Misleading a Duke

by A. S. Fenichel

  Waiting for Geb’s response, Faith shrugged. “Mother and Father have had their way in every other aspect of my life. They get a daughter who is a duchess; I want this one day just for Nick and I to be perfectly at ease and happy. If Mr. Arafa will permit it, Aaru is where I’d like to marry.”

  Geb leaped from his chair and pulled Faith into a brotherly hug. He swung her around and landed her back on her feet. “It shall be the greatest event of the year. Whatever you want, we shall see to it. Kosey,” he called toward the door. “Get parchment and ink, we have lists to make.”

  Nick was beside her a moment later. He leaned down and whispered, “This is what you want?”

  Looking up into his eyes, she realized she should have consulted him before making the request. Geb’s enthusiasm might make it awkward to change their minds after the fact. “I’m sorry. Is this a bad idea?”

  “Not at all. If you want to marry in the gardens here or in Hyde Park, I shall be proud to be the man standing at the front waiting for you.” Nick kissed her cheek.

  “Will you come with me to tell my parents?” A prick of nerves rumbled low in her gut and she worried that she’d made a mistake.

  “Not to worry, my love. They will be elated, or they will not receive an invitation. Either way, you and I will be spending the rest of our lives together, and that is all I want.” He moved them toward the sitting area where Kosey and Geb made a list with the help of Mercy and Aurora, who also talked about stopping in to see Poppy on the ride home.

  Faith couldn’t wait to tell her other friend her news, and she slid into the space between the ladies on the divan and joined the chatter.

  When they finally rose to leave Geb’s home, Faith’s heart soared with curiosity and excitement over her future.

  Nick walked them to the door. “I will call in a few days, when this business is over.”

  Aurora and Mercy had made their curtsies and walked to the carriage, but Faith stayed behind. “I forgot to ask one thing, Nick, and it’s a critical one.”

  Closing the distance between them, he took her hand and kissed it. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you need not look so grave, Faith.”

  “If you disagree, it might be a problem between us. Still, I think it best to get these things out in the open now rather than find out later when you are stuck with me for the rest of your life.” She pulled her hand away and gnawed on her thumbnail.

  Taking her hand back, he kissed the thumb and smiled. “Just tell me.”

  Pretending she was brave like Poppy, she lifted her chin. “I have always dreamed of having a lot of children. Now, I realize that is not always possible, but it is still my dream. We never discussed if you like children.”

  If it was possible for him to be more handsome, his smile did the trick. “I do like children. My sister’s children and I are very close. I’ll not have you risking your health, but we shall have as many as you like within reason.”

  Unable to remember a better day in her entire life, Faith thought she might burst with happiness at any moment. She threw her arms around Nick’s neck and nearly toppled them both.

  Nick righted them and his cane dropped once again.

  Kosey cleared his throat from his post by the door and turned away.

  “You have made me very happy today, Nicholas Ellsworth. I hope you do not regret matching yourself to a Wallflower.” She kissed his cheek with a wet smack.

  His laugh rolled and bounced around the wood-lined foyer. “If this afternoon with you, and then with your friends, making plans, was an indication of what is to come, I think we shall have an animated life.”

  “It shall never be dull, that is certain.” Faith stepped back, full of bliss as she had never known before.

  “No, never that.” He feigned horror with a hand to his heart and wide eyes.

  “You’ll tell me when you’ve obtained the license?”

  He bowed. “You will be the first to know.”

  It was hard to leave him. If she could have crawled inside his chest and stayed safely with him always, she would have done so. With one last look into those stunning blue eyes, she turned and joined her friends in the carriage.

  As soon as she was seated, John put up the step, closed the door, and started them back to London.

  “You look extremely happy,” Mercy said, wrapping her arm around Faith’s shoulders and giving her a squeeze.

  Faith glanced from Aurora to Mercy. Trepidation lurked in Aurora’s eyes. She still had her doubts about any of them marrying. Her golden-blond hair was perfectly coiffed and her gown had not a single wrinkle. To a stranger she would look content as a widow. However, Faith saw the pain and fear lurking in her friend’s eyes with all the scars left by her late husband.

  Aurora hoped Bertram Sherbourn was rotting in hell, where he belonged. “It’s going to be fine, Aurora. He loves me and is a good and kind man.” She hesitated to bring up the other subject she’d been holding tight to. “You know, he has been through something similar to you, Aurora. Perhaps if you and he spoke, you both might benefit from it.”

  Her composure shattered, Aurora appeared ready to jump from the moving carriage. “I cannot see how rehashing terrible things does anyone any good.”

  A long sigh came from Mercy. “Of course you do, Aurora. We Wallflowers have done our fair share of baring our souls, and it always helps. You are just afraid. I think Faith’s idea has merit and you might consider it rather than tossing it aside.”

  Aurora bit her lip. “I will consider it.”

  Faith leaned forward and patted Aurora’s knee.

  More relaxed, Aurora said, “I’m glad you found him worthy, Faith. I’m also so happy for you. I can see the joy he brings you. However, should you need to get away from him, should things change, you can always come home to West Lane.”

  Faith knew she meant well, but the notion was preposterous. Nick would never hurt her. She tried to lighten the mood. “Did you give that speech to Poppy when she married Rhys?”

  One eyebrow rose over Aurora’s right eye. “Rhys is my brother. I would flay him alive should he behave as an animal. However, Poppy knows she can find refuge with me for as long as I live.”

  Mercy pushed her spectacles up onto her nose and smiled. Her green eyes sparkled with mischief. “As I shall never find anyone who would marry me, you may provide me safe harbor for as long as you can stand me, Aurora.”

  “Why do you say that, Mercy? You are lovely and accomplished. Any man would be lucky to have you for a wife, if that’s what you want.” Faith hated the stigma put on her friend for things not of her own doing. It wasn’t Mercy’s fault her parents had died and left only a small allowance due to the entailments on their home.

  “Ha.” Mercy wrapped a curl of red hair around her finger and twirled it. “They don’t seem to know that. Besides, I like my life. I come and go as I please. My aunt is happy to be rid of me, though it’s nice that she still checks in from time to time to make certain I am well. Everything is as it should be. Of course, should Aurora ever remarry, I shall have to find employment as someone’s nanny or lady’s companion.”

  “Remarry!” Aurora screamed. “That is one thing I shall never do. What possible reason could I have to strap myself to another man? No. Being a widow suits me just fine.”

  Faith wasn’t certain that was true, but she kept her opinion to herself. There was no sense arguing with Aurora once she’d set her mind to something.

  The carriage bumped and shifted.

  Faith grabbed the window to keep from falling on Mercy. “What on earth.”

  The horses brayed and John yelled before there was more jostling and then silence.

  “John?” Aurora called to the coachman.

  Joseph Fouché’s face appeared in the window. Handsome, dripping from the rain and oozing evil, he grinned at them. “I’m afraid your driver
is unable to answer at the moment. My man will drive you home, where you will instruct your servants to remain passive or I shall kill every one of them before taking the strap to you ladies. I’m sure Lady Faith can confirm that I mean what I say.”

  Heart in her throat, Faith thought she might be sick. “What do you want?”

  He opened the door and leaned in. “I have what I want for the moment. Your fiancé will provide the rest. May I say what a pleasure it is to see you again, my lady. Perhaps when we arrive back at West Lane you might introduce me to your friends.”

  Faith didn’t know what to say.

  Joseph’s smirk was nauseating. He closed the carriage door.

  “Go!” Joseph yelled up to his driver, who immediately snapped the horses into a trot.

  Out the carriage window lay John, with his face down in the grass.

  “John.” Aurora covered her mouth. “Do you think he’s dead?” She appealed to Faith.

  “I don’t know. Joseph Fouché was the man in charge when Nick was tortured. He would have no guilt over killing anyone. He’ll keep us alive to get whatever it is he wants from Nick.” Faith shuddered at the thought of again being under the thumb of such evil, and this time without Nick or even Charles to protect her.

  “What do we do?” Mercy’s eyes were wide and she searched the carriage for some answer, which might be hidden within.

  “He knows where we live, which means he’s been watching us. He may already have men holding the servants hostage. All we can do is go along and hope Nick has and is willing to give Joseph what he wants.”

  Mercy stilled. “Would he withhold some item when our lives are in jeopardy? When you might be harmed?”

  A dozen scenarios flew through Faith’s head and many of them did not end well. “I believe with all my heart that Nick will do everything in his power to keep us safe. More than that…” She shrugged.

  “And you intend to marry a man who lives this way, Faith. Will you constantly be in danger?” Aurora scolded, her brows pulled together.

  None of the danger mattered. She loved Nick and would risk anything for him. However, the idea that this might continue after they had children was something she would address some other time. “This is all related to whatever took Nick out of England recently. Once this matter is at an end, our lives will be less interesting. Besides, wars don’t last forever.”

  “You must really love him,” Mercy said with more amazement than Faith had ever heard from her.

  “I do, but we can put that aside until we find a way out of this mess.”

  “I shall not have this man, whatever his name is, harming my servants.” The fire was back in Aurora’s voice.

  “No. We must do what we can to get them out of West Lane.” Faith had to devise a plan while they waited for rescue. “It will be a while before we reach home. Perhaps we can think of something.”

  Chapter 23

  Tipton opened the front door, his expression strained.

  Each Wallflower was held by a large man, who pushed them into the foyer. Two more henchmen stood guard inside, one holding a pistol against Tipton’s ribs. “I’m sorry, my ladies.” Tipton’s lips pulled into a thin line.

  Faith had been right to think the West Lane house was under attack before they arrived home. Joseph Fouché didn’t strike her as a man who left things to chance. The foyer table was in pieces and the servants’ door, which normally blended into the woodwork, was cracked and opened. “Was anyone harmed, Tipton?”

  “We have not been injured, my lady.” Tipton narrowed his eyes on the man gripping Faith’s arm.

  “Put them in that parlor, then two of you stand guard outside the windows.” Joseph pointed to the ladies’ parlor.

  The guards shoved them inside and closed the door.

  Tipton walked inside a moment later. “I have been instructed to inform you that none shall be harmed if you stay in this room without making a fuss.”

  Aurora rushed over and whispered, “Tipton, John was hurt and perhaps worse. They left him on the side of the road out of London. Do you think there is a way to send someone to help him?”

  Normally stoic, the butler chewed his lip. “They have not noted the kitchen boy. He can ride a horse well enough for the task. I’ll try to send him.”

  “Should we send Benny to get help here in London?” Mercy asked.

  “We cannot leave John lying, perhaps dying, in the rain. Send him to John. We shall fend for ourselves.” Aurora’s voice cracked but she held her head high as a queen.

  Faith leaned in. “Tell Benny not to come back here. John is closer to Aaru. He can get help there and tell His Grace what has happened.”

  “Can we send a note to Marsden? Surely Rhys can help.” Mercy wrapped her arms around her slim torso.

  “I will do what I can, my lady.” Tipton exited, with the guard outside the door glowering down at him.

  “Where did he find so many giant men to work for him?” Mercy sat on the chaise like a statue.

  “He has a good deal of funds from Napoleon, I would imagine.” Faith sat next to her. “I’m sorry to have dragged the two of you into this mess.”

  “It seems to me your fiancé is to blame, not you.” Aurora crossed her arms and sat in the chair adjacent to them.

  It was strange for their feminine retreat from the outside world to have become their prison. This was the place where they always gathered to gossip and catch up. Ever since they came home from school, Faith had cherished this room. Now Aurora glared with anger over Nick. Tears pressed at the back of Faith’s eyes.

  Mercy took a deep breath that made her seem frail rather than willowy. “Aurora, you can’t blame His Grace and Faith, this is not your fault. Whatever the Duke of Breckenridge is involved in must be quite serious if it would put this Fouché fellow to so much trouble. I just hope whatever England is getting from this is worth it.”

  It was amazing the way Mercy could always see to the heart of a thing without letting fear or other emotions cloud her judgment.

  “Who in the name of Zeus are you?” Poppy’s voice rang out from the foyer. “Where is Tipton? Don’t you touch me.”

  “Oh Lord. Poppy.” Aurora stood so fast she nearly toppled her chair. “We said we’d stop on our way home and tell her what happened with Breckenridge.”

  The door burst open and one of those gruff-looking guards shoved Poppy inside. “You stay in there with the others while I find Fouché.” There was no sign of a French accent, only the rough tones of a poor Londoner. Joseph must pay a fortune for His Majesty’s loyal subjects to be working for him.

  Her russet dress had a tear at the hem and a smudge of mud just below the breast. “What in the name of Hades is going on here?”

  Faith ran to her. “Did they hurt you?”

  Poppy’s narrowed eyes grew wide, then she followed Faith’s gaze to her torn dress. “Oh no. I tripped up the stairs to the carriage and didn’t think it necessary to return to the house for a change since I was only coming here to see you three. Then I tripped up the steps here and some mud found my bodice.” As Poppy was often less than graceful, she was not bothered by these events. “Who are they and why was I tossed into the parlor like so much baggage?”

  “They work for a French spy who wants something that Nicholas has,” Mercy said in an unworried tone.

  Poppy walked with Faith to the divan and sat. “What does he have?”

  “We don’t know.” Aurora returned to her chair, the only sign of worry the way she toyed with a string of blue thread along the piped cushion.

  “What does it have to do with us?” Poppy’s tone grew conspiratorial and she leaned in. Her dark eyelashes framed bright blue eyes filled with interest rather than fear.

  Mercy flounced onto the chaise and pushed her spectacles up her nose. “Nothing really, except that Faith is engaged to Nicholas
and I think we are to be used as bait or ransom.”

  Fouché stormed into the parlor and stopped short at the sight of a fourth Wallflower. “Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?” His thick French accent did nothing to smooth over his state of distress.

  With a cock of her head, Poppy examined the spy without response. Then, slowly, she stood and propped her fists on her hips. Leveling her gaze on Fouché, she said, “I am the Countess of Marsden, these are my friends, and you now have a ticking clock, Frenchman.”

  Faith’s heart pounded with the truth, though she was not at all certain that boded well for the West Lane household. “You had better write to His Grace and ask for whatever it is you want, Monsieur Fouché. If this visit lasts much into the night, the Earl of Marsden will come to fetch his wife and check on his sister.” She gave Aurora a pointed look.

  “Damn all of you royal scum. I should kill the four of you just for the sheer joy of it. Your heads rolling on the plush rug would be no hardship for me.” His handsome face twisted with desire that turned Faith’s stomach.

  Mercy sighed. “You will never get whatever Breckenridge has if one tiny hair on any of our heads is harmed. You know that, or you would have done your worst on the road. Whatever he has is important, or why go to so much trouble?”

  He strode across the room, the high polish of his boots catching the candlelight. “You are smarter than I expected. Though I suppose I should have known Lady Faith’s friends would be clever. You are the orphan, if my information serves me. No parents or money to speak of. Kept in good standing by a maiden aunt who had had enough of you and passed you off to Lady Radcliff.”

  Keeping her expression passive, only the other Wallflowers would have noticed the hurt in Mercy’s eyes. She stood and curtsied. “Mercedes Heath, and nothing you have to say is important enough to me to do me any harm. I can assure you that my lack of title will not make me less valuable to His Grace, if that is where your perverse mind has led you.”

  He leaned close to her. “That mouth will get you in trouble, mademoiselle. You should mind that tongue.”