Well, whatever the future would be if I were not faced with such uncertainly. Oh Frank, I wonder at times if you haven’t set Zachariah in my path to ensure my happiness. Looking after me even though you are gone. To think I could ever imagine my life with another by my side. And yet, with Zachariah—it makes me contented just to imagine waking up each morning by his side.
The sound of horses neighing came from outside and Melody frowned as the carriage slowed.
“What is it, coachman?” She realized she did not know the name of the kindly-looking fellow who was taking her to her destination.
The carriage came to a halt and she heard the coachman jump off the front. Curious, she opened the door and stepped out into the road.
“Boulders,” the man said as he surveyed the trouble ahead of them. Indeed, several boulders were strewn along the road ahead of them, making it impossible to pass through. “We’ll have to go ‘round. Adds twenty minutes to the journey, but what can we do?”
Melody nodded as a shiver ran down her spine. They were now in the middle of the forest, there were no homes or business nearby. This wasn’t good. Something about this was decidedly strange. Why would the road be clear up until this area and then—
“Faith!” She jumped back as an arrow came flying out of the thicket and hit the coachman in the arm. The man gasped and staggered back, yanking the arrow.
“Run, Miss!” He called out to her just as another arrow came. This one missed the man but landed right by Melody’s feet.
She swallowed as up ahead a horse charged her way. She looked up ahead for only a moment to see the outline of the man, but that was all it took. She knew who had come for her, who was responsible. She dashed into the forest, hoping the trees would swallow her up before he could find her. For there was no doubt in her mind: Obadiah Caney had come for her at last.
Chapter 40
The sound of a carriage arriving outside brought Zachariah out of his thoughts and he rushed out of the drawing room and into the hall. He had hardly made it out of the drawing room when he spotted Caleb, who wore a grim expression upon his visage.
“What is it, Caleb? You look rather Friday-faced, old chum.” His steward shook his head.
“It is nothing. The constables have just left with our captive. He was questioned once more but gave no inclination of who he is working for.”
“Well, we knew this already. No need to fret over it. Sooner or later he will. Or if not, then we will find out on our own.”
Caleb nodded but his mind was elsewhere, it was easy to see.
“Are you missing your creampuff? Is that it?” For the briefest of moments, a smile flashed on his friend’s face but then faded away. “I do but that is not why I am concerned. You do realize, if it was not Caney who arranged your kidnapping, then we have no idea who it was. Another attempt could be made at any time.”
Zachariah knew this well.
Whoever was after me did not get what they wanted. I was freed and the ransom money returned. Thus their entire venture proved futile.
However, would they be so foolish as to try again? He didn’t think so. Caleb, on the other hand, was worried, it was plain to see.
“What do you suggest, then?”
Caleb licked his lips as he considered. “Perhaps it would be wise to increase security around the estate to ensure nothing of that nature happens again.” Zachariah found himself inclined to agree. He would not like to repeat the experience of being held against his will. Neither would he wish such a treatment upon anyone else near and dear to him. That included his mother. They were not currently speaking to one another but this didn’t mean he wished harm upon her.
“Very well. Hire more men to protect the estate and assign a guard to my mother, if she likes it or not. When Melody gets here, we ought to assign one to her as well. Simply by proximity, she might be in danger.” He paused before looking up at Caleb again. “We must be sure to catch whoever was behind it all, otherwise we will never return to living a peaceful life.”
Caleb nodded. “We must and we will. Given that we can rule out Obadiah Caney after all, we need to re-examine the possibilities.” Noticing Zachariah’s distracted expression he stopped and raised a hand. “We will discuss the matter later. I see you are utterly captivated by the as yet closed front door.”
Zachariah was about to make a smart remark when a knock on the door caught his attention. With bated breath he stood and watched as the door opened.
From their position on the staircase, Zachariah could not get a clear view of just who was standing there. Mr. Winston, their butler, also blocked his view. Alas, the moment Winston stepped aside and Zachariah could see the callers’ faces, he felt his own fall and a wave of disappointment descended upon him.
For, the person before him was not Melody Balfour at all.
Rosalind’s ears perked up at the sound of the arriving carriage and she made her way down the stairs. This woman, this commoner, would not get her claws into Rosalind’s only son. She would not allow it.
As long as I draw breath, I will ensure that my son marries a proper lady. Not some widow who runs an inn.
She’d mulled over the unfortunate argument with her son all night long. The truth be told, she understood why he was angry. For to him, her actions might be more those of a concerned landowner than those of a mother. But then, he was never the most practical of thinkers. His head was always full of ideas and dreams. The reality of life often seemed to slip from his grasp.
Surely, he would understand her actions with him. And surely, after some rest and reflection—and further persuasion—he would see the use in marrying well, for respect and station instead of for love.
Love! Such a silly notion. Who needs love? I managed well with my arranged marriage. We were both contented. These young people today and their silly ideas.
Rosalind was about to barge into the drawing room at full speed, her face stern, her gown regal. She intended to give the young woman a proper fright and put her in her place—however, the moment she stepped through the drawing room door she could not help but smile.
“Lady Adelaide! What a wonderful surprise. And Lord and Lady Bellsover.”
Rosalind broke in a smile. So, the proper bride-to-be had arrived just in time to turn the tide around in her favor, it seemed.
She glanced at her son, who was seated across from Lady Adelaide, his face dark and forlorn. Mr. Ridlington stood toward the back of the room, near the fireplace. One thing Rosalind liked about him was that in proper company, he knew his place.
“Good afternoon, Mother. Lord Bellsover here was just explaining the purpose of his visit to me. I suppose you would like to remain?”
The two locked eyes. She knew he wanted nothing more than for her to leave, to allow him to further ruin his future. She would not, of course. As a mother and a duchess, she knew her place just as well as the steward knew his.
And her place was here, beside her son and the woman who would make him a wonderful wife. And she would not leave. Not for anything. Not until this unfortunate matter was dealt with once and for all.
Chapter 41
Melody ran through the woods as fast as her feet could carry her.
If only I wasn’t in this awful gown. Pretty as it is, it’s not for running.
Alas, she had chosen to listen to Betsy and donned one of the few formal dresses her friend owned. It was a light blue, ankle-length gown she’d paired with half-boots. It looked pretty, yes, but now she’d give anything to be in her practical gown and shoes instead—she might have a chance to get away.
Of course, running from a madman in the forest was not something on her mind when choosing this particular outfit. She hiked the gown up as far as she dared and rushed through the woods, her eyes on a clearing ahead.
If I can make it through there, I will be all right. I know that there is a tavern on the other side. Surely, they will assist me.
She shut out the sounds of the horse behind her as it
closed the distance between them. She ignored the shouts of the man perusing her to stop. All she thought of was running, running as fast as she could. The clearing came and went and she dashed right when—
“No!” She yelped as her foot caught on a tree root and she fell forward. The air was knocked out of her with the force of her fall and she clasped her hand around her throat as she attempted to recover.
“Perdition,” she cursed. A moment later the horse stopped and a man jumped off the horse, rushing toward her. Before she could recover herself, she was yanked up by the armpits.
“Got you at last, lass. Would have been so much easier for both of us if you hadn’t decided to run. No matter. Now, get on the horse.” He pushed her forward but she resisted, planting her feet firmly on the ground and pushing back.
“I will do no such thing!” she glared at the horse as the man continued to push her.
“Suit yourself. I wanted to make it easier for you. But no. Troublesome wench.” He grabbed her by the hair causing her to yelp.
I cannot allow him to drag me onto that horse. Who knows where he will take me? Think, Melody Balfour. Think! I haven’t witnessed countless bar fights for nothing.
She struggled and lashed out at the man. She had indeed witnessed many a bar fight and broken up a fair number of them herself. Determined to put her knowledge to good use, she closed her eyes, replaying the way in which those fights had occurred. A smile spread across her face. She mimicked the movements she’d seen so many times, twisted the man’s arm away from her hair and then turned around so her backside was pointing toward his stomach. With all her power she kicked the man in the chin. He screamed out in pain and at once let go of her hair.
Melody stumbled forward but righted herself at once. Turning back, she looked at him. His mask had slipped down, revealing a young face covered in stubble.
“Wench! I will get you for this!” He attempted to rise but winced and fell back down, rolled into a ball. Knowing he would eventually recover, Melody knew just what to do. She rushed forward and landed a blow between his shoulder blades.
“Balderdash! Jove!” The man exclaimed and rolled over onto his side like a sack of falling potatoes.
“Still coming to get me now, then?” She glared at him, adrenalin rushing through her.
“You just wait,” he gasped. “I…” Melody stepped back, chiding herself for provoking him further with her taunt. For, while the man was down now, he would surely not remain that way for long. Melody grabbed the hem of her gown, pulled it up again and ran toward the tavern which lay just beyond the clearing, at the end of the road.
It wasn’t until the building came into view that she stopped with relief. She rested against a tree stump and her hand traveled to her neck. She wanted to hold on to the locket Zachariah had given her, the one with the angel of protection, that she realized with horror—it was gone.
Chapter 42
Adelaide sat across from the Duke and did her best to smile at him, even though he steadfastly refused to so much as look in her direction. She did not mind. He was still upset from the ordeal, it seemed. It was this, his great shock and frightening experience, that led him to act in such an irrational manner as to refuse her hand in marriage. In favor of a barmaid. No proper peer of the realm would act in so uncouth a manner, not unless he found himself greatly distressed still. All he needs is convincing. Some rational talk, and some small push to see reality once more.
Alas, as of right now, the Duke did not seem willing to entertain rational thought or reason.
“As my steward already informed you, I have no intention of marrying your daughter, My Lord. I am grateful for the offer of assistance. An assistance we luckily did not need to make use of.”
“Be that as it may. An agreement is an agreement. We held up our end of it by supplying the funds. Now you must hold up yours.”
The Duke’s mother cleared her throat then. “He is right, Zachariah. We are aristocrats. We must act as such. If we stop honoring our word and traditions, what are we? No better than savages.”
Adelaide smiled to herself. She liked the Duchess. Yes, she would be a wonderful mother-in-law. If only the Duke would relent.
“Savages? Because I refuse to give in to an arrangement made behind my back? That I never agreed to and the terms of which were not even fulfilled?”
‘They were!” Adelaide heard herself say. “My dowry was given to you. Used or not, our part was fulfilled.”
He turned and blinked, evidentially surprised.
She did not back down. “A promise is a promise.”
“My daughter is right,” her mother said. Outside, rain was falling and hammered against the large windows. The change in weather cast a gloomy atmosphere over the room.
The Duke got up then and walked toward the window, tapping his fingers rapidly on his arm.
“I do not know in how many more ways I can tell you this. I do not wish to marry Lady Adelaide. We are ill-suited for one another, first of all. I am much older than her. And besides.” He shrugged then, looking directly at her. “I feel no connection or attraction at all.”
Adelaide’s mouth dropped open momentarily at this cruel remark and beside her, his mother gasped.
“Zachariah! Mind your manners.”
“Why should I? I attempted to be polite about this matter, but it was in vain. Lady Adelaide,” he addressed her directly. “You must know that you do not have to lower yourself so far down as to try and force an arrangement that I was never a willing participant in. You do not have to wed at all, if you do not wish. There are other options for a young lady.”
Adelaide cleared her throat. “I know there are. But I wish to be a wife. And I do not care that you are rude, for a I know you have been through an ordeal. And I know that you would grow to like me well enough, if you only gave it a chance.”
At this, the Duke groaned and threw his hands in front of his face. The duchess rose and made her way toward her son who quickly lifted a hand to stop her.
“No, Mother. I will not be convinced.”
The steward stepped forward then and joined the Duke, his eyes focused on Adelaide and her parents. The sight of the smarmy steward made Adelaide’s skin crawl.
“I believe His Grace has made his wishes clear.”
“And I believe we’ve made it clear that a promise was made and we intend to enforce it.”
The steward clicked his tongue. “There is no legal standing in this regard. A promise, as Lady Adelaide so eloquently stated, may indeed be a promise, but it is not legally binding at all. And besides, may I remind you, My Lord, that the dowry you so generously offered up was never needed. You, in essence, provided a line of credit, shall we say, that went unused. That is all.”
“In any case, I am not cattle to be auctioned off to the highest bidder, and I must say your mere presence here makes me pity you. All of you. This desperation to wed well is simply…. unsettling. And as it were, I already have a lady who has captured my heart. If I am to wed, it will be to her and nobody else.”
“Ah! The barmaid. The barmaid again,” the Duchess cried out. Adelaide watched as her son ignored his poor mother and scowled past her, outside of the window.
Adelaide felt a rage flare up inside of her.
What an ungrateful man. What did I ever see in him? He is a vile man and I did not see it, as I was fascinated by his beautiful exterior and his wealth. Yet now I can see he’s truly rotten through and through.
She shuddered at the realization. All the things she’d done for him, all the schemes set in motion, and for what? She no longer wished to marry him at all. No, she wished to have nothing further to do with him.
Adelaide turned to her father then. “Papa, it seems His Grace is determined to go to his ruin. I suggest we do not join him on that journey.”
Her parents exchanged a look, but when they saw her rise, they too stood. An awkward moment passed between the parties as nobody was quite sure how to end this call in a civ
il manner. However, they needn’t have worried, for at that very moment the front door flew open and a man appeared.
An old man, clad in the livery of Sandorne House, stumbled through the door. He was bleeding from the arm, his face covered in dirt and he supported himself on the door frame, leaving dirty stains on the pristine white wall.
“Your Grace,” he gasped. “Your Grace, she has been taken.”
The Duke dashed forward at once and took the man by the arm to keep him from sliding onto the floor.
“Taken? Who?” The alarm in his voice was almost amusing to Adelaide, because she knew as well as he the identity of the ‘she’ in question.
Desperately Inn Love with the Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 24