The Artisan and the Duke

by Abigail Agar

  “No. I know he is lying, but I just can’t figure out why. Even if they get Gregory out of the way, there is a good chance the title will just revert to me.”

  “But they also tried to harm you. Maybe they weren’t planning on you being around,” Jules said. “Do you really think that your cousin would be so ruthless?”

  Fredrick sighed, “Family is everything to Boris. It was something his mother always made a point of. When we would no longer throw favour on Uncle Lawrence, Boris’ mother took pity on the man. A strong duty to the family does not lend itself easily to sabotage, kidnapping, and such.”

  “Maybe,” Jules said softly.

  ***

  The night was well-worn by the time Jules and Fredrick made it to Glenwood Estate. Despite their lack of faith in the man, Fredrick and Jules had little choice but to follow his instructions. They turned down the road that led by the main house and away into the forest.

  “He could very well be sending us into a trap of some kind,” Jules whispered as they made their way slowly along the trail.

  Fredrick acknowledged this with a nod of his head. “He could,” he said quietly. “But thus far we have seen no signs of Gregory. If he is not at this house, then we will try Glenwood Hall.”

  They rode until the trail became only passable for one horse at a time and then they dismounted altogether. The house was on a hill with a good overview of the surrounding area, even at night. The only advantage they had was that it was particularly dark as clouds had rolled in earlier in the evening.

  They could see a light flickering inside, and Fredrick suggested, “Perhaps we can sneak up through the forest instead of taking the road.”

  “What about the horses?” Jules asked.

  Fredrick gave a sheepish look and said, “We will have to tie them to branches. They should be fine.”

  “Okay,” Jules agreed quietly.

  Soon enough they trudged off into the forest, and Jules gave her horse a slight wave as it snorted. The light still flickered in one of the windows, and there really was no way to hide too much. Fredrick and Jules opted to walk around the perimeter near the forest.

  By the time they made it to the back door, Fredrick was wincing with the effort. “Are you quite okay?” Jules asked with concern.

  “Come to find out that losing one’s leg is actually a pretty big inconvenience,” Fredrick said with humour as he rubbed his injured leg. “I will be fine. Just carry on so we can get out of here.”

  Fredrick eased up to the door as best he could, careful not to put his cane down too hard on the wooden flooring of the porch. He tried the door, and it came open easily. Fredrick motioned for Jules to wait as he went through the door first.

  Inside, the house was quiet and dark, the dining room and kitchen echoing every little movement that Fredrick and Jules made. Jules grimaced as she hit her leg on a chair leg. She covered her mouth so that she would not cry out with the sharp pain in her thigh.

  Fredrick gave her a look of concern. Jules put on a brave smile and nodded that she was fine. They moved through the rooms on the first floor but found them empty, one after the other. The upstairs likewise was empty. The light had been a half-spent candle in the study, but there were no other signs of life.

  When they came back down the stairs, Jules sighed, “Where is he?”

  “The cellar?” Fredrick suggested. “I saw two doors outside that looked like they might have led into an old root cellar.”

  Jules nodded, “Then we should look and see.”

  “You are really a rather brave woman,” Fredrick said with a smile.

  Jules assured the man, “I am quite afraid.”

  “This whole business is enough to set anyone’s hair on end,” Fredrick said. “I, myself, would very much like this all to be a bad dream and tomorrow we will laugh about it over breakfast.”

  Jules smiled. “That would be nice,” she said quietly as she followed Fredrick back out the door to the porch.

  Sure enough, just past the porch steps, two wooden doors were set into the ground. Fredrick took a deep breath and bent over to grab one of the wooden doors while Jules grabbed the other. They heaved the heavy wooden doors open and peered into the darkness.

  “I’ll go grab the candle from the study,” Jules said quickly. “Just wait, yeah?”

  Fredrick nodded and sighed as he leaned heavily on his cane. By the time Jules made her way back out, Fredrick had lowered himself onto the porch steps and was resting his leg there. She put her hand on the man’s shoulder, “Are you certain that you don’t want to remain here? I can yell if I need anything.”

  “I might have half a leg, but I am not half a man,” Fredrick said as he levered himself up to stand once again.

  Jules frowned at the man and shook her head. “You have nothing to prove to anyone, Fredrick,” she reminded him.

  “I know that,” Fredrick said then he shrugged, “I am just anxious to find Gregory and be away from here. It feels like if I move that it will happen faster.”

  Jules nodded and agreed, “I understand the need to do something. Well, let’s go see if we can’t round up that husband of mine.”

  The two of them turned to the cellar. Jules went down first because she had the candle. Fredrick followed her carefully down the steps.

  The wooden steps creaked and groaned with their weight, but thankfully they held. Fredrick cursed a few times as the steps were slippery with the pervasive dampness of the cellar.

  When they got down to the bottom of the steps, they saw the root cellar was lined with shelves, wooden floor, and wooden walls. There were no signs of Gregory, but there were some scuff marks on the floor. “Look at that,” Jules said as she pointed down to the ground at the marks. “It looks like someone was dragged through here.”

  “Yes, but where did they go after they were dragged? There is literally nothing here that would hide a person,” Fredrick said in dissatisfaction as he looked around the room. “Did you hear that?”

  They both stilled and listened. A low, almost imperceptible keening seemed to be coming from the walls. Jules followed the noise and found that where the trail of scuffs ended at the wall was where the sound was coming from.

  “Fredrick, I think there is someone or something in the wall,” Jules said. She was afraid of what they might find, but she helped Fredrick feel along the wall for anyway to pry it open.

  “Here,” Fredrick said as he was able to get some grip on the wooden panel. Jules did her best to help but found it to be not much as she could not get a grip on the panel.

  The wooden panel finally creaked, snapped, and then fell out of place. There was a groan and thumping, and Jules shrieked as she fell backwards. “We mean you no harm,” she said with fear.

  “Jules?” A low, hoarse whisper asked.

  Jules scurried forward and grabbed the person to pull them into the candlelight that had fallen on the floor. “Gregory,” Jules said in victory as she recognized the man. “You are alive,” she gushed with relief as she wrapped her arms around the man.

  “Boris, where’s Boris?” Gregory asked as he winced from the force of his wife’s embrace.

  Fredrick picked up the candle even if it was of little danger on the damp floor. He said, “Boris is in London, and I do not think you will like what he has had to say.”

  ***

  Lady St Claire stepped up to the manor door and took off her gloves as she waited on Olly to put the carriage away. She had been out all morning trying to get a feel for who Boris had told his story to and just how much of it people were willing to go along with. She had been rather dismayed to find that Boris’ impending marriage with the Marquis’ daughter had swayed a lot of her fellows to throw their lot in with Boris, even though only a few of them actually believed the story that was being touted as truth.

  William opened the door and frowned, “Are you okay, My Lady?”

  “Yes,” Lady St Claire said as she put on a smile. “There is nothing we cannot ove
rcome if we just keep our chins up and our noses clean.”

  William nodded. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said as he watched the woman go upstairs to change.

  Miss Combs the cook came out of the kitchen. “That the Missus, back?”

  “Yes.” William nodded. “She’ll be down for tea soon.”

  Miss Combs smiled. “She always takes it at the same time. I do hope the children get back soon.” The older woman’s smile faltered a bit. “I’m a bit afraid for all of us, to be honest, Will. There’s no telling what will happen to us all if what Sir Davenport said comes to pass.”

  “I don’t think the boys would stand for their father’s legacy being treated in such a way,” William said, and he gave the woman a pat on the back to comfort her. “Don’t get yourself upset until we know what is going to happen.”

  Miss Combs nodded and agreed, “That is always best, but it is hard to keep that in mind.”

  “I know. I’ve worked for the St Claire family since I was a boy,” William said thoughtfully. “Don’t really know what I would do otherwise.”

  ***

  “He’s not going to get away with it,” Gregory said. Jules and Fredrick had finally managed to calm the man enough to allow them to get him to a doctor. It had been horrible trying to keep the man in the saddle, but finally, they had arrived at a local doctor only to have to convince Gregory again that he needed to be seen.

  The doctor overlooked Gregory’s ramblings explaining, “Blood loss makes people spout all sorts of things. I won’t hold him to any of his words.”

  Jules was relieved to hear it as Gregory insisted on rambling about Boris and his uncle. “Darling, just quiet down now, and let the doctor work. You’ll be back in London soon enough to set things right,” Jules said coaxingly which seemed to work for a bit.

  Fredrick sighed with relief as Gregory grew silent, even if it was only temporary. He longed to head back to London, but what Gregory had said nagged at him as they got him from the cellar to the doctor’s house.

  Gregory had insisted that Uncle Lawrence was in the house, but they had found no trace of the man while searching for Gregory.

  “I should ride back up to the house and search again. Perhaps there are more chambers like the one that Gregory was in,” Fredrick said finally.

  Jules looked at Fredrick in concern. “If you must, but please don’t delay. As soon as Gregory is able, we need to return to London.” Jules' voice held an anxiousness that Fredrick could relate to.

  Fredrick nodded. “I shall endeavour to be quick,” he said. “Don’t give them too much trouble, Your Grace,” Fredrick said to his brother who merely grunted in response. Fredrick asked the doctor’s wife, “May I borrow a lantern or candle? The light is non-existent in the cellar that I need to search.”

  The woman who had been standing nearby looking on at what was happening swiftly nodded and left the room. She returned a moment later with a lantern. “This should work well enough. We keep spares around for emergencies.”

  “I think this qualifies,” Fredrick said with a laugh as he accepted the lantern from the woman. He left shortly after with a dip of his head to Jules and Gregory.

  It took the doctor several minutes more to clean and dress Gregory’s wounds. When the doctor stood up, he sighed wearily. “You may want to let him rest the night here,” the doctor suggested kindly.

  “There is a guest room where you can stay the night with your husband if you wish,” the doctor’s wife offered.

  Jules looked at Gregory swaying slightly in his chair and gave in. “Alright. Perhaps we should stay for a bit,” Jules said softly. “Gregory, let’s go get you lying down.” She put her arm under one of the man’s arms, and the doctor helped her to lift Gregory to his unsteady feet.

  Through much effort, they got Gregory to the guest bed, and the man sank into the feather mattress without even a whimper. A few moments later, Gregory’s breath was coming in soft, even puffs.

  Jules sat down on the bed next to her husband and tentatively touched his hair. There was a bandage over the back left of his head where there was a deep gash.

  “What am I going to do with you?” Jules asked softly, but the man did not stir. She lay down beside him and felt the heaviness of her own eyelids before she too succumbed to sleep.

  ***

  The next time Jules stirred, it was to the sound of the cleaning. She got up and cursed under breath. The sky was streaked with light outside their window. She had not meant to sleep so long.

  Downstairs, Jules found the doctor’s wife cheerily making breakfast. “Good morning,” she said softly as she came into the kitchen.

  “Oh, good morning. How is your husband?” the woman asked with a smile.

  It felt odd not to be addressed as some honorific, but then they had not formally introduced themselves, and Jules found it refreshing. She smiled. “He’s still sleeping. I’m afraid I fell asleep myself,” Jules said in conversation as she came over to where the woman was cooking. “Can I help in any way?”

  “Oh mercy, no,” the woman waved off Jules’ offer. “I like cooking, and we often have guests with my husband’s line of work. Works out well.”

  Jules nodded thoughtfully. “Did my brother-in-law come back last night?”

  “The tall fellow with the cane?” the woman asked. When Jules nodded, she said, “I haven’t seen him. I thought he might have gone back to London perhaps.”

  Jules sighed. “I don’t think he would have done so without us,” she said in worry.

  “Worry after breakfast. Your husband needs his strength. I’ll be up in a bit with your food,” the doctor’s wife said as she ushered Jules back out of the kitchen.

  Try as she might, Jules could not wait on the worry. It was not like Fredrick at all not to come back to help. With one attempt being made on Fredrick already, the man’s absence was very worrying for Jules. Upstairs she put on a smile and gently rubbed Gregory’s shoulder, “It’s morning. Wake up, sleepyhead.”

  Gregory’s eyes blinked open, and he started to sit up but winced. “Easy,” Jules said softly.

  “What manner of beast is inside my skull?” Gregory groaned out the question.

  Jules laughed, “Probably the kind with big stomping feet. Breakfast will be up in a moment. How are you feeling other than the beast in your skull?”

  “Alive,” Gregory said softly. “I thought I was dreaming last night when I saw you and Fred.”

  Jules shook her head and said, “Of course not. What a silly dream that would have been.” Jules’ lighthearted teasing was broken off as Gregory pulled her to him and crushed her in a hug so tight she could scarcely breathe.

  “I searched for you,” Gregory whispered desperately.

  Jules hugged the man back and said softly, “I know. Master Foster told me.”

  “Where were you? I would hear all of it, even the bad or worse,” Gregory insisted.

  Jules disentangled herself from the man with a smile. “First things first; it sounds like our breakfast has arrived,” she said tenderly.

  Sure enough, the doctor’s wife brought in a tray with two plates full of hash and some bread. “I am so glad to see you awake,” the woman said to Gregory who merely nodded. “Now I imagine your head is splitting, so my husband sent me with some headache powder.”

  “Blessed woman,” Gregory exclaimed as he let her place a couple of spoonfuls of the powder into his mouth which he washed down hastily with water.

  Breakfast was quiet as Jules did not want to distract Gregory from eating. The man needed to eat as much as possible with his condition, and she thought that talking of Fredrick at the moment might just be a detriment to that. As soon as Gregory showed signs of being full, Jules cleared her throat, “Before we head back to London this morning, we’ll need to go check on Fredrick. He went back to the house to make sure that your uncle really was not there. He should have returned last night, but he has not.”

  Jules expected Gregory to be angry that she had
not told him at once, but he just nodded and said, “Then we should be on our way.”

  ***

  The house looked different in the daylight, Jules thought as they approached. They had found Fredrick’s horse tied up in the woods a bit back, and Gregory now rode the horse. Instead of going through the woods, they opted to keep to the trail and simply rode up to the house.

  The house was quiet and dark. Gregory slid off the horse and winced at how the landing jarred his head. “Are you sure that you are up to this?” Jules asked in concern as she slipped down off her own horse.

  Gregory shrugged. “Does it matter? I need to find my brother.”

  Jules could not disagree with the man’s sentiment, but yes it did matter to Jules if Gregory was okay. “It matters to me,” she said softly.