The Duke’s Obsession Bundle

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The Duke’s Obsession Bundle Page 29

by Grace Burrowes


  When the earl and his brothers were safely away from the mews, he wasted no time informing them of recent developments.

  “So as long as this Whit is content to bilk his employers and draw out his surveillance contract,” the earl concluded, “we have some time, but it becomes more imperative than ever that Anna not be left alone.”

  “Where is she now?” Dev asked, frowning at his horse’s neck.

  “At market, with a footman on each arm, both ordered not to let her out of their sight.”

  “Let’s ride home by way of the market,” Dev suggested. “I have an odd feeling.”

  Val and the earl exchanged an ominous look. Whether it was Dev’s Irish granny, his own instincts, or mere superstition, when Dev got a hunch, it was folly to ignore it.

  They trotted through the streets, the morning crowds thinned by the heat. The market was bustling, however, with all manner of produce and household sundries for sale as women, children, and the occasional man strolled from vendor to vendor.

  “Split up,” the earl directed, handing his reins to a boy and flipping the child a coin. “Walk him.”

  Val and Dev moved off through the crowd, even as the back of the earl’s neck began to prickle. What if Fairly’s guardian urchin was wrong, and Whit had gotten tired of watching in the heat? What if Anna had chosen today to slip out of his life? What if the fat man was a procurer, and Anna was already on her way to some foul crib on the Continent?

  A disturbance in the crowd to his left had the earl pushing his way through the throng. In the center of a circle of gawking onlookers, Anna stood, her wrist in the grasp of a large, seriously overweight man. Westhaven took one step back then set his fingers to his lips to emit a shrill whistle.

  “Come quietly, Anna,” the fat man crooned. “I’ll be good to you, and you won’t have to live like a menial anymore. Now don’t make me summon the beadle, my girl.”

  Anna merely stood there, resistance in every line of her posture.

  “We can collect little Morgan,” the man went on, happy with his plans, “and be back to York in a week’s time. You’ll enjoy seeing your granny again, won’t you?”

  The mention of Morgan’s name brought a martial light into Anna’s eye, and she looked up, fire in her gaze, until she saw Westhaven. She sent him a heartrending look, one it took him an instant to decipher: Protect my sister.

  “Morgan isn’t with me,” Anna said, her tone resolute. “You get me or nothing, Stull. And I’ll come quietly if we leave this minute for York, otherwise…”

  “Otherwise,” Stull sneered, jerking her arm, “nothing. You are well and truly caught, Anna James, and we’ll find your sister, too. Otherwise, indeed.”

  The earl stepped out of the crowd and twisted the fat man’s hand off Anna’s wrist. “Otherwise, bugger off, sir.”

  Stull rubbed his wrist, eyeing the earl truculently. “I don’t know what she’s told you, good fellow”—he tried for an avuncular tone—“or what she’s promised you, but I will thank you to take your hands off my wife and leave us to return peaceably to our home in Yorkshire.”

  The earl snorted and wrapped an arm around Anna’s shoulders. “You are no more her husband than I am the King. You have accosted a woman for no reason and treated her abominably. This woman is in my employ and under my protection. You will leave her in peace.”

  “Leave her in peace?!” Stull screeched. “Leave her in peace when I’ve traveled the length and breadth of this country seeking just to bring her home? And she’s dragged her poor, addled sister with her, from one sorry scheme to another, when I have a betrothal contract signed and duly witnessed. It’s no wonder I don’t have her sued for breach of promise, b’gad.”

  The earl let him bellow on until Dev and Val were in position on either side of the ranting Stull, a constable frowning at Val’s elbow.

  “Sir,” the earl cut in, his voice cold enough to freeze the ears off of anybody with any sense. “You have produced no such contract, and you are not family to the lady. I do not deal with intermediaries, and I do not deal with arsonists.” He nodded to Dev and Val, each of whom seized Stull by one beefy arm. “I want this man arrested for arson, Constable, and held without bond. The lady might also want to bring charges for assault, but we can sort that out when you have him in custody.”

  “Along with ye, then,” the constable ordered Stull. “His lordship’s word carries weight with me, and that puts you under arrest, sir. Come peaceable, and we won’t have to apply the King’s justice to your fat backside.”

  The crowd laughed as Dev and Val obligingly escorted their charge in the constable’s wake. The earl was left with Anna in his arms and more questions than ever.

  “Come.” He led Anna to his horse and tossed her up, then climbed up behind her. He was on Dev’s big young gelding, and the horse stood like a statue until Westhaven gave the command to walk on. Anna was silent and the earl himself in no mood to hold a difficult discussion on the back of a horse. He kept an arm around her waist while she leaned quietly against his chest until they were in the mews.

  When the grooms led the horse away, Westhaven tugged Anna by the wrist across the alley and through the back gardens, pausing only when Morgan came into sight, a basket over her arm.

  “Morgan!” Anna dropped the earl’s hand and rushed to wrap her arms around her sister. “Oh, thank God you’re safe.”

  Morgan shot a quizzical look over Anna’s shoulder at the earl.

  “We ran into Stull in the market,” the earl explained, watching the sisters hugging each other. “He was of a mind to take his betrothed north without further ado. I was not of a mind to allow it.”

  “Thank God,” Morgan said quietly but clearly. Anna stepped back and blinked.

  “Morgan?” She eyed her sister closely. “Did you just say ‘thank God?’”

  “I did.” Morgan met her sister’s gaze. “I did.”

  “You can hear and speak,” the earl observed, puzzled. “How long have you feigned deafness?”

  “When you went out to Willow Bend, Anna.” Morgan’s eyes pleaded for understanding. “Lord Val took me to see Lord Fairly. He’s a physician—a real physician, and he was able to help. I’ve not wanted to tell you, for fear it wouldn’t last, but it’s been days, and oh, the things I’ve heard… the wonderful, beautiful things I’ve heard.”

  “I am so happy for you.” Anna pulled her close again. “So damned happy for you, Morgan. Talk to me, please, talk to me until my ears fall off.”

  “I love you,” Morgan said. “I’ve wanted to say that—just that—for years. I love you, and you are the best sister a deaf girl ever had.”

  “I love you, too,” Anna said, tears threatening, “and this is the best gift a deaf girl’s sister ever had.”

  “Well, come along you two.” The earl put a sister under each arm. “As pleasing as this development is, there is still a great deal of trouble brewing.” As both sisters were in tears, it clearly fell to him to exercise some rational process, otherwise the lump in his own throat might have to be acknowledged.

  He ushered them into his study, poured lemonade all around, and considered the situation as Anna and Morgan beamed at each other like idiots.

  “Don’t forget your sugar,” Anna said, turning her smile on him. “Oh, Westhaven, my sister can hear! This makes it all worthwhile, you know? If Morgan and I hadn’t fled York, she might never have seen this physician. And if you can hear and speak…”

  “I cannot be so easily declared incompetent,” Morgan finished, grinning.

  “Unless…” Anna’s smile dimmed, and she glanced hesitantly at the earl. “Unless Stull and Helmsley convince the authorities you were feigning your disability, and that would be truly peculiar.”

  The earl frowned mightily. “Rather than speculate on that matter, what can you tell me about this betrothal contract Stull ranted about. Is it real?”

  “It is,” Anna said, holding his gaze, her smile fading to a grimace. “It is very
real. There are two contracts, in fact. One obligates me to marry him in exchange for sums he will pay to my brother; the other obligates Morgan to marry him in the event I do not, for the same consideration.”

  “So your brother has sold you to that hog.” It made sense enough. “And you were unwilling to go join him in his wallow.”

  “Morgan was to have come with me,” Anna added, “or I with her. Whichever sister he married, he agreed to provide a home for the other sister, as well. Even if I married him, I could not have kept Morgan safe from him.”

  “He is depraved, then?”

  “I would not have rejected a suitor out of hand,” Anna said, her chin coming up, “just for an unfortunate fondness for his victuals. Stull makes the beasts appear honorable, though.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “Grandmother hired on a twelve-year-old scullery maid,” Anna said wearily. “The girl was nigh torn asunder trying to bear Stull’s bastard. The baby did not live, but the mother did—barely. She was not”—Anna glanced at Morgan—“mature for her years, and she had no family. Stull preyed on her then tossed her aside.”

  “Who is he? He comports himself like a man of consequence, at least in his own mind.”

  “Hedley Arbuthnot, eighth Baron Stull,” Anna said. “My betrothed.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that.” The earl looked at her, frowning. “I want to see these contracts, as in the first place, I don’t think a conditional betrothal is enforceable, and in the second, there is the question of duress.” And a host of other legal questions, such as whether Helmsley had executed the contracts on behalf of his sisters, and if Morgan was a minor when he did. Or did he sign on behalf of Anna, who was not a minor, and thus bind himself rather than her?

  And where in the tangle of questions did the matter of guardianship of the ladies’ funds come into it?

  The earl looked at Morgan. “You are going to let my brother escort you to the ducal mansion. Stull does not know where you are and does not know you have regained your ability to speak and hear. It is to our advantage to keep it that way.”

  “You”—the earl turned an implacable glare on Anna—“are going to go unpack your damned valise and meet me back here, and no running off. Your word, or I will alert the entire staff to your plans, and you will be watched from here to Jericho unless I am with you.”

  “You have my word,” she said quietly, rising to go, but turning at the last to give Morgan one more hug.

  She left a ringing silence behind her, in which the earl helped himself to the whiskey decanter, pouring a hefty tot into his lemonade.

  “So what hasn’t she told me?” The earl turned and met Morgan’s gaze.

  “I don’t know what she has told you.”

  “Precious bloody little.” The earl took a swallow of his cocktail. “That she was keeping confidences and could not allow me to assist her. Christ.”

  “She was. My grandmother made us both promise our situation would not become known outside the three of us. Anna and I have both kept our word in that regard, until now.”

  The earl ran a hand through his hair. “How could this come about? That Anna could be obligated to marry a loathsome excuse for a bore—or boar?”

  “It was cleverly done.” Morgan sighed and stood, crossing her arms as she regarded the back gardens through the French doors. “Helmsley sent Grandmother and me off to visit a friend of hers, then took Anna aside and told her if she didn’t sign the damned contract, he’d have me declared incompetent. In a similar fashion, he told me if I didn’t sign the contract, then he’d put a pillow over Grandmother’s face. Anna doesn’t know about that part, and I don’t think he’d do it…”

  “But he could. What a rotter, this brother of yours. And lousy at cards, I take it?”

  “Very. We were in hock up to our eyeballs two years ago.”

  “So he probably told your grandmother some Banbury tale, as well,” the earl said, staring at his drink. “What do you think would make Anna happy now?”

  “To be home,” Morgan said. “To know Grandmother is safe, to see Grandpapa’s gardens again, to know I am safe. To stop running and looking over her shoulder and pretending to be something we’re not.”

  “And you, Morgan?” The earl shifted to stand beside her. “What do you want?”

  “I want Anna to be happy,” Morgan said, swallowing and blinking. “She was so… So pretty and happy and loving when Grandpapa was alive. And the past two years, she’s been reduced to drudgery just so I would be safe. She deserves to be happy, to be free and safe and…” She was crying, unable to get out the rest of whatever she wanted to say. The earl put down his drink, fished in his pocket for his handkerchief, and pulled Morgan into his arms.

  “She deserves all that,” he agreed, patting her shoulder. “She’ll have it, too, Morgan. I promise you she’ll have what she wants.”

  When Val and Dev joined him in the library less than an hour later, Anna was still unpacking while Morgan was busy packing. The earl explained what he knew of the situation, pleased to hear the magistrate had agreed to delay Stull’s bond hearing for another two days.

  “That gives us time to get Morgan to Their Graces,” the earl said, glancing at Val. “Unless you object?”

  “It wouldn’t be my place to object,” Val said, his lips pursed, “but I happen to concur. Morgan can use some pampering, and Her Grace feels miserable for having set Hazlit on their trail. This will allow expiation of Her Grace’s sins, and distract His Grace, as well.”

  “Creates a bit of a problem for you,” Dev pointed out.

  “How so?” Val frowned.

  “How are you going to continue to convince our sire you are a mincing fop, when every time Morgan walks by, you practically trip over your tongue?”

  “My tongue, Dev, not my cock. If you could comprehend the courage it takes to be deaf and mute in a society that thinks it is neither, you would be tripping at the sight of her, as well.”

  Dev spared a look at the earl, who kept his expression carefully neutral.

  “You will both escort Morgan to Their Graces later this afternoon,” Westhaven said. “For now, I’d like you to remain here, keeping an eye on Anna.”

  “You don’t trust her?” Dev asked, censorship in his tone.

  “She gave her word not to run, but I am not convinced Stull was the only threat to her. Her own brother got her involved in this scheme with Stull, and he’s the one who benefits should Stull get his hands on Anna. Where is Helmsley, and what is his part in this?”

  “Good question,” Dev allowed. “Go call on Their Graces, then, and leave the ladies in our capable hands.”

  Val nodded. “His Grace will be flattered into a full recovery to think you’d entrust a damsel in distress to his household.”

  The earl nodded, knowing it was a good point. Still, he was sending Morgan to the duke and duchess because their home was safe, a near fortress, with servants who knew better than to allow strangers near the property or the family members. And it was nearby, which made getting Morgan there simple. Then, too, Anna saw the wisdom of it, making it one less issue he had to argue and bully her through.

  He found Anna in her sitting room, sipping tea, the evil valise nowhere in sight.

  “I’m off to Moreland House,” the earl informed her, “to ask Their Graces to provide Morgan sanctuary. I will ask on your behalf, as well, if it’s what you want.”

  “Do you want me to go with her?” Anna asked, her gaze searching his.

  “I do not,” he said. “It’s one thing to ask my father and mother to keep Morgan safe, when Stull isn’t even sure she’s in London. It’s another to ask them to keep you safe, when I am on hand to do so and have already engaged the enemy, so to speak.”

  “Stull isn’t your enemy,” Anna said, dropping her gaze. “If it hadn’t been him, my brother would have found somebody else.”

  “I am not so convinced of that, Anna.” The earl lowered himself into a rocking
chair. “The society in York is provincial compared to what we have here in London. My guess is that there were likely few willing to collude with your brother in defrauding your grandfather’s estate, shackling you and Morgan to men you found repugnant and impoverishing your sickly grandmother into the bargain.”

  “That is blunt speech,” she said at length.

  “I am angry, Anna.” The earl rose again. “I fear diplomacy is beyond me.”

  “Are you angry with me?”

  “Oh, I want to be,” he assured her, his gaze raking her up and down. “I want to be furious, to turn you over my knee and paddle you until my hand hurts, to shake you and rant and treat the household to a tantrum worthy of His Grace.”

  “I am sorry.” Anna’s gaze dropped to the carpet.

  “I am not angry with you,” the earl said gravely, “but your brother and his crony will have much to answer for.”

  “You are disappointed in me.”

  “I am concerned for you,” the earl said tiredly. “So concerned I am willing to seek the aid of His Grace, and to pull every string and call in every favor the old man can spare me. Just one thing, Anna?”

  She met his gaze, looking as though she was prepared to hear the worst: Pack your things, get out of my sight, give me back those glowing characters.

  “Be here when I get back,” the earl said with deadly calm. “And expect to have a long talk with me when this is sorted out.”

  She nodded.

  He waited to see if she had anything else to add, any arguments, conditions, or demurrals, but for once, his Anna apparently had the sense not to fight him. He turned on his heel and left before she could second guess herself.

  Sixteen

  “I have come to seek assistance,” Westhaven said, meeting his father’s gaze squarely. The duke was enjoying his early afternoon tea on the back terrace of the mansion, and looking to his son like a man in a great good health.

 

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