by Rose Pearson
A sharp rap on the door had her jumping and, as she turned her head, she saw the Duke step inside with a maid just behind him, carrying a gown in her arms.
“You are to eat, wash, and change,” he said firmly, his eyes not so much as landing on her, as though she were so far below him he could not even allow himself to look at her directly. “Your groom will be here in a few hours.”
Her heart stopped in her chest.
“Obviously, you cannot wear that,” he continued, gesturing at her governess’ gown with disdain. “The maid has all you require. I expect you to be ready within the hour.”
Elsbeth stared at him, her mind slowly beginning to close in on itself as the truth hit her with such force that it took her breath away.
Her groom was coming here. The Duke’s stepson, the heir apparent, was to arrive at the inn so that they might marry.
“I will not,” she whispered, as the Duke made his way to the door. “I will not marry him.”
“You will,” the duke replied, in a tired voice as though growing irritated with her constant refusal. “I have the Special License and the local vicar has made himself available to me whenever I request his presence. Whether or not the words leave your mouth, this particular vicar will ensure that, by law, you are married to my stepson.”
Elsbeth shook her head. “You cannot have me wed without my consent.”
The Duke sneered at her, his eyes glinting from underneath his bushy eyebrows. “My dear lady, when will you learn that I can do whatever I wish?” He shook his head disparagingly. “After all, I am a Duke and, as such, can do whatever it is I desire with very little consequence. And so, Miss Blakely, it is quite ridiculous of you to even attempt to prevent this from occurring, for I can assure you that it will come to naught. You will be married, and you will return to my stepson’s home as his wife. The rest, of course, is up to him. I pray that the heir will soon be in your belly and that my family line, tainted as though it may be by your presence, will continue.”
Elsbeth lifted her chin, despite the quivering of her lips, determined not to quail under the steady yet malicious gaze of the Duke. “I will do no such thing. I am to wed Lord Radford. He will come for me.”
The Duke’s harsh laughter echoed around the room. “Then let us hope that thought continues to comfort you, Miss Blakely, for that is all it will do, I assure you.” He shot a dark look towards the maid. “Within the hour, mind.”
The maid, clearly terrified, bobbed a curtsy and dropped her eyes to the floor, not looking at either Elsbeth or the Duke. The door slammed shut behind him as the whole room seemed to shake from the force of it, leaving Elsbeth feeling weaker than ever before.
Crumpling into her chair, Elsbeth gave into the tears that had been threatening for so long, her agony pouring out of her with such force that it was all she could do to remain seated, wanting to slide to the floor and curl into a ball of hopelessness and pain.
“I’m sorry, miss, but I need to have you washed,” the maid whispered, coming over to her and putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “There’s fresh water in the jug.”
Elsbeth could do nothing but sob, her heart breaking over and over as she realized the hopelessness of the situation. If her groom was to come here and if the vicar was as willing to bend for the Duke, then within an hour or so, she would be wed to a man she did not know and forced to bear his child. Her life with Lord Radford would be over, brought to a swift end by the Duke’s determination.
“Please,” the maid begged, now tugging gently at Elsbeth’s arm. “I dare not cross him.”
That was the worst of it, the fear that the Duke placed in so many hearts. Even now, Elsbeth felt her own heart begin to weaken and quail, as though it were tired of being strong for such a long time.
“It is of no use,” she whispered to herself, refusing to move an inch. “He will have his way regardless.”
The maid was young, with large frightened eyes that stared back at her as Elsbeth lifted her head. She was clearly upset by Elsbeth’s tears, but fear of the Duke was forcing her to act anyway.
“I must dress you,” the maid said again, growing almost frantic as Elsbeth refused to move. “I don’t know what will become of me if I do not.”
Elsbeth shook her head. “No. I will not do this.”
“Please,” the maid cried, her own eyes now filling with tears. “The Duke, he.....”
Looking up at her again, Elsbeth wiped her eyes and tried to focus on the girl in front of her.
“He’s going to do you harm if you don’t get me to do as he said,” she finished, dully, aware that the Duke was doing all he could to force her to act. “Is that right?”
The maid nodded wordlessly, her eyes now swimming with tears. “Please, miss. It’s not that I think he’s doing the right thing, but I can’t let him hurt my sister.”
“Your sister?”
The maid nodded. “She’s all I’ve got, my sister. She’s a maid here too, although it’s not the best place to work. I mean, the innkeeper keeps looking at us both with this gleam in his eye and it’s all I can do to avoid him.” She shuddered slightly, her cheeks pale. “We need to work, so it’s not as though we can just go somewhere else, but the innkeeper’s not a good man. He does what the Duke wants for enough coin – and so he put my sister in the Duke’s room.” She stifled a sob as a single tear dripped onto her cheek. “I have to get you changed and ready, else the Duke will....do something to her.”
Her gut twisted with revulsion.
“Then there’s nothing I can do but obey,” Elsbeth muttered, finding the strength to push herself up out of the chair. “Here. I won’t stop you.” She turned around, the maid already beginning to unbutton her dress with such frantic fingers that Elsbeth could almost feel her fear.
“Is he forcing you to marry, then?” the maid asked, quietly. “I’m sorry to ask but –”
“Yes, he is,” Elsbeth replied, as the gown fell to the floor. “Even though I am engaged to another.”
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a thought hit her, hard. Turning around, she caught the maid’s hand, her eyes widening.
“But it is to a good man, a kind man. A viscount.”
The maid stared back at her, eyes widening.
“He would give you and your sister a position for life, I know he would,” Elsbeth continued, almost frantic with hope. “If you were to help me, that is.”
Blinking furiously, the maid began to shake her head, only for Elsbeth to catch her hand again.
“I do not mean to put you or your sister in danger,” Elsbeth continued, quickly. “Do as the Duke asks and then, when I am ready, I will tell him that I need some time to pray. After all, getting married almost requires such a thing.”
“And what should I do then?” the maid asked warily, her brows now furrowing.
“Take your sister and find a ladder,” Elsbeth continued quickly. “There is one somewhere, surely?”
The maid nodded, her eyes widening with understanding.
“Put it to my window. I shall climb out and we will run away together.”
“Run away?” the maid repeated, sounding both shocked and terrified. “I can’t – I mean, what if the Duke....?”
“He will not find us,” Elsbeth replied, with more certainty than she felt. “Besides, my betrothed, Viscount Radford, will protect you both. I promise you that. You will have employment for the rest of your life in our home, I can assure you of that.”
Something flickered in the maid’s eyes and Elsbeth felt her heart burst with hope.
“Please,” she finished softly. “You are my only chance. You know what the Duke is forcing me to do. I cannot escape him without you.”
After a long moment, the maid nodded slowly, her fear palpable.
“Very well,” she said, even though her whole body was beginning to shake. “I – I’ll try my best.”
It was all Elsbeth could hope for, her eyes closing tightly as she fought off another wave of tears.
“Thank you,” she whispered, putting one hand on the maid’s shoulder as she tried to steady her composure. “What’s your name?”
“Betty,” the maid said, reaching for Elsbeth’s gown. “And my sister’s Mary.”
“Then thank you, Betty,” Elsbeth replied, praying silently that this would work. “Thank you for your courage.”
Half an hour later and the Duke was back at her door. Elsbeth stood tall as the maid edged towards the door, her eyes fixed on Elsbeth.
“You can have your stinking sister back,” the Duke snarled, as Betty made her way past him. “Not that I would have touched her, filthy creature.” His lip curled as Betty went past him, her whimper of fear making its way back towards Elsbeth’s ears.
“Your groom will be at your door very soon,” the Duke continued, the moment Betty left them. “I am glad to see that you decided to do as you are told, for once.”
It was on the tip of Elsbeth’s tongue to say that she had not exactly had a choice in the matter, but she chose not to say a word, bowing her head instead. It was best not to anger him, to let him believe that perhaps, finally, she had learned her place.
“I will stay with you until he arrives.”
Her stomach tightened.
“I must spend some time in prayer, your grace, before my husband to be arrives.” She looked up at him, seeing the slight frown on his face and praying that he would leave her alone. “After all, this is quite a serious occasion, is it not?”
“It is,” he murmured, still frowning.
“A few minutes is all I require,” she continued, now dropping her gaze to the floor again. “It is not too much to ask, is it?”
There was a long, pronounced silence. Elsbeth held her breath, waiting for his judgement to fall. If he remained with her, then there was nothing she could do to escape, for her chance to climb out of the window and onto what she hoped to be the waiting ladder, would be gone.
“A few minutes,” he said eventually, walking towards the door. “Your groom has not yet arrived and so I suppose I may grant you this.” He chuckled softly. “After all, you will need all the prayer you can get if I know my stepson.”
Elsbeth let out her breath slowly, her skin crawling as she tried not to dwell on what the Duke meant. She waited until the door closed and the key turned in the lock before hurrying to the window, throwing open the shutters and looking out.
There was no-one there. No ladder. Nothing. The light of the moon shone on the wall beneath her, making it plain just how far she would have to fall if she tried to jump.
Something hissed.
Jerking in surprise, Elsbeth looked down to the ground, only to see a few moving shadows, not quite sure what it was or where it had come from. A clattering sound made her wince, her stomach tightening as she worried that the Duke would hear it.
And then, to her relief, a ladder was placed against the wall just below the window, another hiss coming from the ground below.
Swallowing hard, Elsbeth pulled her head back into the window and turned around, bundling up her gown in one hand. How she managed to maneuver herself out of the window, she was not quite sure, although there was a sound of tearing as she managed to put one foot on the first rung of the ladder.
Sweat trickled down her back as she held onto the windowsill, barely aware of the scrapes burning on her skin. Drawing in a deep breath, Elsbeth began to climb carefully down the ladder, her hands tight on the wooden rungs as she made her way down.
And then, there came a wild shout. The sound of a door slamming open made her stop in fear, only for the voices of the two maids to force her into action. She clambered down the last few steps, her gown billowing around her in the wind as hands caught her around the waist.
“Hurry!” Betty whispered, as the other maid – the one Elsbeth presumed to be Mary – let the ladder fall to the ground. “This way.”
Elsbeth did not have time to think, hurried away by the two maids as they made their way along the side of the inn. The shouts of the Duke were still ringing in her ears as she ran with Betty and Mary, terrified that a strong hand was about to grasp at her shoulder.
“Here,” Mary whispered, shoving Elsbeth hard into a small, dark building. “They might not find us in here.”
Elsbeth looked all about her but saw nothing but darkness, her breathing coming quick and fast.
“Where are we?” she whispered, as Betty led her around the back of something. “I don’t understand.”
Betty patted her hand, even though Elsbeth could feel her trembling. “This is where they keep the firewood,” she whispered, coming to a stop and pulling Elsbeth down to the floor. “The pile’s huge. Let’s hope they won’t look here.”
Swallowing her fear, Elsbeth tried to smile into the darkness. “Thank you for your courage, Betty. And you too, Mary.”
A small sniff came from Mary’s direction. “Betty says we got a job for life if we help you.”
“Yes, of course you do,” Elsbeth replied, firmly. “With a good man, too. Although, we just have to make sure not to be found first.” She looked all about her but saw nothing but inky shadows. “Is there another way out of here?”
There was silence for a moment.
“There’s a gap just behind me” Betty replied, eventually, as the shouts of the Duke and the sound of whinnying horses came ever closer. “It’s small but you can fit through – but it doesn’t lead anywhere. Just back out into the open.”
Elsbeth swallowed hard, drawing in a long breath in an attempt to reassure herself. “Good. Then let’s just pray that no-one comes to search for us here.”
“What do we do when the morning comes?”
Elsbeth couldn’t answer, her throat suddenly aching with a deep and terrible fear. She had no idea what to do if the Duke found her, aware that with first light would bring a greater chance of being discovered.
She tried to speak, but her lips refused to move, her mouth filled with sand. Her mind scrambled to think of an answer, but all she could do was shake her head.
“I don’t know,” she managed to whisper, eventually. “All I know is that, somehow, I’ve got to get home.”
For a long time, there was nothing but fear prickling up and down Elsbeth’s spine. She could hear the Duke roaring in anger, the sound of a man’s voice that she didn’t know, which Betty whispered to her was the innkeeper yelling at his servants to go in search of them.
“There ain’t a lot of them,” Mary whispered, pressing Elsbeth’s hand as they sat together. “Those who work for the innkeeper, I mean. Not loyal, neither.”
Elsbeth nodded in the darkness, hoping that this meant the men wouldn’t be particularly willing to find them. Tears pricked at her eyes as she thought about Lord Radford, her arms wrapped around her knees in an attempt to keep out the chill that was settling into her bones.
And then, out of nowhere, she heard a familiar shout.
Her head shot up, her eyes widening in the darkness.
“It’s him!” she breathed, her hands now scrabbling for Mary and Betty. “It’s Radford!”
In her haste, she made to get up, only for Mary and Betty to grab at her and pull her back down.
“No,” Betty hissed, fervently. “You can’t. The Duke is still there.”
Everything in Elsbeth wanted to go to the Radford, even though the Duke and his stepson were still there. Her body quivered with tension as she clung to Betty’s arm, her ears straining to hear Radford’s voice.
“Where is she?” she heard him yell, his voice shattering the darkness around her. “I know you brought her here.”
The Duke exclaimed something that Elsbeth couldn’t hear, whilst the mocking laughter of the stepson floated around them. Elsbeth felt herself grow hot all over, anger and fury filling her.
The Duke had always treated her as though she were something to be shifted about at his will. He had been the one to put her in the Smithfield House for Girls, just in case she should prove useful at a
later time, and now, since she was the only one of his bloodline left, she was meant to simply marry a man and bear his child because the Duke willed it.
It was a feeling she’d rebelled against her whole life. The feeling of being told what to do, of being ordered about as though she had no choice of her own. When would the Duke see that she was not the kind of woman to be so mistreated?
Before she knew what she was doing, Elsbeth shook off Betty and Mary’s hands and rose to her feet, walking out of the darkness and back towards the inn. She did not feel as though she were putting herself in danger, knowing that Radford was there waiting for her. He would protect her. Once she was by his side, she would have nothing to fear.
Slowly making her way back towards the inn, Elsbeth saw three figures standing in the moonlight. Two had their back to her, and, in the distance, she saw another strong figure. A figure she knew to be Lord Radford.
Drawing her skirts up in one hand and taking a deep breath, Elsbeth ran as hard as she could, taking a wide berth past the Duke and his stepson, before shouting Radford’s name. In a moment, she was in his arms again, held tightly against him as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Elsbeth,” he gasped, his breathing ragged with surprise. “Elsbeth!”
“Unhand her at once!”
Elsbeth held onto Radford tightly, her arms encircling his neck.
“You found me,” she whispered, ignoring the Duke completely. “I couldn’t let you look for me in vain. I had to be by your side.” Loosening her grip a little, she looked into his eyes, seeing them alight with relief in the moonlight. “I knew you’d keep me safe.”
“Always.”
Chapter Nineteen
Andrew could barely believe it. Elsbeth was finally back in his arms, having appeared out of nowhere. He had taken the road indicated to him by one of his men and had, after a few wrong turns, finally managed to make his way to the Winter Arms. He had jumped down from his horse just as the Duke had come storming out of the inn, a man he did not recognize by his side.