by Joyce Alec
“Did you fall?” said the voice, a gentle hand settling upon his shoulder. “Can you rise, my lord? I will fetch another footman to be of assistance to you.”
Realizing that it was a footman, Duncan slowly attempted to sit up, finding his head aching all the more as he lifted it from the cold floor, his arms shaking slightly as he did so. It took a great deal of effort but, eventually, he was able to stand. Another footman joined them, helping Duncan to make his way across the hallway as he fought to clear his vision. He could not put his full weight on his right leg, his ankle still burning painfully.
“There is a small parlor here, my lord,” said the first footman, sounding more than a little anxious. The two footmen helped him into the room, settling him into a chair although Duncan could not help but groan as he sat down. The second footman hurried around the room, lighting candles and wondering aloud whether or not they ought to light a fire in order to keep Duncan warm. Duncan closed his eyes and murmured no, leaving both footmen to look at each other, wondering what they were to do next.
“Shall I send for a doctor?” said the first as Duncan opened his eyes. “I should also inform the master, I—”
“Do not do so,” Duncan bit out, hardly able to speak, such was the pain coursing through him. “I must see Lord and Lady Richmond, and Lady Juliet also.”
The second footman hurried off the moment Duncan had finished speaking, leaving the first to continue to question what he could bring and what he could do for Duncan. Reiterating that there was no need to bother the master of the house and stating that a whisky would suit him very well indeed, Duncan placed his head back against the chair and let out a long breath, trying to unsuccessfully blow away some of his pain. The footman pressed a whisky into his hand and then stood there anxiously, clearly very concerned for Duncan’s health.
You may have escaped thrice.
The words the man had shouted before he had successfully managed to throw Duncan down the staircase echoed around his mind. Three times? That made very little sense to him, for he could only recall the time he had avoided the object thrown at him and thereafter, the incident with the poisoned brandy. What could have been the third?
“Lord Strickland!”
The door to the parlor flew open and four figures hurried in one after the other.
“Lord Strickland, are you quite all right?” Lady Juliet cried, hurrying toward him, her eyes wide with fright. “You fell down the staircase?”
Lord and Lady Richmond were just behind her, their faces etched with worry.
“I did not fall,” Duncan replied, shifting his weight from one side of the chair to the other, wincing as he did so. “I was pushed.”
A gasp of astonishment pulled itself from the assembled group as the two footmen stood by the door, glancing at each other.
“You saw the person in question?” Lord Richmond demanded before turning on his heel to look at the two footmen. “Did either of you?”
Duncan closed his eyes and took in another long breath, very aware of the pain that was beginning to settle in his ribs, his ankle, and the side of his head. “I did not,” he replied heavily. “I was taken by surprise and in the struggle, did not see the gentleman’s face clearly.”
“I saw nothing, my lord,” the first footman replied, his eyes flaring with obvious fright. “I heard a commotion and hurried to the bottom of the staircase, where I saw Lord…Lord…”
“Lord Strickland,” Lady Richmond reminded him and the footman nodded, gesturing toward Duncan.
“I saw Lord Strickland lying at the bottom of the staircase but neither heard nor saw anything more.”
Duncan, who had expected as much, nodded carefully so that he would not compound the pain in his head. “I did not think there was anyone else present,” he said as Lady Juliet dropped into a chair, Mrs. Grey following suit. “This gentleman, whoever he was, remained above stairs once I had fallen. I am sure he has returned to the ball now.”
Lady Juliet closed her eyes and ran one hand over her forehead, clearly distraught. “It could not have been Lord Redford or Lord Haverstock,” she said quietly as Lady Richmond sent the footmen away for something to eat and drink for them all, given that they had been required to leave the dining room so quickly. “They were both sitting near to us during your absence.”
Duncan held her gaze, seeing the paleness of her cheeks and wondering just how he appeared at present. “Then we have only one gentleman left to consider,” he said somberly, glad that both footmen had left the room so that he might speak openly. “A gentleman that I do not know and have never once been acquainted with.”
Lady Juliet nodded as Lord and Lady Richmond sat down, their faces still etched with concern.
“Viscount Brookmire,” Mrs. Grey murmured as Lady Richmond nodded. “I do wonder, Lord Strickland, if it is not Lord Brookmire’s dislike of you—for whatever reason—that presses him into action, but rather the lady’s promise of reward.”
“It very well may be,” Duncan agreed heavily, feeling his heart quail just a little. There was so much that he did not understand, so much that he could not make sense of, and it felt as though he was on the threshold of a great and terrible danger that he could not fully anticipate. “Whilst I will not go into the details of what occurred, what I will mention is that this particular fellow, whoever he is, shouted something about my escaping from him three times, along with the promise that I should not manage a fourth time.”
Lord Richmond let out a hard laugh. “Then it seems you have proved him wrong,” he said with a grimace. “But three times?”
Lady Juliet caught her breath. “The highwaymen,” she spoke as everyone turned toward her. “I did wonder if there was something more to the fact that you and I had both come to London on the same day, having both seen the efforts of the highwaymen, as well as the fact that they attempted to attack your carriage but, being unsuccessful, did not linger to attempt another upon my carriage also.”
A frown creased Duncan’s brow, bringing with it a fresh stab of pain. “You mean to say that you believe the highwaymen sought only me?” he asked doubtfully. “That cannot be so, given what occurred to the unfortunate souls that your father discovered.”
This brought a look of confusion to Lady Juliet’s expression, her eyes narrowing for a moment as she looked at the floor, her lip caught between her teeth.
“Perhaps there is something of more significance to that strange letter than we have first thought,” Lord Richmond suggested. “You are to study it tomorrow, are you not?”
“I am,” Duncan replied, hardly daring to hope that such a thing might be. “Although quite what I am to discover from it, I cannot imagine given that Lady Juliet has already studied it at length.”
Lady Juliet took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, her eyes still flickering from one place to the next, apparently still struggling to connect what had been said by the man who had attacked Duncan with what she now believed.
“I should return home,” Duncan said, trying to shift himself out of the chair and finding the pain too great to move too much. Embarrassment raced through him as he reached for his brandy, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I do not think it is necessary to alert Lord Whittaker to what has happened, however.”
“I have sent for refreshments to be brought,” Lady Richmond reminded him. “I think it would be best if you ate something before you even try to make your way to your carriage.”
Duncan hesitated, then nodded. “Very well,” he agreed, aware that there was now a slight tremble taking a hold of his frame as he sank back into the chair. “I will wait.”
As though they had been waiting for him to say such a thing, the door opened and the two footmen returned, laden with refreshments which they set down carefully for the small, assembled group.
“What else might we fetch for you, Lord Strickland?” one asked as they stood to attention. “What is it that you require?”
“I would know if Viscount Brookmire
is present this evening,” Duncan replied, and the two footmen glanced at each other. “That is all I need at present.” He gave them both a curt nod. “You will have plenty of other duties this evening and I will be quite recovered in a short while, I am sure of it. Pray do not feel the need to linger or to inform Lord Whittaker of this situation. There is no need to trouble him given that the rest of the evening has gone as well as it has.”
The two footmen nodded, promised that one of them would return with news about Lord Brookmire, and then swiftly departed, leaving Duncan to look around the room at the others, seeing their severe expressions.
“Then it must be Lord Brookmire,” Lord Richmond said heavily. “And the highwaymen must have been the first attempt to injure you.”
“It may not even have been highwaymen,” Lady Juliet murmured, tilting her head and looking at him with questions burning in her eyes. “It could have been a mere pretense, set up to appear as though it were such a thing but intent solely on injuring you.”
Mrs. Grey cleared her throat gently, catching their attention. “It may very well be that they wished to remove your life from this world entirely, Lord Strickland,” she said as the others simply sat quietly, in obvious agreement. “You must take a great deal more care now, I believe. If you had fallen harder, if you had…” She trailed off and looked away, her face pale. “It could have been a great deal worse.”
“But it was not,” he answered, refusing to let any fear take a hold of his heart. “And whilst I will not be grateful for the pain that now lingers, I am glad that there is now very little doubt as to which gentleman it was that attempted such a thing.”
“Lord Brookmire,” Lady Juliet murmured as everyone else nodded. “Then, if we are aware of it, the question now comes as to what we are to do next?”
Duncan’s lips twisted. “Indeed, Lady Juliet,” he agreed softly. “Just what are we to do?”
The following afternoon, Duncan’s ankle was a little better, but he was still unable to walk without support. The rest of his body burned with pain no matter how he sat or stood. It had been difficult to rise from his bed and to have to request help from his staff had been somewhat embarrassing. However, after dressing and eating a hearty breakfast, he felt a good deal better.
You have escaped thrice.
Those words had not left him. They had been spoken with anger and vehemence, making him realize—as Mrs. Grey had said herself—that he was in a good deal more danger than he had ever anticipated. Lord Brookmire, if it was he who was doing such things, appeared to be more than a little furious that Duncan had thus far managed to escape from severe injury—or worse. That thought had been a sobering one. If his life was to be taken from him, then what was the purpose behind it? His cousin was the one who would take the title and Duncan was more than certain that there was no such dark vehemence within the man.
Unless I have been mistaken about that, he mused to himself, sitting down rather heavily in an overstuffed chair in the drawing room, letting his body relax against the cushions. The footman set out a stool for his ankle and Duncan nodded to him, gesturing to him that he might leave him now. Closing his eyes, he let his mind return to his cousin. Did he know him so little? Was there a hidden eagerness within him that would go so far as to take Duncan’s life from him simply to gain the title? Try as he might, Duncan simply could not find it in his heart to believe it.
“My lord, you have visitors.”
Duncan did not even open his eyes. “Of course,” he murmured, trying to find the strength to push himself to his feet. “Show them in at once.” With an effort, he opened his eyes and put his hands on the arms of the chair, about to attempt to push himself to his feet, when Lady Juliet stepped into the room and let out a startled exclamation.
“Lord Strickland, pray do not,” she said, hurrying toward him. “You are still in pain, are you not?”
Gratefully, Duncan sank back down into his chair as Mrs. Grey and Lord and Lady Richmond came in after Lady Juliet. “You can tell as much simply by looking at me, Lady Juliet?” he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Do I truly look that terrible?”
Lady Juliet hesitated, then smiled, although her eyes still lingered on him. “You are a little grey,” she answered honestly. “And the way you set your jaw made it quite apparent that you were in a little difficulty.” She sat down, smoothing her skirts as she did so. “Besides which, there is no need for any ceremony,” she finished. “Not when we know what you have endured.”
“Indeed,” Lord Richmond muttered, tilting his head as he looked at Duncan. “You are a little recovered, at least?”
“I am still in some pain, but I can walk, at least,” Duncan replied with a wry smile. “Although I thank you for your assistance last evening, Lord Richmond.” Lord Richmond had been required to help Duncan to his carriage, which had been most embarrassing, but, much to Duncan’s relief, had been achieved without either of them being spotted by any other guests.
Lord Richmond waved a hand, dismissing Duncan’s thanks. “Now, this letter, Lady Juliet,” he said as maids came in to set out tea and cakes for them all. “Did you bring it with you?”
Lady Juliet nodded and quickly extracted it from her person. “Here,” she said, glancing from Duncan to Lord Richmond, as though uncertain as to who she was to give it to. “As I have said, there is nothing within it.”
Seeing Lord Richmond gesture that she ought to give to Duncan rather than to himself, Duncan again attempted to rise so that Lady Juliet would not have to do so, only for her to hurry across to him in a flurry of skirts, a sharp look in her eye. With a murmur of thanks, Duncan took it and then sat back down, whilst Lady Juliet asked if she might pour the tea. With a nod, Duncan looked down at the letter, seeing the flecks of blood that stained the outside. His stomach turned over. It was not that the blood itself made him feel so, but rather the thought of what had happened in order for it to occur in the first place. Grimacing, he turned it over and saw the broken seal, lifting it first and then spreading the letter out.
It was just as Lady Juliet had said. There was nothing written there, nothing that he could see at all. His heart sank. Whilst he had known that Lady Juliet had stated very clearly that there were no words written there, part of him had hoped that there would be something present that he could distinguish, something that she had missed.
But there was not.
“Might I?” Lord Richmond asked, getting up to take the letter from Duncan’s outstretched hand. “There is nothing there, then?”
“Nothing,” Duncan replied heavily, before smiling gratefully at Lady Juliet as she set a teacup on the small table beside him. “It is exactly as Lady Juliet has said.”
“Which is to be expected,” Lady Richmond said dryly. “Were you hoping for something else, Lord Strickland?”
Duncan allowed a heavy sigh to pass through his lips. “I do not know what I was hoping for, Lady Richmond,” he said honestly. “To know that the highwaymen were not merely a group of men set on doing harm to anyone they could but, instead, that they were present solely to bring harm to me has made my mind and heart very heavy indeed.”
“I can well understand that,” Lady Richmond answered gently. “It is very strange that one of the men in the carriage before you was attacked in such a cruel fashion, however, if they were only waiting for you.”
“Perhaps it was meant to be proof that they were highwaymen,” Lady Juliet suggested with a frown. “Although we shall know more soon, I hope.”
Duncan’s brows rose. “Oh?”
“My father has been in correspondence with a Mr. Johnson,” she said, by way of explanation. “It is he who has been taking care of the third man we found, who was, I believe, barely alive when they found him.” Her lips turned downwards, her eyes glistening as memories returned to her. “He was also responsible for burying the two others.”
“A good man,” Lord Richmond rumbled as Duncan nodded. “And you say that he has been in correspondence
with your father?”
“Yes, that is so,” Lady Juliet replied with a small, sad smile. “My father was greatly troubled by what we discovered and has, I believe, been quite hopeful that the third man, whoever he is, will recover to the point of being able to not only say what occurred but perhaps describe those who attacked him. The letter was on his person also, although my father is unaware that I have it still. I know that my father wishes to know the moment the unfortunate soul is able to speak without restraint or difficulty.”
A new admiration rose in Duncan’s chest for Lord Lansbury. “That is very good of your father.”
“Mr. Johnson wrote only this morning to state that the man has begun to recover somewhat,” Lady Juliet continued, sounding quite relieved. “He was, for some time, between life and death and we were not certain that he would recover. But now, it seems, that he is well on the way to recovery and will soon be able to tell us a little more, once he has recovered his strength.”
Duncan nodded slowly, rubbing his chin for a moment. “Then we might be able to discover something more about these highwaymen very soon,” he said hopefully. “I cannot be certain whether or not this man’s description of those who attacked him will bring anything more to light, but we can certainly make sense of why he was carrying such a strange letter.”
“Might I ask if there is knowledge of this man’s name?” Lady Richmond asked, and Lady Juliet began to frown hard, looking toward Mrs. Grey. “I presume he was so grievously injured that, as yet, he has been unable to say more than a word or two.”
“I—I believe he did,” Lady Juliet said slowly as Mrs. Grey nodded. “My father told me of it this morning. I cannot be certain, but I believe it was one Mr. Ayles?” She looked again to Mrs. Grey, who twisted her lips for a moment and then confirmed it.
“Yes, I believe that was correct,” she said quietly. “A Mr. Ayles. We know nothing more, however. The poor fellow has been unable to say more than a word or two, apparently, given his lack of strength.”