The Duke's Alliance: A Soldier's Bride

by Fenella J Miller

  'I would prefer to go back to my room, thank you. I had just got up for a call of nature and heard footsteps outside.' This explanation appeared to satisfy and she was allowed to leave without further interrogation. The last thing that was needed at this point was for them to be worrying about her self-inflicted injury.

  Now that she was out of her bedchamber she thought it might be acceptable if she went downstairs in search of something to eat. She had been given a tour of the building and was confident she could find the kitchen. The range was alight, as it should be, and it was comparatively simple to get it burning at full heat again even with only one arm – and this her right hand which wasn't the one she used naturally.

  Mama had always said being left-handed was what had made her contrary. Most young ladies would have been forced to use their right but her parents had been more accommodating and allowed her to continue to be different. Her lips curved as she wondered if Perry had actually noticed.

  The kettle that was used was far too large for her to manage one-handed – what she needed was a small saucepan in which she could put either water or milk. Perhaps hot milk with honey would be beneficial as it should help her to sleep. This task achieved she went in search of something easy to eat with one hand. There was a large plum cake and half-eaten apple pie on one of the slate shelves in the vast larder. A piece of both of these would be ideal with her hot milk.

  Taking them back to her room would be quite impossible so she dragged a chair up to the long table that dominated the kitchen and sat there. She had only ignited two candles, just sufficient for her to see what she was doing. Her hunger satisfied after devouring the cake and pie she drained her cup of milk and was ready to return. Before she could do that she must leave the kitchen in the pristine state she had found it.

  Had the burglar been apprehended yet? There were dozens of male servants employed next door and she was certain they would easily overwhelm the unfortunate intruder. When the room was tidy once more she thought she would pull a chair close to the range and get warm again before venturing into the icy passageways.

  Her damaged hand now hurt so badly she feared she would faint from the pain. With some difficulty she moved the rocking chair, reserved for Cook, close to the range. She rested her outstretched feet on the fender and closed her eyes hoping that by keeping her arm still the agony would subside, thus allowing her to return to her own chamber.

  *

  Perry shuffled forward with his arms outstretched in the direction he hoped would lead him to the exit. He collided with a solid object and stumbled to his knees cursing volubly. He fingered his way around the obstruction and then continued. Eventually his palms touched a wall – all he had to do now was sidle one way or the other and he would come to the door.

  He moved right and had made the correct choice as his groping fingers touched the door frame. He found the knob and turned it. The door didn't budge. It had been locked from the outside – there was no key to turn where he was.

  Once, when confined to his bedchamber for misbehaviour, he had pushed a piece of paper under the door and then managed to dislodge the key from the lock on the other side and pull it under so he could escape. He had been soundly thrashed for his disobedience but secretly thrilled he had managed to get out.

  The problem at the moment was he was unlikely to find any paper in the Stygian darkness. However, he did have his knife so could attempt to dislodge the key, if indeed it was still in the keyhole on the other side, and then pray he could hook it back using the blade.

  He dropped to his knees and began the delicate procedure. The key was there, he could feel it with the end of the blade. He wriggled and pushed and it fell out. Next, he lay on the floor, gripped the knife by the very end of its handle and slowly moved the blade from one side of the door to the other praying that the key had not fallen out of his reach.

  Yes – he could feel it. If he was careful he might be able to somehow wriggle it back under the door and thus be able to free himself. The alternative was climbing back the way he had come in and he doubted he was capable of doing so without falling. On his fourth attempt the key was within his finger's grasp. What he needed was something to hook it and bring it the last few inches.

  His temperature was falling, a strange lethargy was beginning to overcome him. Sitting still and going to sleep would be fatal – he had seen men perish in the bitter cold because they had refused to keep moving. He had no intention of making the same mistake. One more try and then he would wrap himself in the holland covers and march up and down the room until morning and he was rescued.

  Perhaps it would be better to get his blood pumping before he had a last try. He fumbled his way into the centre of the room and for the second time almost went head first when he came in contact with the pile of furniture. The cotton sheets were voluminous and took some effort to remove. When he had folded the two he had managed to extricate, he wrapped them around his shoulders.

  Then he began to walk briskly up and down the space between the window and the furniture. He did this until he was reasonably warm and then returned to the door. He flattened himself and pushed his forefinger beneath the door and just managed to hook the key.

  *

  Beau heard what Aubrey had to say with incredulity. 'Why in God's name would a burglar have chosen to climb into a disused part of the house? Good grief! The place has been empty for months, why did they not come then?'

  'You can ask him when he is captured. Now we are alerted to his presence there is no urgency as he will not get into the main part of the house without being seen. You might as well get dressed – it would not do for the Duke of Silchester to be seen in his nightshirt.'

  'Do not go without me, I am quite looking forward to the experience. As far as I know there has never been a burglary here – no one before has had the temerity.'

  His brother had managed to rouse the butler who had gone back to his bedchamber to dress correctly. He had been told not to bother to wake up any of the footmen as the three of them could deal with one intruder quite easily.

  Aubrey was more or less dressed, there was not a lot of difference between a white, cotton nightshirt and a normal shirt in his opinion.

  'Are you ready, little brother? I think we had better collect pistols from the armoury just in case he has a weapon himself.' This detour took a further fifteen minutes. Then, both of them carrying a lantern, they trekked to the far end of the house and unlocked the communicating door.

  He couldn't restrain his chuckle. 'Look at that, I had forgotten I had told them to lock the rooms but leave the keys in the doors. The wretched man will not be able to get out. All we have to do is creep along the passage and listen for any movement.'

  The third door they stopped at they could hear someone moving inside. Aubrey lowered the light. 'The key is on the floor, I wonder if the varmint was trying to pull it through.' He reached down and inserted it into the lock.

  'Quietly now,' Beau whispered, 'try and turn it without alerting him. You get out your pistol, but put your lamp down. We will only need one – mine.'

  This was done in silence, even the key turned without a sound. He put his hand on the handle and prepared to yank the door open. He did so and they both charged forward. His feet came into contact with something solid and the next thing he knew he was spreadeagled on the floor. The lantern flew from his hand and the candle went out. The air turned blue.

  'Devil take it! Aubrey, Beau, stop kicking me and let me unravel myself.'

  'What the hell are you doing in here? We thought you were a burglar.'

  'I went for a ride and got locked out. That doesn't explain why you two are here – how in God's name did anyone know where I was?'

  Beau rolled to one side away from the melee of arms and legs and, by the faint glimmer of the lantern left on the floor outside, he could just make out Perry who appeared to be wrapped in a shroud. Aubrey scrambled to his feet and heaved his twin upright.

  'It's perishi
ng in here. Here, take my coat, your hands are like blocks of ice.'

  'No, you keep it, I shall be fully recovered once I get somewhere warmer.'

  'I doubt that anywhere is particularly convivial in the middle of the night, Perry, but Peebles can rout out some help and get the fires burning in your apartment. Until then, I have no idea where we will be most comfortable.'

  *

  The three of them met the butler who was holding the greatcoat and other items he had abandoned earlier. They were too cold to be of much use to him. 'I shall be better in my bed. No need to disturb anyone. I am quite capable of making up my own fire. Good night and I apologise for disturbing your rest.'

  Perry marched briskly up and down his sitting room to get his blood flowing freely and once he was sufficiently warm he stripped off his garments and put on his nightshirt and robe. Peebles had insisted on making up both fires and then arrived half an hour later with a tray of coffee and cake.

  He drank the coffee and devoured the cake before thinking about retiring. Tomorrow he would go next door and insist on speaking to his wife. He was concerned that she might have been upset at seeing what she supposed to be a burglar climbing into the house. Then he smiled. Such a thing would be of no moment to her, she was not like any other young lady and he was glad of it.

  There seemed little point in going to bed as it would be dawn soon and he intended to present himself at his brother's door before breakfast. He spent an inordinate time on his appearance and chose an elaborate knot for his neckcloth. His waistcoat was blue silk, as were the lining and collar of his coat.

  Satisfied he was smart enough to plead his case he sat at his escritoire, trimmed a pen and uncorked the ink. Writing down what he wanted to say to Sofia would make it easier when the time came. There might be only the one opportunity to try and persuade her to give him another chance, and he had no wish to make a sad mull of it.

  After an hour the paper was still pristine. He had come up with nothing new to support his case. He could only apologise and pray she would forgive him. There was no excuse for his foolishness, unless being insanely jealous was an acceptable reason.

  The clock had remained stubbornly on six o'clock and refused to move. He could wait no longer. He was going to rouse the household next door and demand to speak to his wife.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sofia was woken by the startled squeal of the kitchen maid who had arrived to begin the preparations for the day. Who was the more surprised by the encounter she could not surmise. Sofia realised she had fallen asleep in the comfortable chair and spent the night in the kitchen.

  'I am so sorry that I startled you. I came down for something to eat and, as you can see, I fell asleep. I shall get out of your way immediately.'

  The girl curtsied. 'Never you mind, my lady, nice and warm it is in here. Shall I make you a lovely jug of chocolate and bring it up for you? I ain't supposed to go above stairs, but I don't reckon Cook will mind this once seeing as it's you.'

  'That would be wonderful. I shall make sure you are not reprimanded for helping me.' Sofia was about to leave when somebody hammered on the kitchen door. She froze – memories of the burglar flooded back. Surely such a person would not bang on the door?

  The maid recovered first and dashed off to investigate. To her astonishment Perry strode in and for the second time that morning she startled someone by her presence in the kitchen.

  'Sweetheart, what in God's name are you doing down here?'

  She was about to answer when his expression changed to one of concern and he was beside her in an instant. 'You have your arm in a sling, you are pale. Let me look at your hand.'

  She flinched away. 'You must not, it is far too painful to be touched. I should have asked for the doctor to be sent for yesterday.'

  Gently he pushed her back into the rocking chair and then carefully removed her injured hand from the sling. She bit back a cry of pain as he folded back the scarf to examine it. His language caused the kitchen maid to gasp.

  'You have dislocated tow of your knuckles. They should have been put back in place immediately. It will be far more painful for you doing it now.'

  His words had scarcely registered when he took hold of her middle fingers and held the rest of her hand steady. Then there was the searing pain and her world went black for a moment. Her scream filled the chamber.

  'I'm sorry to have hurt you so badly, my love, but your hand will be better now things are back in place.'

  Slowly she recovered her breath and was able to speak. She had been going to rail at him for his rough treatment but then she realised he was right. Her hand was no longer agony when she moved it. She scarcely dared to look down for fear of what she would see.

  'I shall carry you back to your room, sweetheart, and then we can talk.'

  Without a by your leave he picked her up and she didn't have the energy to protest. He shouldered his way through the door, past the servants' rooms and into the main part of the house.

  'My room is the third door on the left, Perry.' She should have asked to be put down as she was perfectly capable of walking but being held so close to him, feeling his warmth, his strength, was exactly what she needed.

  He put her into her bed and then busied himself restoring the fires before returning to her side. 'Were you up because your hand was so painful?'

  'I was. Which reminds me – did Aubrey catch the burglar?'

  He explained what had transpired. 'You could have been killed? What were you thinking? You might be the most aggravating of husbands, but you are the only one I have and I do not wish to lose you.'

  His smile curled her toes, then she saw the familiar darkness in his eyes but he did not follow up on his desire and for that she was grateful. She was not ready to be intimate with him – there was still too much bad blood between them.

  'I too could not sleep. I guessed you were having problems with your hand and wanted to see for myself what damage you had done.'

  'I am so ashamed that I punched your brother unnecessarily. If my hand was so badly damaged is not his nose also broken?'

  'He has a magnificent black eye but you have not marred his face.' He pulled up a chair and sat close to her, but not alarmingly so. 'I'm consumed by shame at my reprehensible and unforgivable behaviour. I have absolutely no excuse and will understand if you wish to leave me.'

  'I have not quite decided what I wish to do. If the ceremony could be set aside, then we could start afresh – get to know each other better before...' She blushed, not able to mention what she had been thinking.

  'I am floundering, sweetheart. You just told me you did not wish to lose me and yet you are asking to have the marriage broken. I love you, I shall never marry another, but will do whatever you want.'

  'I love you too. I have not explained myself properly. I would like to be married in our own church with your family and mine present. I was just suggesting we could pretend we were courting, and then we can put everything behind us and start again.'

  'We don't have to do anything about the ceremony in Spain as we can just ignore it. The family will be together here for the Christmas festivities, that will be the perfect time to have a second ceremony.' His eyes blazed and she caught her breath.

  He jumped to his feet before she could respond and moved rapidly to the door. 'That being the case, my darling, I should not be in your bedchamber. I shall appear mid-morning to take you for a drive as I think that is the correct procedure for a courting couple.'

  'Will I not have to remain indoors until the doctor has visited?'

  'Your hand will be stiff and sore for a few days but you no longer need the attentions of a physician. I have set dislocated limbs on several occasions and he would have done nothing different.'

  'I shall need bride clothes – it seems wrong to be asking you to pay for them in the circumstances.'

  'Be damned to the circumstances. You order whatever you want, will four weeks be sufficient time for you?'

 
; 'My lord, if I am to marry you a second time then I insist that you moderate your language.'

  He grinned making him look years younger. 'Coming it too brown, madam, you must have heard far worse when you were riding with the partisans.'

  'I did, but somehow improper language spoken in Spanish does not sound half as bad.'

  He raised a hand and disappeared, she could hear him laughing to himself outside the door. Then another voice, very similar to his, spoke.

  'What the devil are you doing wandering about my house at this time of the morning?' Aubrey had been woken by Perry's laughter.

  'I am going, brother, I have been speaking to my wife. She will explain it all to you at a more civilised time.'

  There was a hesitant tap on her door and her brother-in-law spoke from outside. 'Are you well, Sofia?'

  'I'm absolutely splendid, thank you, Aubrey. I apologise if we woke you. I shall speak to you at breakfast.'

  *

  Perry bounded down the stairs and back through the kitchen where the helpful kitchen maid was about to carry up the tray. He waved nonchalantly and left the same way he had come in. He was tempted to wake up his older brother but thought this might not be appreciated.

  Zorro pressed his cold nose into his hand and whined. 'I know, your mistress is living in one place and I am in another but all will be well soon.' He patted the dog and walked around to the side door which was now unbolted. The house was coming alive, there were several maids, sacks tied around their waists, busily scrubbing the floor. He negotiated their buckets and cloths and made his way to the study.

  Peebles had anticipated his actions and the fire was lit and candles burning everywhere. He had scarcely settled in front of the fire with a newspaper when a footman arrived with a tray. Exactly what he wanted. He was drinking coffee and eating sweet rolls at exactly the same time as Sofia. They were not together in person but they were still sharing a meal.

  If they were to arrange a second wedding there were invitations to send out, but perhaps it would be best in the circumstances for it to remain a family affair as there were more than enough of them to make a jolly party. It was not the accepted behaviour to bring one's children to a house party but obviously the family would be doing so. This meant that not only would it not be a quiet event but the guests that had been obliged to abandon their children over the festive period would be made to feel guilty.