The Duchess and the Duelist (Friendship Series Book 4)

by Julia Donner

  “Most assuredly, my lord. I’m curious, nothing was said at the ceremony that alluded to her background?”

  “Only a hint, a comment that inferred that she married well for her station. Mrs. Merrick recently told me that her parents fled France. How did you come to know the family?”

  “Her father assisted me with a personal matter and insisted that I should not feel an obligation. Nevertheless, due to his assistance, I became indebted in way that can never be repaid. It was my privilege to help his daughter.”

  “She was with child when she came to you for assistance?”

  “Yes. We presented the problem to Lady Asterly. At that time, she was Mrs. Shelton, some years before she married the baron. You know her ladyship. She will turn away no one in need. The situation was quite desperate.”

  “The son was born here?”

  “No, my lord. There was another friend of her father’s in Scotland. Up near the Tayside. She delivered the child there, stayed until she was recovered, and left the child with them.”

  A heavy weight settled in Freddy’s chest. “How difficult that must have been for someone like her.”

  “Indeed, my lord. Many mothers of her situation are inclined to hand off the child to the nurse. Mrs. Merrick had no other family alive. She was a late-in-life child. Her parents passed on. She had no one, but she had married well. Then to lose that connection so unexpectedly and be forced to live separately from her son. The uncle is the worst sort. Quite cunning and evil.”

  “You’ve seen him?”

  “His minions. He’s been hunting her for years.”

  “Didn’t the uncle suspect that she had flown to family friends?”

  “Certainly. They took the babe to France then Italy. Mrs. Merrick paid for their living and then the tutors.”

  “Bloody expensive. How could she afford that?”

  “Mrs. Merrick’s father left her uncut gems. I arranged to sell them. Discreetly, of course, but I suspect that is how the uncle came to discover her here. He’s not one to tolerate being thwarted and wants the lad. From all I’ve heard, he won’t stop until he has the young duke in his grasp and the duchess imprisoned.”

  Freddy looked at Crimm. “I plan to eviscerate the uncle. Will you help me?”

  Crimm’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  Chapter 19

  Evangeline looked overhead at the cathedral’s arched buttresses, grateful for the distraction of architectural grandeur. She missed going to Catholic mass and hadn’t gone in years, knowing Archibald would have those churches watched. She’d said three rosaries and tucked the beads back into her reticule, which sat with a hymnal beside her on the pew’s seat. The crucifix at the end of the rosary peeked from the unclasped reticule.

  She couldn’t concentrate on the homily. Unrelenting worry scattered images in her mind. The only thing that soothed was the music, the majestic swell and rumble of the pipe organ, the sweet voices of the boys singing, and most of all, Olivia’s lush alto in her right ear.

  At seminary, her friend’s astonishing talent garnered envy and resentment. It didn’t matter that her father was a bishop and her grandfather a duke. Girls taunted her, saying so unattractive a child would never see the inside of the receiving rooms of the ton. They told her such a voice was wasted on homely Olivia Mainstay. No one would invite a homely, over-weight lump to balls and come-out parties.

  The memory lifted a corner of Evangeline’s mouth into a half-smile. No one expected plain, plump Olivia Mainstay to grow into a fine-looking woman or that she would enslave the most admired gentleman in England. An entire nation of female sensibilities and hopes had been crushed when Handsome Harry married, while heads shook at the unusual pairing, wild Sir Harry and staid widow.

  Pride for her friend bloomed again in Evangeline’s heart. Dear Ollie had grown into her strong features to become a striking woman with a figure that caught every man’s eye. But Olivia had no time for anyone but her Harry, and he, her.

  It had surprised Evangeline earlier, when Olivia sat beside her on the couch, rather than going to her husband. They invariably sat or stood with shoulders touching, fingers entwined. It had little to do with their newlywed state. They would always stay close and thrive on their connection. As a couple, they complimented and fulfilled each other.

  How wonderful to have that kind of friendship with one’s lover and spouse. A queer, little ache made her breath catch. This time, she pinched her lips together to suppress a smile, so inappropriate when coupled with the sermon’s severe topic. Her happiness for Olivia and Harry outweighed her envy.

  A twinge of guilt reminded Evangeline to pay attention to the service. She closed her eyes to concentrate, bowed to say prayers for Ned, but was interrupted by a familiar presence. His warmth invaded the empty place in the pew. Her left arm tingled when Lord Grieves slid closer.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw his gloved hand splayed on the smooth, wooden seat. She set down her prayer book near his hand and spread her fingers over its leather cover.

  Turning her head a bit to peek, she saw Grieves look straight ahead at the priest, preaching on high from the pulpit. From under lowered lashes, she watched him inch his hand closer to hers. He slowly withdrew her prayer book from under her loose grasp. After sliding the book out of the way, he spread his fingers wider to touch, then entwine with hers.

  Her heart hitched and vision blurred when he encompassed her hand within his. His thumb rubbed one side of her wrist. Liquid warmth spread throughout her chest, soothing her fear-frozen soul.

  When she looked across, expecting to find the usual sardonic gleam in his eyes, it wasn’t there. Sharp sapphire had gentled to placid blue. He whispered, “I decided that I needed your company and God’s more. Letters can wait.”

  More than anything, she wished she could lean across the discreet space that separated them and rest against the solid comfort of his arm. Instead, she turned her hand under his loose clasp so their gloved palms joined. His fingers tightened, sealing the connection.

  Under the hem of her gown, she felt Olivia’s slipper tap against the side of her shoe, a surreptitious message that took her back to the secrets they’d shared at school. The pressure of Olivia’s foot never wavered, a silent message of happy understanding about Grieves, and a signal that she would stand her friend no matter what came.

  Evangeline pinched her lips into a tight line to contain swelling emotions and rapidly blinked her eyes to hide the burn of tears. The feeling of grateful unworthiness suffused her heart for the rest of the service. Grieves never released her hand until reluctantly forced to do so when it was time to leave.

  A footman in Asterly House livery waited on the steps outside the church. He handed Evangeline a note, and murmured, “His lordship said there was no reason to interrupt the service to give you this.”

  Disappointed by the underlying message of those words, Evangeline broke the seal and scanned the two sentences. She felt the trio of eyes watching her, waiting for news. She’d been alone for so long with her struggles that she still couldn’t comprehend their support.

  When Olivia touched her wrist, Evangeline looked up and said, “His lordship has received word that my brother-in-law refuses to comply. Asterly is bringing pressure to bear.”

  Olivia’s arm came around her shoulders. “Come along. It’s not too cold for a drive around the park. The fresh air will help clear our minds and prepare us for the battle ahead.”

  Evangeline felt everyone watching as she tucked the note into her reticule. “Yes. And good for the appetite. It is fortunate that we have Sir Harry’s landau.”

  She tried not to think about the strained note in her tone as she smiled at Grieves and accepted his escort down the church steps. Harry ordered the landau’s bonnet folded back. The ladies were given the forward seats. As they rolled away from the church, Evangeline wished that Grieves sat by her side, but Olivia snuggled close and held her hand in an unyielding grip that renewed the urge to cry
.

  Where was her Ned?

  Chapter 20

  Luncheon was a somber affair. Evangeline spent the entire time rearranging the food on her plate and refusing offers for replacement. Crimm had surprised her by taking away the wine and having a cup of steaming chocolate set by her plate. Evangeline whispered her thanks and enjoyed the sweet aroma and steamy heat that warmed the chill of constant fear.

  It hadn’t helped that Grieves immediately begged to be excused when they returned to Cavendish, by reason of needing to attend to neglected business and correspondence. Guilt added to increasing worry. Her problems had taken much of his attention during an exacting period for him. Inheriting a title with all its responsibilities was not a simple operation. Edward had a number of titles at birth and became Havardshire not long after their marriage. His father, ill at the time of their engagement, had insisted that the ceremony take place while he lived. It wasn’t until after the wedding that Edward explained the reasons for haste.

  After hearing the family secret, she understood why her flesh shrank every time she looked at Edward’s uncle. The one time she’d had to shake his hand caused her to involuntarily clutch at her skirt to rub off the offensive sensation of connecting with his flesh. The explanation made clear why Edward’s father, over his brother’s strong objections, agreed to his son’s marriage to a penniless girl with no social standing and only a modest dowry. The duke had recognized that she had the backbone to stand with her husband against the revolting uncle.

  She finished the chocolate, realizing that she no longer felt like shrinking away from Archibald. The idea of skewering his filthy hand to the wall presented a more attractive solution. But only after she’d beaten the whereabouts of her child out of him.

  Fear washed through her again, banishing the outrage. She flinched when a footman entered the breakfast room. He silently went to the end of the table where Asterly sat and extended a silver tray. Asterly set down his cup, slid the note and letter knife from the tray. He broke the seal, returned the letter opener to the tray and waited for the footman to leave.

  Evangeline swallowed when Asterly looked up at her. “He’ll be here in two hours. Your son will not be with him. Do you want me to send for Grieves?”

  “Yes, please.”

  The tears that had gathered fell. She quickly wiped them away while the gentlemen quietly stood. Olivia linked elbows as they left the mostly untouched meal behind. They followed Crimm to a receiving room by the front entrance. The thought that it was an odd choice of rooms flitted through her numb thoughts, then she realized the relevance. This was the room where lesser visitors were received—those individuals not quite up to Crimm’s standards.

  A smile twitched Evangeline’s lips. As horrific as this entire episode was, she would always remember the small kindnesses, the tiny works that told her how much others cared.

  They attempted to engage in conversation. After a few minutes of stilted, pointless exchanges, they waited in silence. They looked at the closed door when voices sounded in the foyer. Evangeline crushed Olivia’s hand, then released a puff of pent-up air when Grieves came through.

  Coming immediately to the settee, Grieves knelt and took both her hands in his. “Are you prepared for this?”

  She tried to make her smile encouraging, but her lips wouldn’t work. “Thank you for coming, Grieves. I shall be fine as soon as I know where Ned is.”

  He nodded. “Not to worry. Between the three of us, we’ll bully the whereabouts out of Havardshire.”

  With a sadness she didn’t understand, she whispered, “My Ned is Havardshire.”

  In that moment, when Olivia again pressed her foot against hers under their skirt hems, Evangeline resolved to remain strong. Sir Harry placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, while Asterly watched her with solemn concern. Still kneeling, Grieves looked up with love in his gaze. The gentle light left his eyes when the front door knocker sounded.

  Chapter 21

  Lord Archibald’s light brown hair, so like Edward’s, had thinned considerably. He had the elegant, upright posture inherent in persons born into an elevated station and with every advantage. The family resemblance to Edward constricted her heart—the same pale complexion, wide brow and small mouth, but where Edward’s personality glowed from sweetness of character and self-conscious hesitancy, his uncle projected a chill of disdain for the world and its inhabitants.

  Crimm said from the doorway, “You have a visitor, my lord.”

  No announcement of identity or title. The slight didn’t go unnoticed, Evangeline noted with an inner smirk. She could actually feel the hatred glittering in the stare she leveled on Lord Archibald, who ignored her to flick an imperious glance at Crimm’s subtle insult.

  Asterly extended his hand to Evangeline, gesturing for her to join him in front of the fireplace. Grieves assisted her to stand and flanked her other side. No one bowed or curtsied to the visitor.

  Asterly said, “Lord Archibald, may I suggest that we dispense with pleasantries and make this interview as uncomplicated as possible. Her Grace wishes to have her son brought here.”

  Lord Archibald, who still held his hat, took another step into the room. The picture of languid grace and calm diffidence, he replied, “Good day to you, my lords.” He nodded a bow to Olivia. “Lady Collyns, I believe.”

  Olivia said nothing. Her brown eyes, darkened by emotion, maintained a lethal stare, an aspect Evangeline had never before seen on her friend’s face. Perhaps she imagined what would happen if the child she carried were under the complete control of this man.

  Lord Archibald’s gaze flicked back to Evangeline. When no introductions were offered, the hint of a familiar smirk formed on his lips. Evangeline’s temper stirred but stayed held in check. How she longed to slap the contempt from his face. Her thoughts must have shown. Grieves touched her hand. His fingers encircled her wrist.

  The subtle forewarning was noted by Lord Archibald, whose lips twisted in an all-out sneer. “Still under the control of ill-bred passions, Evangeline? How unfortunate.”

  Evangeline reined in the impulse to retaliate. She knew from past experience that he enjoyed prodding her. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. When Edward was alive, she’d reacted to Archibald’s incessant attempts to provoke her temper in front of others. She saw no reason to accept his attempts to humiliate to the point where she would predictably respond. It had been the ammunition he sought to prove his opinion and make her look foolish, then and now. Before Ned’s birth, she hadn’t cared what Archibald or anyone thought about her and made her scorn and revulsion of Archibald public and frequent. Her defiance had fired Archibald’s enmity.

  With Edward’s sudden death came hard reality, the understanding that Archibald would become the trustee of the child she carried and in control of her livelihood. Intuition warned her that Archibald desired her child for more than retaliation or a plaything; he wanted a son, after failing with two wives to father any children of his own. Although she told no one about the heir she carried, she realized that her disappearance would create suspicion.

  Protecting her child became her life. She couldn’t think about what would happen to her baby in Archibald’s control. Only for a while had she prayed for a girl. She foolishly thought he’d have no interest in a female. Then she began to understand that he would take a girl baby out of spite, for the joy of making her suffer.

  She never would have understood Archibald’s character without Edward’s unvarnished honesty. She’d never known such sins existed. His perversions and behaviors were unthinkable. She eventually came to think that his evil intentions for the child she carried must have entered her head from divine intervention. His actions were incomprehensible to any right-thinking person, but because of his rank, no one would help save her child from a family trustee.

  Her voice sounded unfamiliar when she demanded, “Archibald, you will deliver my son to me today.”

  Making his boredom and disintere
st apparent in his tone, Lord Archibald replied, “I regret that the duke is not in the city. We have moved him to a safe location.”

  A small squirm of doubt altered her tone. “Safe? I have expressly told him to never go anywhere with you.”

  “Then why did he write to me?”

  She faltered. “Ned wrote to you?”

  “It is only natural that he should seek information about family connections. He’s been made aware of your transgressions.”

  “I don’t believe you, Archibald. He’s been expressly warned to never contact you.”

  “You admit to poisoning his mind. And in front of so many witnesses. You make things so much easier, Evangeline.”

  Asterly advanced a step. “Easy? What do you mean by that?”

  Lord Archibald smiled with the sympathy he’d use for a dimwit. “There are any number of infractions. I shall only need a few of the many to heap justifiable retribution on her disloyal head.”

  Sir Harry put an arm around his wife’s shoulders as he said, “Don’t expect any of us to support your claims.”

  Lord Archibald dipped his head in a bow. “So be it. I have retainers to handle the sordid affairs. I expect their efforts will promote an arrest before the week is out. In the meantime, I shall explain in more detail to young Edward how grievously he’s been used by his mentally deranged mother. He’s never heard my side of things.”

  A fine quivering overtook her body. “You cannot ruin my son. He is nothing like you and everything like his father.”

  “More’s the pity. My brother’s soft head and heart brought the family to the edge of social ruin. We had decided upon the perfect parti until you bewitched Edward and his father. It shouldn’t take long to repair the damage. The boy adores the horse I brought from the estate farm. He was quite shocked to hear that he was in possession of a stable lined with the finest cattle, all waiting for him. And that he’s been deprived, condemned, actually, to a life of penury merely due to your ridiculous notions. And really, a young man of his esteemed station, living in the company of nothing more than a tutor, totally without guardianship? How is he to learn of his responsibilities? No valet, none of the common necessities of life? That is at an end. While you are incarcerated for the rest of your days, I shall teach him exactly how he should go on.”