“No. Remain here. If the grooms or Mr. Irvine turn up, let them know my direction. But tell no one else.”
“Right, Your Grace.”
Andrew nudged his horse’s flanks and rode on. Had he made the right decision? What else could he do?
Chapter Twenty
Exhausted and frightened, Barbara clung on to sleep. Jenny hugged the small, warm body, all her senses alert. William had given up trying to peer out of the tiny dusty window, and sagged back on the floor, silenced by the shock he’d experienced. One tended to forget how young he was, he was such a force of nature, appearing so confident, when of course, he wasn’t. She loved both children so much, they might have been her own. Had she made the right decision? Should she have attempted to reach the butler, or the housekeeper? Her first instinct was to get them away. With the attacker following on William’s heels, she’d been afraid he might lie in wait amid the copse of limes that bordered the carriage drive, and attack them before they reached the house. Or even in the house itself. The man must be mad, what could he possibly gain from such violence? Another thought struck her, might he now pose a danger to the duke?
She breathed deeply to calm herself. The children had missed luncheon. They would be hungry. How long could she keep them here? If they weren’t found soon, they must risk emerging into the open and make their way back to the house. Perhaps the gamekeeper would have returned and could help them. They’d send word and wait there. But what if this fiend was lurking somewhere nearby?
Jenny wasn’t sure when she first heard it. The sheep bleated and alerted her. A horseman. She daren’t move. If she woke Barbara, the little girl could give them away. William heard it too, the rhythmic thud of a horse cantering across the meadow. She held a finger to her lips, and William, his face as pale as snow, nodded.
One rider. A clatter of a horse’s hooves on the stones outside, then the thump of someone dismounting. Please God let it be His Grace. Would he be angry with her? Had she failed to take proper care of the children? She didn’t care. Just let it be him. Her eyes filled with tears and a lump formed in her throat. The rusty hinges squeaked as the door opened.
“Miss Harrismith? William?”
Hot relief swept through her from head to toe. She smiled at William.
William leapt up to lower the ladder. “We’re up here, Father.”
In a minute, the duke was with them crowding the small space.
“Thank God.” He dropped to his knees and held his arms out to William. The boy needed no urging, he moved silently into them, and his father folded them around him, one hand on his head. “It’s all right now, son.”
William’s shoulders shook. “Mr. Irvine is dead, Father.”
“No, William, Irvine is quite well, apart from a headache. He is out searching for you.” His smiling eyes met Jenny’s. “Well done, Miss Harrismith,” he said quietly.
Barbara woke. “Father, can we go home? I don’t like this place, it’s dirty, and I’m hungry.”
“Yes, sweetheart.” The duke’s voice broke.
To see the strong, honorable man brought low, made Jenny’s eyes flood with tears. She searched for her handkerchief, plucked it from a pocket and blew her nose.
The duke came to his feet as a rider approached. He pulled his pistol from beneath his coat.
William’s eyes widened.
Barbara wriggled. “Father…”
“Hush, poppet. We have to be as quiet as a mouse,” Jenny whispered.
“Mice squeak,” Barbara observed.
The duke crossed to the window and peered out. “It’s Irvine.”
Jenny took a deep shuddering breath and smiled at the anxious children. “We’ll be just in time for luncheon. I’m quite peckish.”
“I’m hungry too,” Barbara said crossly. “And my bonnet is squashed.”
“Let me put it on, sweetheart,” Jenny said. “I’ll fix it up nicely when we get home.” Her hands stilled at the sound of another horse galloping across the meadow, scattering the bleating sheep.
William turned from the window. “It’s Jem, Father!”
“Good.” The duke held out his arms to Barbara. “Let’s go down and greet the gentlemen, shall we?”
*
With the men’s pistols handily placed, tucked into their trousers, and their vigilant gaze on the woods, they rode back to the stables.
A crowd had gathered: the footmen, grooms, and the butler, stood around in groups. They cheered as Andrew, holding Barbara within his arm, left hand on the reins, guided Storm Cloud into the stable yard. Behind him, Jem rode with Miss Harrismith, while Irvine followed with William.
Ben hurried over to help them dismount. “I’m relieved you’re all safe, Your Grace.”
“Has anyone else returned, Ben?”
“Only the baroness. Her ladyship was most upset. She wishes to see you.”
“Let’s get the children back to the schoolroom, Miss Harrismith.” Andrew gestured to the red-haired footman. “Come with us, Jeremy, return to your post outside the door. Forrester? Inform Cook, the children, and the governess who is the heroine of the hour, shall require a hearty meal.”
Miss Harrismith looked slightly flustered as she took the children to the nursery to wash and change their soiled clothing. Andrew found he wasn’t ready yet to leave them, and helped with their clothes, tying Barbara’s ribbons, and buttoning her shoes. The little girl patiently held out her small foot. “We don’t have to go back to that nasty place, do we, Father?”
“Never, sweetheart,” he said huskily.
Miss Harrismith met his gaze as she helped William into his coat. It wasn’t over. He still didn’t know who this monster prowling the estate was. Where were Ivo and Raymond? He intended to find this man and when he did….
In the schoolroom, he took Miss Harrismith aside. “I’d like to learn more about what happened. I’ll return as soon as I can.”
She nodded briskly, only her tear-stained cheeks gave away any emotion. “As you wish, Your Grace.”
It astounded him how she’d quickly returned to her composed self, something he’d begun to suspect was a way of hiding her true feelings.
Greta waylaid him on the stairs. “I expected you to come to me. They told me you arrived back from London at ten o’clock.”
“There was another attack on William, Greta.”
“Was there? I heard the shots while I was riding, I declare I almost lost my seat! Did you find the man?”
“No. Where were you?”
“I was returning to the house.”
“Alone?”
“Yes, I—”
“Where is Ivo?”
“Ivo rode off in a bad temper, he might be anywhere.” She waved an impatient hand. “All these questions! It is your cousin I wish to complain about.”
Andrew gritted his teeth. “Oh?”
“Mr. Forsythe accosted me. We had dismounted to take in a pretty spot by the river. I didn’t expect him to pounce on me. He… he tried to seduce me!”
“What happened precisely?”
She placed a hand on her bosom. “He tried to remove my clothing.” She stared at him, her mouth thinning. “You don’t seem particularly concerned, Harrow.”
“What happened after you refused him?”
“He mounted and rode away, and I came back to the house. I was completely unnerved. I thought he might be the shooter. I have no idea where he is now. I hope he’s left the estate. I refuse to set eyes on him again.”
“I’m sorry Raymond took such liberties, Greta. I need to find him. Excuse me.”
Andrew descended the staircase before she could utter another word. He strode back to the stables where Irvine waited, a bandage on his head. Neither Raymond nor Ivo had returned.
“You are coming with me? Shouldn’t you rest, Irvine?”
“I can rest when I’m dead, Your Grace. I want the man who did this to me, and I want him even more because he tried to hurt William.”
�
��Glad to have you.” Andrew instructed the stable staff to take precautions against any possible trouble. Once he’d saddled a horse, checked both pistols, he and Irvine rode out searching for the two missing men.
After they crossed the lane that skirted Castlebridge and headed east, Raymond appeared riding across a field. His cousin hailed Andrew and rode up. “Have either of you seen the baroness?”
“Why?” Andrew asked coolly.
Raymond was red faced and flustered. “The darndest thing. We’d ended up alone together, because her brother had taken himself off somewhere. After dismounting at the river, she welcomed a kiss.” His eyes flew to Andrew’s face. “I accept you’re angry with me, Andrew, but I hope you can understand. She wound me in a silken net, beguiled me.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t help myself. When she raised her face to mine, I had to kiss her, but then she suddenly flew into a pet. Called me an abuser of women! Demanded I assist her to mount. Then she rode off into the trees, saying she was going to find Ivo and have him deal with me.”
“According to Greta, who has returned to the house, you tried to take off her clothes and ravage her.”
Raymond gaped. “Deuce it! I didn’t. I swear on my sainted aunt! I admit to having behaved appallingly where you’re concerned. That I doubted the depth of your feelings for each other, is really no excuse. But to have ravished her like a common trollop? I wouldn’t,” his voice broke. “You must believe me!” He swiped off his hat and raked his hair. “I’ll leave. I’m deeply sorry, Andrew.”
“We’ll discuss this later, Ray. I need to find Ivo. Someone tried to kill William. This time they made no attempt to make it look like an accident. They shot Irvine.”
Astonished, Raymond turned to Irvine. “It’s happened again then?” He paled, alarm in his eyes. “You can’t think it’s me?”
“Where did you go after leaving Greta?”
Raymond waved his hand in an easterly direction. “I was searching for her. I was afraid she’d get lost, and I wanted to have it out with her before she came back here and accused me.”
Andrew nodded at Irvine who held a gun in his hand.
Raymond stared at the pistol. “Is Irvine going to shoot me?”
“Irvine will escort you back to the house. We shall speak, later.” Andrew turned his horse’s head and rode away.
Raymond called something after him. Andrew wheeled the horse around.
“I saw Herr Ven Bremen riding toward the house from the river,” his cousin yelled again, before Irvine gestured with the gun for him to move on.
Andrew struggled to believe that Raymond was behind these attacks. Was it Ivo? But what motive might he have? Strathairn had been sure the German was not connected with any dissident groups; indeed he rarely returned to Germany. Ivo and Greta had been staying with Andrew when Winslow was shot in London. And it was doubtful he could have killed Lord Stonebrook either. Then there was the attempt on William’s life in the tower, while Ivo was supposedly in Oxford. Despite all this, and the lack of any discernable reason for such violence, Andrew still found himself suspecting the man. There was something slightly unhinged about Ivo. He should have thrown him out long ago.
Andrew rode along the river for an hour but found no sign of him. Perhaps Ivo had returned to the house.
He rode into the stable yard as a big, fair haired man leapt down from his phaeton.
Andrew dismounted and hurried over to greet him. “Strathairn, the sight of you is good for sore eyes!”
“Thought I’d come down and see how you and Irvine go on,” the marquess said, striding over to shake Andrew’s hand.
“I’m very glad you did,” Andrew warmly shook it. “There’s been another attack. Irvine was injured, but he isn’t badly hurt. He holds my cousin, Raymond, under guard. I’m about to search for Von Bremen.” He turned to Ben who hurried out from the stables. “Any sign of the German gentleman?”
“No, Your Grace.”
“I must go and find him,” Andrew said. “Forgive me if I don’t have time to offer you a whiskey.”
“Saddle me a horse, I’m coming with you,” Strathairn said.
A reluctant smile lifted Andrew’s mouth. “I was counting on that. I’ll send for a couple of rifles.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Jenny waited in the schoolroom for word from His Grace. She tried to keep her mind on the story she’d asked William to read to them, but she found it difficult to concentrate. William did too. He kept fidgeting and losing his place. Finally, he put the book down. “I have read all these books! Jenny, can we go to the library and find another on horses?”
“I will go later. Your father ordered us to remain here.”
Barbara had become fretful and needed a nap, so she took the children back to the nursery where Mary was sorting clothes.
Jenny settled Barbara down and handed William another picture book. He pushed it away looking miserable. He had been through so much, she wanted to comfort him, and it wouldn’t take her but a quarter of an hour to find a book to please him.
“All right. I’ll go down to the library. But you must stay here, please. I shan’t be long.” She expected the duke to be away from the house, but she changed her dress and tidied herself before the mirror.
Satisfied with her appearance, although her face was far too pale, she left Mary in charge, instructed George not to allow William to leave the nursery, or anyone to enter except His Grace, then went downstairs.
Was the duke still out looking for the gunman? Was it his cousin? How dreadful for him. A shiver passed through her. Would he be in danger? A footman admitted her into the empty library. As the familiar smells of old tomes greeted her, she searched the shelves and removed two books she found on horses, one particular one was on Arab horses which William was sure to enjoy. Pleased with her find, she returned by way of the servants’ stairs, the books clasped to her chest. On the next floor, she found Von Bremen waiting.
“Ah, there you are, Miss Harrismith.”
She clutched the banister, suddenly afraid. “What do you want?” She tried to sound indifferent, but her nerves were too on edge.
He flicked her chin, and she stepped back shocked by the intimacy of such a gesture. “Still sticking that out at me,” he said. “We are going on a little journey.”
“I am going nowhere with you.” His odd expression scared her. She moved to pass him. “I am needed in the nursery!”
Suddenly, there was a gun in his hand. “Downstairs.” He waved the gun. “Go.”
“It was you?” Jenny stiffened with fear and stumbled down a step. How to escape him? She opened her mouth to scream.
A hand brutally covered her mouth. “I wouldn’t do that. I’ll shoot my way out of here. Be sensible, miss governess. Come with me quietly and no one will get hurt.” He gave her a shove.
She feared he meant it. They continued down the stairs. “It was you who tried to kill William?”
“I’ve nothing against the boy. It’s his father I hate. As a result of the meddling Vienna Congress my family lost much of their lands when the country borders were moved. I was willing to overlook it if he married Greta. But he was losing interest in her.” He prodded Jenny hard in the back with the gun. “Because he’d set eyes on you, Miss Harrismith.”
She dismissed it as the ramblings of a mad man, but it made her no less afraid of him. “But why hurt William?”
“If the duke lost his heir, he’d be keen to marry to replace him. And there was Greta who would comfort him and persuade him how much he needed her. A man in grief is easily manipulated. Greta’s beauty would do the rest. A visit to his bedchamber in the night, and before long, it would happen. You were a problem though. It was my intention to seduce you, but you only had eyes for him.”
“You must be mad.” She turned to face him. “The duke is my employer.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” He shoved her. “Keep moving!”
“What are you suggesting? I am merely the c
hildren’s governess.” They were almost to the kitchens. Perhaps there she could find someone to take a message to the duke. His gun prodded her in the back again.
“He hasn’t bedded you, yet,” he said conversationally. “I would know if he had. You are an innocent, Miss Harrismith. Your eyes look through me like glass.”
“What good am I to you? Let me go. I promise I’ll say nothing.” The kitchen noises reached them as he motioned her down.
“While I’ve got you, His Grace won’t set the hounds on me. If you’re good, I’ll let you live.”
Jenny’s breath shortened. A kitchen maid cut up vegetables while another was at the stove. They shrank back at the sight of Von Bremen’s gun. “Not a word,” he said to them. “Or I’ll come back and deal with you.”
He shoved Jenny out into the kitchen garden causing her to stumble. “My horse is over in those trees. Quickly!”
They made their way past the vegetable beds to the gate in the ivy-covered wall. He leaned around her and pulled it open. “Out.”
They were in the open. Would a gardener see them? But there was no one around. “The maids will raise the alarm,” she said.
“I trust they will.”
He wanted them to be found. The man was mad. In among the trees a saddled horse was cropping grass. Von Bremen untied the reins and scooped Jenny up onto the saddle. The horse shied nervously as he vaulted up behind her. He was wiry and strong. One arm encircled her waist as he slapped the reins and kicked the animal. They took off toward the woods.
“You won’t escape.” She tried to pull her gown and petticoat down over her legs.
“I have a plan,” he said in her ear. “I’ve been studying the terrain for just this purpose. One should always be prepared, yes?”
“I think your plan, whatever it is, is doomed to failure, Von Bremen.”
His hand painfully squeezed her waist. “You’d better be careful what you say. I am not nice when I’m angry.”
“What about your sister?” she asked, hoping to distract him.
“Greta will return to Germany, disgusted with me, no doubt.”
Regency Scandals and Scoundrels Collection Page 62