Faith remained frozen, her back still turned.
Miss Wood’s gaze flicked between them. Her pity was a shallow mirror to his deep sorrow at hurting Faith. She inched closer to him and whispered, “Must we do this?”
He spoke in her ear. “We must take care of her future.”
Faith’s shaking shoulders were the only sign of her distress. Daniel wanted to hug her and tell her he was sorry, but he held back. Best to finish this cleanly. “With the war ended,” he said in a quiet voice, “Miss Wood and I can travel to Spain with little difficulty to continue our research.”
“Spain?” the librarian said in surprise.
Before he could elaborate, the postboy came with news that their closed carriage and hired groom were ready to depart.
Faith sat as far away from Daniel as she could on the opposing seat. Miss Wood sat beside her, facing Daniel. They continued their journey to London, the silence as tense as it had been before. Now, however, pain was etched deeply on Faith’s face and sadness on Miss Wood’s.
Daniel kept his gaze focused out the window. It was hard to worry about his companions when his own heart was in tatters.
IT WAS LATE afternoon when Daniel’s carriage reached the Burley mansion. Faith refused to touch him, instead waiting for Miss Wood to descend before she accepted a hand in assistance. Servants came running and news of their arrival rang from voice to voice.
The front doors banged open and the Duchess of Burley raced down the stairs, her skirts held high. She ran to Faith and they embraced. Her father remained at the front entrance until his wife and daughter returned indoors. He then came forward to speak with Daniel, leading him away from the others. He noticed servants whispering questions to Miss Wood. She would give them the same story he planned to relay to the duke.
Once they were alone, Daniel gave the duke an account of Faith’s abduction and Morton’s help in her rescue. He impressed upon his grace the appropriateness of their ride home and urged him to give out the story that Lady Faith had been visiting friends the night before, thus nipping any gossip of impropriety in the bud. Daniel also advised the duke that he intended to call out Granger.
Burley shook his head. “That would be unwise.”
Daniel had not expected that response. Did the duke not want to defend his daughter’s honor? “The man must be made to pay for the insult he has shown Lady Faith.”
“I agree,” Burley said. “But not at the expense of my daughter’s name. If word of the reason behind the duel were to get out, the very scandal we wish to avoid would fall upon our heads. No, no.” He looked off toward the large wooden front doors lying wide open. “What we need is another reason to call out Granger. And I must do it.”
“Sir,” Daniel began.
Burley held up a hand and gave him a cool glance. “He will not accept a challenge from you, Trenton. I mean you no disrespect, but you are Sir Phillip’s servant. Granger considers himself a gentleman and will not only discount your challenge, but would likely arrange to have you murdered instead.”
Daniel winced at his words, but their truth struck home. How could he have forgotten his place? “My apologies, sir. I should not have presumed to—”
The duke waved away his words. “No, it is best if this challenge comes from me,” he said in a hard voice. “Granger frequents White’s and that will do as well as any other public place. At the first opportunity, I shall provoke him, then take insult for some slight and advise that my second will call on him.”
“But you must not endanger yourself, your grace. Lady Faith would be devastated. She needs you.”
Burley looked startled, and his attention settled with more significance on Daniel, who shifted uncomfortably. Every word out of his mouth this morning seemed to be wrong.
“She needs my protection more,” Burley said in a gentler tone. “I am pleased to see that if anything were to happen to me, she has friends of such good character and judgment to look out for her. Something I have been lax in showing.” His gaze remained trained on Daniel. “Would you act as my second? I should like you there when the time comes to counsel me.”
It was Daniel’s turn to be startled. This time, he thought about the social repercussions before responding. “Your grace, I believe Sir Phillip is a better choice.”
“I asked for you, Trenton,” Burley said. “If I wished for another, I would have asked him. I trust you.”
Daniel bowed. “Then I would be honored, your grace.”
The Duke’s thoughtful gaze went from him to the mansion’s front doors and Daniel guessed at what else troubled Faith’s father. So he motioned toward the waiting carriage. “I should inform you that Miss Wood and I are to be married, your grace.”
The words ate away at him and he could not look directly at the duke or at Miss Wood, still peering at them from the carriage window. When he finally glanced up, understanding had replaced the duke’s worry.
“I like you, Trenton. Once this ordeal is over,” he said, patting Daniel’s shoulder, “I wish to help you.”
Daniel balked at the offer. “Thank you for your generosity, your grace. However, my needs are taken care of by Sir Phillip.” He bowed and made to leave, but the duke’s hand stayed him.
“Have we met before?” Burley said.
Daniel shook his head. “We have not had occasion.”
“You seem familiar.”
Daniel’s cheeks heated with embarrassment. Never had his face garnered such keen interest as it had in the last few days, first from Morton, and now Burley. In the past, he had enjoyed a stifling anonymity. Now, every angle of his face felt exposed.
“We must return home and inform Sir Phillip of what has transpired.” He bowed and bid the duke good day.
Chapter Sixteen
FAITH SAT ON THE sofa beside her mother. She was safe again. So why did it still feel as if her world had ended?
Her father entered the drawing room but stayed by the door. His feet barely touched the edges of the Persian carpet, as if he was uncertain of how to address two emotional women.
“My love,” her mother said, rubbing Faith’s back soothingly, “what happened?”
“It is as Sir Phillip feared.” Her father came forward. “Granger kidnapped her. And it is my fault.”
“No, Papa.” Faith straightened to face him. “It is I who foolishly chose to go to Morton’s house.”
“You went in the company of Mrs. Hutchinson,” he said, “secure in the belief that you would be safe.”
“What has happened to that woman?” her mother asked. “Why did she not return with you?”
“She betrayed our daughter,” the duke said. “I have sent a Bow Street Runner on her trail. She shall be—”
“Papa, please.” Faith fought against a wave of unhappiness drawing her under. “No more grief. My heart is bruised enough.”
“Oh, my little girl.” Her mother pulled her closer and rocked. “What did that man do to you?”
Faith covered her face and cried. “He refuses to love me.”
The duchess sat back. “Granger?”
Faith shook her head and hiccupped, but she could not bring herself to speak. What use was there in confessing that she loved Daniel when he could never be hers?
The silence stretched to uncomfortable proportions.
Finally, her father approached and sat on a chair beside them. He gave a stiff pat to Faith’s knee and spoke in a thoughtful tone. “She refers to her rescuer. He is an honorable man, Faith.”
“Her rescuer?” her mother said. “But, is he not a—”
Faith caught a glimpse of her father shaking his head in warning to his wife. He brushed a strand of Faith’s hair back into place, and, at the sympathy in his eyes, her heart broke all over again.
“I should never have doubted
your ability to judge a person’s character, Faith,” her father said.
“I do not understand,” her mother said. “Will one of you please explain what has happened?”
Her father took his wife’s hand. Deep sorrow was etched on his face. Even in her grief, Faith ached at his having to confess his part in this disaster.
She left them to their talk and returned to her room. There, she lay on her back and stared at the underside of the ornate wooden canopy. Everything that had happened to her in the past few days descended, and her resolve hardened. If she could not have Daniel, she would have no one. She would sooner join a nunnery than let any other man touch her.
She hugged herself fiercely, blotting out the horror she had felt when Granger found her in the stables. That vision was replaced by one just as shattering, of Daniel holding Miss Wood and saying he intended to marry her, that they planned to travel to Spain. She would not only be separated from him by another woman, but by an ocean. That was, if Granger did not kill him first.
It was especially hard because she knew he loved her! Why else would he even think of challenging Granger to a duel? And his reasons for wanting to marry Miss Wood had all been about how suitable they were. How they shared similar interests. There was no mention of a passionate longing. When he put his arm around the librarian, the lady had looked alarmed, and his manner was as cold as if he had been embracing a lamppost.
But what was this about a “Rue Alliance?” She turned over on her stomach and scrunched up the coverlet. Obviously, Daniel did not trust her enough to tell her anything about it.
Her churning thoughts stilled. With that silence, came clarity of thought. She needed to earn his trust. But how? Could she aid him with his alliance work? She sat up. He was a butler and Miss Wood was a librarian. So, whatever alliance they belonged to must need a sponsor who was willing to fund their research trip to Spain.
Her father had plenty of money. After the marriage pact debacle, he owed her a giant favor. But before she could speak to him about funding, she needed to discover more about this Rue Alliance. And she knew exactly whom to ask.
Faith jumped off the bed and hurried to her writing desk. Daniel lived in Lady Roselyn’s home. The lady had purported to be Faith’s friend. Now it was time she proved it.
THE NEXT MORNING, Faith groaned when a knock at her sitting room door awakened her. She opened her bleary eyes. Was it time for luncheon? She did not care. She burrowed deeper under the covers. “Go away.”
Rap, rap, rap. She wondered who was at the door. Her maid, Elsie, would have come in instead of resorting to that infernal tapping. With a resigned sigh, Faith shrugged on her robe and slippers, prepared to blast whoever dared wake her. In her sitting room, she swung open the door. A downstairs housemaid stood there, reeking of linseed oil and turpentine. “What is it?”
The young girl curtsied, staring at her with wide eyes. “I am Ann, my lady, and I am not supposed to be up here.”
“Then why are you?”
“The Duchess of Morton is here!”
Faith’s heart skipped a beat and she looked down the hall, half expecting to see the duchess striding toward her. The corridor was empty. “Did my father let her in?”
“He took her to his study, my lady. To speak in private.”
“He sent for me?”
“No, my lady.”
She had no wish to go downstairs. She was done with Morton’s family. Let her father deal with this bold-faced murderess. She hoped her father told her that her son was about to be arrested and charged with kidnapping.
“I was in the study dusting when the master and his guest came in,” Ann said. “I hurried to leave, but he whispered to me to wait outside the door to ensure no one interrupted.”
“If you have come to warn me to stay up here, you need not have bothered, Ann. I have no wish to encounter that madwoman again.” She went to close the door.
“But, oh, my lady, I am ever so scared.”
“There is nothing to worry about.” Faith gave the young maid an absentminded pat on her shoulder. “We are safe. My father will see to it that she never bothers us again.”
“That is just it. I think she intends him ill.”
Fear rammed its way into Faith’s chest. She took a deep breath to calm her panic. “What makes you say that?”
The girl blushed. “The study door was ajar, so I peeked in. I know I should not have, but the servants have heard all sorts of tales about that lady.”
“What did you see?”
“At first, nothing. The duchess said she came to apologize. She sounded terribly upset. She begged your father not to call out Mr. Granger. She said her son was ever so sorry. That she had followed him to the country with the intention of talking him into releasing you and bringing you home safely.”
Faith prayed he did not believe a word of that story. The woman had conspired to abduct Faith. She would warn her father, but after the woman left. “Is that all?”
“The duchess might have put something in his drink.”
“She did what?” Faith went icy cold. “Are you certain?”
“Not really, my lady, but his grace had a drink on the table, and when he turned his back on her to glance out the window, I saw her hand pass over his glass.”
Faith pushed Ann aside and raced downstairs. In her distraction about Daniel’s rejection of her, she had forgotten to warn her parents about the duchess’s poisonous plants.
As she reached the entryway, the butler closed the front doors and her mother came out of the drawing room. “Faith, what are you doing up?”
“The Duchess of Morton is here.”
“I know, dear. But your father will deal with that woman. We did not want you disturbed.”
“Your grace,” the butler said to Faith’s mother, “the Duchess of Morton has left. The master insisted that I escort her out.”
“Good!” her mother said with venom.
Faith wrapped her robe tighter, self-conscious that she had come downstairs in disarray. Could Ann have been mistaken? “Is my father still in the study?’
“Yes, my lady.”
“I must speak with him, Mama, about the Duchess of Morton’s plants.” She hurried inside with her mother right behind her.
Her father looked up from the paper he was reading at his desk. “Did that woman accost you?”
He stood and then suddenly slumped over his desk.
“Papa!” Faith ran to his side.
The duchess hurried over to him. “John, are you all right?”
The duke fell back onto his chair. “I am not sure. My head is throbbing. And my arms and legs are so heavy.”
“Ann saw the Duchess of Morton put something in your drink, Papa. She may have poisoned you. Ann!”
The housemaid ran into the room. “Yes, my lady?”
“Call a physician.”
Her father grabbed Faith’s forearm in a fierce grip. “No time. Not if this was poison. I must vomit, before I become unconscious. Get me mustard and water.”
Faith turned to Ann, who stood wide-eyed in front of the butler. “Go! Get him what he needs.”
The housemaid bowled past the startled butler, while her mother rushed out the door, calling for servants to assist her husband.
Faith faced her father. “Is there something you can take in the meantime? Water?”
He shook his head. “Everything in this room is suspect.”
“Oh, Papa, this is my fault. I should have warned you about the Duchess of Morton’s plants.”
“I should never have let her in the door. She came to kill me, so I would not harm her son. The bold female. She will pay for that, Faith, mark my words.” He took her hand and drew her closer. “There is little time left. Write down my symptoms. If the doctor’s un
able to cure me, search my texts for an antidote.”
“Papa, I know nothing of curatives.”
“You must learn, Faith. Look in . . . it is a blue book. Start there. And Trenton. Tell him . . . deal with Granger.”
Ann rushed back with a mug in one hand, sloshing yellow liquid over its top, and a bucket in her other hand.
Faith helped her father take a sip of the mustard water. He tipped his head back and gargled. The moment the liquid touched the back of his throat, he gagged. Ann, smart girl, held the bucket ready. He surged forward, retching convulsively as he disgorged the contents of his stomach into the bucket.
Faith’s stomach heaved in response. She knelt beside him, holding her breath, trying not to compound the problem. He had to be all right. He could not die. Not her Papa.
He remained bent over the bucket for several more minutes as his body shivered and convulsed. Finally, the heaving stopped and he slumped across Faith’s shoulder.
“A footman’s gone to fetch the doctor, John.” Her mother came in with several male servants in tow. At her order, the men carried the duke out of the room and up to his bedchamber.
Once they left, Faith spoke to Ann. “Why did you not warn my father immediately?”
Ann looked teary but Faith had to know the answer.
“My lady, the Duchess of Morton sounded so sincere. She might have moved her hand over his grace’s cup while she was pleading with his grace. Also,” she added, “when he saw me watching, the butler spoke unkindly to me about spying on my employer.” She gave a “humph” of indignation. “I explained that the master had asked me to watch the door and I was not about to leave my post.”
Faith prayed for patience, her stomach was in a knot.
“After she left,” Ann continued, “I checked inside but all seemed well. Still, I could not stop worrying about the master. So I went up to speak with you. But now His Grace is ill.”
“Thank you. See that all the food and liquid in this room is disposed of so no one else is accidentally harmed.”
“Yes, my lady.”
A Scorching Dilemma Page 18