The Duke's Legacy

by Wendy Soliman

  Another step downwards and he saw a tiny smile flirting with her lips. As the little witch got closer, so his discomfort increased. Sebastian ignored it, reminding himself that he only had himself to blame for the torture she was inflicting upon him.

  Lost in a world of lascivious thought, his brain was slow to realise the piercing scream which suddenly rent the air had actually come from Abbey. He could only watch in helpless frustration as she tumbled the rest of the way down the stairs, landing in a tangle of limbs at his feet and lying there, completely motionless.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Everyone streamed out of the drawing-room, stopping just short of Sebastian as he bent over Abbey.

  “What happened?” Bevan asked, rushing to Sebastian’s side.

  “She fell,” he said curtly, feeling for a pulse. “Keep back everyone. Give her some space.”

  Sebastian’s own breath came in short, jagged bursts, fear rendering his movements ungainly. Her pulse was strong and after what seemed like an eternity her eyes opened. She blinked, clearly dazed and disorientated, but very much alive. Relief washed through Sebastian.

  “Are you all right?” He supported her raised head as she struggled to sit up. “Stay where you are for a moment. Give yourself time.”

  “Yes, I don’t think I’m harmed.” She wiggled her limbs and winced. “What happened?”

  But he could see from her shocked expression she already knew. Another attempt had been made on her life—not just in front of her relations, but in his presence, too. Had she descended the stairs at her usual rapid pace, knowing she was inexcusably late, the accident could have been so much worse. Sebastian suspected she had only slowed down when she became aware of him prowling in the hall below her. She had put the amatory lessons he had tried not to conduct to good use and staged a provocative display for his benefit. That included trailing her hand along the rail—something she probably wouldn’t normally bother to do—and was able to hold on to it as she tumbled, breaking the worst of her fall.

  “Abbey, my dear…” Bevan appeared lost for words.

  “I think she’s all right,” Sebastian said. “Just give her a few minutes to recover from the shock.”

  “But what happened?” her aunt asked.

  Very good question. “Can you stand?”

  Sebastian struggled to disguise the anger bubbling inside him. An audacious attempt had been made on her life, he was here to protect her and had failed her in the worst manner imaginable. He felt ready to commit a few murders of his own when he reflected upon his negligence. The plain fact of the matter was, he had been so preoccupied with the child’s charms that he hadn’t been thinking coherently.

  “I think so.”

  Sebastian offered her his hand and pulled her slowly to her feet. The moment she attempted to place weight of her left foot she cried out and would have crumpled to the floor again had not Sebastian’s arm been supporting her. Wordlessly he swept her into his arms and ascended the stairs, several of the ladies trailing in his wake, discussing the accident in shocked undertones.

  “We should send for the doctor,” Lady Bevan said.

  “He won’t be able to get through the snow,” Sebastian replied, continuing upwards with Abbey in his arms, taking the stairs two at a time. The ladies following him were required to lift their heavy skirts and scamper in order to keep pace with him. “Best advise Mrs. Burton. She will be able to help.”

  “I will go and find her,” Miss Graves said.

  Sebastian laid Abbey on the couch in her chamber, her left leg supported by several cushions. He removed her shoe and, ignoring the proprieties, examined her ankle. He held it between his fingers, probing with a gentle touch as he asked her to rotate it in both directions. She was able to do so but it caused her some pain.

  “Probably sprained but not broken,” he told her.

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “It ought to. Broken ankles take forever to mend” He managed a brief smile. “There will be no dancing for you this season if is was broken.”

  “Well then, I’m the luckiest creature alive.”

  Sebastian suspected she was using sarcasm to disguise her fear. How he wished they were alone so they could discuss what had occurred. That wasn’t possible of course and so, having satisfied himself her injury wasn’t life-threatening, he gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze before ceding his place at her side to her hovering aunt.

  Offending shoe still in his hand Sebastian slipped from the room, unobserved by the concerned crowd of well-wishers. Prominent amongst them, and openly expressing her horror, Sebastian was disgusted to notice Mary Bevan. Realising it was the same ankle Abbey had sprained when she fell down the stairs previously, the ladies had reached the astounding conclusion that there must still be a weakness in it, neatly accounting for this second accident.

  Alone in the corridor, Sebastian examined the shoe. It had a high heel, which had come loose and caused Abbey to fall.

  But, of course, the fall hadn’t been the accident everyone supposed.

  Looking at it more closely Sebastian could see that it had been carefully loosened at its edges, leaving the heel itself hanging by the merest thread in its centre. Abbey’s weight would only need to have shifted slightly to one side to cause the heel to snap off completely. And who when descending a staircase in a rush keeps their weight central?

  Why hadn’t Abbey noticed the heel wasn’t secure when she first put the shoe on? Unless? Unless she was running late. Everyone knew her uncle was a stickler for punctuality and tardiness in his own family was one of the few things guaranteed to test his congenial temperament. That being so, she would have put her shoes on in haste at the last minute—most people left their shoes until the end when dressing—and rushed from her chamber without concerning herself about a slightly wobbly heel. But if Sebastian was right, someone would have had to deliberately delay her to ensure the plan worked.

  Sebastian moved back into Abbey’s sitting-room, discovered Sally hovering on the edge of the crowd and beckoned to her. Back in the corridor he quizzed her for several minutes and then, grim faced, returned to his own room, where Hodges awaited him. Flinging the offending shoe towards the bed, Sebastian faced his henchman, at last able to give vent to his fulminating anger.

  “Unimaginable evil resides beneath this roof,” he said grimly.

  “It ain’t like you to get so riled,” Hodges replied pensively. “What’s so different about this case that’s got you all worked up?”

  “The lady was depending upon me and I almost failed her in the worst manner imaginable.” Sebastian thumped his fist against the wall. “It was only by the purest chance she survived this attack.”

  “Don’t let fly with your temper ’cause it won’t help none. This one’s special to yer, is she?” Hodges appeared oblivious to Sebastian’s chilling glare. “And her just a chit of a girl.” He chuckled. “Who would have thought it? The great Lord Denver brought to heel by a mere child. Still, she is fearful handsome, I’ll give yer that.”

  “You forget yourself, Hodges.”

  “If you say so, m’lord.” Hodges remained unrepentant. “So how did it happen then, the accident, I mean, not your falling for the lass?”

  “The heel of her shoe was loosened.”

  “What?” Hodges’s bushy eyebrows snapped together. “How come Sally didn’t notice?”

  “I just asked her the same question. She told me she always lays her mistress’s clothes out for the evening while she’s taking tea with the other ladies. She’s adamant the shoe was sound at that time because she checked it thoroughly herself while retying the ribbons.”

  “I don’t think Sally would lie.”

  “Now who’s protecting his paramour?” Sebastian asked with a ghost of a smirk.

  There was nothing subtle about Hodges’s responding grin. “She would lose her position if she was that negligent, it’s true, but I happen know she’s thorough about everything she
does. Besides, she enjoys being a lady’s maid and takes her duties seriously.”

  “No need to be so defensive, Hodges. I don’t suspect Sally of neglecting her duties. We know this was deliberate and she’s not involved.”

  “Right, so someone tampered with it between when Sally laid it out and when Lady Abigail put it on.”

  “Precisely. Someone who understands her routine and knew her attire for the evening would be laid out during tea, when anyone could slip away unobserved for a few moments. Sally is waiting upon some of the other ladies in residence, including Mary Bevan because she doesn’t have her own maid, and so she’s kept busy.”

  “Meaning Lady Abigail’s things are often left unattended.”

  “Right.”

  “The heel must have been pretty loose if it was meant to snap when she’d only got as far as the stairs,” Hodges said.

  “That’s what I thought. Presumably someone detained her and so even if she noticed the loose heel she didn’t have time to do anything about it for fear of being even later than she already was.”

  “It could have happened that way,” Hodges said thoughtfully. “But it would require some precision of timing.”

  “Yes indeed, and a cool nerve, too, but nevertheless I’m convinced that’s how it was achieved. I can speak with certainty because I asked Sally.” Sebastian paused, cold, hard fury ripping through him. “It seems Miss Frobisher called upon her with little Ellen, just as Lady Abigail was finishing dressing. Ellen was supposedly fractious after her energetic day playing in the snow, unwilling to settle and anxious to see Lady Abigail. She makes no secret of the fact she adores the children and spent some time playing with the little girl, which is what caused her to be so late.”

  Hodges scowled. “Ah, very clever.”

  “Hodges, I want you to seek out Miss Frobisher, bombard her with your legendary charm and see if you can find out who sent her to see Abbey. I know who it was, of course, but need confirmation. I’m persuaded a woman of her ilk would not be dictated to by a child in her care, but could hardly ignore a direct order from her employer.”

  “Aw, God, m’lord, have a heart. That woman’s got a face like a stewed prune, a body that looks like it’s been pummelled by a flat iron and the most spiteful personality I’ve ever known. All the servants shun her when they can.”

  Sebastian managed a brief chuckle but, in his present uncompromising mood, it came out more as a bark. “Then look upon it as a challenge, Hodges. Besides, this is for Lady Abigail, and you’d do well to remember it was she who thought to supply you with sustainable vitals during your supposed illness.”

  “Hmm, there is that, I suppose, but still—”

  “And sent Sally to deliver them.”

  “Oh, all right then, I’ll do it. But only for Lady Abigail’s sake. Nothing else could induce me to have anything to do with that old hag.”

  “We must all make sacrifices occasionally.”

  Hodges harrumphed. “I don’t see you making any.”

  Sebastian rolled his eyes. “You have absolutely no idea.”

  “What do you plan to do while I attempt to soften the heart of a woman who probably ain’t got one?”

  “Me?” Sebastian drew himself up to his full height, grimly resolute. “I plan to seek an immediate interview with Lord Bevan. Much as it grieves me to admit it, matters have reached the stage where I can no longer protect Lady Abigail without help. Her uncle needs to be informed of the danger she’s in. She won’t be happy if I betray her trust but given the circumstances I can see no alternative. Besides, I have an idea how we might resolve the matter, but it can hardly be attempted without Bevan’s prior knowledge and consent.”

  ***

  The commotion caused by what everyone still thought was an unfortunate accident gradually calmed down. Mrs. Burton took charge of Abbey, making her comfortable and pronouncing her injury to be superficial. She treated it with a poultice composed of her special herbs.

  “She will be back on her feet within a week, Lord Bevan,” Sebastian overheard the housekeep predict. “Provided she rests and does exactly as she’s told. I’m having something sent up for her supper.”

  Sebastian almost managed to smile when he imagined her reaction to having yet more restrictions being placed upon her.

  With nothing else to do, the rest of the party headed for the dining-room but dinner was a desultory affair. Everyone speculated as to the cause of the accident and exclaimed repeatedly just how fortunate Abbey had been not to have sustained a more serious injury. Sebastian made little contribution to the conversation, enduring a meal that seemed interminable and rather flat without Abbey’s presence. He scarcely noticed what he ate, savouring the excellent wines in a contemplative fashion that discouraged people from addressing him. Evan Cassandra, who appeared especially determined to flirt with him this evening, eventually conceded defeat.

  Anxious to explain to Lord Bevan the precise nature of the malevolent acts directed against his niece, Sebastian’s opportunity came only after the port had been lingered over for an inordinate amount of time. Lady Bevan attempted to liven up proceedings when the gentlemen re-entered the drawing-room with some music and Sebastian seized his chance to join Bevan in his library.

  With the door closed to discourage those who might otherwise seek them out, Sebastian prepared his lordship for a shock. Commencing with Abbey’s first approaching him, but deliberately keeping the circumstances of that meeting vague, he outlined the whole of Abbey’s concerns. To say Lord Bevan appeared stunned would be a gross understatement. He was completely shocked, turned a ghostly shade of white and was quite unable to speak for a full two minutes. Moving to a console table, Sebastian poured substantial measures of brandy for them both, pressed Bevan’s glass between his slack fingers and waited for him to recover his power of speech.

  “Do you mean to tell me this has been going on for months and she didn’t see fit to enlighten me?” He downed his brandy in one and handed the glass to Sebastian for a refill. “My God, when I consider the danger…of what could have happened if fortune hadn’t favoured her.” He thumped his clenched fist on the arm of his chair. “My poor darling, when I think what agonies she’s already had to endure.”

  “Fortune certainly hasn’t favoured her.”

  “Who could possibly wish her harm? And, more to the point, why did she not feel she could confide in me?”

  “That is a question only she can answer. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say it was because she didn’t want to believe anything actually was happening to her, at least not at first. By stretching her imagination she was able to brush the separate incidents off as misfortunes because that’s what she wanted to believe. I also think she dreaded losing her freedom even more than she feared for her personal wellbeing.”

  “Perhaps, but to confide in a complete stranger…why would she do that? Have I wronged her to such a degree that she no longer has faith in me?” Bevan rubbed his face in his hands, appearing truly distressed. “I’ve moved heaven and earth to secure her future, to the extent I’ve neglected my own concerns, my family even. Don’t imagine I’m complaining. I wouldn’t want you to think my duty is a burden. I’ve helped Abbey to prepare for her future out of compassion for her singular situation. It wasn’t only a duty but a pleasure to do my best to see her happily established, and to ensure the duchy remains in good shape. My family has done everything in its power to make her responsibilities rest as lightly as possible on her shoulders.” Lord Bevan stared fixedly at Sebastian. “She can’t possibly believe I have anything other than her best interests at heart.”

  “I think she wanted to get to the bottom of this mess without worrying you. She heard of my reputation for solving mysteries and approached me. I don’t believe for a moment she doubts your integrity. She loves and respects you, but feels she has caused enough disruption in your lives already.”

  “Perhaps she didn’t confide in me because she thought I might be involved in the pl
ot.” Bevan looked totally defeated and a good ten years older as the thought struck home. “After all, if she dies then I would inherit the bulk of her estate.”

  “She doesn’t believe that for a moment,” Sebastian told him, firm conviction in his tone. “But she is aware of the sacrifices you’ve made because of her and dreads earning your bad opinion.”

  “That will never happen.”

  Sebastian spread his hands. “Not only does she not suspect you, but she refused to believe anyone else close to her can be responsible either. She’s hopelessly naïve and trusts them all implicitly.”

  Lord Bevan fixed Sebastian with a sapient gaze. “And so your arrival here wasn’t a coincidence at all.”

  “I regret the necessity to deceive you, but to gain further intelligence I thought it would be advantageous to see the likely culprits together, in her company. I was intent upon travelling to my hunting box this week anyway and Lady Abigail told me you would all be gathered here. It seemed too good an opportunity to ignore, especially as I believe the dangers are only likely to pick up pace now your niece has started to appear in society and is generally supposed to be thinking in terms of matrimony.”

  “I see. And I presume you are only confiding in me now because you suspect Abbey’s fall down the stairs this evening wasn’t an accident?”

  “I know it wasn’t.” Sebastian briefly explained about the loosened heel. “I also know the persons who wish to see her dead are becoming more desperate by the day. They are quite ruthlessly determined and, as Lady Abigail is now being openly courted by more than one gentleman and could marry at any time, passing her fortune into the hands of her new husband in the process, they’re stepping up their campaign.”