A Secret Desire

by Lane, Charlie

  “I’m coming, too,” Tobias said, swinging up onto his horse.

  Grayson nodded and mounted the horse behind Henrietta.

  “You can’t Grayson. Everyone will see. I can ride Lemon. I’m a little shaken, but not incapable.”

  “I know, love.” He kissed each word into the disarranged hair near her ear. “But I need to hold you.”

  “You can’t. They’ll see.” She melted into his chest despite her protestations.

  “Who will see?”

  “Everyone, all of them. They’ll know the gossip is true.”

  Grayson pulled her close, unable to find the words to calm her fears. He wasn’t sure there actually was gossip. Something far more sinister had been set into motion.

  Tobias rode up beside them as the groom mounted Henrietta’s horse and they all wound their way away from the park. “Well, Hen, say hello to Mother and Father for me.”

  She cast her brother a questioning look.

  “When you get home to Manchester, give them my warm greetings. A little warmer for Mother, of course.”

  “I’m not going to Manchester!”

  “Someone’s out to harm you, Hen, and I’ll pack you away for safety like the good china.”

  “I’m not a plate or a soup bowl!”

  “Hen,” Grayson whispered in her ear, twining their fingers together. He liked the idea of sending her to Manchester just fine. An excellent plan. “For a little while only, until we figure out who goaded Stubly and his crew into attacking you. No more than a week, then I’m coming for you.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to be away from her much more than a week, anyway.

  “There are roads to Manchester, you know.”

  “What does that mean?” Tobias barked.

  But Grayson knew. He felt the fear deep in the pit of his belly.

  “I’m as vulnerable to attack there as I am here, you fool.”

  Tobias ground his teeth together. “But if no one knows where you are to begin with, they can’t attack you.”

  “I’m not going to Manchester.”

  “Yes, you are,” Tobias insisted.

  “Please?” Grayson peered down at Henrietta, warmly ensconced on his lap. “I’d like to feel you’re safe while we sort this out.”

  Her eyes flashed steely blue. “I was scared of what Lady Valingford could do to me, to those I love.”

  “I know. It’s all right.”

  “But I’m not scared now.” She twisted in his lap and lifted her face to his, then gifted him a kiss—short, but infinitely sweet and full of promise.

  His heart beat a panicked rhythm inside his chest. She may not be scared, but he was.

  Chapter 26

  Henrietta watched two strapping footmen lift her trunk onto the coach arranged to cart her off to dreary Manchester. She tugged her gloves on, straightening the fingers, and fidgeted with the bow beneath her chin. If she was going into exile, she would do so in style—back straight, head held high, and bonnet ribbons just so. She would descend the stairs and enter the coach as if she were a queen. Once inside, she would pull the blinds so no one could see her melt into the puddle of frustrated tears that seemed to be her permanent state of existence since yesterday afternoon.

  She looked up at the still-dark sky. She knew stars shone behind the clouds of smog hovering over London, but she could not imagine them this morning. She saw only shadows hiding danger.

  “Are you ready, love?” Grandmama asked, puffing up behind her while towing a groggy Grandpapa—still rubbing his eyes yet—behind her.

  “Of course.” Best to sound decided, energized even, as if it had all been her own idea. Exiled to Manchester. Huzzah. Even if it was for her own safety, she couldn’t appreciate the sentiment. In fact, running into hiding made her feel like the coward Grandpapa had called her. He’d said to face down the storm. Had he been right? She’d faced it down yesterday to disastrous results. She turned to Grandpapa. “Is this the right course of action? Yesterday, you said—”

  He jerked out of sleep as quickly as a hand pricked by a needle. “Yesterday morning, we were unaware a mysterious duchess wished you dead. I don’t understand. What other duchess so dislikes you but Valingford’s wife, and yet, when we tracked the duke down at the club last night, he told the truth, I could tell. His wife has spread no gossip. They kept their word.”

  Grandmama hid a yawn behind her hand. “And at the Henrickson ball last evening, there was not a word said about you, Henrietta, dear.”

  Grandpapa scratched his head and stared into the fog. “Someone’s after you, Hen. Circumstances have changed. Gossip is one thing. Murder is another.”

  She hated Manchester. The smog rivaled London, and her parents would forever be trying to marry her off to the nearest rich merchant’s son. But her grandfather had a point. Murder was not a concept to be trifled with. Besides, she was off the marriage mart now, so her parents couldn’t pester her about that. Grayson had not yet proposed, of course, but after their interlude at Hill House, after his refusal to marry Lady Willow, after yesterday in the park, her heart knew what his heart wanted. Her heart wanted it, too. “I might as well get something for all this trouble,” she grumbled. If it is was Grayson, all the better.

  Beside her, Grandmama shivered, pulling her wrap tight. “In you go, love,” she said, scooting Henrietta gently toward the waiting carriage. “We’ll miss you, but you’ll be back soon, I’m positive.”

  Henrietta resisted, digging her heels into the ground. “Aren’t Tobias and Lord Rigsby coming to see me off?”

  Silence.

  “Aren’t they?”

  Grandmama and Grandpapa exchanged a look, a meaningful look.

  “They’re busy this morning,” Grandpapa said.

  A hesitation punctuated his words. An evasion?

  “What do you mean ‘busy’? Tobias is never busy. He a prize-winning layabout.” And Grayson, while he had the potential for busyness, well, he should be with her. She knew he’d want to be, to say goodbye, to reassure her. “What’s going on?”

  Grandmama reached out a hand and rubbed her forearm soothingly. “Only what should, love.”

  Oh, God. It was all crystal clear now. Henrietta knew exactly what kept Tobias and Grayson so busy this morning. She shivered, feeling the hands grabbing her, knowing exactly where the finger-shaped bruises were on her arms. “Remind me how many duels my brother has fought for me,” Henrietta said softly.

  “Three, I believe,” Grandpapa supplied.

  “Soon to be four, I take it.”

  Her grandparents’ silence confirmed her fears.

  “Where is the duel to take place? Wait, no.” She waved her hand, erasing the unnecessary question. Tobias was a creature of habit. Tradition, he called it. He’d fight a duel in only one location. Green Park.

  And Tobias and Grayson were there right now, or on their way, both eager to shoot Stubly through the chest.

  As far as she knew, Tobias had never actually shot anyone before or been shot, for that matter. In the three other duels, the men had known they were guilty of insulting an innocent girl. Or more likely, they’d not wanted to upset the richest young rogue in London. All three had purposefully missed.

  Stubly wouldn’t purposefully miss. He and the mysterious duchess wanted nothing less than Henrietta’s life. She was a target, which meant Tobias and Grayson were targets as well.

  She squeezed her eyes closed and made a decision. “I’ll go to Manchester,” she announced. “Please let me know as soon, as may be, the outcome of the duel.” She pecked Grandpapa’s cheek and embraced Grandmama in a tight hug, gave them both her brightest smile, then settled into the carriage.

  When the carriage rattled along beside Hyde Park several minutes later, she rapped the roof. It rolled to a stop, and she met the coachman’s inquisitive gaze with an apologetic one of her own. “I’m so sorry,” she said, picking up her skirts and jumping to the ground. “There’s something I must do.” And she took off running in the oppos
ite direction, toward Green Park.

  She couldn’t let Tobias and Grayson get shot by the likes of Stubly. She couldn’t let them be hanged, either, for shooting and killing a peer. And as much as she wouldn’t mind seeing Stubly shot, or shooting him herself, it wasn’t worth the lives of the men she loved.

  The events of the first duel with Stubly seemed to be repeating themselves, but a million times worse than before. She wouldn’t get there after the duel this time. She’d have to get there before. She’d have to stop it from happening at all.

  Chapter 27

  Grayson practiced what he would say to Stubly for the thousandth time, determined to get the words right in order to let the man know exactly what he thought of him before raising the pistol to his chest, pointing the deadly weapon at his heart.

  “You are a worm. The bullet I’m about to—”

  Tobias stomped up to the coach, silencing Grayson mid-sentence. Thank God. His words were nothing more than melodramatic drivel, true but silly.

  “The doctor’s here, Gray.”

  Grayson looked out the carriage window into the foggy fields of Green Park.

  Tobias flexed his fingers. “And there’s Stubly and his second.”

  Grayson lumbered out of the coach, looking at the men gathered on the other side of the field. Before he could get both feet on the ground a force slammed into him, propelling him back inside. “What the—”

  Henrietta, stern faced and pale, rose above him.

  “Henrietta?”

  She pushed her hood back and sat opposite him, closing them into the carriage. Her cheeks flushed from exertion and her chest heaved up and down with labored breathing.

  “Did you run here?” he asked.

  She opened her mouth to answer, but Tobias stuck his head in the open carriage door. “Couldn’t stop her.”

  Henrietta’s eyes never left Grayson’s face. “Get in here, Tobias,” she rasped between breaths.

  “Not sure I should.”

  “Now.”

  “Fine, fine,” Tobias grumbled, climbing back up and sitting next to his sister. “Well, here we are again, nice and cozy. Brings back memories.”

  “Shut it, Tobias.” Henrietta pierced Grayson with her fiercest scowl. “I thought you two hated each other now.”

  Tobias waved his arms over his head. “Some things transcend hate.”

  Grayson spoke through gritted teeth. “What are you doing here, Henrietta. You’re supposed to be safely on your way to Manchester.”

  “She’ll ruin the plan,” Tobias whined. “It’ll never work if anyone sees her.”

  “I don’t know why I’m a bit surprised.” Grayson leaned into the squabs in defeat. “She does have a history of showing up at this sort of thing.”

  “True. But Manchester, Gray, Manchester. If she’s not in Manchester, she’ll ruin the plan.” He threw his arms in the air. “She’s already ruined it.”

  “Would you two stop speaking as if I’m not here! And what plan have I ruined?”

  “Did Grandmama tell you?” Tobias queried.

  “Not precisely. I guessed, and her and Grandpapa’s reactions confirmed my guess to be a good one.”

  “I knew Grandmama was a weak link, but dear, dependable Grandpapa?” He sighed. “Well, you’ve dramatic timing, sis. You’ll be able to actually see the duel this time, but at a distance, mind, or you’ll ruin the plan. Come along, Gray, time for you to put a bullet through Stubly’s chest. We demand satisfaction and all that rot.”

  The men rose to leave, but Henrietta’s voice stopped them. “Wait!” She clutched at Grayson’s wrist, her gloved fingers burning his skin. “So, it’s Grayson, then, who is fighting this duel?”

  Tobias nodded, opened the door, and jumped into the grass below, leaving Grayson and Henrietta alone.

  “Don’t do this,” she pleaded.

  “What Stubly did is unforgiveable.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I know. I couldn’t sleep last night because …” She dropped her gaze to the floor.

  Grayson sat back down across from her, nestling her hands between his. “Henrietta, whatever is happening, we’ll figure it out, but in the meantime, I need you to go to Manchester and be safe.”

  “I won’t let you hang for me.”

  He lifted each of her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Henrietta, I love you.” He lurched to his feet and jumped to ground before she could respond. He didn’t want to hang, and hopefully he wouldn’t have to if Tobias’s plan worked.

  Henrietta exited after him, stumbling on uneven ground. Grayson wrapped his hand around her arm to steady her, and her fiery gaze shot to his. She was deuced angry, not the reaction one expected to a declaration of love.

  “Grayson, you have no right to shoot anyone over me,” Henrietta snapped, pulling her arm away. “And you!” She turned to Tobias. “I don’t want you hanged for shooting a member of the peerage, either.”

  Tobias waved at Grayson. “I’m not going to shoot a member of the peerage, sis. He is. Grab the dueling pistols from under the seat, would you, Gray?”

  Grayson turned back to the coach to do as asked. It was time to do what they’d come to do. But when he turned back around, Henrietta’s hands pulled at him, tugging him close and clutching his shoulders.

  “Grayson, don’t do this. There’s no need. I don’t need you to defend my honor. Don’t you see? I have no honor to defend anymore.”

  Her words sent rage howling through his chest and one idea beating through his limbs: find Stubly and shoot him. But he couldn’t walk away from her without a word. Not again. He struggled to control the rage, to push it down. Only through calm control would he be able to say what he needed to say, what she needed to hear him say.

  “You’re wrong, Henrietta Blake. Let me be very clear, so there’s no misunderstanding between us. You do not deserve any mistreatment. Any man who thinks so deserves to be shot.” He placed her away from him, leaned into the carriage, and lifted the seat to reveal the hidden compartment and the box containing dueling pistols beneath.

  “Please, no!” Her hands clutched at him again. She fisted his waistcoat in her fingers, pulling him out of the conveyance. Grayson gripped the box tightly between them. “Give me one good reason Stubly should not be shot.”

  Her grip loosened. “I …”

  He handed the box to Tobias and set his palms to Henrietta’s upper arms, stroking them up and down to warm them from the morning chill. “Exactly. There isn’t a reason.” He walked away.

  She reached out, her hand like lightning, her fingers clasping his waist. “I love you, you fool.”

  He froze in her grasp, turned like a child’s spinning top, and wrapped his arms about her, hauling her against his chest, crashing his lips down to hers.

  “God,” Tobias sneered. “Can’t you kiss my sister another time, Gray? We’re in the middle of a duel. I grant you, it’s an appropriately romantic opportunity, but—”

  “Shut it, Tobias,” Henrietta muttered, tightening her arms around Grayson and molding her lips to Grayson’s once more.

  As much as he reveled in the pleasure of her touch and the bell’s ring of her words—I love you—Grayson set her aside. He had a job to do, whether she wanted it done or not. He stepped away, then paused.

  “Gray, they’re waiting.” Tobias’s words buzzed in his ears, but Henrietta’s blank face stopped his heart. Disappointment weighed down the corners of her rosy, just-kissed lips.

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “It seems … it’s just … as soon as we get close to a future together, it all falls apart.”

  God, what was he supposed to say? Nothing. He kissed her again, this time slow and soft and full of promise for their future. He inhaled, hoping to take her fears away, and he exhaled, wishing to fill her up with his hope. “I’ll not get shot. I’ll not be hanged. Neither will Tobias.”

  “You can’t make such assurances.”

  He couldn’t. He nipped her
bottom lip instead. “Stay in the carriage.”

  “We demand satisfaction!” Tobias huzzah-ed behind them, but there was a grim edge to his voice as he checked the pistols within the box.

  But Grayson could not play at mirth. He was deadly serious when he said, “Exactly.” He looked across the field where the three silhouettes stood. “This way Tobias. Everyone’s waiting.”

  Henrietta swallowed and dropped her tear-brimmed gaze to the ground.

  Grayson couldn’t leave her, not like this. “Listen,” Gray whispered, leaning toward her, “your brother has a plan, a crazy one, but if it works, we’ll end the morning with more information than blood. Do you trust me?”

  Her head shot up. “What do you mean? What is the plan?”

  “Wait in the carriage. You can’t be here.”

  “I’m ruining the plan, so you’ve said. Can’t you tell me the plan?”

  “Henrietta—”

  “Gray!” Tobias bellowed.

  One slim hand wrapped around Grayson’s forearm. “Will we always keep our thoughts from one another?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A year ago, this could all have been avoided if we’d said how we truly felt to one another. And yesterday, you didn’t tell me you were going to fight a duel. And now, you won’t tell me what to expect on that field.”

  She had a point. A good one. But there wasn’t much time. If they waited any longer, they risked being caught. He’d make it quick. “Have you ever read Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing?”

  “Yes. Maybe. I’m not sure. A long time ago, perhaps.”

  “Your brother has definitely read it.” Grayson scratched behind his ear. “I always thought it the most ridiculous thing I’d ever read, especially the part so crucial to Tobias’s plan this morning.”

  “Which part?”

  “The part where they fake the young girl’s death.”

  Henrietta’s eyes widened.