The Forgotten Duke

by Sophie Barnes

  “What?” one of his men asked close to his shoulder.

  Carlton paused for a second to check on his instincts before striding forward more swiftly. He reached the gate in the fence and eased it open. Blayne’s shadow, tall and wide, moved to the far right of his peripheral vision. Carlton glanced toward it without concern and briefly considered approaching so he could tell Blayne and Patrick that the man who’d taken Ida must have given them the slip. Instead he went to the front door and knocked. Just to be certain.

  An old man opened the door. His wary gaze met Carlton’s and held it for a moment before he asked, “Can I help you with something?”

  Carlton glanced beyond the man’s shoulder at the neat foyer with landscape paintings hanging on the walls and a vase that stood on a narrow entrance table. The flowers in it didn’t look like they’d come from a hothouse but most likely from the man’s garden.

  “I’m lookin’ fer a young lady with blonde hair, about this height.” He held his hand up to his shoulder.

  The old man frowned. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen anyone matching that description. Few people come to call on me and my wife. Except our oldest son, on occasion. He’s got a good position as a clerk. Works for the barrister who helped Mrs. Lowell a while back. If you ask me, she deserved to win that case against her stepson. William thinks the judge was paid off or something.” He shook his head. “Who can you trust if not the hand of the law?”

  “I’m not sure,” Carlton muttered, his body absorbing the chill in the air like a sponge soaking up icy water. “Sorry to have troubled ye.”

  “I hope you find her. This woman you’re looking for.”

  “So do I.” Carlton tipped his hat and stepped back. The door closed. He turned to Blayne. “Where’s Patrick?”

  Blayne moved toward him until Carlton managed to make out parts of his face even though his large body was still slightly fuzzy around the edges. “I thought he was with you.”

  Every muscle in Carlton’s body tightened like the string of a newly crafted bow. His hands clenched at his sides so his nails dug into his palms. He barely registered the discomfort as his mind tried to make sense of this information. “Scarlet was easily snatched up. She could have been taken by anyone. But Ida… The man who took her knew exactly where to find her. He knew when the rest of the girls would be occupied with their clients so they wouldn’t notice her disappearance. He knew Philipa wasn’t there and he knew which room belonged to Ida.”

  A sick feeling started to grow in Carlton’s chest as the only possible explanation began to sink in. The man who’d been seen leaving Amourette’s fit Patrick’s height and appearance. And at the docks, Patrick could have whisked Ida away to a different location before Clause spoke with the beggar and found the warehouse where she had been.

  Christ!

  Why the hell had he not considered all of this sooner? He’d sensed that something was wrong with Patrick and yet he’d dismissed his suspicions. How could he have been so bloody careless? He shook his head. An uncomfortable shiver raked over his skin.

  Because of Regina.

  Because you were too damned distracted.

  Because…

  Regina.

  Time slowed as it had that day long ago when his father had fallen to the ground right before him. “Be quiet,” he’d whispered. “Don’t make a sound.”

  Every bone in Carlton’s body had been on the verge of collapse back then – like twigs that would surely topple in the face of a storm. Just like then, he could feel blood rushing through his veins with increasing speed, pushing his heart to pump a faster, more painful rhythm. He blinked and acknowledged the fear trickling through him, gradually building until it became a cascade. His mouth was dry, the nerves in the tips of his fingers vibrating as if preparing for him to do violence. And he would. By God he would murder that traitorous boy when he found him.

  “We have to get back!” He was already running toward the road, not caring if anyone else came with him – not bothering to waste any time with explanations. Because if his instinct was as good as it tended to be, Regina was in terrible danger – danger he’d put her in when he’d taken most of his men with him on this wild goose chase Patrick had sent him on.

  Increasing his pace, Carlton ran faster, only mildly aware that Blayne was with him. They ran until they spotted a carriage. Carlton didn’t bloody care if it was occupied or not, he’d toss the passengers out at gunpoint if he had to. Right now, nothing would stop him from getting back to The Black Swan and checking on the woman who captured his every thought. If anything happened to her… If someone took her, threatened her, hurt her…

  The carriage slowed when Blayne stepped into its path. The horses nickered as they reared back and trotted from side to side while the driver pulled on the reins.

  “What in blazes is wrong with you, man?” he shouted.

  “We need a ride,” Carlton told him while Blayne brought the horses under control with a firm grasp of their bridles. He flung the carriage door open and peered inside the compartment, happy to find a friendly face. “Yer Grace. I regret to be an inconvenience to ye, but me associate an’ I must return to St. Giles at once an’ yer carriage is the most efficient way to do so.”

  The Duke of Coventry didn’t look remotely amused, and for a second Carlton thought he’d have no choice but to threaten the man as he was prepared to do. Only this was someone he knew quite well – someone he respected and liked, which was something that couldn’t be said of most people.

  “I suppose I can spare a couple of spots since I’m heading that way myself,” Coventry said. His voice was stern and utterly fearless as he glared back at Carlton.

  “Come on, Blayne. Let’s go,” Carlton called. He climbed up into the carriage while Blayne told the driver where they were headed. A few of Carlton’s other men had caught up and Blayne gave them some coins so they could pay for a hackney if they found one.

  “You’re stopping by the school?” Carlton asked Coventry after a while, mostly for the purpose of thinking of something besides all the terrible things that might have happened to Regina during his absence. Driving himself mad wouldn’t help. He needed a clear head to think and to act as rationally as he could. For her sake.

  “The duchess often stays late. I thought I’d check if she’s still there before continuing home.”

  Coventry’s wife was Amelia Heathmore, sister to Raphe Mathews, the Duke of Huntley and Juliette Lowell, the Duchess of Redding. Carlton knew the siblings well. He’d taken them in when they’d been little and facing a similar fate to the one he’d faced when he’d fled the scene of his father’s murder. But they’d always resented him for turning Raphe into a fighter, for forcing him into tough matches and taking part of his winnings.

  As far as Carlton was concerned, he’d done the man a favor by teaching him how to survive.

  He glanced across at Coventry’s stony face. He and Amelia had done a great deal of good for St. Giles. She in particular, since it had been her idea to open a school for the children there that offered education on par with what upper class children received.

  “I heard about what you did for Mrs. Lowell,” Coventry said. He paused and for a moment Carlton thought that was it, that he wouldn’t say anything else. The carriage turned a sharp corner, and the duke reached for the strap beside his window. “If you continue being so helpful and generous with your blunt, people might start thinking you’re a good man.”

  “God forbid,” Carlton muttered. He stared back at Coventry through the darkness.

  “Any chance you’ll tell me what you were doing all the way out by Hackney Meadow or why you’re in such a rush to get back to St. Giles?” When Carlton didn’t answer Coventry leaned back into his corner, melding with the darkness. Neither said anything more for the rest of the journey, but when they arrived at the corner of Gerrard Street and Carlton followed Blayne out onto the pavement, he turned back and said, “Thank you, Yer Grace. I owe ye a favor.”
<
br />   He didn’t know if Coventry responded or not as he raced away with Blayne right behind him. “Where’s Patrick?” he shouted when he entered The Black Swan. A couple of men who’d been left behind to ‘hold up the fort’ as it were, appeared from the taproom.

  “Thought he was with you,” one of them said while Carlton dashed up the stairs. He took the steps two at a time and almost leapt onto the landing. Sweat dampened the back of his neck, causing a chill to wash over his skin. It intensified when he spotted the open door to his parlor and sank its teeth into his flesh when he stepped over the threshold and glanced around.

  Everything was exactly as it should be. Nothing looked out of place or different. But there was a lifelessness about the room now – a lack of presence – that told him Regina was gone.

  Even so, Carlton crossed to his bedchamber and peered inside. The bed was neatly made and the lavender he’d given her lay on her pillow, infusing the air with its rich scent. Carlton struggled to breathe. It felt as if he’d been buried alive and the weight of the world would soon crush his chest. For the first time in twenty years, a painful knot formed in his throat and threatened to choke him. He turned and went back to the parlor where Blayne’s incredulous gaze met his.

  “I’ll hunt him down and rip his eyes from his skull.” The words were forced out from somewhere deep inside him. His hands shook. Hell, his whole damn body felt as if it was wracked by some sort of crippling disease. “I’ll drown him in his own spit!”

  “We’ll find Lady Regina,” Blayne said, his voice eerily quiet and pensive. Jaw set, Carlton saw that in spite of the calm he exuded, he was tightly wound and ready to fight.

  Carlton inhaled deeply, hoping to clear his mind and rid himself of the anxiety clutching his body. “How?”

  “Patrick obviously thinks he stands to gain something from what he’s doing.”

  “I recruited him. I fucking recruited that bastard, put a roof over his head and fed him, made sure he received the care he needed when he took ill, and this is the thanks I get?” Heat pooled behind his brow, pulsing there until his head felt ready to explode.

  “Let’s take a moment,” Blayne said.

  “I don’t need a moment.” Carlton heard his teeth gnash as he clenched his jaw. “I need to do something. I need to—”

  “Let’s have a drink, gather our thoughts, and make a plan.”

  Carlton shifted his gaze and it landed on the tray on which the remains of Regina’s dinner still stood. It was as if she’d just set it aside for a moment and would soon return. “I can’t stand the idea of him touching her. Of her being cold or scared or…or possibly hurt.”

  “I know,” Blayne told him gently. “And I promise you that I will help you get her back. But rushing about without aim in the state you’re in won’t help. And neither will staying in this room.”

  There was wisdom in Blayne’s words – the sort that Carlton currently lacked. With a nod, he followed his friend downstairs. The men he’d had to leave behind at Hackney Meadows were now returning, and he made sure to offer his thanks along with an apology for the haste with which he’d left them. When Blayne explained the situation, their brows furrowed and their mouths tightened and it was clear that they understood.

  “Patrick betrayed you,” one of them said without any finesse. “He deserves whatever comes next.”

  The rest of the group agreed and Carlton felt his throat tighten again on account of their loyal support. He cleared it with a cough and accepted the glass of brandy Blayne handed to him. Its soothing warmth helped him gather his wits and focus on what must be done.

  “I need ye out there patrollin’ the streets an’…I ’ope ye’ll fergive me fer this, but I want all of ye in pairs. No one goes alone.” A quiet murmur was the first response followed by a series of concrete nods. His men seemed to accept the lack of trust he was willing to place in them now. “We need to find out where Ida an’ Regina are bein’ held and if Scarlet is with them. The fact that Patrick took these women tells me it’s no random snatch. He’s plannin’ somethin’, which means we may be short on time.” He downed the rest of his brandy to wash away the dread that resurfaced as he spoke those words. Holding the glass out, he let Blayne re-fill it. “Call in the children who were posted in front of Hedgewick House. The more eyes we’ve got, the better.”

  The look Blayne gave him was not lost on Carlton. Yes, he’d abandon all surveillance of Hedgewick in order to get Regina back. Nothing was more important right now. And although he told himself that his reasons were tied to his plans for revenge, he knew better. Regina mattered to him. More than anyone else ever had.

  14

  A shiver wracked Regina’s body as she sat across from Patrick in the carriage he’d acquisitioned. Not because she was cold but because she was starting to fear that he’d lied to her. Having fallen asleep on the sofa in Guthrie’s parlor, she’d been groggy and confused when he’d roused her.

  “You must come quickly,” he’d urgently told her. “Here. Put this on.” He’d flung a cloak over her shoulders and pulled up the hood.

  “Where…where are we going?”

  “Somewhere safer than here. Guthrie insists.”

  She’d yawned and done as he’d asked without further question. It wasn’t until now that she wondered why he’d been in the parlor instead of outside, knocking on the door. And what place could possibly be safer for her than at The Black Swan?

  As disturbed as she was, Regina tried to stay calm. Perhaps her concerns were unfounded. And yet, she needed more information than what he’d provided. “Why would I be in danger at The Black Swan, Patrick?”

  “Because you’ve been seen there, my lady.”

  Regina frowned. “Not in over a week. I’ve remained upstairs.”

  “Nevertheless. Guthrie doesn’t want to take the risk of the man who took Ida and Scarlet kidnapping you as well.”

  Regina stared at him while her insides started to quiver. “I didn’t think Guthrie was sure of their disappearances being connected.” She watched him closely, her unease growing as he clamped down his mouth and glared at her through the darkness. Swallowing, she reached for the door handle only to have him grab her wrist in a painful grip that twisted her skin.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he warned. “Best if you keep calm and do as I ask.”

  A tremor licked her spine. “You ought to let me go.” The calmness of her voice surprised her.

  Patrick yanked her across the space between them and locked her in a tight hold. “Not when you’re worth so damn much, my lady.” He chuckled lightly. “You’ll make me a wealthy man once I auction you off.”

  “What?” Surely she had misheard him.

  “Some men will pay a high sum to keep a woman like you as their pet.”

  “I’d rather die first,” she hissed and promptly yanked him sideways. Patrick pulled her back hard and tightened his hold, but when she continued to struggle, wriggling around in his arms, he lost his grip for a second and gave her the chance to leap for the door.

  “Damn you,” she heard him shout, then something hard hit the back of her head and she collapsed, hitting the floor of the carriage with a thud that ended in darkness.

  “I trust you’re still a virgin?” Patrick asked as soon as she was conscious again. They were in a small room and he was now standing in front of the chair in which she had been restrained. Slowly, he raked her body with a horrible gleam in his eyes. When Regina refused to answer, he said, “Perhaps you’d rather I tie you to that bed over there and inspect you myself?”

  Swallowing the fear the idea of such a forced violation brought on, she shook her head and quietly told him, “My innocence is intact.”

  Patrick smiled with satisfaction. “Good. For a while there I feared that Guthrie might have ruined you completely. Not that you wouldn’t be worth anything if that’d been the case, but it’s better this way.” He turned away. “I’ll get you some water so you can freshen up. Perhaps you’
re hungry?”

  “No.” She wouldn’t eat anything he gave her. Not willingly at least.

  Patrick went to the door and turned back to face her. “Don’t worry, my lady. You won’t be here very long.”

  Trembling, Regina watched him disappear into the hallway beyond. The door closed and Regina let out the breath she’d been holding while struggling for some sense of calm so she wouldn’t panic. Carlton would come. He had to. She would not think of the fact that he had no clues to go on and that Patrick could have, as far as Carlton knew, taken her anywhere.

  “We’ve got something,” Blayne said as he strode into Carlton’s study. “One of the boys we sent out has come back. Claims he saw a man fitting Patrick’s description shoving a woman into a carriage behind that brothel the magistrate shut down last month.”

  A touch of ice chilled the space between Carlton’s shoulder blades as he recalled the place. When he’d learned what went on there, he’d informed the authorities right away, and thankfully they’d done their job for once so he hadn’t been forced to interfere further.

  Leaning forward, Carlton gripped his armrest so tightly he heard the wood crack. “Did he say where the carriage was headed?”

  “He hitched a ride on the back and followed it to the docks.”

  Carlton was already on his feet. “Let’s round up the men then and head out.”

  Blayne nodded and stepped aside so he could follow Carlton through the door. “The lad brought a hackney back with him. It’s waiting outside and ready to go.”

  Carlton strode forward with increased purpose. Something was finally going right. He’d have to reward the boy later. For now, there was business to attend to – women to be rescued and a traitor to punish. He chose to leave two men behind in case Patrick was foolish enough to return. Three, including Claus, accompanied him and Blayne in the hackney while the rest were asked to make their own way to the docks.

  Carlton’s mood was somewhat dulled though when they arrived and there was no indication of where Patrick and Regina might be. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but some sort of sign would have been nice.