To Marry a Duke

by Fenella J Miller

  The landlady greeted her appearance with dismay. ‘My lady, you should not have ventured down here alone, we have a party of gentlemen recently returned from a cock-fight and I’m sorry to say they are a trifle disguised.’

  So the raucous laughter that had directed her to the vestibule came from them. ‘I shall be quick. I would like these letters delivered. This one, to Brook Street, is urgent, and I should like someone to take it immediately. They can travel post. The other is not quite so urgent. I have the requisite coins here to pay for both.

  ‘My lady I don’t have two lads to spare. Can you not send one of your grooms with the second?’

  ‘Very well, have your man go to Brook Street; I shall organize the other.’ Allegra dropped some coins into the woman’s outstretched hand and turned, intending to retreat before she could be accosted.

  She was too late. ‘Good heavens, Lady Allegra, what are you doing in this benighted place?’

  ‘Captain Pledger! What a surprise.’ She was aware of the anxiety of the landlady, hovering behind her. ‘It is all right, I am well acquainted with this gentleman, he is a close friend of my brother, the Duke of Colchester.’

  ‘We cannot converse here, my lady. It’s too public.’ Captain Pledger turned to the landlady. ‘Do you have a private parlour we could use for a moment?’

  ‘No, sir, we don’t, we’re that full tonight, they’re all in use.’

  ‘Captain Pledger, I have a parlour, come upstairs with me, for there are things I must tell you.’

  Ignoring the scandalized snort from the landlady she led the way back upstairs. She must put her enmity aside. Captain Pledger’s arrival at the White Hart was a godsend. He could take the letter to Richard and accompany him back. The captain was a soldier, he would be ideal to watch over her twin.

  She led the way back upstairs to her sitting-room ‘I must begin by apologizing for my treatment of you when we last met, Captain Pledger.’

  He bowed, his expression hidden from her. ‘It’s already forgiven and forgotten, my lady. I fear that something’s amiss. How can I be of assistance?’

  Hurriedly she related the events of the past few days. He was suitably appalled by it all.

  ‘I shall be delighted to take the note to Richard, Lady Allegra. I’m quite prepared to ride all night.’

  ‘Thank you for the offer, but the matter is not urgent. If you take the next mail coach, I believe they leave from here twice a day, that will get you there soon enough.’

  ‘I would prefer to ride. I have my horse with me; he has been resting for several hours and is fit enough to take me half the distance. I can hire a nag for the second part of the journey and collect my mount on the return.’

  ‘If you are going to leave at once, you will, no doubt, see Mr Tremayne waiting by the side of the road. Would you be so kind as to tell him we have arrived safely, that Billy is on his way and we are awaiting the arrival of a doctor for Miss Tremayne?’ Allegra hesitated. Should she offer to fund his journey, or would he be offended.

  ‘I’ll be glad to leave my friends in the bar, we won a small fortune between us, and they are determined to drink their share away.’

  ‘Then I shall thank you again, Captain Pledger, and look to see you in Brook Street with Richard in due course.’

  He bowed again and only then did she realize the parlour door was shut. She frowned how could he have been so foolish? Far too late to point out his lack of thought, any damage to her reputation was done.

  She peered up and down the passageway and was relieved to discover it empty. She had been closeted with him for scarcely ten minutes, even if the matter had been noticed this was hardly long enough to constitute a serious breach of etiquette.

  She must see how Demelza did. As far she was aware the doctor had not arrived. Unwilling to risk further indiscretion she went to the bell-cord and pulled it vigorously. This time she would get a maid servant to escort her.

  Allegra took turns with Miss Murrell to cool Demelza’s burning face. Jenny replenished both water jugs ‘It is more than an hour since we arrived, why has the doctor not attended us?’

  ‘I’m sure he will be here soon, my lady.’ No sooner had Miss Murrell spoken then they both heard the sound of voices and footsteps approaching down the uncarpeted passageway. ‘This could be him coming this very minute. Jenny, let him in at once.’

  Doctor Canning examined his patient. ‘It is a flesh wound, but deep and requires a suture or two.’

  Miss Murrell acted as his assistant and the job was completed efficiently. Demelza hardly stirred even when the doctor cleansed the injury with brandy.

  ‘Why is she so hot, Doctor Canning? I thought fever did not set in until the next day.’

  He completed his ablutions before replying. ‘My lady, Miss Tremayne lost a lot of blood and the long carriage ride did not improve matters. However, I don’t believe her life to be in any danger at the moment. Keep sponging her down, keep her cool, and get as much boiled water down her as you are able.’

  ‘Thank you, Doctor Canning. Do you have any idea how long we shall be obliged to remain here?’

  ‘It depends how Miss Tremayne is in the morning. But even if her fever abates, I doubt she will be well enough to travel for a day or two.’

  The maid servant, who had waited outside, came in to remove the soiled cloths and water. ‘Will you be requiring anything else, my lady?’

  Allegra shook her head. ‘No, that will be all, thank you.’ She turned to Miss Murrell. ‘Have you had any supper?’

  ‘No, my dear. I should have asked the girl to bring me up a tray. I suspect the kitchen will be closed now, for it’s past nine o’clock.’

  ‘There is a tray in my room, the broth will be cold, but there is bread and cheese and apple pie.

  You go and eat; we can take care of Demelza in your absence.’

  As the door closed softly behind her companion Allegra belatedly realized she had neglected to tell her about the meeting with Captain Pledger. She would tell her when she returned. She rubbed her eyes - she was so tired - it been a long and difficult day. Perhaps if she splashed her face with cold water before returning to her vigil by the bed she would feel more able to cope.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The fire flickered and snapped loudly, making John jerk. ‘Steady, lad, it’s a twig. There’s no one but ourselves out here.’

  ‘Sorry, sir, I’m a mite jumpy. It’s not every day you get to share a fire with a corpse.’

  Jago drew his legs under him and stood up, walking to the centre of the lane. ‘Listen, can you hear anything?’

  ‘I can, sir. I reckon a carriage is coming. We’ll see the lights when it rounds the bend.’

  ‘Hand me my jacket, John. I need to tidy myself up or the driver will think we’re the bandits.’ His cravat, long past recovery, had been discarded earlier, but served as a polishing cloth for his boots. ‘I need a shave but it’s so dark I must hope no one will notice.’

  ‘Shall I light our lantern, now, sir?’

  Jago nodded. ‘Yes, stand in the centre of the road and swing it slowly, give them warning of our presence.’

  They stood side-by-side, John holding up the lantern as the smart equipage drew nearer. Ithalted within hailing distance, but out of range.

  ‘I am Jago Tremayne. This is my groom. We were set upon earlier and have remained behind guarding the remains of one of the attackers.’ His words carried clearly to the stationary vehicle. His explanation was accepted and the carriage rolled forward, the four horses pulling it snorting and stamping at the delay.

  He remained where he was, giving the occupants of the coach time to study him more clearly, be sure he was a gentleman; that this was not a clever ploy to ambush them.

  The groom on the box jumped down and ran round to open the door and lower the steps. Jago watched, hoping there were no ladies present. A tall man, of middle years, his evening coat straining across his chest, descended and strode confidently towards him.


  ‘Sir Bertram Davies, at your service; this is a bad business. I hoped I’d cleared the bastards from these parts last week.’ He pumped Jago’s outstretched hand. ‘Show me that cadaver, Mr Tremayne, let me see if I recognize him.’

  In the light of four lanterns Sir Bertram stared down at the corpse. ‘This is no regular footpad, sir.’

  ‘I had come to the same conclusion. I fear the ambush was premeditated. When my daughter was shot it was a deliberate act. They were not after me, but either Demelza, or my future wife, Lady Allegra Humphry.’

  Sir Bertram nudged the corpse with his boot. ‘Well, we will discover nothing new out here, it is far too dark.’ He shouted over his shoulder. ‘Bring a blanket from inside the coach; we have a body to wrap up.’

  Ten minutes later they were ready to depart. John was travelling on the step at the rear with strict instructions to look out for the cart coming to fetch them. Inside, the blanket shrouded shape lolled in one corner, Jago and Sir Bertram, sitting on the opposite side, ignored their macabre companion.

  ‘I am the magistrate in this region. My militia flushed out the vermin last week. We have five fine specimens waiting for the gallows.’ The older man was all but invisible in the darkness. ‘However, I can assure you none of them looked like that one over there.’

  ‘In the hour or so I have been sitting by the roadside I’ve considered every possible reason there could be for someone wishing to kill a member of my family and am no nearer a solution.’

  Sir Bertram delved in his jacket pocket and pulled out the silvery flask and offered it to him.

  ‘Here, sir, you must be in need of some refreshment. It’s French cognac - although I should not own to having it, I suppose.’

  Jago swallowed several mouthfuls of the fiery liquor. ‘Thank you. That’s exactly what I needed. Of course, a simpler explanation could be that this was a case of mistaken identity. We were stopped in error, and in the darkness the attackers took us for someone else.’

  ‘I have a third suggestion for you, Mr Tremayne. A possible answer to this conundrum. But it

  is possible you might not like my idea.’

  ‘I wish to hear it, nevertheless, Sir Bertram.’

  ‘In my experience when a female is targeted there’s a jealous lover involved in the perfidy somewhere.’

  Jago’s jaw hardened. He drew breath to deliver a pithy response but something held it back. Allegra had no lovers, jealous or otherwise, but he had. Camille hadn’t taken her dismissal kindly and had, according to his messenger, made wild threats and threatened to get revenge. At the time he had dismissed the tale as of no importance, but had he been wrong to do so?

  ‘I think it’s just possible you might be correct, sir. There is someone in my past that made threats when I ended the liaison. I’ll investigate the matter further when I return to Town.’

  ‘Good man! Cherchez la femme! I’ll leave the matter in your hands. What do you wish me to do with the body?’

  ‘Nothing. I’ll take it with me. I wish to examine it more carefully in daylight. There might be something secreted in a pocket somewhere.’

  ‘Take it, sir; send the corpse on to me when you’ve finished with it.’

  The sound of a horse galloping towards them interrupted their conversation. From the open window Jago caught a glimpse of a man, crouched over the withers of a powerful beast, and then he was gone, the hoof beats fading into the night.

  ‘Good God! He was in a deal of a hurry,’ Sir Bertram exclaimed. ‘He’ll break his neck if he takes the next stretch at that speed; it’s full of potholes.’

  A while later John called from his vantage point behind the coach. ‘I can see lights approaching, Mr Tremayne. I reckon it’s Billy with a cart.’

  The moonlight illuminated the road ahead which was no longer obscured by the dense thickets

  of Feathers Wood. The carriage rattled to stop and the far door opened. Billy put his head in.

  ‘Mr Tremayne, sir; Lady Allegra’s safe at the White Hart, Romford. Do you want John and me

  to take this with us in the cart?’

  ‘An excellent idea. Are we far from the inn?’

  ‘In this coach, about fifteen minutes, no longer, sir.’

  John and Billy rolled the body through the door and then the steps were folded back and the door slammed shut.

  Jago broke the silence a few minutes later. ‘Do you have far to travel tonight, Sir Bertram?’

  ‘No, I live a mile away from the White Hart. I shall be snug in my bed shortly after you, sir. I intend to make enquiries locally tomorrow. It’s possible the two wounded men were seen by someone. If I discover anything, I have your direction and shall send up to you.’

  ‘You have been most kind, sir. I doubt there are many men prepared to share their carriage with such an object.’

  The carriage halted outside the entrance to the yard of the coaching inn and Jago jumped out. He was anxious to get inside see how his ladies did. Sir Bertram had assumed the dead man had been killed by himself, or one of the grooms, and he had not told him otherwise. As far as he was concerned the fewer people who knew about Allegra’s involvement the better.

  Demelza’s injury was easy to treat, but the damage to Allegra might be far harder to cure. She had suffered too many shocks recently and her mental state was fragile. Her temporary collapse, only a few days since had demonstrated that.

  He strode into the White Hart to find the vestibule empty. He could hear there was a drunken party in the public bar and had no intention of investigating there. He rang the bell impatiently. In the quiet his stomach rumbled loudly reminding him he had not eaten.

  The door opened behind the counter and a man appeared, wiping his hands on his leather apron. ‘Good evening, sir. Are you by any chance, Mr Tremayne?’

  ‘I am. I hope you have a room for me.’

  ‘I do, sir; I’ve taken the liberty of sending up a tray for you. I expected you might be sharp set and the kitchen is now closed until the morning.’

  ‘Thank you. I should like to visit my daughter before I retire. Could you have someone conduct me to her rooms?’

  Jago tapped softly on the outer door a potboy had led him to. Miss Murrell opened it and her face lit up. ‘Good evening, sir. I am so glad you have arrived safely.’

  ‘How is Demelza? What did the doctor say?’

  ‘She has a fever, but it is less than it was. Dr Canning assured us that she’s in no danger.

  Come along through, Mr Tremayne, but I warn you, she’s sound asleep.’

  Having seen his daughter was comfortable and well attended he was eager to find his own chambers. The waiting potboy took him back through the maze of narrow passageways.

  ‘This is yours, sir. You ain’t got a parlour, I’m afraid. Her ladyship’s next door, but she’s retired. There’s no light showing beneath her parlour door.’

  The boy entered first, holding the candlestick aloft and from it he lit several candles before departing. Jago decided the chamber was adequate, he had slept in far worse over the years. If the supper he saw hiding under clean white cloth was half as good he would be satisfied.

  He tumbled onto his bed fully clothed, too fatigued to remove more than his jacket and boots.

  He was instantly asleep. He had discovered years ago that however dire the circumstances things would be easier to deal with after a good night’s sleep.

  *

  Allegra heard him arrive, his deep baritone was unmistakable and the walls were thin. She had been sitting in the dark, in her parlour listening for his footsteps. She wished he had knocked on her door, come to see her, but he must have seen there was no light and decided it would be indelicate to disturb her once she was in her bedchamber.

  No matter, she was comforted knowing he was so close, within earshot. Now she was ready to retire. She had left the curtains undrawn and the moonlight flooding in through the windows was sufficient to light her to bed. She removed her grimy travelling dress and to
ssed it onto the floor in disgust. No amount of sponging would restore it sufficiently to make it wearable. She smiled. If her maid did not arrive by morning, and she was not prepared to remain in her chemise, she would have to put the soiled gown back on.

  She said her prayers before slipping between the sweet smelling sheets. The Lord must be tired of hearing from her. She seemed to have been in constant communication over the past few days. The banging and clattering in the yard gradually subsided and she fell asleep.

  Her dreams were troubled. She was running, trying desperately to find somewhere to hide, but every time she found sanctuary behind a tree the unseen dangers multiplied. Finally she burst into a clearing to be met by a barrage of gunfire.

  Men who had holes in their chests, men with half their faces missing and one eye socket gaping bloodily, lurched towards her with smoking guns in their hands. She was surrounded by

  these monsters. There was no escape. She screamed, again and again.

  *

  From his bedroom Jago heard her screams and fearing the worst he grabbed his pistol and hurtled from the room. Her parlour door was locked. Without hesitation he stepped back and raising his foot, prepared to attack the door.

  A hand dropped on his shoulder. ‘You have no boots on, man. Here, let me do it.’ A large

  young man, cravat dangling round his neck, but fully dressed, smashed the lock with two powerful kicks. Jago burst into the room, pistol ready to fire.

  Allegra’s terrified screaming had roused most of the guests at the front of the inn and several of them prepared to follow, eager to discover why the young lady had been making such a racket. The landlady arrived, her cap askew, in time to prevent them.

  ‘Please return to your rooms, ladies and gentlemen. The young lady’s having a nightmare, nothing worse. She was held up on the road today and her young friend was shot. Such an experience must have upset her nerves.’

  Nodding and muttering in sympathy, for most had heard about the event, the assembled guests traipsed back to their beds. The screaming stopped, the corridor was quiet again.