My dearest, I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you,” Lorraine said, regret in her sweet voice.
He shook his head, ginger-colored locks falling into his pale face.
“It is I who is sorry. I did not hear you. Why are you awake at this early hour?”
Lorraine looked out over the vast expanse before them. The grounds of Horlock Castle were among the largest in North Yorkshire. One a clear day, you could see Selby in the distance.
“You have tossed and turned all night with worry, my love. When I woke and found you gone, I knew you were here, looking out once more.”
Her large, amber-colored eyes looked at him with worry and she stroked his arm. She had wrapped his banyan around herself instead of her light dressing gown. Liam noticed that a gentle fog escaped her mouth as she spoke for even though it was still summer, up here in the North, mornings were chilly.
“He should have been here by now,” he was aware that his voice was heavy with fear.
“Perhaps he stopped on the way. There are many pretty towns between Gloucester and here. I’m certain he took in some of nature’s beauty. You know how attached to nature he is.”
Liam shook his head.
“No. His letter said he had to seek urgent refuge here. He was not even planning to bring his household with him. It was just him on a horse.”
Lorraine turned her hands up, “Well, there you go. It would take him many days to ride here without use of a carriage. He’d have to switch out the horse and rest himself. That is the reason behind his tardiness, I am certain of it. Please, Husband, do not fret. Lysander will be here. And soon.”
Liam did not reply.
I should have met him halfway, taken some of my men. I wish he would have been more specific about the nature of the threat against him. I wish he would have given me more of a clue as to what trouble he is in.
The letter from his dearest cousin, Lysander Keswick, the newly appointed Duke of Emberborough, had arrived nearly a week ago. The two had been close since their childhood days. Liam thought back to the summers he’d spent at his uncle’s home in Gloucester and the fun he’d had with Lysander, and his brother, Harry. While he wasn’t as close to Harry, he and Lysander were like brothers.
Due to the distance between their respective homes, they did not see one another much, save for during the Season. However, correspondence between them was usually lengthy and detailed. Although Lysander’s most recent letter had been short. Worryingly short.
Liam slipped his hand in his pocket and traced his fingers around the edge of the letter. He already knew what it said but pulled it out once more anyhow.
My dear cousin, I am in trouble. I require refuge. On my way to Horlock Castle via horse. Explanation forthcoming. Expect me by week’s end. I am alone. No household. Please do not share this letter with anyone but Lorraine.
Liam chewed his bottom lip. Week’s end had come and gone, and it was now Monday, and no sign of Lysander.
“Liam,” Lorraine said quietly as she took the letter from his hands. “He is only two days late. He will come. Now, please, will you accompany me to the drawing room and take a hot chocolate with me? The baby requires nourishment,” she placed her hand over her bulging stomach and rubbed it.
Liam smiled as he placed his hand over hers.
“Very well, let us go.”
He took her hand and accompanied her down the stairs, a worried feeling still in his stomach.
Late that evening, Liam sat at his desk, drumming his fingers. Lysander had still not appeared, and Liam was growing ever more worried. It was not like his cousin to be late, and especially not after sending such an alarming letter. He would not have stopped to glance upon a poppy field or take in the natural beauty along the way as Lorraine had suggested. Of course, he was well aware that all his wife wanted to do was to reassure him.
With a sigh, he removed his snuff box from his pocket and placed it on the desk. Upon opening it, he gathered a pinch of the snuff and brought it to his nose. Inhaling it swiftly he felt it tickle the inside of his nose and a moment later, broke into the expected sneeze and cough.
He despised snuffing, but felt it was essential to fit in with the other members of the Peerage, and especially at court, where practically everybody was partial to the fine snuff. In order to avoid making a cake of himself by coughing excessively in public, he had gotten into the habit of snuffing at home, in the privacy of his study, in order to get used to it.
As he returned the snuff box to his pocket the thought of Lysander came to him once more. He could imagine his cousin sitting across from him right at that moment, a disapproving expression on his visage.
“Why trouble yourself with something you find vile, just to fit in among the other peers? Why not simply them tell you despise snuff?”
A good-natured argument would ensue over the necessity of doing things one did not like for the good of one’s reputation. The conversation would grow rather heated, until they came to the brink of becoming a real argument, rather than just a friendly discussion. Then, just in time, one or the other would make an inappropriate joke or comment, to turn it all around.
They never fought in earnest. They never allowed it to come to that.
By Jove, Lysander. Was it your insistence on being contrary that has gotten you into trouble?
Liam had feared as much. Lysander was never shy about pointing out the failures of the society in which they lived and often vocally made his opinions known. Many of their fellow lords had all but closed the door on Lysander. Not that he much cared. He found being a duke to be an incredible burden bestowed on him by his father.
While Liam reveled in his role of earl, Lysander found his inheritance a burden. Had his dislike of the ton caused his current troubles?
Liam rose and stepped out into the hallway. He’d taken supper with Lorraine, who’d gone to bed hours ago. He thought of his sleeping wife in their bedchamber, pregnant with child once more and, for a brief moment, he smiled. He reveled in a moment of gratitude for having found a woman who was not only of his class, but whom he loved and who loved him. But then, as quickly as they had been banished, the dark thoughts about his cousin returned.
Perhaps I ought to send a message to Harry and Aunt Yolanda. Inquire of what they know. But the letter said not to involve anyone.
He paced the empty halls of the Castle, glancing outside every now and again into the dark grounds. On occasion he would pass a footman, standing at attention, but otherwise he was alone with his thoughts.
Liam made his way across the Castle and took a seat in front of the fireplace in the drawing room, propping his head up on his hand. As wracked as he was with worry, he felt the fatigue catch up to him. He ought to go upstairs, go rest next to his beautiful wife who would soon give him the heir he so longed for, but he found himself unable to rise.
Instead, his eyelids grew heavy.
“My Lord!” The sound of the voice calling him ripped him from an uneasy sleep. For a moment, he did not know where he was, but everything came back to him in a rush.
The drawing room. I must have fallen asleep.
He rubbed his eyes and blinked in the direction of the voice. It was Mr. Rhys, his butler. What was he doing awake already?
Liam turned his head and found that outside, the sun was beginning to rise. How long had he been asleep? He shook his head. It did not matter.
“What is it, Rhys?”
The butler hurried into the drawing room, a silver platter in his hand upon which Liam saw a letter.
“A messenger, My Lord,” Rhys extended his hand allowing Liam to retrieve the letter.
His heart sank the moment he recognized the seal of House Keswick. His cousin’s seal.
His hands shook as he broke the seal and unfolded the letter, reading the words as quickly as he could without losing their meaning.
When he was done, he dropped his arms to his side. With his mouth open, he bent forward to steady himself on the armchair.
“My Lord?” Rhys’ voice was full of concern. “You have paled, do you require a physician?”
Liam shook his head but said nothing. Instead he rushed out of the drawing room, walking ever faster until he’d reached the grand staircase. His heart beating out of his chest, he broke into a run, taking three steps at a time until he reached the top of the staircase.
“Lorraine!” he shouted her name as he sprinted toward their bedchamber.
A footman, eyes wide with confusion, opened the heavy door and Liam rushed through, the letter still in hand.
Lorraine sat up in bed, her hair tucked under a night cap, her eyes wide with fright.
“Liam! What is it? What has happened?”
He was out of breath as he stepped around the bed and handed her the letter.
“A letter, from Harry at Emberborough. I must leave at once. It is Lysander. He’s gone missing.”
Chapter 3
It was the rays of the sun shining through the large windows that woke him. They gently caressed his eyelids at first. But as the sun rose, it became more forceful, more insistent. At last, he opened his eyes and blinked, turning his head to get away from the rays.
/> At once, he groaned as his head pounded. The next moment, he was overtaken by a sharp pain in his side. He attempted to roll on his side but found it only caused more pain.
Suddenly, a cool hand was placed on his forehead and he glanced up.
“Shh, lay still. Your wound is healing well but it will cause some pain for quite some time,” a voice said. It was soft and soothing. He did as he was told. He blinked as the sun once again shone into his eyes, obscuring the figure before him.
The Trouble with Saving a Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 2