Bancroft chuckled. “Grayson, I cannot help it if your bride is beautiful, clever and a delightful conversationalist. Perhaps you should have married a dullard if you wished to keep her all to yourself. But if it pleases you, we shall move on to the next course and I will speak of nothing but the guinea fowl.” He nodded at Westfield, who signaled the footmen to bring the next course.
Rose smiled reassuringly at Nate, but was taken aback to see the fierce look of protectiveness in his features. He was sending a clear message to his father.
It remained to be seen if the duke would heed it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Rose had asked Mrs. Lyons to show her any spare furniture which Win and Alex might use in their new home. She did not know if Mirabelle would be quite so generous with the castle’s furnishings, but decided that if she selected some of the pieces in the more remote parts of the castle, the duchess would never be the wiser. Mrs. Lyons seemed to agree, for she told Rose of three pieces in the old portrait wing which deserved to find a loving home, instead of being shunted away where no one would see them.
Rose had a feeling Mrs. Lyons did not wholly approve of Mirabelle.
Rose carried a lit candelabra into the portrait wing in search of a sideboard from the late 1600s which Mrs. Lyons said had one leg slightly shorter than the others. It had been banished to the portrait gallery for that deficiency by Nate’s mother. Rose wondered what the late duchess would have thought of her, since she had her own share of deficiencies.
The sideboard was just as beautiful as she imagined it would be, though a tiny bit wobbly. She knew Win would appreciate it, despite the imperfection. Rose remembered seeing a chair in the next corridor which would likely go unmissed. She was about to take another look at it, when she sensed a light behind her.
She knew what it was, even before she turned around. Rose wasn’t surprised in the least to find Charlotte hovering, looking at her with sad eyes. But this time, she did not hold out her hand.
Rose did not know what to do, but decided to speak. “I am sorry for what happened to you. I am sorry for your loss.”
Charlotte looked at Rose, as if she understood. For a moment, Rose thought the duchess would speak, but she did nothing more than stare. Rose didn’t know what the protocol was in a situation like this and she was growing colder by the minute. “I should go,” she said finally, when it appeared that Charlotte had nothing else to show her.
Rose turned, only to find Charlotte in front of her, blocking the way she was about to walk. Yet still the duchess said nothing, nor indicated anything with her hand. She just hovered. Rose tried to carefully walk around her, but the ghost moved to keep in front of her. Rose tried the other way only to have the same thing happen again.
“Is there something I should know?” Rose asked.
This time Charlotte nodded. The action sent chills through Rose’s body.
“Is Nate in danger?” she asked.
The ghost nodded again.
“Is my family in danger when they are in this house?” she asked.
The ghost nodded.
“Am I in danger?”
This, too, made the ghost nod.
“Can you tell me who is behind it?”
Charlotte tried to speak, but instead faded away until she had disappeared altogether.
Rose drew a careful breath. It was all well and good for the castle to have a ghost. But it would be even better if the ghost were just a bit more forthcoming.
Rose was lost in thought as she crossed from the gallery wing back into the newer portion of the castle. What had Charlotte tried to tell her? She wasn’t even certain she believed in spirits, yet she would like to know what this one had meant to say. She thought again about telling Nate, but did not want to chance it. Perhaps Win would have an answer for her. Win would understand.
She hadn’t been paying much attention to where she was walking and her candelabra was little help in the dark corridor, but she had no sooner heard what sounded like a piece of furniture hitting a wall ahead than she vaguely saw two forms quickly rising.
“Hello?” asked Rose, feeling a sense of foreboding. It was odd that she hadn’t been frightened by a ghost, yet now she was on edge with no apparition in sight.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that!” said an obviously irritated Mirabelle as she walked out of the gloom.
There was a movement behind her and Rose could just glimpse the back of a man disappearing into one of the passages in the walls. A man who most definitely wasn’t Bancroft.
Though the light was dim, Rose could see that Mirabelle’s lips were swollen and her hair – usually so meticulously styled – was just the tiniest bit disheveled. Her color was heightened, and a portion of her underskirt was showing.
Mirabelle must have noticed Rose’s perusal of her, for she shook her skirt into place, then advanced. “I do not know what you’re about, sneaking around. But I am quite certain the duke wouldn’t like it.”
“I was not sneaking around. And of all the things the duke wouldn’t like, I am quite certain my walk through the corridor would be rather low on his list.”
Mirabelle narrowed her eyes. “Are you threatening me?”
“Quite the contrary. I am warning you. I believe your husband to be a dangerous man capable of violence. I also know him to be very proud. He would not take lightly to being cuckolded. For your own sake, I would cease any such activities immediately.”
“Are you accusing me of adultery?”
“No, though it is an abhorrent action. No one deserves a straying spouse.”
“Says the woman who is married to one of the most notorious rakes of the ton. How long do you suppose it will be before Nathaniel leaves you here in the country while he pursues his pleasure in London? You’ll not be welcome in the castle when he does. You will have to seek shelter back at the dower house, provided Ridgeway has not been taken off to debtors’ prison. I have never seen such poor excuses for peers in all my life than he and your brother who pretends to be the Earl of Layton.”
“If you say one more word against my family, you’ll regret it.”
“So you are planning to carry tales to Bancroft about something you only think you saw. Take my word for it. He is more likely to shoot the messenger than thank you for it.”
“I am not going to carry tales to Bancroft. But if you say one more word against my family, including my husband, I will knock you on your arse. And that is nothing compared to what I would do if I felt you were threatening my family with harm.”
Mirabelle took one step backward, which gave Rose no small amount of satisfaction. But the duchess’s eyes were filled with cold fury. “You do not know whom you have just threatened.”
“And you have no idea what I will do to defend Nate and the rest of my family. Have a care, Duchess. For I’ll not warn you again.”
With that, Rose turned on her heels and walked back from whence she came, hoping Mirabelle couldn’t tell she was shaking. For while Rose had come across any number of bad people before, she had never been that close to one who seemed truly evil.
* * *
“Oh, Rose, that must have been frightening,” said Win back in their private sitting room after Rose had recounted her story. “I am certain Nate will not like it.”
“I am not sure I should tell him.”
“Tell me what?” asked Nate from the doorway, where Alex was standing with him. “Let me be clear about one thing. You will tell me everything that happens in this house.”
“Even the things you will not like?” asked Rose.
“Especially those,” said Nate as he and Alex took their seats.
As Rose told them about the duchess, Nate grew more and more speculative. When she told him about Mirabelle’s threat to turn her out of the castle, he rose. “I will go tell her in no uncertain terms what will happen if she ever even thinks to threaten you again.”
Rose barely caught him before he left. “No, love, you cannot
.”
“The hell I can’t! She threatened my wife.”
“I also threatened her. Sit down, Nate, please,” she said, trying to move the mountain of man in front of her. “Please.”
“Tell me one good reason why I should not set her straight. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go to Bancroft and tell him what you saw.”
“Because Bancroft would kill her. And while I don’t like the lady, no one deserves that. Plus, I do not know for certain that she was engaged in amorous activities. I only know what I think I saw.”
“I didn’t see anything and I believe it,” said Win. “But I also think Rose is correct. If Mirabelle feels threatened, who knows what she might do?”
“I wonder who the man is,” said Alex.
“I couldn’t see him clearly,” said Rose. “He escaped through one of the passages to the servants’ quarters.”
“Nate, do you believe any of the servants would risk Bancroft’s wrath by cuckolding him?” asked Alex. “It seems like a large risk to take.”
“I find it difficult to believe that anyone in this household would be unacquainted with the duke’s reputation. Simon Chilcott’s death, while officially ruled an accident, should have raised at least some suspicions.”
“If it wasn’t one of the servants, then who was it?” asked Win.
“What about Frederick Mortimer?” asked Rose. “Mirabelle seemed unsettled when he arrived. Win, are you feeling well?”
“Excuse me, I must….” Win ran to her bedchamber, with Alex close behind. Rose entered shortly after they did, only to see her sister be sick into a chamber pot. Alex rubbed her back in a comforting manner while whispering to her.
Rose stepped back, not wishing to intrude. She felt her husband’s arms come around her. “Can we do something to help her?” he asked.
Rose shook her head. “She has everything she needs.” She turned to face Nate. “And so do I.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Mirabelle walked through the halls of the drafty old castle, extremely displeased with the latest turn of events. Not only was she married to an old man in good health, he was also of sound mind. Too sound, for her liking. He was already suspicious enough of her to keep her in the country. And it seemed wherever she went in the castle, Westfield was close at hand. She’d been fortunate to steal a few moments of pleasure the previous day, only to have that mousy wife of Nathaniel’s almost catch her in the act. ‘Struth, if Rose had arrived only five minutes earlier, she would have had a fine show. No doubt she would have run straight to Bancroft. Mirabelle could think of only one reason why she had not done so already and that was to blackmail her.
Well, let her try. Rose had neither the courage nor the intelligence to outwit Mirabelle. Few people did. But the chit could make things uncomfortable for her. She would have to keep a closer eye on her and her relations to ensure none of them got in her way.
Mirabelle was in Grayson’s wing and a chill went through her at the cold. It was a good thing Bancroft had not given her a bedchamber in this wing for she surely would have caught the ague. Caught up in her thoughts, she just barely missed running into a chambermaid.
“Watch yourself, you imbecile!” said Mirabelle.
“I’m so sorry yer grace,” said the young girl, who bobbed a curtsey, almost spilling the contents of the chamber pot she was holding.
“You cretin! Get that away from me!” Then Mirabelle realized what the girl was holding. “Where did you get that? Who was sick?”
“I got it from the marchioness’s bedchamber,” said the clearly frightened maid.
Mirabelle was so shocked, she let the girl scamper off without even a richly deserved clout on the ears. How was it possible for Rose to already be pregnant? They had not yet been married for a week. Of course, God only knew how long they’d been having relations. That would explain why Grayson would marry a woman with no dowry. Indeed, he would end up spending a great deal to bring Ridgeway back to solvency. That meant less money for Mirabelle.
And if Grayson had a son, the boy would inherit the title even if Nathaniel died before assuming it. That meant Mirabelle’s son would have no chance of ever being the duke. So why was she putting up with Bancroft’s rutting if she would not be the future duke’s mother, complete with a lovely fortune? She could just end up with a baby. And who would want one of those?
There was always a chance Nate’s baby could be a girl. But she could not risk it. Nate wasn’t the only one who would have to die. Rose would have to go, too.
* * *
After a long career as a thief, a swindler and an occasional government informant, Frederick Mortimer had grown tired of narrow escapes and keeping track of lies. He hadn’t expected to encounter Alex Lewis at the estate and he’d had to think quickly to avoid being exposed. The presence of Canning and Jones was also unwelcome. But it would all be worth it if it meant he’d finally have the means to start over.
Upon his arrival, he had derived some satisfaction from the new duchess’s look of shock, though she had been careful to hide it from her husband. Frederick knew exactly how dangerous Mirabelle – as she called herself now – could be. Indeed, if Portia hadn’t already been killed, there is every chance her sister Mirabelle would have done it. Or Portia would have killed Mirabelle. It didn’t take much to drive either woman to murder.
He was fully aware that he faced dangers from all sides. Bancroft was ruthless and Jones served as his attack dog. Mirabelle could either turn her husband against him or simply kill him herself for the fun of it, which was one reason why he was pretending to be flattered by her attentions. And Alex Lewis could have him arrested and likely hanged. He had no doubt the former barrister would waste no time in writing to the Home Office to check his story.
Yes, there was no doubt about it. Frederick had to conclude his business as quickly as possible.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Rose’s mind was filled with questions as she made her way to the stables. Nate had decided to search through the basement to see if he could find the passage which might lead to his father’s study. When Rose had said she would accompany him, he had told her it would look too suspicious if the two of them searched the basement. A marchioness would not get dirty and engage in manual labor.
“You should know I am not the typical marchioness,” she’d told her husband. “I have a tendency to get dirty.”
“Love,” said Nate as he’d kissed her, “trust me when I say no one appreciates your love of getting dirty more than I, but we do not want to raise Bancroft’s suspicions any more than they already are. So please keep to our rooms and visit with Win until I get back.”
Then he’d kissed her again and departed.
Rose had gone in search of her sister, only to find her asleep in bed, with Alex sitting nearby looking worried.
So, Rose had decided to make good use of the spring day by going for a ride. But when she reached the stables, she learned her horse Liberty wasn’t available.
“I’m sorry milady,” said the lad who greeted her. “But Liberty is limping on account of stones we found in her shoes. I fear she’s still a bit too tender for a ride today. Mebbe tomorrow.”
“The poor thing,” said Rose. “Please see to her comfort. But I was quite looking forward to an excursion today. Is there another horse I might ride?”
“I dunno, milady. Lord Grayson picked out Liberty particular fer ye. He didn’t say nothin’ about no other horse.”
But Rose would not be deterred from her ride. She needed the exercise and if she and Mirabelle spent too much more time under one roof, blood might be spilled. “There must be another suitable mount,” she said, as she walked through the stables surveying the horses. “What about this one?”
She had stopped into front of a roan mare.
“Mayhap, I should ask his lordship or his grace,” said the groom, who looked doubtful.
“Pray do not trouble either of them. I have ridden my whole life and I promise
I shall keep to the grounds. This beauty does not look like she will give me any trouble.” Rose hoped the lad didn’t know she had overstated her experience just a bit. While she had learned to ride at a young age, she’d had little practice during the last several years because they’d had to sell most of the mounts in the Ridgeway stables. And the few they had kept had been offered to the Babcock family as part of their lease.
As the groom helped her into the saddle, the mare sidled for a moment, but Rose held her steady. A second groom was already mounted and ready to accompany her.
She nodded at him and smiled. “I do not need an escort, as I will not stray from Bancroft lands, but thank you.”
“The estate is large, my lady,” the man said. “And there’s no tellin’ what or who you might run into. Besides, we have orders to make sure you’re always escorted.”
“Who gave the orders? Lord Grayson?”
“No, milady, the Duke of Bancroft.”
The duke wanted her accompanied? Rose did not recognize the groom, but she had only been to the stables on a few occasions and always with Nate, so she had not paid attention to anything other than her husband and the horses. Suddenly, Nate’s warning not to trust anyone came back to her.
“I am not used to having a minder when I am out,” she said.
“I’m sorry milady, but when his grace issues an order, he expects it to be obeyed.”
Rose could hardly refuse since she could only imagine what would happen to the man if Bancroft learned he had been disobedient. And since it was usual practice for a groom to accompany a lone female rider, it would look strange if she insisted on going alone. Besides, she could not imagine this man would harm her in broad daylight after so many servants had seen them together.
Always Forever (Emerson Book 5) Page 14