A Lady Unrivaled

by Roseanna M. White

  He looked sad. Full of regret. Yet he walked to the car—Cayton’s car—idling on a little rutted road beyond the copse and opened the passenger-side door, motioning for her to get in. “I hope you’ll forgive me. It isn’t how I planned it, but we’re out of time.” He studied her so intently. His eyes were empty, dark, hollow, and she had a feeling he only kept one monster on a leash because he had another inside to keep it company. “Come, my lady. Get in.”

  The car looked so black inside. She dug in her heels. She needed to scream. No one from the castle was likely to hear her all the way out here, but there was always a chance someone was on the road and—

  “Can I gag her yet?” Dorsey sounded far too eager. “Or I can knock her upside the head.”

  “Dorsey, please. Lady Ella is going to be on her best behavior. Aren’t you, darling?”

  The other man loosed a growl. “You said I’d get to have fun today.”

  She was definitely going to be sick.

  “And there is a whole castle full of people with whom you can have fun if Ella doesn’t cooperate. And her precious Cayton and his brat, for that matter—they should be finishing up their errands in town and heading to the castle any minute. You can start wherever you like, if she doesn’t get quietly into the car.”

  She got quietly into the car. An unexpected peace settled on her as she did, coating over the fear and the sick and the surety that she was an idiot. An unexpected peace that whispered an unexpected realization.

  She should have trusted her instincts.

  Twenty-Six

  Do you have absolutely everything you need?” Cayton stood in the doorway of Ralin’s nursery, too unsettled to keep from showing it. He put his hands in his pockets, drew them out again. Paced a step forward, stopped.

  Addie was already playing with her cousin and his blocks, those happy squeals bludgeoning him. He couldn’t let her go. He had to let her go. It was ripping him to shreds.

  Tabby smoothed her apron and nodded. “Enough to get us through a few days, and the duchess will supply what else we need before we go. I couldn’t pack too much, milord—it would have looked strange.”

  “I know.” He wanted to pick Addie up again. Hold her close. Breathe in talcum powder and lavender one last time before leaving. But he probably shouldn’t disturb her. Sometimes she could be so sensitive, picking up on his mood. He’d likely set her to crying, and then they’d all be miserable.

  But he’d never been away from her for more than an hour or two.

  Unable to stop himself, he strode over, scooped her up, and pretended to gobble her belly so he could hear her soul-deep laughter.

  Addie held on tight once he righted her, grinning that perfect baby grin, and leaned forward to press her mouth to his cheek in a sloppy baby kiss.

  He was undone. Ripped to shreds. “I love you, angel. Be good for Tabby. And for Ella. Make her smile for me, and laugh, and she’ll do the same for you.”

  He had yet to talk to Ella, of course, didn’t know for sure she’d agree to his plan. But he’d seen to everything in the village anyway. He’d bought the tickets to put her on the southbound train with his daughter. He’d sent a wire to Midwynd Park, in case her brother hadn’t left yet. He’d sent another to his mother, telling her to head there too when she arrived back in England.

  He knew this was the one plea that would convince Ella to leave. There was no possible way she could deny him when he asked her to keep his baby safe—when he put his precious Addie into her care until all this was over. She may have a few choice names to call him for manipulating her so, but she would agree. She would leave, taking Addie with her. And he would send them off with the promise that when it was all finished, he would come for them both. They’d have a proper courtship. He’d whisper the truth of his love in her ear and let her plan that September wedding.

  Assuming he lived to keep his promise.

  Tabby eased closer, a frown in place. “You’ll be up again before we go, won’t you? And you’ll follow within a day. It’s just a day.”

  “That’s right. Just a day.” Unless something went wrong. And recalling the roiling hatred in Rushworth’s eyes, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very likely to go wrong. He turned to Tabby. “If something were to happen—which it won’t, of course, but if it does—the houses, everything will go to Addie. I’ve already arranged that. Stafford will be in charge of the trust until she comes of age, but I’ve long ago set aside enough for your family. You’ll stay, won’t you? She’ll need you, especially at first.”

  Tabby’s eyes had gone wide as twin moons. “Why are you talking this way, milord? Nothing will happen, you said. The authorities will be there, everyone will be safe.”

  “Of course we will be.” Unless they weren’t. He attempted a smile, though given how weak it felt, it probably did little to convince her. “I’ll just feel better knowing Addie has everyone she loves around her if the unexpected happens.”

  Tabby’s hands fisted in her apron. “You’re the one she loves best, milord. She’ll not be happy without you. Remember that today.”

  “I will.” He pressed a kiss to Addie’s forehead and then set her back on the floor. “Just promise me.”

  Tabby blustered out a sigh. “I promise. I’ll see Addie’s as happy as she can be. And my brother can see that you don’t get in any trouble you shouldn’t.”

  Evans was already at Ralin too, ready to help however they needed. Felicity’s labor had begun as Cayton was calling for the carriage—Cayton had spent half an hour trying to track down Dr. Fields in the village, only to be forced to resort to the midwife. But Mrs. Higgins had banished all the menfolk from the house as Cayton left, saying they were none of them needed underfoot.

  Just as well. All hands may be needed in this plot, so they were now belowstairs with Ralin’s menservants. “He will. And I thank you.” He set a hand briefly on her shoulder and then forced himself out the door. “I’ll be back up before you go.”

  The train heading south left in three hours. Hopefully it would give him time enough to convince Ella to be on it, even if her brother hadn’t yet arrived to drag her home. Then he and Stafford could call the constable, and they could put this scheme into action.

  He took the stairs down two at a time, feeling more unsettled with each footfall. He needed to see Ella. He’d take her in his arms again, without any pretense of a faux argument. He’d hold her tightly, kiss her softly, as she deserved to be kissed, and confess his heart. He’d beg her to take Addie and go.

  His feet headed, therefore, to the library, rather than to his cousin’s study. Yet as he drew near, he saw the library’s thick door was open—unusual. And from within came not the sounds of Ella’s muttering to herself or her pen scratching furiously over paper, but male murmurs. Stafford’s, and another he couldn’t place so readily. Whitby, perhaps, back from Yorkshire? Cayton stepped in, then nearly retreated again when he saw it was Nottingham with his cousin. They fell silent at his entrance.

  He took a step back. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just looking for . . .” He trailed off at Nottingham’s raised brows. Cleared his throat. “I’ll just go and—”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” Nottingham didn’t so much as budge, just stood there with his hands slung in his pockets and a benign smile upon his face. “Sit down. Now.”

  Cayton really wasn’t all that fond of dukes who thought they ruled the world.

  He sat down.

  Nottingham didn’t, just turned toward Cayton’s chair and towered over him. “Good to see you again, Cayton.”

  “Likewise.” If he could have avoided the duke until all this was over, he would have been thrilled beyond words. Then he’d have earned himself a bit of credit by putting the needs of Ella and Addie first and seeing that everything was finally resolved. Now . . . now he probably looked exactly like the man he used to be, kissing a girl in one moment and declaring he didn’t even like her in the next.

  Thou
gh perhaps Ella hadn’t told him about that. He could hope.

  Nottingham smiled. “Hard to believe it’s been nine months already. Last time I saw you, you were deprived of sleep and all but unconscious on Whitby’s couch.”

  “And you hadn’t been married a fortnight yet.” He forced a smile, prayed it looked pleasant. “I hear congratulations are in order on a new generation coming any day.”

  “Thank you.” Nottingham beamed. “And I hear you and my sister have come to know each other a bit this last month.”

  Nottingham might just kill him before Rushworth got the chance. Cayton dug his fingers into the arms of the chair and tried again to clear his throat. “A bit.”

  “Or maybe more than a bit, if I’m to believe Brook.”

  And he hadn’t even gotten to kiss her again, to say good-bye. Would it be unmanly to beg for mercy? He rubbed at his neck. “We’ve become friends.”

  Nottingham arched a brow.

  Cayton’s throat refused to be cleared. “Good friends?”

  Nottingham’s other brow joined the first. “Good friends, yes. That’s . . . closer to what Brook describes. Good friends who . . . close themselves off in the library for an hour each day. And then go for long walks together. Every day.”

  He knew Brook had never liked him, but he wouldn’t have thought she’d sign his death warrant so blithely. “She’s . . . good company.”

  Nottingham snorted a laugh and let his brows return to their usual positions. “I’ve never been much for playing cards, Cayton, so I’m just going to put them all on the table. She loves you—you know that, don’t you? She loves you so much that she’s quite determined to stay here, no matter the risk to herself.”

  Cayton surged to his feet. “You can’t allow it, Duke. You can’t. It’s far too dangerous, and I didn’t go behind her back to call you up here just so she could talk you into letting her stay!”

  Nottingham’s lips twitched up. He turned to Stafford, who sat grinning on the sofa. “You’re right. He does love her just as much.”

  “Told you.”

  Cayton hissed out a breath and pivoted away, back again. “I don’t much like either one of you. Do you know that?”

  The dukes laughed, and Nottingham came over to clap a hand to Cayton’s shoulder. “You’re going to have to get over that, if we’re to be brothers. You do intend to marry her, don’t you?”

  His hand wasn’t exactly light and friendly. Cayton scowled. “If she’ll have me once all this excitement has worn off. Though if she has a lick of sense, she probably won’t.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, Ella has never had a lick of sense. Right, Stafford?”

  “I once thought she did, but she proved me wrong by falling for him.” Stafford looked positively jovial as he stood, as if it weren’t a day for fleeing and giving up one’s daughter and quite possibly putting oneself in the path of a madman’s bullet. “Relax, Cayton. He just had to be sure. She’s his only sister.”

  “And I’d still like to see you together. I can’t quite picture it yet. Do you know where she is?”

  And now they were to be stuffed pheasants on display. Cayton rubbed at his neck again. “I couldn’t say. I rather thought she’d be down here.”

  “No, we sent her out in a rage. To ride, given her attire. That was, what, an hour ago?” Nottingham looked to Stafford for verification, and they exchanged nods. “She ought to wander back soon, I should think.”

  Cayton snorted, warmth blooming beneath it. “If she hasn’t lost herself, you mean.”

  “Her favorite thing to lose. Well, let’s set out and see if we can find her.” Brice patted his shoulder, using it to give him a push forward. He turned back to Stafford. “You’re right—this is fun.”

  “I imagined it would be.”

  Cayton shoved his hands in his pockets, though he doubted it had quite the same effect as when Nottingham did it. “I really, really don’t like either of you.” He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve such friends—a cousin who was always looking out for him, a woman who knew his past and his present and wanted to be part of his future, a brother-in-law who would always peer into his soul and speak the truth.

  The Lord had no reason to bless him as He’d done. If he died today, he would die more fortunate than he had a right to be. He would die with hope gleaming in his soul.

  Stafford led the way outside into the gaining sunshine, toward the stables. Over his shoulder he said, “We had a wire from Whitby this morning too. He’ll be arriving on the afternoon train. I daresay he has much to tell us.”

  “Much as I would like to see him, let’s hope we miss him and are on our way back home by then.” Nottingham stepped into the shadows of the stables. “Though I may have to bind and gag my sister to achieve that goal.” He shot a grin at Cayton.

  Cayton idly noted his own horses in their usual stalls—the roads were too muddy to risk his Renault. To Nottingham’s grin he had only a sigh to return. “I have a plan for that. I . . . I’m going to ask her to take Addie with her.”

  Stafford blinked at him. “You’ve never been apart from Addie for any amount of time.”

  “And I don’t want to be now, but I can’t have her here, in harm’s way. Where Rushworth could . . .” Nostrils flaring, Cayton shook his head. “She needs to be away. And I trust no one more than Ella to see to her safety.”

  “Manipulative. I fully approve, in this case.” Nottingham nodded, smiled again. “She’ll never be able to turn that plea down.”

  Stafford was peeking into the row of stalls. And frowning. “Star is here—she’s been Ella’s mount since Whit left with Tempesta. They’re all here that should be, other than the ones being exercised this time of day. She must have come back, slipped inside.”

  It should have relieved Cayton, if it meant she wasn’t out wandering on her own, that he could see her the sooner. But it only made urgency redouble in his chest. And the two dukes were walking too blasted slowly as they turned back to the castle. Didn’t they feel this electricity sizzling through him?

  Maybe not. They hadn’t seen that look in Rushworth’s eyes barely an hour and a half ago. They didn’t know how close he was to snapping. And that Ella was his focus.

  He had to find her, now. And get her out of the area, Addie in her arms, as soon as humanly possible.

  They ended up in the drawing room, where a pale Brook occupied a chair beside the couch—it took a moment for Cayton to realize there was another duchess reclining there, eyes closed and mouth tight as she rested a hand on her burgeoning stomach.

  Her obvious condition reminded him to say a quick, silent prayer for Felicity. First babies could be so slow in arriving, he knew—none of the men would be welcome back at Anlic for hours yet.

  Nottingham seemed to forget his sister in light of his wife. He kneeled at her side and inspired her eyes to open with a brush of fingertips across her cheek. “Have the pains got worse?”

  The Duchess of Nottingham’s face relaxed as she smiled. “No, they’ve stopped again, as they do. I told you, it willna be today.”

  Nottingham’s hum sounded dubious. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Lilias has gone to fetch me some tea.”

  “Lilias is back with the tea, actually. Excuse me, Yer Grace.”

  Stafford and Cayton took a step backward, making way for a middle-aged woman with a steaming cup. She slid it onto a table and settled beside Nottingham, fussing over her mistress with all the love of a mother.

  Stafford repositioned himself to be close to his wife’s side. “Have any of you seen Ella, by chance? Her horse is back in the stables and Cayton has a foolproof plan for getting her on that train in a few hours.”

  Brook’s brow creased. “She hasn’t come this way. Though if she’s still upset with us, she wouldn’t.” She pushed herself up. “I’ll check her room. Or perhaps the library.”

  “We were just in the library.” Stafford quirked a brow at Cayton. “Where else is she likely to go?”<
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  Nottingham’s gaze on him felt as heavy as an obligation and as sharp as Brook’s tongue.

  Cayton rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. “I know of no other places inside. She is always eager to get out-of-doors. The gardens, but only as a means to get to the wood. She always wants to head to the wood.”

  Nottingham’s mouth turned half up in a crooked smile. “You know her well. Perhaps we should divide and conquer. We can check the outside. I’ll cover the gardens.”

  Stafford nodded. “I’ll take the front acres, toward the road. She hasn’t gone there so far as I know, but she may have tried something unusual today, just to avoid us.”

  Brook pushed herself to her feet. “We ladies shall check the house.”

  Nottingham pointed a finger at his wife. “This lady will not budge.”

  Her maid straightened. “I’ll happily look for Lady Ella while Rowena rests, Yer Grace.”

  “Excellent. And Cayton can take the wood.”

  It was the most likely place to find her, and he knew well the dukes were granting him a favor by letting him cover that section of ground.

  So why, then, did the tightness in his chest only get worse?

  Twenty-Seven

  Kira’s heart pounded, her nerves were frayed beyond repair. And it wasn’t just the fault of the scream that tore from Felicity’s throat or the way her whole body curled upward, around her stomach, with the pain.

  That was normal. The stubborn tilt to the midwife’s chin was assuredly not. “I said get out. I don’t need the likes of you crowding my birth-room.”

  It wasn’t her birth-room, though Kira bit back the words. It was their bedroom, and Felicity wanted her here. She’d said so before the pains were so great, before she stopped caring who or what surrounded her. “I will not interfere, madame. I will just help. Fetch what you need. You can think of me as an apprentice.”

  The tall, bony woman narrowed her beady eyes. “What help do you think you can be, you who can barely speak English? I said to get out, and I meant it. Now get out.”