She shook her head. “And not after hearing how they treated us. They know who is in this carriage and yet we have not been greeted, not made to feel welcome. They are leaving us to sit here and stew. And the welcome at the gate? Despicable.”
Harry nodded. It had been odd, the way they’d been ordered out of the carriage at the entrance, and how the carriage had been searched. Yet, the gate keeper had not seemed surprised to see the Coat of Arms of House Keswick on the carriage.
“Something odd is going on here, in any case. I noted we were not the only carriage searched. The one before us was also. The number of people roaming the property alone is strange.”
He’d seen groups of people riding out, searching the bushes and buildings along the road. What were they looking for? He swallowed, once again worried what this might imply. Surely, they weren’t looking for…
No, he would not be so stupid as to allow himself to be caught. Certainly not.
The entire journey to Cheshire he found himself a bundle of nerves. These past few weeks, he had held his carefully spun plans close to his chest. Over and over he examined his actions from these past few weeks. The closer they came to Vallant Castle, the more concerned he’d grown. Did Lysander know who was after him? Had he put everything together at last? Or was there time? Could he still save himself?
“Look at that woman.” His mother’s voice was almost a growl. She peered up at something, or someone. Harry sighed and looked up. On the second floor, the face of a woman was visible behind the curtain. She looked down at them with a pinched mouth and narrowed eyes.
“I bet that is her. The imposter who bears my name. The Duchess of Oxshire.” She spun around. “I ought to be Duchess.”
“You are, Mother. Well, Dowager Duchess at least.”
She slapped his arm. “Duchess of Oxshire. You know that is what I meant, Harry.” She leaned back and fanned herself with her handkerchief.
Harry sat back silently and said nothing. He couldn’t quite describe how he was feeling. This was not a place he’d ever considered visiting, not unless it was rightfully restored to him and his family. And yet, here he was. Because of Lysander. Everything always came back to Lysander.
Suddenly, just outside the window, the galloping sound of horses passing by could be heard. He scooted closer to the window and looked out. Indeed, a group of men rode past the carriage. At the head he recognized the Duke of Oxshire himself. He’d never met him in person. However, he remembered him from a portrait he’d seen.
“Where are they going in such haste?” his mother asked as she joined him on his side of the window.
He shrugged, but then a moment later they both saw exactly where they were going. His mother gave a gasp and grasped his hand. “It is him!”
Harry swallowed hard and felt himself growing cold. Indeed, just a short distance away, was Lysander. In his arms, he carried a young woman. The Duke had just reached them, and Harry watched as he exchanged words with Lysander. The Duke then took the young woman from Lysander’s arms.
Behind Lysander was Liam, atop a brown horse Harry didn’t recognize. However, it wasn’t Liam’s, or Lysander’s presence that alarmed him. It was the man that was being hauled from Liam’s horse at present.
Harry couldn’t make out the man’s face from the distance. However, he knew who he was right away.
Luke Dawson.
It was over.
Chapter 38
“Seraphina!” the Duke rushed toward them as they neared the Castle, his eyes wide and his face running with sweat.
“Papa,” she called out.
“Are you hurt?” The Duke rushed to take her from Lysander’s arms.
“Only my ankle. It is worse than before, but I am unharmed.”
“This is the man who took her, Papa,” Lady Cynthia called out.
The Duke’s nostrils flared. “Take him,” he ordered the footmen who rushed toward Liam’s horse and pulled the man down.
“I take it you saved my daughter,” the Duke directed his words at Lysander, who nodded.
“It was a joint effort between the three of us, yes.”
I ought to tell him that the man who took her is the very one who caused my accident. But will he hate me even more, then?
He shook his head at the idea. He’d have to tell him and take whatever repercussions came his way. He knew that no matter what, Seraphina’s love was a certainty. He glanced into her eyes once more, drinking in her love as they smiled at one another.
“He is Lucas Dawson. He owned a farm on my estate until recently.”
The Duke frowned. “One of your farmers took my daughter?”
Lysander shuddered at his tone. Certainly, he would blame him. Even if he explained that his brother had acted on his behalf and thus drawn the wrath of the farmer upon him, he’d still be blamed. And rightly so.
“It seems that way. He was also the one who chased your daughter and I through the woods when she first hurt her ankle. And he caused my accident.”
The Duke’s visage darkened further. “What have you done to elicit such anger from the man?”
Lysander was about to open his mouth when Dawson raised his voice.
“He let his brother take my farm in his name, for he cares nothing about those below him! Despicable, he is. Despicable. Your Grace, believe everything you hear about the Keswicks. It is all true. Death is too good for the lot of you.”
“I have had enough of this,” Liam said kicking the man in the behind with his right foot. Lysander was about to explain the circumstance when the Duke shook his head.
“No matter. I have had my fair share of disgruntled farmers. Though none that have attempted to kill me, thus far. We will have him taken into the dungeon below the Castle and we will question him there. First I must attend to my daughter.”
He turned and helped Seraphina onto his horse, leading the steed by the rein toward the Castle. “Come, and your cousin too, if he pleases.”
Lysander looked at Liam and the two joined the small procession as they made their way back toward the Castle when Dawson, now being led on foot, suddenly called out.
“There, there he is. His Grace’s henchman. Go ask your fine brother what he did to me and Patterson. Go ask him!”
Every head turned into the direction he’d indicated. Up ahead, stopped outside the Castle’s steps, was his very own carriage. His father’s Coat of Arms, the very same that had led him to recover his memory, was emblazoned on the side. Presently Harry was rushing out of the carriage, dragging their mother behind him by the arm as though she were a common strumpet.
Then, to Lysander’s utter bewilderment, Harry climbed atop the front of the carriage and pushed the coachman, Mr. Lester, down from the seat and took the reins for himself. A moment later, the carriage turned, and Harry drove the horses toward the gatehouse and away from the Castle.
“Liam!” Lysander called out to his cousin.
“Yes, I see it too.”
“What is he doing?”
“Running! Must have seen me and now he’s running!” Dawson laughed out loud at the surreal situation.
“Your Grace,” Lysander addressed the Duke, “Please, I must follow my brother and —”
The Duke waved his arm dismissively. “Go ahead, go ahead. I shall take care of the horses and Seraphina. And the prisoner.”
“And my Mother.” Lysander looked down at the path where his mother now stood, alone. Several servants and townspeople had stopped to look at her. She appeared utterly lost.
The Duke sighed, “And your Mother. I will ensure she is well attended to.” He paused. “I supposed her opinion of the Camdens is akin to my wife’s opinion of the Keswicks?”
Lysander grimaced. “I am afraid so.”
The Duke nodded, “Right. I shall have to brace myself.”
With that, he moved ahead. From atop the horse, Seraphina turned and looked back at Lysander. Glancing around to ensure nobody saw, she mouthed ‘I love you’ at him. Gra
teful for this small gesture of love, he broke into a smile and blew her a kiss.
“Lysander! The carriage!” Liam called out and set off, galloping after Harry. Lysander tore his gaze from Seraphina and raced his horse after his cousin.
“What is all of this about? Is it all really true? Has Harry evicted people from their farms in my name?” he called.
Liam looked over, his brown hair waving in the wind.
“Your brother is not who you think he is. It seems he has mismanaged the estate on your behalf. I have found several tenants who were removed from the estate in your name, as I said. And more who were threatened into paying higher rents.”
Lysander thought back to the revenue the estate had generated since he’d put Harry in charge. They had increased, yes. However, he’d put it down to Harry’s skill, rather than the evident extortion which had been going on.
Harry, how could you? To mistreat the tenants that rely upon us, and to abuse my trust—
“I cannot believe it. Why?”
Liam shook his head. “We will soon find out. Here, cut through the forest, we will catch him quicker that way.” He made a sharp right turn, followed by Lysander. They charged through the forest, the branches striking them as they went with their hands raised to soften the blows.
Their dash paid off, for they arrived back on the road with the carriage still some ways behind them. Harry appeared to have slowed the horses down, now that he was some distance from the Castle.
Liam eyed Lysander, his expression troubled.
“Lysander, I fear Harry was behind it all. Misleading the tenants into thinking the orders to raise rents came from you. That you were evicting them.”
Liam was silent, allowing Lysander to reach the conclusion himself. It took him but a moment.
“He wanted them to dislike me. But why?”
Liam nodded. “So, when he took over the Dukedom, he could appear benevolent. So, he could be revered and loved.”
Lysander narrowed his eyes.
“But he would never be Duke. I would have to…no. He would not. Not my own brother.”
The thought that Harry might have done something to encourage Dawson to hunt him down, and to kill him was too far-fetched, too terrible to even entertain.
Liam shrugged. “It was Harry who put Dawson out, knowing his nature. It was Harry who assured you he was handling the affairs of the estate. It was Harry who was supposed to be in charge of the search for your assailant.” He stopped as Lysander’s face grew ever paler.
“It was Harry who knew I would be racing my curricle the night the boulders appeared in my path. Only he and the groom knew. And the groom would never…but Harry? My own brother?”
I cannot believe this to be true. Surely, my brother would not set me up to be hunted and killed? He could never—
He paused. He could. There had always been something about his brother. Something that was just not right. He’s always tried to ignore it, giving him as much responsibility as he could to make him feel valued, for he knew that his mother never ceased to belittle him. But still there had always been something not quite right about Harry. But this? To plot Lysander’s murder? No.
“I refuse to believe it. Not until I hear it with my own ears.”
Liam nodded. “We will hear him out. There is he now.”
The two had remained hidden behind trees so that they could see the carriage, but Harry could not see them. Now that the carriage was upon them, they rode out quickly, startling the horses who bucked.
“Damn it!” Harry cursed and pulled the reins, so the horses rushed to the right. Lysander saw the look of panic in his brother’s eyes and he knew then that Liam’s assertions had to be right. Why else would he run?
“Harry, halt!” he ordered as his brother attempted to get the horses to run once more.
Liam rode around to the other side and snatched the reins from Harry’s hands, while Lysander grabbed his brother by the collar, dragging him off the seat and onto the ground. Once Harry was down, Lysander jumped off the horse and pulled him up, standing him upright against the carriage.
For the first time in weeks, the brothers were face to face. They locked eyes, Harry’s blue ones full of defiance and anger. Lysander’s brown eyes full of hurt, for the truth he knew he was about to hear.
Chapter 39
Harry stared at his brother and saw something that almost made him smile. There, in his brother’s eyes was a glimmer of hope.
Oh, Lysander. He will carry the torch for hope even when it is clear there is none.
He stared at him unblinking and then, after they had glared at one another for some time, Lysander averted his eyes. Understanding crossing his face.
“Please tell me they are wrong in what they say. Tell me you did not evict Dawson. Patterson. Mrs. Sheridan. Please tell me you did not betray me. Not you, my brother.”
Harry considered lying for a moment. Perhaps Lysander would listen to him still. Perhaps he could find a way out of all of this. There might be a way yet. Pin it all on Dawson. Tell him everyone else was lying.
But now, he could not. There was evidence. He knew it. There were notes in his handwriting, given to Dawson which he’d surely kept. There had been witnesses at times. Ones he’d paid off but who would surely talk, now Lysander was back. It was no use. The game was over.
With a sigh, he shrugged.
“It was. I did. And I am not sorry. These people were leeches on the estate that had to be dealt with.”
“They are people, with families that you harmed. In my name!”
“Yes, in your name. For you would not do it on your own. You would do nothing that needed to be done. You hated being Duke. I, on the other hand…I would have been a fantastic Duke. If only you—”
He stopped when he saw the sudden flash of fury on Lysander’s face. A moment later he found himself thrown against the side of the carriage.
“If what? If I had just died?”
“If you had never been born. If you had never been born, I would have been Duke. I would have fought to restore our family’s property, instead of trying to break bread with those who stole it. I would have run the estate the way it ought to have been. Won the respect that you and Father lost. I would have made our Grandfather proud. Unlike you.”
The fury on Lysander’s face was replaced by sorrow.
“Have you always hated me so?”
Lysander let go of Harry’s collar, and he straighten his waist coat.
“Since I realized how ungrateful you were. And since I realized I would never be allowed to live up to my own potential, simply due to the order of my birth. You know Mother once told me that there was no use for a second son, once the first son had an heir? She was right. If only I had been the first born, there would have been no need for you.”
His words wounded Lysander; he could see it. A part of him felt sorry to say these things, but they had to be said. They had been stored inside of his heart for far too long to be kept any longer.
“What was your plan?” Liam spoke up now, having joined Lysander. He could see his cousin had placed a comforting hand on Lysander’s shoulder. Something nobody had ever done for him.
“The plan? Is it not obvious? Have Dawson take out Lysander. Mourn my late, great Brother, and then take the position myself. Mother would have at last been forced to acknowledge me. Respect me.”
“But how? How where you going to have Dawson kill me? He did not seem to think—”
Harry sighed, exasperated at it all.
“I made sure he knew it was you who wanted him out. Then, I made a few suggestions. Such as, that perhaps a more benevolent Duke might not be so harsh. And that it would be a shame should something happen to you. From there, it was easy. Dawson needed little convincing.”
Lysander shook his head. “But how…I recall the boulders in the road. Only you and the groom knew I would be racing that night. How did Dawson—”
“Notes. I wrote him notes. Whenever I kne
w you would be alone, take a ride, race…even your trip to Yorkshire. I would write it down and have the notes delivered to Dawson. He never knew who sent them, but he used them. Time and again. And time and again, you would just not die. How tedious.”
Inside, he felt a pang of remorse. His words were true, Lysander had been kind to him, had tried to help him, but it was all too late now. He’d gone too far, done and said too much.
The Trouble with Saving a Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 26