Kidnapping the Duke

by Killarney Sheffield

  A whinny caught her attention. Unable to turn and look out the window to the front of the lodge where the sound came from, she cocked her head and listened. Footsteps crunched through the snow, and boots clomped across the narrow porch. When the door opened, a gust of cool air swirled about her ankles.

  “Felicity?”

  Her breath caught in her throat at the sound of William’s voice. Wiggling she tried to gain his attention.

  “Felicity.” He came around in front of the chair and knelt down.

  “Mmm!”

  “Good Lord!” With a look of shock, he removed the gag from her mouth. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks unchecked as he untied her hands. Once free she flung her arms around him. “I thought you would not come for me.”

  “I knew you would.”

  Felicity and William turned as Monty Carivale stepped from the bedchamber with a pistol in his hand.

  William put her from him and stood. “What is going on here?”

  “You have been selected for removal, my lord.”

  “Removal? By whom?”

  Monty sneered. “Why, by the Black Rider. Those who befoul the sanctimony of marriage end up being judged and sentenced by me.”

  “Is this some kind of jest, Monty?” William stepped toward the man.

  Monty lifted the pistol higher.

  “No!” Forgetting her ankles were still bound, Felicity jumped to her feet. With a squeal she toppled forward and fell into William.

  He wobbled and went down on his knees. “Are you all right, Felicity?”

  She nodded, a sob building in her throat.

  Monty snickered. “Such a touching sight.”

  William scowled at him. “Why are you doing this?”

  “You know why, William. You are no better than your father. He befouled my mother and then killed your mother and Lord Beinfait for doing the same. And in true test of your blood you took advantage of Miss Beinfait in this very lodge. Because of this, I sentence you to death by hanging.”

  William got to his feet, his face red with anger and his fists balled by his sides. “You are going to decide my fate? Ha! I would like to see you try, Carivale.”

  As if on cue the door opened and half a dozen men clad in black, with masks covering their faces, entered. Monty smirked. “I do not have to try. My men will see it done.”

  “Stop!” Felicity pleaded, still on her knees. “I told you, Monty, nothing happened. It was all my fault. If someone is to be punished, it should be me. I kidnapped the duke with my only thought of financial gain and revenge. He did nothing except try and help me. He nursed me back to health when I fell sick. He paid the debt the courts decided, without once complaining, even though it was not fair. I beg you to spare him.”

  “How touching.” Monty shook his head. “You must be quite the lover, your grace, to have swayed the chit with the power of your manhood. Take him out to the tree, men.”

  Two of the men stepped forward and grasped the duke by his arms, pushing him before them out the door.

  When Felicity tried to stand, Monty pushed her back into the chair. “Untie her feet and bring her along too.”

  A man did as Monty commanded, untying her feet and then propelling her along to the door. A large bonfire burned in the center of the clearing a dozen feet from a large oak tree. Two rope nooses hung from a branch fifteen feet above the ground. William’s hands were bound behind his back, and then he was helped aboard his horse.

  William struggled against his bounds, as a man held anxious Spartan in check and another settled the noose about his neck. “You will not get away with this, Carivale!”

  Monty laughed. “But of course I will, just as I have dozens of times before.”

  Felicity fought against the man who held her, terror bubbling inside. “I will tell what you have done.”

  “No,” Monty drawled, “I think not, for you will swing by a knot today as well.”

  One of the men stepped forward. “See here, Carivale, you cannot hang a woman.”

  “Why not?” Monty asked with a sneer. “She is just a guilty as he is. Why should only the men be punished for faithlessness?”

  Another man spoke up, “Nay! I will not take part in the killing of women.”

  A third man joined in. “Nor I!”

  Monty stepped forward to take the horse’s bridle. “Then I shall do it.”

  Murmurs went up from the group, and then the masked men began to mount their horses and leave.

  William spoke up. “Let the girl go, Monty, she did nothing wrong.”

  “I think not. First I will hang you, then I will hang her.”

  The man holding her let go. “I cannot go along with killing a woman.”

  Monty trained his gun on her. “All right, I shall do what must be done myself.” He looked over at William. “It is time to meet your Maker, Lancastor. Any last words?”

  “Stop!”

  All three looked to the figure on the horse galloping into the clearing. The horse skidded to a halt in a flurry of material, sweat and snow. Rebecca Carivale launched herself from the puffing animal and stalked over to her brother. “I said, ‘stop!’ You promised you would not hurt him. You said you were only going to scare him.”

  Monty smiled. “I lied, dear sister. That is what men do. Have you not learned that by now?”

  “No! I told you I want him. You were supposed to kill her, not him.”

  “I refuse to allow my sister to wed a man who would seduce a young maiden.”

  Rebecca stared him down. “As if you could allow, or refuse me anything, Monty. Let him go.”

  “Do not be daft, Rebecca, I cannot let him go. If I do I will surely spend the rest of my days in Newgate.” He turned and raised his pistol in the air.

  “No!” Rebecca and Felicity leap forward at the same time. Spartan’s eyes rolled at the sight of billowing skirts. His front legs came up off the ground, ripping his bridle from Monty’s hand. The horse’s foreleg struck him and sent him reeling.

  Felicity grabbed the dangling reins. Rebecca snatched the gun from her brother. Spartan’s feet touched ground and he tried to bolt. Felicity held on for dear life. “Whoa, Spartan, whoa!”

  The horse kicked out, catching Rebecca square in the head as she backed away from Monty. The woman crumpled to the ground. Shouts and the thunder of hooves rebounded throughout the clearing. In a last ditch effort to escape Spartan slammed Felicity full force with his shoulder. She let out a whoosh of air and tumbled backward. His hooves barely missed her head as he galloped free.

  “No!” In horror she stared up at William hanging by his neck above her. His gasps and gurgles filled her ears, blocking out all other sounds. His lips puckered as his face turned red.

  Then Henry was there. He wrapped his arms around William’s legs and hoisted him up taking the pressure off the noose. “Cut him…down…your grace,” he grunted.

  Felicity broke from her trance and scrambled to her feet. She raced to the cabin, snatched up the meat clever and ran back. Someone jerked it from her hand, climbed the tree and chopped through the rope. William and Henry tumbled to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs and ragged breathing.

  “William? Oh William, are you all right?” Felicity knelt by her husband. His neck was red and raw where the rope had almost ended his life.

  “I am alive,” he croaked.

  She looked to Rebecca.

  Monty crouched in the mud and snow beside his prone sister, a pool of blood beneath her head. “Rebecca, Rebecca.”

  The man who had climbed the tree leaned down and felt her neck. “She is dead, Carivale.”

  “No, no!” Eyes wild, Monty held her lifeless body to his chest. “No.”

  William sat up. “Thank you, Henry, I owe you a debt of thanks I can never repay.”

  The butler got to his feet and extended a hand to his employer. “You are most welcome, your grace.” He scooped up Lord Carivale’s fallen
weapon and handed it to the stranger. “You had best take this, my lord.”

  Felicity stared up at the man who could have been her husband’s twin. “Christian?”

  He smiled and held out his hand to help her up. “At your service, my lady. You must be my brother’s new bride.”

  She glanced down at her muddied skirts, and then tucked a lock of disheveled hair behind her ear. “Oh fie, I must look a fright.”

  “I think you look beautiful, like an Amazon warrior princess.”

  William cleared his throat. “I will remind you to keep your honeyed tongue in check when it comes to my wife, brother.”

  Christian grinned. “Only if you promise to tell me how you captured such a stunning maiden, Will.”

  Felicity giggled. “Actually it is I who kidnapped him.”

  Christian’s brows rose. “Do tell?”

  “It is a long story,” William mumbled.

  Christian peered up at the sky. “Well it is a long ride back to town.”

  Henry spoke up. “I think, her grace, has had enough excitement for one day, your lordships. Perhaps my lord and lady should stay here the night while we take Lord Carivale to the authorities.”

  William took Felicity’s hand. “Are you all right?”

  “I am fine, a little sore, but no worse for wear.”

  They hoisted Rebecca’s body over the back of a horse, tied Lord Carivale on his, and then mounted up. William led Felicity to the lodge as the men rode out of the clearing. “Come, you are shaking.”

  Through chattering teeth, she reassured him, “I am cold is all.”

  He nodded. “I will stoke the fire and brew a strong pot of tea.”

  * * *

  Felicity leaned back in the chair by the fire and tucked her feet under the blanket across her lap. Using the sleeves of one of William’s old shirts she wore, she cradled the hot cup of tea. She glanced at William, who sat in the opposite chair, staring into the fire’s flames. Being here with him was both comforting and unnerving. She sighed. Where to go now?

  “I owe you an apology.”

  She looked at him with a guarded gaze. “I do not see why. After all I am the one that caused all of this trouble in the first place.”

  He shook his head and she was struck by the sadness lingering in his blue eyes. “I never believed you, about my father, I mean. For that I apologize.”

  Felicity sighed. “I never really believed my father committed adultery. Now I am not sure how to feel. I guess I was as naive as most ladies, and had no idea society was so depraved.”

  “Society has never been what it seems, Felicity. It is naught but a pageant of manners on display to make everyone look moral and right. Beneath it all, I suppose, we are all ruled by our own desires.”

  “I do not understand Monty’s reasoning.”

  William leaned back in his chair. “I can understand his outrage over his mother and his desire to protect his sister. Though the way he went about it was as heinous as it comes.”

  “So…where do we go from here?” She dropped her gaze to the pattern on the wool blanket across her lap.

  “We forgive each other and put the past where it belongs, in a pine box six feet under.”

  His logic made sense. “I am not sure how we start over.”

  “I have an idea.”

  She gave him a skeptical look. “You do?”

  “Why not start by getting to know each other without anyone staring and whispering, just you and me, here together?”

  “Here, at the lodge?”

  He grinned. “Why not? As long as I get to do the cooking, because I will run out of burn salve if you do it.”

  She could not help giggling. “Agreed, but what chore am I to do to do my share?”

  He stood and held out his hand. “I will ask nothing more of you, my dear, than to allow me to worship your glorious curves in my bed each night.”

  Her face heated. “William, again you will be the one doing all the work for my pleasure.”

  “I do not mind in the least.” He drew her out of the chair and into his arms.

  She melted to him as his lips claimed hers making her bare toes curl.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  A week spent at the hunting lodge was the best week Felicity had spent with William. They filled each day with cooking, playing in the snow that fell the second day of their stay, talking by the cozy fire, and making sweet love to each other each night. The day they returned to his London house was bittersweet. Though they were returning with a sense of unity and the first blooms of love, Felicity could not help wish they could stay in the lodge forever. The harsh accusations and whispers of their peers would be worse than before. By now, all of London would have heard what transpired with young Lord Carivale and his sister.

  When Henry greeted them at the door upon their arrival home, Felicity dropped proper protocol and gave him a hug. “It is so good to see you, Henry.”

  The butler’s face turned red and he gently extricated himself from her embrace. “Um…yes, well, ’tis good to have you and his grace home, my lady. Lizzy is waiting upstairs to help you change out of your traveling attire.”

  “Thank you.” Felicity headed up stairs. She found her maid already unpacking the trunk Henry had delivered to the lodge a week earlier. “Good day, Lizzy.”

  “Welcome home, my lady.”

  Felicity dug a small box from her reticle and handed it to the maid. “His lordship and I were browsing a couple of the little shops in the town near the lodge one day and I spied this. I thought you might like it.”

  “A gift for me? Why thank you, my lady.” The maid beamed and opened the box. Her gasp when she pulled the delicate cross pendant on a thin silver chain out was all the thanks Felicity needed. “Oh, my lady, ’tis beautiful.”

  She took the pendant and placed it around the maid’s neck. “I am glad you like it, Lizzy. Now I should like to change and wander out to the garden to see Pumpkin.”

  The kitten had grown and was starting to explore his world on shaky legs. Pumpkin was sleek and happy, purring away in the little garden shed, keeping careful watch over her baby. The sight warmed Felicity’s heart. She could not help wondering if she might have her own baby to watch over soon. The idea of cuddling William’s child appealed to her more than she would have thought a month ago. With a smile, she patted the cat and wandered back up the garden path.

  Henry hurried down the back steps. “Your grace, there is a visitor here to see you.”

  “Me?” Felicity followed him inside to the parlor. Henry ushered her inside and she found an elderly gentleman awaiting her. She recognized the white haired man in fine attire leaning heavily on a gold-topped cane by the fire as the elder Lord Carivale.

  He turned and gave a stiff bow at her entrance. “Lady Lancastor, I am so pleased you could see me on such short notice.”

  Felicity crossed to the settee and sat. “I have only just arrived home with my husband from the country.”

  “Ah, yes.” A sadness filled his eyes and he looked away a moment before continuing, “I take it you know who I am.”

  Puzzled she studied him a second. “Yes.”

  He cleared his throat.

  “You are Rebecca’s father.”

  He nodded. “And Monty’s too, I am afraid.”

  “I am sorry.” Felicity looked to the door Henry had closed behind her. Should she summon the butler back? The earl was most likely angry about the fate of his children. Did he intend her harm?

  “My dear, there is nothing to fear from the likes of me,” he confirmed with a small smile. “I am not here to make you pay for the mistakes of my children.”

  “You are not?” She pondered his incredulous revelation. The earl must be quite the man to overlook the death of his daughter and understand the true nature behind it.

  “No.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “May I sit?”

  “Oh, forgive my rudeness, please do. May I offer you a cup of tea, my lord?”


  “Please.” He sank into the chair with an arthritic groan.

  After pouring two cups of tea from the service one of the maids thoughtfully made available at the first sign of company, Felicity passed one to him. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “If you please I would like to hear your side of the whole story. I have heard the constables accounting of what happened at the lodge, but I would like to know of your days in the finishing school and how my daughter and son became involved.”

  She took a sip of her tea. The story was not one she wanted to relive, but she supposed she owed Rebecca’s father that much. “Rebecca and I…well, we were not exactly friends, my lord. She seemed to delight in embarrassing me and making things difficult. I suppose I should have tried harder to make her my friend—”

  He waved a frail, liver spotted hand to stop her. “Please, do not honey-coat the truth, Lady Lancastor. I know my daughter was not a sweet innocent young miss. When she was ten I caught her flogging her poor pony something terrible because he would not follow her around like an adoring puppy. She was a hate-filled girl sometimes. It is my fault, I suppose. I should have remarried a woman who could raise and nurture her. Being motherless was a cross she could not bear alone, and when I closeted myself away from the children in my grief over their mother’s passing, I did them a great disservice.” His hand shook and he laid it back atop his cane with a sorrowful look. “I have come to you seeking forgiveness and to right my children’s wrongs.”

  “I am flabbergasted, my lord, but you do not have to apologize.”

  “Please, I insist. Do not deny an old man a chance to right a wrong before he meets his Maker. I am here to make amends, anyway you see fit.”

  Her mind reeled and then settled on a thought which had been floating around in her subconscious all week. “I would be most glad to forgive you anything, my lord, but if you insist on some sort of recompense, I wonder if you might be able to help me with a small project I have in mind?”