She strode closer to the duchess, taking note of the odd-looking plants. Because of her father’s penchant for herbs, Faith was well versed in many exotic floras. So it was rather disconcerting for her to find that most of these plants seemed unfamiliar. She came to a halt by one with erect, yellow-green stems and large, dark green, jagged leaves. Its startling appearance did not calm her rattled nerves. She extended a cautious finger toward it.
“I would not do that, my dear.” The duchess indicated her gloved hands and then spread her arms wide to indicate the plants. “These delicate shrubs are as deadly to the touch as they are beautiful to the sight.”
Faith quickly withdrew. “Why would you . . . ?”
“Grow poisonous plants? Like your father, I, too, have an avid interest in the effect plants have on a human body.”
“You use these for medicinal purposes then?” Faith recalled Mr. Granger mentioning his mother’s talent with herbs before her marriage to the duke.
“I use them in many ways.” The duchess disposed of her gloves and directed Faith into an adjoining drawing room with muted vertical gray-striped wallpaper. Tasseled cords held back black silk curtains. The room was furnished with dark wood and was accented by an equally dark marble chimneypiece.
The duchess strode briskly toward an alcove with bow windows and sat on a chair that had brass inlays and a cane seat. She gestured for Faith to take the chair opposite her.
Faith sat, hoping Morton would join them soon.
Today, her hostess wore a richly embroidered black gown. A large emerald brooch with gold fittings held the ends of her gray shawl on one shoulder, the only bright color to break the monotony of dark shades in the room.
A maid came in with tea, laid it on a table before them, and left. While the door was open, Faith spied Mrs. Hutchinson in the conservatory. Good. Her companion stayed within calling distance. Faith would give her a hug later for that thoughtful gesture. Tension released its grip on her neck muscles.
The duchess poured. “So, you wished to ride with Morton. I am happy you are making an effort to get to know the duke.”
Morton showed his mother Faith’s note? She would speak to him about that indiscretion. “Will the duke be long?”
“He is away from home at present.”
“Away? But it was he who invited me to come today.”
“I invited you on my son’s behalf.”
The import of that statement hit her. She had been tricked into coming here. Why? To coerce her into accepting Morton once and for all? The duchess might not realize it, but she no longer had the power to force Faith to do anything.
Her father supported her. That reminder calmed her agitated nerves and gave her the courage to stand and curtsy. “As the duke is not here, I shall return home, your grace. I will not detain you further.”
“Sit down!” the duchess said.
Faith sat. Then she seethed at being ordered around like a hound called to heel.
The duchess smiled, obviously pleased by Faith’s instant response. “I thought this visit might give us an opportunity to become better acquainted.” She gave Faith a long studied look. “You, my dear, have caught both my sons’ attention. For Granger, too, is enamored of you, and he is particular in his tastes.”
Faith clenched her hands, then consciously relaxed her fingers, though her pulse kept pounding. “My interest, your grace, is aligned strictly with the duke.”
“Of course. As it should be. Though Granger is a handsome devil, is he not? What maid would not be drawn to him? As for my younger son, well, what can one say?” She shrugged. “Morton is . . . Morton.” A curl of her lip intimated humor, but the emotion did not reach her eyes. “His character is entirely derived from his father.”
“I find Morton pleasant.” The comment pleased neither of them. She had not come here to defend Morton. Faith took a breath for courage. She might not be free to tell the truth, but she had no intention of cowering. It was time this woman learned that she could no longer browbeat Faith’s family. “I have had a long talk with my father, your grace.”
“Good. It is clear he has finally made you see sense. You might find it hard to understand now, my dear, but parents do know what is best for their children.”
Faith bit her lip, choking back her anger.
“You have hardly touched your scone.” The duchess was playing the role of polite hostess now she had gained her way. “Now, tell me how your father persuaded you to consider Morton’s suit.”
The question hung in the air. Marshalling her words, Faith pasted on a smile as insincere as her hostess’s. “My father told me about his problem with the missing buckles, your grace, and of your family’s generous offer of assistance in retrieving them.”
The Duchess of Morton studied her with a narrowed gaze.
Faith took a deep breath. “I suggested to my father that the best way for him to deal with this matter was to confess all to an agent of the regent.”
“Did he agree?”
Faith could tell that the duchess was concerned about Mr. Granger’s role in the events being made public. That worry she could quell.
“The agent knows that you tried to assist my father. Now, though we are most grateful, your and Mr. Granger’s assistance is no longer required.” In for a penny. And Mrs. Hutchinson was only a shout away. “As for Morton’s offer, I regret that my answer is no. Although he is a most acceptable match, and I am honored, I wish to—”
“What you wish for is of little consequence,” the duchess said. “You will not balk at this match, miss, especially now.” The woman’s cheeks suffused with high color as she sat forward, gripping her armchair until her knuckles showed white. “You are promised to my son, and you will live up to your father’s word. The matter has been agreed to.”
“Do not take this to heart. The duke is one of the most eligible bachelors in all of England. He will not have the least difficulty finding a wife who suits him better.”
“But my dear girl,” the Duchess of Morton said, sounding earnest, “my son only wants you.”
“I believe you are mistaken, your grace.” Faith tried to remain calm. “In my dealings with him, I have not seen any indication that Morton is enamored of me at all. I think you might be mistaken that he wishes this connection so strongly.”
“Morton? His wishes are of little consequence.”
“Then why do you insist on this match?”
“Because Charles wants it.”
“Mr. Granger?” Faith was completely nonplussed. “But it is not he who requested my hand.”
“Child, what difference does it make whom you marry? If you are worried that you will be stuck with that sapling son of mine, Morton, put your mind to rest. Once the match is made, you will find Charles more to your taste in the bedchamber, and that set of events would suit my interest very well.”
Faith could not believe what she was hearing. She jumped up. “I have said what I came to say. This betrothal is ended. Good day, your grace.” She hurried to the door, terrified that Mr. Granger might appear any moment.
“Wait!”
Faith jerked the conservatory door open and ran out, only to stumble into Mrs. Hutchinson. She grabbed the lady’s hand and dragged her past the deadly plants and down the long twisting corridor, desperate to reach the foyer.
“My lady!” Her companion cried out as she ran alongside Faith. “Whatever is the matter?”
“We are leaving,” Faith said, neither slowing down nor releasing her hold on the woman until they were out of the house.
Once free, the lady rubbed her wrist, and Faith wondered if she had gripped her too tight. Mrs. Hutchinson opened her mouth to speak, but Faith held her hand up to indicate silence. The time for talk would be after they were out of hearing range. She fell silent and Faith waved for her c
arriage to come down the circular drive.
As she waited, her last conversation with the duchess reverberated in her head. Aside from the depraved suggestion presented by the duchess, the tail end of her words completely baffled Faith.
That set of events would suit my interest very well.
What possible interest could Faith’s liaison with Mr. Granger serve his mother? The duchess obviously loved her elder son more than Morton. Was her purpose then to see Granger happy, even at Morton’s expense? She must realize that such a liaison could lead to horrible repercussions. What if Faith became with child and the baby’s father was Granger instead of Morton?
The implication of that sank in. She glanced at the house as shock reverberated. Was that her plan? To ensure the child who inherited the dukedom was Granger’s, not Morton’s? To enact such a diabolical plot, she must actively hate her younger son.
When her carriage drew up, she said, “Please, hurry us home.”
Not waiting for her footman’s assistance, Faith dropped the steps herself and climbed inside. Mrs. Hutchinson followed and had barely seated herself before Faith knocked to signal a departure.
The leads jangled and the whip cracked. As the carriage carried them away, her view of the mansion grew blessedly smaller. It amazed Faith that people like the duchess and Mr. Granger even existed. How could they plot to betray Morton so? He was as much the duchess’s son as Mr. Granger. The two men were half-brothers. Had mother and elder son no familial feelings except for each other?
“It seems a rude manner in which to depart.” Mrs. Hutchinson’s cheeks were flushed. “Rushing out like a hoyden is hardly the way one responds to a kind invitation to tea.”
Faith ignored her companion’s muttering, fear still clogging her throat. She had come so close to being ensnared in their trap. Thank heavens her father had confessed the truth to her. If he had not, she might have found herself under Granger’s power. Faith hugged herself, relieved to be away from that monstrous house and its perverse occupants.
Finally, Mrs. Hutchinson stopped her chatter and gazed outside. Faith relished the silence. The only thing she was thankful for during that interview was Granger’s absence. He terrified her even more than his mother did.
She clasped her fingers to still their trembling. She had done the right thing by calling off the engagement. They could not force her to marry. She, too, was a duke’s offspring. No amount of shouting could change that.
“My lady,” her companion said.
“Hmm?” Faith responded, looking outside. They were traveling through a tree-lined street, heading toward Mayfair. She would be home soon.
“May we stop?” Mrs. Hutchinson asked. “I feel ill.”
Faith turned her gaze to Mrs. Hutchinson. The woman did seem pale and shaky. “Lie back. The queasiness will pass.”
“Lady Faith, I must get out now.” Mrs. Hutchinson clutched at her mouth. “Else I may soil the inside of the carriage.”
With a sigh, Faith knocked on the roof and the groom brought the conveyance to a halt. The footman jumped to the ground from the back and swung the door open.
“My companion is unwell,” Faith said, turning toward him. Only, instead of the footman, she came face to face with Mr. Granger’s grinning features. She swallowed her shock and leaped to the opposite door.
Chapter Twelve
TWO DAYS AFTER his swim with Faith, Daniel was doing a good job of learning to be a butler. He had even received a compliment from underbutler Randal last night about his wine-serving etiquette. It was now midmorning, and Daniel was sick of polishing silver, so he talked his way into accompanying Miss Wood this morning to the library.
His plan cheered him inordinately, since today, Sir Phillip had agreed to allow Daniel to take Miss Wood into Mayfair in his cabriolet.
Miss Wood, however, complained all the way to the front doors. She had found a clue to the alliance’s origins that led to Spain and wished to explore it at leisure. If Daniel came along, he would rush her.
Daniel promised she could have all the time she needed and, ignoring her protests, he carried her bag of books. Her research purpose worked well with his, for the librarian scouring for clues meant he would have ample time to drive over to see Faith. He wanted to tell her how proud he was of her for speaking up to her father.
Beside the open-topped conveyance, Daniel flashed the librarian an irrepressible grin and offered his arm to help her aboard. She accepted it with a long-suffering sigh. He dropped her bag of books on the floor and took the reins from the tiger.
As he climbed aboard, she rearranged the books that had fallen out of the bag. Once satisfied they were properly aligned, she said, “Mr. Trenton, if you are to come with me, let me be perfectly clear on a few rules. You will drive carefully and sedately. We will not make any unplanned stops. And once we arrive, you--”
The front door opened.
“Daniel,” Lady Roselyn called. “Wait.” She raced down the steps, waving a piece of paper.
Lady Terrance, Sir Phillip’s cousin’s wife, followed at her heels. Behind them came Sir Phillip, shrugging into his coat and putting on his hat. Daniel’s heart sank. It seemed Sir Phillip wanted use of his vehicle after all.
“Lady Faith is in trouble!” Lady Roselyn said.
Daniel’s chest pinched in shock. The horse, sensing his tension, shifted, scattering books across Daniel’s feet. He ignored them. “Pray explain, my lady.”
“Lady Faith’s maid brought me this note. It says she intends to visit the Duke of Morton to end her betrothal.”
He digested that news. “I asked her to stay away from him. Still, if she wishes to officially end the engagement, that is good. Who accompanied her?”
“Her companion, a Mrs. Hutchinson.”
He took a deep breath and released it, his panic receding. “So, all is well.”
“No, it is not,” Sir Phillip said. “I am off to warn Burley. I want you to go check on Lady Faith at Morton’s estate.” He was off down the street in search of a hackney before he finished speaking.
Lady Terrance stepped forward and Daniel’s blood pulsed in worry. This lady was reputed to have strong premonitions that often came true. Sir Phillip put much store behind her warnings.
“Mr. Trenton,” she said, her concerned violet gaze capturing his undivided attention, “when I touched that note, I sensed great evil. Lady Faith should never have gone on this journey. Hurry to her. There is no time to waste.” She paused with an anxious look. “It may be too late.”
“I shall get out immediately,” Miss Wood said, beginning to stuff her books willy-nilly into her bag.
Heart pounding, Daniel said, “There is no time.”
“But—”
His jaw clenched, he slapped the reins. The horse sprang forward. The sudden movement sent Miss Wood crashing into her seat. She slammed against Daniel’s left arm and her spectacles slid half down her face. She exclaimed in distress, struggling to right herself.
Ignoring her, Daniel urged the horse to go faster.
They sped past other carriages and careened around a corner. For the next half hour, he and Miss Wood traveled in tense silence. As they neared the Morton estate, the roads became clear of traffic. Trees shaded the well-maintained pathways. Daniel cracked the whip to gain more speed.
A sharp turn threw Miss Wood against him. “Mr. Trenton, have a care! An accident will not help us save the lady.”
“I told her not to go there,” he said, the first words he had spoken since they began this mad dash to save Faith.
Why had she not listened to him?
A woman waved to them from the side of the road beside a closed carriage. Its doors hung open and a crest caught Daniel’s attention. He halted his carriage and handing the reins over to Miss Wood, hopped down. Where was the coachman? He
brushed past the stout woman on the road. “Faith!”
“Were you sent by the Duke of Burley?” The woman followed him, looking anxious.
He peered into the empty carriage. “Where is Lady Faith? And the groom and footman.”
The woman covered her face and burst into tears.
Daniel pulled her hands away. “Where is she?”
“She has been taken, sir. There were too many of them to fight off. I am Mrs. Hutchinson, her companion. I did not know what to do. The groom and footman went for help, but have failed to return. I do not know what has become of them. I am so frightened, sir. Will you please take me to her home, so I may inform her parents of this catastrophe?”
Fear tore through Daniel, leaving him shaking. He was too late. “Where did they take her?” He looked around the deserted, tree-lined road. They could be anywhere by now.
The woman pointed toward Morton Manor.
Fury overwhelmed him. He would tear the place apart room by room to find her. He ran back to his carriage.
Miss Wood held onto the reins despite his attempts to regain them. “We cannot leave her here.”
“Yes, pray, take me with you,” the woman said.
Daniel plucked the reins from Miss Wood’s grip. “We will send someone back for you.”
“Wait,” Miss Wood said.
“No time.”
She laid a firm hand on his clenched fists. Looking back at the lady, she leaned toward him and whispered, “But her story makes little sense, Mr. Trenton.”
He took a breath, anxious to be gone. “If we delay, we may be too late to save Faith.”
Miss Wood adjusted her spectacles. “Why would ruffians take Lady Faith back to Morton Manor? The direction the carriage is facing would infer that she was leaving there. If the Duke of Morton wanted her, he could have detained her when she visited him, instead of chasing after her.”
“What are you suggesting?”
Miss Wood’s eyebrow rose. Together they glanced back at Mrs. Hutchinson. The plump woman peered back at them with worried teary eyes.
A Scorching Dilemma Page 13