Once Upon a Duke

by Sandra Masters

  The groomsman saw the clenched fists, recognized the anger, and was quick to say, “It is not as you imagine.”

  Emma intervened. “My lord Duke, please hear us out. I bear important messages from my mistress. We have Adonis with us. John has risked much to help me get to you. It is he who helped save the pup.”

  “I could not speak to you the day you left, Sir Henry watched me.” John spoke in wariness of the Duke’s fists.

  Geoffrey stared at the basket, the blanket wriggled. He stepped forward and removed the cover and up popped Adonis. His heart leapt at the sight of the beloved animal. Adonis barked and licked his hand, then hopped out to greet his master, and headed straight for his boot.

  “No, Adonis.” Geoffrey smiled, happy to be able to admonish the pup. “So you did not drown the dog? I am grateful. Tell me with honesty, who told you to kill the dog?”

  “It was Sir Henry, your Grace. As soon as the carriage departed with Lady Serena and Emma, he came to the stable, told me to take the dog to the lake and hold it under the water until it was lifeless. I took the pup, said I’d do as I’d been instructed. ’Course I did as Lady Serena directed and went straight to my house and hid Adonis in the outer room.”

  Henry didn’t tell the truth when he said she wanted the puppy dead. If he lied about this, what else could be untrue? “John, do you always disobey a given instruction?”

  “No, lord Duke, but my conscience argued Lady Serena wanted the pup saved to deliver to you. She gave me the first instruction. The second one from Sir Henry contradicted so I assumed the intent must be to get the dog gone from his sight.” John smiled. “Perhaps you could say I complied with both? Lady Serena begged I find a way to get Adonis to you.”

  “Begged?”

  The groom nodded.

  Geoffrey doubted further that what Sir Henry told him about Serena and her impending marriage was true. But again, maybe she did not want the dog killed. That redeemed her in his eyes.

  He took a short breath. “Lady Serena had tears in her eyes, your Grace.”

  “Tears, you say?” Geoffrey’s exhaled, his lips taciturn.

  “Come in. I misread the situation.” He grinned. “John, you came close to being battered.”

  “I’m aware, your Grace.”

  “Emma. Greetings. It is good to see you again.”

  “And you, your Grace.” She curtsied.

  “I did not intend to ignore you. Both of you sit.” Geoffrey motioned to two chairs in front of his desk. Anxiousness crept over him like a cage.

  John crouched on the floor holding Adonis.

  A quiet moment hung in the room. Anxiety spurted through Lord Geoffrey. “Emma, why have you come?”

  “Your Grace, John and I arranged to visit in Portsmouth village every two days so we could speak as sweethearts, and to plan a way for my mistress and I to escape. He agreed to wait for me in the hope that I would come. The Cook has been my chaperone when we go to the village. We have been on the road almost three hours. She gave me permission to visit my sick father, but I have to be back within four hours or I will be chastised, and my long absence will appear suspicious.”

  “I am sorry your father is ill.”

  “Your Grace, my father is in good health. It was an excuse to gain time.”

  “Clever of you, Emma. Neville said you have a message from Lady Serena. What is it?” Geoffrey’s emotions swarmed like a desert sand storm. The sound of his heartbeats pounded his temples to pulp.

  “She is a prisoner at the fortress and does not wish to marry Lord LeBran.”

  “Henry informed me otherwise.”

  “It was a lie. I know of my mistress’s affection for you. She is a good woman and does not engage in falsehoods. She lives in fear every moment of Lord LeBran. He mistreats her and her salvation is prayer and thoughts of you. This, I know is true.”

  “When LeBran learns of her scars, he will not want her. He is a shallow, superficial…” He held his breath, “man.” As to the last word, other profane words came to mind.

  “He knows already, your Grace. Sir Henry told him.”

  Geoffrey stood. “Serena told me her brother did not know about her abuse.”

  “My lord Duke, my mistress and Sir Henry spoke harsh words when he told her he signed the betrothal papers.” She repeated the conversation of the event, and how Serena had exposed her wounds.

  The maid reached into her bag and handed Geoffrey a letter.

  He tore open the envelope, his hand shaking.

  April 29, 1817

  My Dearest Geoffrey:

  I need you to know how much I treasured our time together. You brought joy and happiness into my loveless life. By your actions, you showed me there can be goodness and decency in a man—and that there are men who will treat a woman with gentleness and yet still are passionate.

  In my mind, you took me to places I could only read about. In our all-too-short days and nights together, you gave me magical memories to last a lifetime that no one can take from me.

  Please know that you will always be in my heart, dreams, and every thought for however long I live.

  My brother has treated me with malice, and I did not know about his plans for this arranged marriage. I was whisked away before I could get word to you, and kept prisoner ever since. LeBran is a cruel and ruthless man with no conscience. I have disliked him from the moment we met and the thought of becoming his wife, and suffering his touch reviles me.

  I have vowed not to marry him even though Henry signed the betrothal papers.

  This fortress is a strong cold place but it shall not imprison my body or spirit.

  You have spoiled me for any other man. I pray in earnest for deliverance and to find a rescue from this peril, but please know that wherever you go, I will always be with you—in this world or the next. You are, and have been, the only man I’ve ever loved.

  Give Adonis a kiss for me. I miss him, too.

  Good bye, my love,

  Yours always,

  Serena

  He turned his back, his hand went to his temple, his heart slammed. Damn Henry’s scheming lies. He would make him pay dearly for his unconscionable actions. It would be a pleasure.

  “Have you seen the contents of this letter?” Geoffrey inquired of Emma.

  “No, your Grace. I waited for my mistress to finish it.”

  He held the letter in his hand, paused, and reread Serena’s words. His forehead furrowed.

  Emma reached in her large reticule and retrieved a sketchbook. “My mistress plotted to get her artist’s supplies back so I could bring them to you. John had to retrieve them from her studio during the night. There wasn’t enough time to take them since we had to leave Portsmouth village in haste. With your leave, will your butler bring in the portrait we left in your hall?”

  He called for Neville who waited outside the open door. “Bring the portrait.”

  His majordomo returned and held it up for display.

  She hadn’t burned it! Henry had lied. What sweet misery. He grasped the canvas she had set in oil, and then noticed the sealed envelope on the back.

  Another letter from Serena. She did care for him.

  Geoffrey ripped it open, noted it dated back to the day he first left, and read:

  March 21, 1817

  Dearest Geoffrey,

  I write this because you are gone. Lust is sinful—and wonderful. All of me, body and soul ache for you. I was a good and chaste woman, and then I met you. Stolen moments and passionate lovemaking were my downfall.

  There are always consequences for impure deeds, I learned. But would I do it all again?

  Yes!

  For every woman should experience passion and lust once in a lifetime with a man who can make the sun shine, the moon glow, the flowers bloom and the birds sing with the wondrous touch of his lips.

  I love you, Geoffrey.

  Your Wanton Sultana

  “Lady Serena plotted to escape en route to the fortress in some m
anner, but LeBran refused to allow us a brief ‘necessary’ stop. If she was successful, we would travel to my cousin’s home, hide, and then hire a coach to London, obtain her money, and locate you. This is the honest truth.”

  Geoffrey reread her letter, his hand at his pulsing temple.

  Emma looked him in the eye. “May I show you something, your Grace?”

  “Yes, of course, Emma.”

  She showed him a sketch Serena had drawn. Geoffrey on one side and Serena on the other with the cursive note, When will you propose to me? I want to marry you. There can never be anyone after you. It depicted Adonis sketched in between the two of them, each of their hands on his head.

  Geoffrey cursed under his breath. How could he have doubted Serena’s genuine affection?

  The pierce of a hundred arrows directed at him stung. The ominous task ahead would require thoughtful planning. He would wage war to get back what had always been his—Serena.

  Secure in the knowledge she loved him, he sat, head in his hands. Nothing would stop him from seeing her safe. Their happiness depended on it.

  His mind raced with a thousand thoughts. He took control of his senses. “Where in the fortress is she held?”

  Emma told him they were on the third floor, how the three rooms were laid out with only one entrance, and he wrote all the information on a parchment stack. “Tell me all you know. How many guards? When does the house retire? How many servants? Where do they sleep? Where are her quarters? Where are his quarters? Where is the entrance to the kitchen located?”

  Geoffrey looked into Emma’s eyes. “Perhaps my next question is insensitive, but I need to know. Has he bedded her?”

  Emma blushed, shook her head and lowered her eyelids. “He has told her he will not force her until they are married.”

  She paused. “He speaks foul words which I can’t repeat.” Her hand went to her lips. “My mistress spends too much time on the parapet overlooking the water. It is part of the tower wall beyond my room. I know she thinks to throw herself into the sea when the day comes. I saw her charting the incoming and outgoing tides.” She stopped to catch her breath. “My lady hopes you might be able to get architectural drawings of the fortress. She spelled it for me on this note. She spent time in the library studying the fortifications. There are two volumes about the castle.” Emma retrieved the paper from her bodice.

  He read its contents.

  “It is a Henrican fort. You may wish to study the…” she hesitated in recall—“glacis and caponnier. Not familiar with the French words, I practiced all the way here. They are listed on the note.”

  “Serena is held captive? Yet you are allowed to come and go.”

  “I go to the local market every day to shop. The servants are pleasant enough and now I assist in the kitchen. On each second day, I look to meet John at the market stalls. While they watch me, they do not care for their master. I can take small leeway.”

  Emma fussed with her reticule. “Your Grace, you should be aware that Lord LeBran speaks to my mistress with such animosity. He threatens her. She prays in the chapel, but there are times he torments her even in the holy place.” Emma recounted how they’d stowed her most precious belongings.

  “So you are forced to work in the kitchen also?”

  “Yes, my lord Duke, but it is a good thing. I learn much and report back to my mistress.”

  “Emma, you are loyal to your lady.”

  “I want to see her happy, your Grace. You make her smile.”

  John looked at his pocket watch. “We have to leave, your Grace. Emma will be questioned if we don’t return soon.

  “Ah, Serena,” he said. “I am to rescue you from an armed historical fortress and fight my way up to the top floor and whisk you away to marry me.” He shook his head. It would not be an easy feat. It appeared impossible. “Yet…”

  Anger raged in his lungs, furious that Serena was subjected to such harsh treatment once again. His mind sharpened. There would be a time for retaliation. He vowed to punish LeBran and Henry for what they’d done.

  “Tell Lady Serena to prepare either for our marriage or my funeral. Tell her I love her more than life. It is the most important part of my message. Ask her to wait for me. Now, go. Thank you for bringing me Adonis, the sketch and portrait. You have given me comfort—and consternation. I will find a way to rescue the lady I love or die doing it. Either way, she will be free.”

  Geoffrey reached into his desk and took out two sovereign coins and handed it to them. “One for each of you. Thank you for all you did—and did not do.”

  The sheaf of papers with important information rested on top of his desk. “There is much I need to plan for and my friends might help me. John, can you return here in two days so I can transmit a message to my lady?”

  “I will find a way, your Grace.”

  Geoffrey addressed the man. “I would have you work for me on my estate if you so desire. I will assign you position of Head Groom. You should be able to marry Emma on the wages. Let me know how I can reach you at your home.”

  John gave him the requested information and Lord Geoffrey added it to the list.

  “I may need you sooner than later. As of this moment, I have retained you, however, I need to know when Sir Henry leaves the estate for any trip. If I am not here, give the details to Neville.”

  The groomsman nodded.

  “Go, but be careful. I wish you a safe trip home.”

  “Emma? Your sick father feels so much better. Thank you, again.” He chuckled.

  The groomsman nodded. Emma and John left.

  It hit Geoffrey like a velvet fist, a hook through the heart, the yearning to hold her in his arms again. He loved her—plain and simple. How could he have doubted her true feelings? There was much he had to make up to her for not trusting in her love for him.

  The one woman he could not live without.

  It was Henry who wished to play him for a fool. His mind recalled Henry’s comment, need for a political alliance. His strained relationship with Henry could not compare to his strong friendship with Lord Carleton, a childhood friend, and the other members of the Sacred Order of Mortal Saints, the espionage organization to which they belonged. He raised his right hand to his chin, and considered all that had happened.

  His head pounded like rippling thunder. Fear of losing her again slithered through him, his throat parched. His mind mixed fear with hope.

  Geoffrey’s palms were clammy, his fingers taut and stretched. Perspiration trickled down his neck. He could envision a future with Serena. He wanted to walk again into the light with her. Serena could be wed to another man soon. The alternative horrified him. She must not kill herself. He would move heaven and earth to save her.

  What if he could not gather the Saints’ members to find her in time? He remembered the rumor that LeBran had poisoned his late wife. What if the demon decided to kill her after he got hold of her money?

  Henry was the deceitful culprit. Geoffrey vowed revenge.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Lord Geoffrey left his house headed for White’s Club, the notes in his breast pocket. He saw his friends who were secret members of the Saints, through the window, sitting at one of the larger tables. He entered. The wager book lay in front of them.

  “Come bet with us?” one friend asked.

  “No, I cannot.” He scanned the room, his eyebrows arched in warning. “I have critical news, and I have urgent need of your skills. My life depends on your help. Since you are my true friends, I warn you there is imminent danger. It cannot be overheard. Come with me to my home.”

  The seven men left with him, and scurried down the street to his town house.

  Neville held the door open as the gentlemen filed inside. He pointed to Lord Geoffrey’s study. Their hats, gloves and canes were placed on the side table.

  “My lords, I will bring cognac in a moment.” Neville nodded to the footman as the doors were closed. “Fetch me three decanters and sufficient glasses.
”

  The footman rushed to the liquor cabinet.

  In his paneled study, Lord Geoffrey spoke in a fervent tone. “First, I will tell you I have fallen in love with a beautiful lady and I intend to offer her a marriage proposal.”

  All his friends laughed and sought to congratulate him.

  Geoffrey outlined Serena’s circumstances. “I say in all truth, it is an impossible rescue, but perhaps not for the Saints.”

  Neville entered the room and filled the Waterford glasses with the amber liquor.

  “In seven days’ time, my lady is to be forced into marriage with Lord Leland LeBran, a man she does not love. She has told her maid that, if so, she will throw herself into the sea before completing the nuptials.”

  “Good God, Geoffrey, this information has been verified? Do you have proof?” Lord Carleton asked in disbelief.

  Geoffrey offered a sly smile. “I would ask each of you to help me as you know I would do for you.” He methodically related the entire incidents from when Emma and her intended groom returned the pup, Serena’s letters, sketchbook and portrait. Geoffrey searched their faces. Each of the men remained serious, lips taciturn, determined.

  Lord Carleton spoke first, “Count on me.”

  Geoffrey cleared his throat and continued, “Our skills in weaponry are well-known. I propose we storm the keep and rescue her. I have dispatched letters to the magistrate to secure a waiver for marriage. The documents should arrive by hand tomorrow. There is an abbey near Brighton where if I survive, we will marry.”

  He shot questions at them as he paced, his hands behind his back. “Do we know anyone who comes from the Portsmouth area who has knowledge about the fortress? Can we get architects’ drawings? Do we approach by sea or by land? If by sea, do we commandeer a schooner?” Geoffrey explored their eyes.

  The room grew quiet. Lord Cedric, pushed the toe of his boot against the hearth. “Well, Geoffrey, you do not do things in a small way, do you?” He took a hefty drink of the liquor. “I have a cousin who taught at the Naval Academy there. He lives nearby and I can find out what he knows. I’m in.”

  All were young men in their thirties, unattached, so to speak, except for a mistress or two, and each friend pledged to help. Their loyalty touched Geoffrey.