“Yes, I am. I did run out from my chambers, after all.”
“Let me get you inside, then. You will break a toe for certain.”
Sampson chuckled. “Am I that fragile?”
“You are the only Duke I have, Your Grace.”
Together they walked back to the house and through the door. Turning up the wick of a lamp, James picked it up. “Think he could have come in here?” James murmured, keeping his voice down to not wake the staff.
“That idea did occur to me,” Sampson replied, walking through the kitchen, the stove fires banked for the night. “But there are so many places he could hide, we’d never find him without waking the entire house and enlisting the aid of every servant.”
“By your leave,” James said, “I will conduct a quiet search this night.”
“First, accompany me to my sister’s quarters. I want to look in on her, make sure the intruder did not go there.”
“Of course. I should have considered that.”
Leading the way with James behind him with the lamp, Sampson went quickly, yet silently, through the house and up the stairs. They encountered no one, and it occurred to Sampson how easily a member of the staff might roam the house at night with impunity, and no one the wiser. So I cannot trust my servants? Surely this assassin comes from outside my home.
Before opening the door to his sister’s apartments, Sampson listened intently for any unusual sounds, James at his side. Hearing nothing, he silently opened it, James holding the lamp high to illuminate the room. Rosemary slept on her pallet, covered to the chin with a quilt. Beyond, Henrietta’s chamber where she slept with Miss Brent, lay dark and silent.
If the intruder came in here, surely he would have awakened them.
Closing the door as silently as he opened it, Sampson shook his head at James. “All quiet. I do not believe he came in here.”
“Nor do I,” James replied in an undertone. “Come, I will escort you back to your chambers.”
Thinking he would not be able to sleep the rest of the night, Sampson returned to his bed without waking Martin. Yet, he did succumb to slumber, and woke with the morning sunlight streaming through his windows. His head fuzzy and his eyes grainy from the lack of sleep, he nonetheless dressed quickly with Martin’s help and left his chambers.
On his way to breakfast, he encountered Miss Brent, who immediately dropped into a low curtsey. “Miss Brent.”
“Your Grace.”
“Have you dined?” he asked. “If not, I would ask you to join me. I must speak with you.”
“Gladly, Your Grace.”
Walking beside her, he could not help but notice the sweet scent of her hair, her grace of movement. Though she had bound up her hair into a tidy coiffure, he remembered how it looked flowing like a red-gold river down her back. “Miss Brent,” he began, feeling slightly awkward, “might I inquire as to how well you slept last night?”
She cast him a swift quizzical glance. “Both Lady Henrietta and I slept quite well. Thank you for asking.”
“We had an intruder on the grounds last night,” he said, his voice soft for her ears alone. “I feared he may have come to my sister’s chambers.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “Indeed, Your Grace. I will tell you I woke once, feeling eyes upon me. I sat up, but saw nothing. Even so, I found it alarming.”
Sampson nodded. “That may have been me, Miss Brent. I did open the door to make sure all was well with my sister. Where is she, by the way?”
“Rosemary has taken her to her breakfast.”
“And what are your plans for her today?”
“She is to practice her mathematics this day, Your Grace.” Miss Brent smiled.Her smile is so beautiful, he thought, entranced for a moment. “Then she must study history, which I fear bores her terribly.”
“’Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it,’” Sampson said, smiling. “How are her languages?”
“In those she is quite adept, Your Grace. You should be pleased with her progress.”
Arriving at the dining room, he encountered Henrietta and her maid, Rosemary. As the abigail curtseyed low, Henrietta did the same, then wrapped her arms around his waist. “Can I spend the day with you, Sampson?”
“What? And miss your history lesson?”
He chuckled as Henrietta made a face. “Not today, little sister,” he said. “But soon I will make time for you. I promise.”
“Very well.”
Pouting, Henrietta let herself be ushered away by Rosemary as Sampson and Miss Brent entered the dining room. Thomas bowed low, ready to serve, though only one place had been set at the table.
“Thomas, please set another place for Miss Brent. I wish to talk with her this morning.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Thomas bent his head, then pulled out a chair for Miss Brent before departing to fulfill Sampson’s request. While waiting for the meal, Sampson inquired after Henrietta and her studies. He liked looking at her, seeing her smile, her lustrous honey-colored eyes.
She might not be of noble blood, but I certainly enjoy her company.
And he did. Outside of her beauty and grace, she captivated him with her intelligence, and quick wit. He also liked how she met his gaze evenly, as though she were his equal, and did not seem to fear his high status.
After Thomas served them their breakfast, Sampson said, “Please give us some privacy, Thomas.”
Miss Brent watched him leave, her right brow raised. “Your Grace?”
Busy with his ham and eggs, Sampson waved his fork. “I have a rather unusual request to make of you, Miss Brent.”
“Of course. Whatever you or Lady Henrietta need.”
“I wish to teach you to fire a pistol.”
Miss Brent almost choked on her eggs, and took a sip of water to clear her throat. Patting her lips with her napkin, she said, “That is an unusual request.”
“It is indeed. But after seeing the intruder roaming about, I realized how easy it is to enter this house at night when all are asleep. I certainly cannot ask a man to reside in my sister’s rooms with her. However, with you there, along with your courage, you can easily protect her should you have the proper means to do so.”
Miss Brent remained silent for a time, moving her food around on her plate. Sampson thought she would refuse, as acting as an armed guard for her charge did not come under the duties of a governess.
Under normal circumstances, I would never have considered it.
Yet, these circumstances were hardly normal. He continued to eat, trying to watch what he could see of her face.
“You still wish to keep all this a secret, Your Grace?” she asked, looking up.
“Yes, I do.”
“Then how will you keep teaching me to shoot in secret? The staff will also find it unusual enough to gossip about it.”
“What is it to be a Duke unless I can throw my considerable rank around?” Sampson asked, grinning.
Miss Brent smiled. “Of course. Your Grace will find a way.”
“I certainly will. So you agree?”
“Yes. After what you told me about last night, keeping Lady Henrietta safe will be my top priority. But you, Your Grace? Do you have someone to watch your back?”
“James has appointed himself my bodyguard, Miss Brent, although he spends his nights walking the grounds, keeping watch. I think it was both of us hunting him that ran the man off.”
“Your Grace, he cannot guard the property at night and you during the day. He must sleep or he will be of no use to anyone.”
Sampson frowned. “My thoughts exactly. However, I feel safer knowing he is out there as I sleep. “
“A pity John Kelley is not here,” Miss Brent commented. “He is absolutely loyal to Your Grace and Lady Henrietta, and could easily patrol the grounds at night.”
“But his task is too important to recall him, Miss Brent. By your expression, I suspect you have an idea in mind.”
Miss Brent smiled.
“Your Grace is observant. I do have an idea, as a matter of fact. I do not know his name, but the groom who assisted Lady Henrietta and I on that dreadful day is both highly intelligent and I believe quite loyal. Given what I saw that day, he would be an excellent candidate for a night watchman.”
“You may be right in that, Miss Brent,” Sampson said. “But how can he stand guard at night, as well as fulfill his duties as a groom?”
“Promote him, Your Grace. Create a position for him that requires him to be gone during the day, and he returns at night.”
Sampson thought hard, drumming his fingers on the table. “Interesting notion, Miss Brent. A courier, perhaps? Then he can find a hidden spot to sleep in during the day, then patrols the grounds at night. That could work.”
“I am glad my idea appeals to you.”
“It does indeed. I will present this to both James and Mr. Kirkwood for their opinions.”
“Then with your permission, Your Grace,” she said, “I will attend Lady Henrietta in the solar.”
Before Sampson could frame a reply, Thomas entered the dining room, a silver platter on his hand. On it lay a calling card. He bowed. “Your Grace, you have a visitor,” he announced. “The Lord Eckert has arrived.”
Chapter 18
Lucretia watched the Duke’s face darken with anger. “Very well, Thomas. Show him to the drawing room. I will meet him there.”
“Very good, Your Grace.”
After the butler bowed and departed, Lucretia awaited her dismissal from the Duke’s presence, but it did not come. His Grace watched her, drumming his fingers on the table again. “Are you above a little eavesdropping, Miss Brent?”
“As a child, I was quite good at it.”
“If you hurry, you can get inside the drawing room before Lord Eckert gets there. Hide yourself. I wish to have an audience to what he has to say, and I suspect he will want to speak privately. Go, please. Hurry.”
Lucretia rose from the table, and dipped into a quick curtsey before hurrying out of the dining room. None of the staff she passed seemed curious as to her haste, and she offered up a silent prayer that none of them were in the drawing room at that particular time. It might seem odd to any servants to have her hurry in and duck behind the drapes.
Fortunately, the drawing room stood empty when she entered, but she heard footsteps on the tiled floor approaching.
Where to hide?
Glancing around, she dismissed the drapes as her feet would be seen clearly. However, a small sofa stood away from the wall in front of tall windows, so the drapes would fall cleanly to the floor when closed. Squeezing in behind it, she barely fit her small frame into the small space. Just in time, for the door opened and two men entered.
“His Grace will be here shortly, My Lord,” she heard Thomas say.
“Thank you.”
The door closed again, and she listened to footsteps pace around the carpet. Knowing she would wrinkle her gown, Lucretia stretched out on the floor, and peeped around the sofa. Now she could both see some of the room and hear clearly, yet the end table still concealed her face from the casual eye.
A man of middle years, his hair grey and thinning, his plump body clad in traveling clothes, paced around the room. His expression appeared to be a mixture of pensiveness and angry impatience, as though waiting on a Duke was a waste of his time. He marched in and out of her sight, often glancing at his pocket watch.
His Grace is certainly letting him cool his heels this day. Lucretia stifled her giggle.
When the Earl began to mutter under his breath, the door finally opened. His Grace entered, changed from his previous casual attire into a morning coat, dove grey cravat, ruffled white shirt, carrying a walking stick. Lucretia’s eyes widened. His black hair had been slicked back as though he had just washed, his expression carefully neutral as he gazed at his uninvited guest.
Lord Eckert bowed low. “Breckenridge.”
“This is a bit of a surprise, Eckert,” the Duke said. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
Lucretia noticed immediately that the Duke did not offer the Earl any refreshment, and when the Earl’s brows lowered, she knew the Duke’s lack of social niceties had sorely offended Lord Eckert.
“I am passing through on my way to Yorkshire,” Lord Eckert replied, his tone stiff. “I wished to hear from your own mouth why you would cancel the contract between us.”
The Duke nodded. “I believe you know why. You planned to breed horses in competition with me, did you not?”
“And why was that such a terrible idea?” Lord Eckert demanded, pacing. “With the war in France still going on, there is a great need for excellent cavalry horses. There is more than enough of the market for us both to share.”
“I do not see it that way,” the Duke replied, his tone cold. “I believe you planned to cut me out with your army contacts.”
“That is not true, Breckenridge. I am not so dishonorable as that.”
“Are you dishonorable enough to want your revenge, Eckert?”
“What revenge?” Lord Eckert paced restlessly, apparently forgetting his manners. “What possible harm could I offer you?”
“Did you send someone here to kill one of my horses?”
As he spoke, the Duke closed the distance between them until he towered over the now gaping Earl. “Did you slaughter my best stallion, Eckert? Are you even now plotting to kill me?”
“What? Of course not, are you mad?”
“No, I am not mad,” the Duke said, glaring down at the shorter Earl. “Furious, perhaps, but hardly mad.”
Lord Eckert spluttered. “I did not come here to be accused of crimes, Breckenridge.”
“I have not accused you. Yet. I am asking – did you have anything to do with poisoning my best horse?”
Straightening his coat and his spine, Lord Eckert glared back at the Duke. “I did not. Nor would I cause harm to such valuable animals as your horses. Nor your person, for that matter. I am not a violent man, Breckenridge.”
“So, you are not seeking revenge against me?”
The Earl snorted. “Should I be so foolish as to want that, I can hardly approach you at a later time to perhaps renegotiate for some of your horses, now can I? And in killing your valuable animal, I would only be hurting myself in the long run.”
Lucretia saw the Duke visibly relax, the tension leave his face, and the dark anger vanish from his voice. “I offer my sincere apologies, Eckert. Your name came up in discussions as to who might want to harm me.”
“I hope you can cross my name from your list, Duke,” Lord Eckert replied, also calmer. “For should I succeed in such endeavors, your successor might not be willing to part with any Breckenridge horses. I still have hopes I might persuade you to make a new contract in the future.”
“Might I offer you a glass of port?” the Duke asked.
“No. No, thank you. I merely wished to stop by and get a few answers from you. I’ll take my leave of you now.”
“Thomas will escort you out.”
Lord Eckert bowed, then walked stiffly to the door, opening it then closing it behind him. The Duke glanced around the drawing room. “Miss Brent?”
“Ah, yes, Your Grace. A moment.”
Lucretia stumbled her way to her feet, trying not to step on her gown. She straightened it as the Duke strode toward her, smiling at her discomfiture. “My apologies, Your Grace. I must look a fright.”
Naturally, she noticed the amusement in his eyes as he took her by the hand to bring her out from behind the sofa. She knew her face turned pink by the heat coursing through it, and she wished she knew what he was thinking.
“You make a most extraordinary spy, Miss Brent.”
“I would not know about that. Did you get the answers you hoped for?”
“Both yes and no, Miss Brent.”
The Duke turned away, pondering Lord Eckert’s denials, his hands behind his back. “While I hoped he was our assassin’s employer, I do believe
him when he says he is not. Do you agree?”
“Yes. I do believe he spoke the truth. He has little reason to harm you, and many motives to keep you alive.”
“Thus we still do not know who is behind all this,” he said slowly. “At least he is off our suspect list. You may go now, Miss Brent, and see to my sister.”
Lucretia bent in a curtsey. “Your Grace.”
The Extraordinary Tale of the Rebellious Governess: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 15