“Nowhere, My Lady,” Faith replied, glancing behind them. “He’s the type of gentleman who will stop at nothing to get his way.”
“You picked up on that, as well?” Selina murmured. Overhead, there was a flock of birds. She watched them as they dipped and then rose, as one. A cool breeze blew, causing her to shiver. Clouds were slowly moving in front of the sun, gathering like harbingers.
Faith sighed as though she were world-weary. “Hard not to, My Lady. I suppose we all have our own foibles. The Duke’s is that he doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“You’re right,” Selina replied. “It means that we’ll have to move on, won’t we?”
“It’s probably for the best, My Lady.”
“I’ll write to my brother. See if we can go to the Lakes District, as well,” she said, making her plans. She wasn’t in the mood to go to her parents in Paris. The city in springtime was too bright, happy. The Lakes District would be a little more circumspect. “After all, I can’t steal the groom. I’d never be allowed to come back.”
“It’s for the best,” Faith repeated, sagely.
“Yes, Faith, it is.” Selina knew the friend that Thomas was staying with, up in the North. Lord Merriweather was already happily married. There was no risk of her forming any disastrous attachments there.
Jasper was sitting in his study, going over the estate’s monthly expenses. Everything appeared to be in order—after selling several of Thoroughbred colts, he had made a handsome profit, which he planned to invest the next time he went to London to speak with his solicitor.
After leaving Lady Selina safely at home, he had returned to Gillingham Manor. His mind was still on her—her unfamiliar demeanor. She had seemed sad, contemplative. He wondered why. After all, they’d found each other—before it was too late.
The problem of his engagement still nagged him—he wondered how to end it in a way that didn’t sever any ties with Lord and Lady Kirby. After all, they lived in such close proximity. He had known the family all his life, and the two families often mixed. Unfortunately, the engagement with Lady Leah had always seemed a matter of course, given how close their families were.
There was an abrupt knock at the door, bringing him out of his ruminating. He immediately recognized Sotheby’s heavy-handed knock.
“Yes?” he called out, wondering who could be visiting today.
“Lord Sandbourne, Your Grace,” Sotheby, his butler, announced as he opened the door.
“Stephen!” Jasper said with a smile, closing the ledger in front of him with a loud thump.
“Jasper,” his friend replied, entering the room. Stephen was dressed for riding in a trim navy-blue coat and riding breeches with tall boots. He carried his top hat in hand.
“Have a seat, my friend,” Jasper said, gesturing toward the empty chair that sat on the other side of his massive wooden desk. “To what do I owe the honor?”
“Just thought I’d drop in,” Stephen replied. He was often over at Gillingham Manor. There was rarely any true reason for it. He sat, crossing his legs, then gently tossing his hat on top of the desk. “So, have you heard the news?” Stephen raised an eyebrow.
“What news?” Jasper folded his arms as he leaned back in his chair, causing the leather to creak.
“Lord Langley has made me a most generous offer for one of his young bulls.”
“Interesting. Do you think it’s because he means to have you marry his eldest daughter?” Jasper raised an eyebrow, trying not to grin and failing. He could have said more, but he refrained. It wasn’t often that Lord Langley sold off any of his young breeding stock. Stephen had been trying to convince him for years. This was life in the country—livestock and marriages.
“The thought may have crossed my mind,” Stephen said.
Jasper laughed at the sour face his friend made. “To own the truth, it would be a good match.”
“She’s just so young,” Stephen replied seriously, frowning.
“She’s sixteen, is she not?” Jasper asked. Many ladies were married at that age. Lady Ella was as happy and lively as Stephen was. And she was very pretty, too.
“I was thinking of hosting a small supper at Sandbourne,” Stephen said, changing the subject. “I was going to extend an invitation to Lord and Lady Kirby since they hosted that wonderful dinner the other evening. You and yours are invited, as well.”
“We’d be happy to come,” Jasper said, already looking forward to seeing Lady Selina again. When he thought of her, there was a great glowing light in his chest.
“Excellent,” Stephen said. “I’ve sent an invitation round to Kirby Hall. Once they’ve replied, I’ll have my housekeeper procure a roast.”
“Capital.”
“I suppose Lady Selina will come, as well,” Stephen said, smiling.
“I don’t see why Lord and Lady Kirby would leave her behind,” Jasper replied.
“No, no—of course not. She has the most fascinating stories,” Stephen pointed out.
“She does, indeed.”
“I daresay, she would never consent to remain out here, though,” Stephen went on.
Jasper had a sudden sinking feeling in his chest. His dearest friend, also enamored with Lady Selina! He considered what Stephen had just said—it was something that he had never stopped to consider.
“Well, I suppose you never know,” he mused. “She does seem to truly love London.” Her father’s estate was a few hours’ ride from London. Lady Selina had once said that it was particularly convenient. He hadn’t considered how she might not want to be nearly two days’ ride from the City.
“Indeed. Well, I’ll be honest, I would like to become better acquainted with her,” Stephen said, reaching out and toying with the brim of his hat.
Jasper smiled at his friend, even though he felt suddenly anxious. Stephen, of course, was the only one of the two of them who was free to court Lady Selina.
“You never know,” Jasper replied, recalling how she’d been so content just that morning by the World Tree. “After all, the country here is quiet and lovely—it has its charms.”
Stephen nodded, his face a grim mask.
Jasper didn’t know what to say. He always told Stephen everything. He hadn’t told Stephen about his meetings with the lady, or even his feelings for her, which she had seemed to return. Nor, did it seem, he should.
Selina wrote a letter to her brother, asking him if it was at all possible for her to join him up in the North. She didn’t tell him specifics, only that she needed to leave Kirby Hall. Thomas would understand. He wouldn’t press her for details until he saw her.
Selina sat at the writing-table in her room, staring out the window. Inside of her, there was such chaos and confusion. She knew that she needed to go, yet found herself unable to leave.
All she needed to do was ring the bell, then place the letter into Wickes’ hands.
Instead, she slipped the letter inside of the top drawer of the writing table, without sending it. She stared out the window where a small grey bird flew past. She wondered what it would be like to be so free. She watched until the bird disappeared into the distance.
Not long after, Faith came in to assist her in dressing for dinner, not asking her about the letter. Selina didn’t know what to do—there was a part of her that didn’t want to leave. The other part of her was warning her to get out while she could.
When Selina entered the dining room, her aunt was glowing with excitement, likely fed by the success of Leah’s party and wedding preparations.
“You’ll never know who has just sent us an invitation, Selina dear,” Aunt Georgiana said.
“Who, Aunt?” she asked, seating herself at her usual place. She picked up the cloth napkin, shaking it out before smoothing it across her lap.
“Lord Sandbourne,” Aunt Georgiana said. “He’s invited us to dine tomorrow evening.”
“Oh, lovely!” Selina exclaimed, putting on a happy face. “Dear Lord Sandbourne. He’s such a kind gentlema
n.” It was easy enough to pretend. She did like Lord Sandbourne—he was always so friendly.
“Oh, yes. You’ll love his estate,” Aunt Georgiana gushed. “Sandbourne is a perfect little gem. Any lady would be glad to marry him.”
“Tell Lord Sandbourne that,” Leah said archly, taking a sip of her wine. “He’s always very polite, to everyone, equally. I often thought that Papa would have me marry him. Although, he’s not as great a catch as my Duke.”
Selina felt she had to stick up for Lord Sandbourne. “Why not, Leah? What puts Lord Sandbourne at such a disadvantage?”
“He’s merely a Marquess, of course.” Leah smiled at her, smugly.
Selina let out a breath, softly—so as not to draw any attention. “Poor Lord Sandbourne,” she said, her eyes on her place setting, where the silverware was neatly arranged. She touched a finger to a fork. “Only a Marquess.”
“I have it on good authority,” Aunt Georgiana said. “That Lady Langley means to have her eldest daughter marry him.”
“Mother!” Leah said scandalized. “What gossip!”
“It’s not gossip. I heard it from Lady Langley myself. Lady Ella would make him a good wife. They would be two merry souls living there at Sandbourne Hall,” Aunt Georgiana said to Selina. “She has a sunny disposition that would suit Lord Sandbourne very well.”
“She’s still a child,” Leah pointed out. “She’s only just debuted this past year—at sixteen!”
“Selina is only a year older,” her mother said. “She doesn’t seem young at all.”
Selina knew, too—she had seen quite a bit of the world. Her father had made sure of it. By the time she was ten, she’d already been as far south as Marseille. She’d been fifteen the summer that the family had vacationed in Italy. For a moment, her mind traveled to the warmth of the sun, shining over the fields of Tuscany.
The door opened, and Uncle Latimer entered. “Sorry to have kept all of you ladies waiting,” he said. “One of the mares has given birth.”
“Ah, is it Violet?” Aunt Georgiana asked. Violet was Aunt Georgiana’s mare.
“It is, indeed, my dear.” Uncle Latimer sat, and then the dinner was served. That evening, it was a roast, with roasted potatoes, and a mélange of root vegetables, covered in rosemary and butter.
“I can’t wait to see her dear little foal,” Aunt Georgiana said, turning her gaze toward Selina. “Violet is one of my particular favorites.”
Selina beamed at her aunt, then turned to her uncle. “When can we meet the foal, Uncle?”
“As soon as we’ve eaten, my dear,” Uncle Latimer said. “He’s a leggy thing, but he’s already full of energy.”
“What will you name him, Aunt Georgiana?” she asked.
“I won’t decide until I’ve seen him,” her aunt said decisively. “Although, I’ve been considering Narcissus. You know, keeping it floral.”
Jasper and Stephen had whiled away the afternoon, sitting in Jasper’s study. They’d moved to the two well-worn armchairs by the fireplace. Sotheby had brought them glasses of bourbon.
The sun had begun its descent behind the rolling green fields and hills outside of the window. Jasper felt a nice, warm burn from the alcohol. His stomach rumbled a little.
“Well, Stephen,” Jasper said. “Would you care to dine with Mother and me?”
“Where’s Reuben?” Stephen asked.
“He said he’d be dining over at the lodge,” Jasper replied. His brother had a small mansion out on the border of the estate, where he stayed several nights out of the week. Even so, Reuben was often at Gillingham Manor, where he still had a bedroom. Reuben liked having a house of his own. He was very proud of his little lodge, with his little pack of hunting dogs and his three servants.
“I’ll dine with you,” Stephen agreed affably.
They both got up, walking down the stairs, toward the dining room. As they neared the staircase, they heard someone talking urgently by the front door.
Jasper and Stephen shared a look; then both walked quickly down the steps. Once there, they found Lord Quimby, whose estate bordered Gillingham.
“Oh, Your Grace!” he said, urgency in his voice. “I’ve only just arrived. I was telling your butler all!” Lord Quimby was a middle-aged gentleman, of slight build. His face was usually stern, composed. He was clearly ruffled—frightened.
“Come in, My Lord,” Jasper said.
Lord Quimby was clutching at his cravat, and he tugged on it in agitation. “My youngest daughter just arrived home with the most disturbing news.”
“What’s happened?” Jasper asked.
“She was out walking with her maid, when they were accosted by masked men,” Lord Quimby explained.
“Did they attack her?” Jasper’s mouth had gone dry.
“They demanded her jewels,” Lord Quimby said. “She had nothing but a golden cross on a chain. She handed it over, but they held a knife to her maid’s throat.”
Jasper and Stephen looked at each other, frowning. “Did she get a look at them, My Lord?” Stephen asked.
“I’ve brought her, Your Grace,” he replied. “She’s in the carriage.”
They all walked out, to where Lady Laura sat in her carriage. She was a dark-haired lady with porcelain skin, dressed in soft grey.
“My Lady,” Jasper said, stepping toward the carriage where she sat. “It’s so good of you to come.”
“I just had to tell you, Your Grace,” she said. “They were tall, taller than I am. And they—they seemed clean.”
“Clean?” he frowned. Such an odd detail.
“Yes, Your Grace. There was dirt on their clothes, but it seemed just for show.” She looked very pale after the fright she had. She was shaking, like a leaf in a storm.
“I see,” he said. “Thank you, My Lady. Any details help.” Although he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Most men were taller than Lady Laura, who was of slight build.
He turned to her father. “Take her home, My Lord. Keep her where it’s safe.”
His mind, meanwhile, was in chaos and his blood was running cold. It could have very easily been the Lady Selina who had been out walking with her own maid. He needed to do something to ensure her safety.
He had the feeling that she wouldn’t listen to him, though. She was headstrong. Perhaps, she would listen to her uncle.
“Come, Stephen,” he said. “We’ll dine quickly, and then I must head over to Kirby Hall. Do you think you could bring word to the Colonel in Brooksville?”
“Of course,” Stephen replied.
Jasper felt tense. Every moment that passed, he felt like she could be out there, wandering the countryside with no one to protect her. He couldn’t imagine what he would do if something happened to her.
Chapter Ten
While her parents and Selina were out in the barn, looking at the new foal, Leah remained indoors. There were new foals all the time. Why would this one be any different? Thus, she was the only one in the house when the Duke’s arrival was announced.
“What brings you here, Your Grace?” she asked. Mr. Wickes remained standing beside the door.
“I had come to see your father, My Lady,” the Duke explained. He gave her an abrupt bow.
“He’s in the stables,” she replied. She looked at her fiancé. “One of the mares has given birth.”
“You didn’t want to see?” he asked.
“What do I care for another horse, Your Grace?” she asked, setting her needlepoint aside. She was working on elegantly monogramming her new initials on handkerchiefs—LM in a soft grey along with a little sprig of lavender, her favorite.
“I see,” he replied, walking over to the window. She watched him, feeling proud of him. He stood, his hands clasped behind his back, which was held so straight. He was impressive, and she knew it.
“Can I have something sent up for you, Your Grace?” she offered. “Wine, perhaps?”
He didn’t turn, watching out the window. “Thank you, My Lady. I’m fine.”<
br />
“Will you be dining at Sandbourne tomorrow evening, as well?” she asked, even though she knew he would be. She felt a little nervous about being like this with him, despite Mr. Wickes’s presence by the door. She wanted to prove to him that he could enjoy this—just the two of them, together.
“Yes, My Lady,” he said, turning away from the window. When he looked at her, he didn’t smile. His bright green eyes looked at her, studied her. She gave him a demure smile back, confident that he would not find her lacking in anything. Her heart beat quickened as he walked over to stand behind the settee where she sat.
Sins of an Intoxicating Duchess: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 9