Griffin Stone: Duke Of Decadence (Dangerous Dukes Book 3)

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘Good God!’ Griffin breathed softly.

  Maystone looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. ‘That child is my grandson.’

  Griffin closed his eyes in shame for his earlier rebukes and the anger he had shown towards Maystone since his arrival.

  The man’s grandchild had been abducted, his life threatened.

  As Bea’s had.

  No wonder Maystone had added two and two together—his grandson’s abduction followed by Griffin informing him Bea had suffered the same fate—and come to the conclusion of four!

  Especially so when Griffin had stated in his letter to Maystone that there was a possibility that Jacob Harker, known to have been involved in the plot to assassinate the Prince Regent, and a man who just a few weeks ago had been seen in the area of Stonehurst, might have been involved in Bea’s abduction and imprisonment. Bea’s memory of the man’s name being Jacob had, as far as Griffin was concerned, confirmed that suspicion, which he had also stated in his letter to Maystone. That had obviously caused both Sutherland and Maystone to travel so quickly to Stonehurst.

  And no wonder, if Maystone’s own grandson had also been abducted and kept prisoner.

  Had the boy been kept a prisoner, or was there the possibility that he was already—?

  The idea the boy might already be dead was so unthinkable that Griffin could not even finish the thought.

  Although Maystone’s bloodshot eyes and severe weight loss would seem to imply the older gentleman had also thought of that possibility these past agonising weeks. Far too often.

  Griffin straightened briskly. ‘The kidnappers have made their demands for the boy’s release and safe return?’

  ‘Most certainly,’ Maystone confirmed leadenly. ‘Demands with which I cannot possibly comply.’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘I know what you are going to say, my dear.’ Lord Maystone squeezed Bea’s hand in understanding. ‘But you must understand that my first loyalty has always been, must always be, to the Crown I have served all these years.’

  No, Bea did not understand. A boy’s life was at stake, this gentleman’s own grandson—surely it was worth anything to have him returned safely to his family?

  She gave a firm shake of her head. ‘I admire your loyalty, of course, but there must be some way in which you can maintain that loyalty and still rescue your grandson?’

  ‘We must respect Lord Maystone’s views, Bea.’ Griffin had easily seen and recognised that stubborn set to her mouth as the precursor to her frankly stating her own views on the subject.

  ‘Why must we?’ She stood up abruptly, those flashing blue eyes now including him in her anger. ‘We are talking of a little boy, Griffin,’ she added emotionally. ‘A little boy who has been taken from his parents, from all that he loves. He must be so frightened. So very, very frightened.’ Her hands were so tightly clasped together her knuckles showed white, as she so obviously lived through memories of her own abduction and imprisonment. When she had suffered through that same fear of death, of dying.

  ‘You must remain calm, Bea.’ Griffin quickly crossed the room to clasp her clenched hands within his own.

  ‘I do not see why.’ Tears swam in those pained blue eyes as she looked up at him. ‘Consider how you would feel, Griffin, if the child who had been taken were your own? How you would feel if your own son had been snatched from—?’ She broke off as there came the sound of choking, both of them turning to look at Aubrey Maystone.

  Just in time to see him fall back against the chaise, a hand clutching at his chest, his face as white as snow.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘I did not mean— I had not thought to distress Lord Maystone so much that he— I am so very sorry!’ Bea buried her face in her hands as the falling of her tears made it impossible for her to continue.

  ‘It is not your fault, Bea,’ Griffin consoled huskily as he reached out to cradle her in his arms.

  The two men had managed, between them, to carry Lord Maystone up the stairs to one of the bedchambers, and Bea, Christian, and Griffin were now all seated about the library as they waited for the doctor to come back down the stairs after attending to his patient. Christian reclined in an armchair, Bea and Griffin once again sat together on the chaise.

  ‘It is my fault,’ Bea sobbed. ‘I should not have said— I should have thought.’

  ‘Nothing you said tonight was anything Maystone has not already said to himself many times during this past three weeks, Bea,’ Seaton assured her comfortingly. ‘The man has been beside himself with worry, and I have no doubts that this prolonged strain, and these added days of travelling, are the only reason for his collapse tonight.’

  ‘Why did he not confide in me?’ Griffin gave a pained frown. ‘We could all have assisted in searching— No,’ he guessed heavily. ‘I am sure one of the kidnappers’ demands was for Maystone’s silence on the affair.’

  Indeed, Griffin had thought of Bea’s accusation prior to Maystone’s collapse: How would he have felt if it had been his child who had been taken? Would he have turned England upside down in an effort to find his son? Or would he have done what Maystone had done, and suffered in silence himself rather than put the child’s life in jeopardy?

  If he had known Bea prior to her abduction, would he have been able to stay silent when she was taken, in the hopes it might save her life?

  The answer to that was he had already been doing exactly that for this past week.

  As had the man Michael for whom she had cried out in her sleep? The man whom she must surely now remember?

  Perhaps that was what she had been about to tell Griffin earlier, when Maystone had arrived and interrupted her.

  Christian stood up restlessly. ‘Maystone decided that, as you were leaving to follow up the rumour of Harker’s sighting in Lancashire, and the other Dangerous Dukes were all busy with their new marriages, it must be me that he took into his confidence in this matter.’ He looked grim. ‘It has been difficult enough for me, knowing there is a child’s life at stake, so goodness only knows how Maystone has coped with this prolonged strain.’

  ‘And the boy’s parents?’ Bea lifted her head from Griffin’s chest, her cheeks tear-stained. ‘They must be beside themselves with worry.’

  ‘His mother is prostrate and his father sits at her bedside a great deal.’ Sutherland nodded grimly.

  ‘But what do the kidnappers’ people want?’ Griffin frowned. ‘Something from Maystone, obviously, but what?’

  Sutherland gave a grimace. ‘Initially they had hoped he would use his influence to persuade the Prince Regent and the government into allowing Bonaparte to reside in England.’

  Griffin narrowed his eyes. ‘We are all aware that cannot be allowed to happen.’

  ‘Of course not,’ Christian acknowledged briskly. ‘As we are also aware, there is still the hope amongst Bonaparte’s followers that if he did reside in England they might one day be able to put him back on the French throne.’

  ‘But that is ludicrous! Is it not?’ Bea looked at the two men uncertainly as they exchanged a pointed glance.

  ‘It certainly will be once Bonaparte is safely delivered and incarcerated on—’ Sutherland broke off abruptly, giving an impatient shake of his head. ‘At the moment there are legal moves afoot by Bonaparte’s followers, to ensure that he remains in England. That is something the Crown and government simply cannot allow to happen.’

  ‘Understandably,’ Bea acknowledged softly.

  Christian grimaced. ‘That legal process has been deliberately delayed, for obvious reasons, so that—Suffice it to say that, for the moment, for the matter of a few more days only, it is still possible for Bonapartists in England to foil the arrangements made for his incarceration. After which they are no doubt hoping to see him safely returned to France, at which time a civil
war will once again break out, allowing Bonaparte to prevail through the ensuing chaos.’

  ‘But surely the French people have already spoken, by accepting the return of their King?’ Bea did not pretend to know a great deal about politics, few ladies of her age did, but even she did not believe that the usurper Napoleon could reign without the will of the majority of the people.

  Sutherland gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘A number of French generals have spoken, as has the British government and its allies, but they alone are responsible for the Corsican’s complete defeat, and returning Louis to his throne. Napoleon’s charisma has always been such that no one with any sense believes it will be possible to proclaim the man thoroughly subdued until after he is dead.’

  Bea eyed him curiously. ‘You sound as if you might have met him.’

  ‘I have recently had that dubious honour.’ Christian nodded ruefully. ‘I expected to dislike him intensely, for the mayhem he has created here for so many years, as well as on the Continent, and for the lives lost because of it, many of them my own friends. Instead, I am sorry to say, I found him every bit as intelligent and charismatic as he is reputed to be.’ His jaw tightened. ‘Enough so that I perfectly understand Maystone’s concerns should he give in to the demands of his grandson’s kidnappers, and so allowing the Corsican’s followers opportunity to free him.’

  ‘And these demands are?’ Griffin asked softly.

  Christian’s shoulders slumped. ‘Can you not guess?’

  He nodded. ‘They wish to know the secret details and destination of Bonaparte’s exile, so that they might intercede either before or during his journey.’

  ‘Details Maystone is obviously completely aware of.’ Christian gave an acknowledging inclination of his head. ‘And time, unfortunately, is running out.’

  Bea was unsure as to whether he meant time was running out for the plans of Bonaparte’s followers or for Lord Maystone’s grandson. Either way, determined steps must be taken to find the little boy and return him to his parents and grandfather, before it was indeed too late.

  Just the thought of an eight-year-old boy suffering the same cruel imprisonment that she had was beyond bearing.

  ‘Griffin?’ she appealed.

  Griffin had never felt as impotent as he did with Bea looking up at him so trustingly. As if she believed he was capable of solving this situation when Maystone and Christian had been unable to in the past three weeks.

  But he dearly wanted to deserve that look of complete trust, to be the hero that Bea believed him to be.

  He turned to Christian. ‘Have you and Maystone made any progress at all?’

  Christian grimaced. ‘We have arrested several more people involved in the original assassination plot, but all claim to know nothing of the kidnapping of Maystone’s grandson. Consequently they did not have any information on where the boy is being held. Your information of Lady Bea’s abduction, so similar to that of Maystone’s grandson, is the first real indication we have had that mistakes are being made. Desperation is setting in, and when that happens...’

  ‘The whole begins to unravel,’ Griffin finished with satisfaction.

  ‘But I have told you both that I do not know why I was taken! That I do not know anything.’ Bea hesitated. ‘That is not completely true. I now know where I was when I was abducted!’ Her eyes lit up excitedly. ‘I know who was at the house party that weekend. Surely once I have told you their names it can only be a matter of time— You have both said there is no time!’ She groaned her frustration.

  Griffin frowned in thought. ‘You were abducted from a house party?’

  ‘Yes. Sir Rupert Colville and his wife had invited my aunt and I— I am such a fool!’ Bea pounded the palm of her hand against her forehead. ‘Griffin, I tried to speak with you earlier. I know now who my guardian is—’ She broke off to look up at Seaton. ‘That is the reason you have kept your own counsel since you arrived! Why you have been so protective of me.’

  ‘Yes,’ he confirmed grimly.

  ‘Would someone care to enlighten me?’ Griffin raised an impatient brow.

  Bea turned back and unthinkingly clasped both his hands in hers.

  ‘It is Sir Walter Latham, who is my late mother’s cousin and now my guardian!’

  Griffin gave a start, pulling sharply away from Bea before standing up. ‘Sir Walter?’ he repeated disbelievingly. Bea was the niece Sir Walter had spoken of so affectionately? The niece who had been in London with her aunt but whom Latham now claimed to be staying with friends? ‘But he has no interest in politics or society.’ Griffin frowned. ‘He is a pleasant and jovial enough fellow, but otherwise— You already knew of this connection, Christian, and said nothing?’ he accused, recalling how he had sensed his friend’s air of reservation when they had spoken of Sir Walter earlier.

  The other man gave a frustrated shake of his head. ‘The fact that Lady Bea is his ward does not make Sir Walter guilty of any more than negligence at the moment, in having failed to report her as missing. And there are often other reasons than kidnapping for a young lady’s sudden disappearance,’ he added dryly.

  Griffin turned back to Bea. ‘You said your aunt accompanied you to this house party?’

  ‘Yes,’ she confirmed hesitantly.

  That Lady Francesca Latham, always so cold and mocking, might be involved in intrigue and kidnapping, Griffin certainly could believe.

  Especially so, when only this morning she had told him herself that her niece had decided to stay with friends rather than immediately accompany her aunt to her new home to Lancashire.

  Unless...

  Unless he was allowing his own dislike of Lady Francesca, and her past influential friendship with his wife, to colour his judgement?

  The possible explanation for Lady Francesca’s lie, as to her niece-by-marriage’s whereabouts, might be that she was under the same warning of silence as Lord Maystone if she wished to have her niece safely returned to them.

  Did Sir Walter know of Bea’s abduction too, but was keeping up his jovial front in an effort to prevent that truth from becoming public, also in an effort to protect the life of his niece?

  There were far too many questions yet unanswered for Griffin’s liking!

  And he was prevented from asking any more of them as the doctor came back into the room with his report on Aubrey Maystone’s state of health.

  Apparently the older man had suffered a slight seizure of the heart, but would recover fully, in time. For the moment, it was best that Lord Maystone rest as much as possible.

  ‘I believe I will go and sit with Aubrey for a while,’ Christian quietly excused himself once the doctor had gone.

  Leaving Griffin and Bea alone together.

  Bea was instantly aware of a change in the atmosphere, a charged tension totally unlike the one that had existed when they had all spoken together of the unfortunate situation regarding the Corsican usurper, and how the deposed Emperor seemed to be the connection between the two kidnappings.

  Did Griffin feel that tension too?

  A glance from beneath her lashes revealed his expression to be one of wariness. As if he feared what she might say to him.

  It was ridiculous of him to feel wary of her. Admittedly, she was still hurt at overhearing his rejection of their lovemaking. But she could never be truly angry with Griffin. She cared about him too much for that to ever be true. He could not be blamed for not having that same depth of feeling for her.

  ‘What are—?’

  ‘Are you—?’

  They both began speaking at once, both stopping at the same time.

  Bea looked across at Griffin shyly as he politely waited for her to speak first. ‘What are we to do next, do you think?’

  ‘Regarding the recovery of Maystone’s grandson?’

  ‘Wha
t else?’ she prompted softly.

  What else indeed, Griffin acknowledged, knowing it was ridiculous of him to think that Bea would have any interest in discussing the subject of their closeness last night when she now knew exactly who she was.

  Who Michael was.

  It irked that as yet she had still made no mention of the other man in her life.

  Out of embarrassment and awkwardness, perhaps, because of their own closeness last night?

  Bea need have no qualms in that regard where Griffin was concerned; what had happened between the two of them had been madness. A wonderful sensual madness, but it had been madness nonetheless.

  A beautiful young woman such as Lady Beatrix Stanton could have no serious interest in a man such as him. A man so many years older than her, also a widower, and still suffering the emotional scars of his disastrous marriage.

  He nodded abruptly. ‘I believe we will have to wait until we are able to consult with Maystone on that situation.’

  ‘Of course we must,’ Bea allowed. ‘What were you going to ask me just now?’

  Griffin frowned for a second, and then his brow cleared. ‘Ah. Yes. I wondered if you have a fondness for your aunt Francesca?’ he enquired with deliberate lightness; after all, his own dislike of the woman was personal, and might not be shared by others, least of all her niece-by-marriage.

  Bea gave a husky chuckle. ‘She is a little overwhelming, I concede. But I do not know her terribly well—my mother and Sir Walter were not close,’ she explained at Griffin’s puzzled expression. ‘As such I did not have opportunity to meet either Sir Walter or Lady Francesca often until after my parents—until after they had both died,’ she added quietly.

  ‘I really am so sorry for your loss, Bea.’ Griffin took a step towards her and then stopped himself; there was absolutely no point in causing further awkwardness between the two of them by taking her in his arms—most especially when he could not guarantee the outcome.